by Liza Cody
‘Show you off? They were so impressed with you they joined the British National Party two days after meeting you.’
‘That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all morning,’ Billy called.
‘I don’t need your approval,’ Cherry snapped. ‘Why don’t you mind your own business and use that fat mouth to gobble up another dozen doughnuts.’
Entertaining though this was it distracted my attention away from a furious argument that was going on between Tantie, Zach and Sylvie. I didn’t understand a word of it but nobody seemed to be expressing much love or family feeling.
Pang was just as flummoxed. She came back to Gregory, saying, ‘Should we call for an interpreter?’
‘We should call for the paddy wagon and more bods to help load these lunatics up and dump ’em all in the Thames. Or the armed response unit. Or a bunch of burly nurses with needles full of sleepy juice.’
‘Please!’ Pang pointed behind Gregory to where the neighbours were recording every word. The Devil was right: this was democracy in action.
‘Well, we gotta do something. Call for backup.’
‘I did.’
‘Where are they?’
‘There’s a pile-up at Brent Cross – an all-units shout.’
‘All units except us.’ Gregory shrugged meaty shoulders, sending raindrops flying from his raincoat. He stared around him with undisguised dislike. ‘We get the freak show.’
‘Okay now,’ Pang began, not quite decisively. ‘Ms Price, as the most serious of our enquiries involves you, I’m asking you to come down to the station with us.’
‘No,’ Cherry said, absolutely decisive. ‘I’m not leaving my home in the hands of violent, destructive terrorists. And I refuse to go anywhere without legal representation.’
‘You’d be much more comfortable,’ Gregory said in a placatory tone of voice that made Pang wince. ‘At least sit in the car with us and answer a few simple questions.’
‘Why should I answer any questions – ridiculous questions that come from lies and rumours started by drunks and malicious neighbours? I asked the police to come and help me. Crimes have been committed against me – theft and violence. But will you do anything about that? No. After repeated requests you still refuse to help. You take the word of alkies and deviants but you ignore me. Give me one reason why I should help you?’
I had to admit that Wintry Cherry had a great line in rhetoric. This was another good but dishonest speech. I thought the applause I heard came from the Devil, but then I realised that a few of the neighbours standing behind Ziggy’s mum were clapping too.
‘Hey!’ Billy waved from his bedroom window. ‘Are you telling us the big nig-nog wears women’s clothes? This gets better and better.’
‘Wig up and take a bow,’ I suggested to Pierre. But he was way ahead of me. He walked over to Billy’s front yard and called up, ‘That’s a great sofa you’ve got in your living room. The ice cream was fantastic too. I wanna thank you for your generous hospitality.’ He dropped into the most graceful curtsey I’d ever seen if you don’t count ballerinas.
But graceful or not, the idiot had certainly cost me my bed for the night. I could see Billy puffing and sputtering, trying to express a harsh enough response, but PC Pang said to Cherry, ‘I really must insist, and if you won’t come voluntarily I’ll have to arrest you.’
‘Wa-hey!’ Billy yelled, completely diverted. ‘Result! Wrong child, but I’ll take it!’
‘What’re you going to arrest me for?’ Cherry asked in a tone of sorrowful outrage. ‘You mentioned an abduction, I think. Well, I didn’t abduct anyone. He did!’ She pointed triumphantly to Pierre. ‘And she did!’ She pointed at me. ‘And… ’
‘Don’t!’ shouted Pierre. ‘Just don’t. You can’t be that cruel.’
‘This isn’t about cruelty,’ Cherry said sweetly. ‘It’s about truth.’
‘What is?’ Pang asked.
‘Him.’ Madame I C Ice calmly turned to Li’l Missy and removed the umbrella from his tremulous grasp. ‘This man is the third nun who abducted the feral child from his home in… um… where was it?’
‘Man?’ said Gregory, Billy, Ziggy’s Mum and half the neighbours.
‘Excuse me?’ said Pang.
‘Cherry… ’ Tears ran down Li’l Missy’s pretty face. ‘Why? I thought we were friends.’
‘I’m sorry if you feel hurt,’ Cherry said, with no sympathy whatsoever. ‘But this isn’t about you. It’s about the principle of telling the truth. Truth is what we all need in life and I’m sure you’ll be strengthened by it in the end.’
I said, ‘Well, the truth is that you are a stony-hearted, manipulative, icy, spiteful, predatory… ’
‘Please don’t say “bitch”,’ Electra whispered, safe, for the moment, in my arms.
28
In Which Li’l Missy Changes Sides
There was an advantage to lying flat on my back on a wet pavement – I was out of Suzie Pang’s sightline.
There was a disadvantage to being big and black. Pang turned on Pierre. ‘You abducted a child? Are you aware… ?’
‘No,’ Pierre said simply.
And then Li’l Missy Smister stepped up. Her pretty cheeks were still wet with tears. She went to Pierre’s side and said, ‘Officer Pang, please listen – at the time, we weren’t abducting anyone. We were rescuing an abused child. Pierre, show her the picture. All we were going to do was take pictures through the letterbox. But when we saw… It was so awful, Officer Pang, I’ve never seen anything like it. We had to do something. Show her the photo, Pierre. All we were going to do was send photos to the Social Services, I swear. But we were right there, on the spot, and we couldn’t just leave it to someone else, could we, Pierre? We couldn’t wait for someone else to make a decision.’
‘That’s enough,’ said Gregory. ‘All three of you, into my car. Right now.’
‘No,’ I said, anxiety making me finish the Shiraz far too quickly. ‘I’m not leaving Electra like this.’
‘Take them away,’ said Judasina Price. ‘I told you – this has nothing to do with me. I did nothing wrong. They did.’
‘No,’ said Li’l Missy Smister. Once started, there was no stopping her. She walked, with her sassy high-bummed flounce, over to Cherry’s front door where Tantie was still arguing with Zach and Sylvie. Everyone – men, women and Ziggy – wanted to watch her, but no one knew what she was going to do.
What she did was fast and simple. She picked up the boot-scraper from Cherry’s door step. Two strides took her to the living room window. Her right arm went back, and, with the crisp crinkle of smashing glass, the boot-scraper sailed straight through the window.
‘Throws like a girl,’ Pierre said. ‘So she must be a girl.’
‘My window!’ shrieked the Queen of Mean. ‘Someone! Do something.’
A ragged cheer went round the audience.
Zach and Sylvie stared down, horrified.
Tantie started to pick glass shards out of the frame with delicate thin fingers.
A neighbour loaned Pierre her walking stick and he joined Tantie, knocking glass away, making it safe enough for him to step over the window sill into Cherry’s living room.
Cherry focussed on Ian Gregory as her most responsive target. ‘Please,’ she said, hiding her fury behind helpless appeal. ‘Please, your colleagues seem to have lost control of the situation. And they’ve lost sight of who’s the victim here. Isn’t there something you can do?’ She leaned towards him, subtly, as if she wanted to lay her head against his manly chest and say, ‘Make it all right, Daddy, make it all go away.’
I’d seen her unleash exactly the same body language on Pierre. It made me sick
It made PC Ian Gregory puffed up and protective. ‘Don’t you worry,’ he said, activating his radio. ‘I’ll sort all this out in a jiffy.’
> I thought the tumour of terror and rage in my chest would rupture and the force of the explosion would break my ribs.
Ignored, Suzie Pang said, ‘Stop! Everyone stop what you’re doing right now.’ She looked as if she wanted to sit down and cry. If she hadn’t been wearing the uniform I’d have felt sorry for her.
Billy yelled, ‘The pretty girl’s a gay bloke? That’s disgusting.’
‘And you fancied him,’ one of the neighbours yelled back. ‘Don’t think we ain’t seen you spying on everyone from behind your curtains, you dirty old perv.’
‘Shut your hole, Jew boy,’ Billy thundered.
Oh he really had a way with words. He was my host; I was his parasite. And last night I nearly killed him. Not even a close encounter with death made him any kinder or more understanding. Sorrow curled up like a kitten next to rage and fear.
‘Put him straight,’ the Devil suggested slyly. ‘Give him the benefit of your wisdom on the subject of gender re-assignment.’
‘Hush,’ murmured Electra. ‘Your understanding of that subject is only matched by your understanding of particle physics.’
‘I’m going in,’ Pierre said.
‘Don’t you dare,’ Cherry said. ‘Stop him, Officer Gregory, please.’
Ignoring both of them, Pierre stepped over the window ledge into Cherry’s front room, appearing a minute later at the front door. He opened it wide, and said, ‘Party time. Come on in everyone, make yourselves to home. Dry off, warm up.’
Tantie was first off the mark. She raced in and up the stairs. Li’l Missy followed, hesitating on the threshold until Pierre opened his arms and offered reconciliation and a huge, muscular hug.
‘No, no, no,’ said the owner of the Ice House. ‘I didn’t invite you. You’re not wanted. It’s my house.’
‘Well, I’m still paying the goddam mortgage,’ Pierre countered, standing back politely to allow in three police officers, Ziggy’s mum and Ziggy.
‘Can you walk, darling?’ I asked.
‘I’ll try,’ Electra said softly.
I got up stiffly and with effort. Billy’s coat was heavy with rain. I set Electra on her feet, noticing where the chain had rubbed a raw patch on her neck. Her skin is very thin. Greyhounds get hurt so easily. Little Missy Smister and I gave her soft scarves to wear round her neck instead of a collar. Ice Price made her wear chains. She’ll have to pay for that, I thought grimly.
I pushed the lawnmower. Electra limped unsteadily beside it.
‘No, not you,’ Cherry yelled, trying to push Pierre out of the way so she could shut us out. Pierre stood so solid she almost bounced off him.
‘Are you mad?’ she shouted at him. ‘I’m not having a lawnmower on my hall carpet. And I told you, that dirty old lush is barred.’
‘You don’t want the lawnmower inside the house?’ he asked innocently. ‘Simple. Fetch the padlock keys. But this is my party. My guest list. For once you don’t get to call the shots.’
Floating down from next door came Billy’s voice, ‘That’s my fucking coat, you cow. You let that pervert into my home, you broke my breakfast bowl and you want to feed my lunch to the dog. Don’t you ever set foot in my house again.’
Barred from two houses in one morning? That was too much, even for me. ‘Billy,’ I yelled back, ‘I’m sorry about the bowl. But you’d better let me back in if you want any more beer.’
‘And tell that old Froggy piece to come over and give me my pie,’ he shouted. ‘You can’t leave me all alone and hungry.’
‘If you want anything at all,’ I said, ‘you’d better stop calling people bad names.’ There’s nothing like a few burnt bridges to make me start telling home truths. Oh I’m so brave when I have nothing to lose.
I humped and lumped the lawnmower over the Ice House doorstep so that it sat inside, oily and muddy, on the mat. Electra sat next to it and I was encouraged to see that she did not greet Cherry or Li’l Missy. Maybe even her great heart had been cooled by their betrayal.
‘I absolutely forbid you to come one step further,’ Cherry screeched.
‘I’m so cold,’ Electra sighed.
‘Forbid?’ I asked. ‘But your shag pile needs trimming.’ And I pushed the lawnmower onto the hall carpet.
‘Keys?’ Pierre suggested, gently.
It was so strange – he had been deceived and manipulated by this daughter of the Devil. She’d tried to strip away his identity and damage what was important to him. But was he damaged? It seemed not. He was bouncing back, exerting his will. I couldn’t help comparing his resilience with my abject surrender to my own demon lover. That Son of Shaitan stripped my identity away and still has it. He smashed me down onto the hard cold ground and I’m still broken.
Pierre looks at Cherry as if she’s the stranger who trod on his foot in a crowded train. She might have bruised his toes, she hadn’t apologised, but it was all over now. Move on. She wasn’t big enough or strong enough to hurt him. She wouldn’t leave a scar – he hadn’t cared enough to be scarred. He’d simply woken up to the fact that she’d been trying to control him and said, ‘No more.’
Would I ever feel like that about the Devil’s son? I couldn’t imagine it. Broken, unmendable – my state of disrepair seemed to be carved like an epitaph on my gravestone.
And what of Cherry? Was her affair with Pierre simply a game she hadn’t won? Or was there something deeper? Of course I didn’t want there to be anything deeper. I could only deal with her by denying her humanity. I am too mean and shallow myself to handle any distress but my own.
‘It’s okay,’ Electra whispered. ‘I’ll forgive her eventually, even if you won’t. I’ll do it for both of us.’
‘It’s sometimes stupid to forgive and trust someone who’s injured you,’ I told her.
‘And I ain’t stupid,’ Pierre said. ‘I want those keys, and there’s something even more important than that – know what I’m saying?’
‘No,’ said Cherry, Electra and I together.
‘Yes,’ said Li’l Missy.
‘Where are your meds?’ Pierre asked.
‘I don’t know.’
They were looking at each other so they didn’t notice. But I saw Cherry’s hand flick, for a split second, towards her handbag.
‘Her bag,’ I said. ‘They’re in her handbag.’
Li’l Missy lunged towards her.
‘Police!’ screamed Cherry. ‘Lay one finger on me and you’ll be charged with assault. I’ll give the police your birth name and you’ll be taken in, charged as a man, convicted and sent to prison as a man. As a man. How will you like that? And you, Pierre, if you do one thing without my express permission, whatever happens to Missy will be your fault. You will be responsible. And don’t look at me like that. This is about truth and self-respect. I want all this to go away. I want you two to contradict all the smears. Do you hear? This has gone on too long. And none of it is my fault.’ She looked weak and helpless while saying this – almost pathetic.
I could feel rage rising like vomit in my throat.
She pointed to me and the lawnmower as if we were one big filthy lump. ‘It’s her fault,’ she went on, with a catch in her voice, as if I had maliciously, for no reason, ruined her perfect life. ‘I don’t understand the hold a creature like that has over you. What has she done for you, Pierre, sweetie? She isn’t your girlfriend. You don’t owe her anything. She’s mad, smelly and repellent. And yet neither you nor Missy have behaved like your true selves since she turned up. I’m not asking you to totally abandon her in the cold or anything like that, but I need you to acknowledge who is most important to you. I need you both to publicly acknowledge that I am number one in your lives. And that none of this is my fault.’
My rage overflowed. ‘If you don’t let me and Electra into your house, you are abandoning us in the cold. What do you think’s out there, Acapulco B
ay? Don’t keep making your cruelty someone else’s responsibility. This is your choice. No one else’s. They may be weak, but you are cold and spiteful. You are the one who does the damage.’ With that I edged around the mower and snatched the bag out of her hand.
‘No one is keeping Smissy from his medicines but you. No one is using them to blackmail him into being your personal acolyte but you.’ I opened the pink bag and found what looked like a mini-pharmacy. I tipped it out at Li’l Missy’s feet.
‘You saw that!’ she cried, turning to look for police support. ‘You all saw that. She’s stolen my handbag.’
I opened every zip, every compartment. I shook everything out. I emptied her change purse, her wallet and her make-up kit. Everything went on the floor. Then I handed the bag back to Cherry. She refused it so I dropped it at her feet.
‘Don’t you accuse me of stealing,’ I said. ‘Is that your name on the prescriptions? Does it say, “This medicine was prescribed to Satan’s scaly daughter”? No? Well then, you stole them. Smissy’s just taking back what belongs to him, I mean her. Tell that to PC Gregory.’
I was looking for two padlock keys. I didn’t find them.
Ziggy’s mum was pointing her camcorder at Electra. ‘Hmm yes,’ she said to no one in particular, ‘I could send this clip straight to YouTube and the RSPCA.’ She turned the camera towards Cherry’s face, and went on, ‘You could save yourself a lot of stress by just setting the poor dog free.’
‘And how many new “daddies” has your son had in this last year alone?’ Cherry shot back. ‘Maybe someone should inform your ex and the Social Services.’
‘Think you can make a third little boy just vanish?’ Ziggy’s mum said. ‘Well you can’t. People notice. People talk.’
Li’l Missy grabbed and counted his blister packs and bottles.
‘Got everything?’ Pierre asked. ‘Go on then – pour yourself some water and take them. Then make us all tea and coffee. Be the perfect hostess, eh?’ He watched his friend rush away to the kitchen. His relief was almost as visible as Missy’s. That’s love, I thought. It’s not the constant negotiating that goes on between ill-matched bedmates, the constant threat and counter threat. It’s the love of real friendship.