Geezer Girls, page 41
‘Yeah,’ she finally answered. Then she shook her head. ‘No. We’re no better than him.’
‘Don’t forget what they did to us,’ Maxine furiously threw out. ‘They tried to kill us. Kill our girls. They got what was coming to them.’
Over the years Maxine had surprised them both. After she’d shaken off the drink, she’d become the strong one. The one who’d carefully planned Frankie’s downfall.
Maxine pulled out her inhaler. Took a deep puff. ‘The hardest thing we’re gonna have to face,’ she carried on, a forlorn quality entering her voice, ‘is explaining to our girls why we’re still alive.’
Jackie’s hen night was in full swing. They were in the main room of the club, with dim lights falling across the curtain on the stage. Misty watched anxiously as her girls laughed, drank and fooled around. She checked her watch again. Shit, why hadn’t she told the girl about their mums? She still couldn’t believe it herself. Of course, the first time she’d seen Nikki had been outside Ryan’s drama school, waiting by a silver Mercedes. Misty had thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Then came the phone call with the person at the other end claiming to be Nikki Flynn. Misty had put that one down to a total wind-up. She shivered as she remembered the night she had stood outside the club, making the call to Charlie, when the hand grabbed her mouth. She’d nearly toppled over when she’d seen the women standing behind her, ghosts from the past. She’d whisked them into the club, where they’d explained what had happened to them. When she told them what had happened to the girls at the children’s home the women had cried. She’d wept with them.
She’d told them straight to their faces that they should see the girls right away, but they’d refused. Said they had some business to take care of first. She should’ve sussed that the only way they were going to reveal themselves to their daughters was after they got Frankie good and proper. Misty didn’t need a crystal ball to know it was them behind Finlay and Jason’s deaths.
Misty’s mobile rang. She didn’t answer it. It was the signal she’d been waiting for. She knew it was time. With the electronic high energy of ‘Tainted Love’ pumping in the air Misty got to her feet. Took the stage. The spotlight hit her face. Instead of happiness, the light illuminated her anxious expression.
‘Blimey, Misty, what you looking like a drowned rat for?’ Anna shouted out, and then tucked her lips into her cocktail.
Misty said nothing. Instead she stretched her neck, making the tendons stand out like lifelines. Wet her lips. Her fingers did a nervous flapping jig in the air as she finally spoke. ‘OK, ladies, we’ve reached the finale for the night.’ She choked as the words caught in her throat. ‘Shit,’ she rasped out, clasping her hands together. ‘I don’t know how to say this girls, but . . .’
A raucous Jackie called out, ‘Come on, Misty, it’s not like you to have lost your flippin’ voice.’
‘Alright.’ Misty’s Adam’s apple bobbed as she swallowed. ‘I’ve got three very special people who want to meet you.’ A noise came from the back of the stage The sound of feet moving behind the scenes. A silhouetted figure stepped onto the stage behind the curtain. Then another. And another.
‘I told you I didn’t want no strippers,’ Jackie dragged out. ‘I don’t need any more geezers in my life.’
‘I’m real sorry, girls,’ Misty whispered. She stepped back out of the limelight of the stage. An uneasy hush fell across the room. The curtain moved. Eased back. The three silhouettes stepped forward as Marc Almond’s forlorn refrain of ‘Tainted Love’ shook the air.
Jackie blinked. And blinked again. She convinced herself that she must be tanked out of her head because there were three women standing on the stage. And the one in the middle was a dead ringer for her mum. Below-knee black sequinned party dress, pale skin. And the hair. Jesus, the hair. Only Nikki had ever had that particular texture and density of red. This was a trick. That couldn’t be her Nikki standing as bold as the living on the stage.
forty-eight
‘Mum?’
It was Roxy’s voice, all confused and bewildered. That was when Jackie realised who the other women were.
‘Ohmygod,’ Anna said. The muffled sound of her voice told Jackie that she had her hands over her face, cupping her mouth and nose.
As if a signal had been given, the girls shot to their feet. Instead of approaching the stage they huddled together, retreating back to being their own small family of terrified fifteen-year-olds. The only one who stood apart was Ollie. She moved towards the stage. Reached the front. Looked up at Nikki.
‘I prayed for many years that the diamond had helped you get away.’
The women rushed off the stage, as Misty noisily cried, into the waiting arms of their daughters.
Nearly an hour later Jackie and Nikki stood facing each other in the private members’ room upstairs. The last hour had been spent with the women explaining what had happened. Lots of crying and jubilation had followed. Then they naturally drifted into groups. Maxine and Roxy. Jasmine and Anna.
Nikki and Jackie. They stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window, with the black-coated river in the background. With the ten years of life they had lived apart between them.
‘What happened to my cuddly little girl?’ Nikki finally broke the silence. ‘You’re all skin and bone.’
Jackie self-consciously folded her arms around her middle. ‘I gave up on shoving all those puddings in my face because after you left life weren’t so sweet.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth Jackie wanted to take them back. But she couldn’t, just as she and her mum couldn’t recapture the last decade. Nikki turned to face the river. Then she spoke.
‘Sometimes I missed this city so much that I wanted to die thinking I was never gonna see it again. Funny that, because when I lived here most of the time I used to hate it. The damp, the rain, the dark winter evenings. But when I was locked in that prison cell sometimes I would dream about London and its muck and dirt sparkled like diamonds in my mind. But most of the time I’d dream about you. My beautiful little baby. Fifteen years old, a girl ready to step forward as a lady.’ Suddenly her voice broke, clogged with remorse. ‘I feel so ashamed. Of the life I lived. Of the life I made you live. Why couldn’t I be a proper mum and have a job at the checkout at the supermarket? No, I had to be different. If I weren’t taking my clothes off, I was ripping people off. Great mum you got, Jade.’
‘Yesterday I didn’t have a mum,’ Jackie cut in quickly. ‘Today I have and that’s all that matters to me in the world.’
Nikki covered her mouth with the palm of her hand as racking sobs shook her body. Jackie rushed over and wrapped her arms around her in a firm hug. Nikki embraced her and cried like she never wanted to let her go.
‘Please forgive me. Forgive me,’ she chanted.
‘I love you, Mummy, I love you,’ Jackie whispered as her mum’s hand caressed her hair.
The darkness embraced Frankie like he was already dead in his grave. He was on his knees, his breath ragged as his hands moved quickly with the sharpened end of the pen against the solid wall. He stopped, pulling damp air into his body with a deep breath. He brought the pen close to his eyes. Inspected his handiwork. The end had taken on the shape and sharpness of a knife. He’d learnt that trick the first time he’d been sent to a youth offenders’ institute when he was thirteen. He knew that it wouldn’t be much longer before they came for him, so now was the time to make his move.
He stood up and moved to the door. Banged on it, yelling. No one came. He kept banging until he heard footsteps outside. A voice shouted, ‘Stop making that noise.’
‘I need to take a leak, mate.’
‘Go ahead and do it.’
‘I don’t think the ladies are gonna like coming back down here with the place stinking to kingdom come.’
Silence. Then the voice said, ‘Step back.’
Frankie shuffled backwards as he shoved the pen up his sleeve. He cupped his cuffed hands close to the sleeves of his jacket. The door opened. The man who had brought him in the car stood in the doorway with his gun pointed at Frankie. The man signalled with the gun for Frankie to come forward. Frankie reached him. The man stepped to the side. Frankie took one step. Two. As he lifted his foot he twisted around and gripped the end of the pen at the same time. Lunged forward before the man had time to react. Shoved the sharpened edge of the pen hard into the man’s neck. And twisted. The man groaned as blood spurted in the air, and crumpled to the floor. Frankie fell to his knees besides the man. Frantically felt in his pockets. He stopped when he found what he was looking for. The keys for the handcuffs and for the car. He freed his hands. Turned back to the man. Pulled the gun from his limp fingers. He kicked the man, rolling him until he was deep inside the basement room. Frankie locked the door.
Ran along the corridor, the gun alert in his hand. Reached the stairs. Slowly took them one at a time. Reached the door. With the tips of his fingers he pushed it open. He gulped down a deep breath. As he exhaled he quickly pushed himself outside, swinging the gun around. No one was there. He crept along the corridor towards the front door. He peered outside. No one. He rushed over towards the car. Pulled the keys from his pocket. Opened the door. Jumped inside. He dropped the gun in his lap as he ignited the engine.
Jackie leaned against the back of her front door as soon as she closed it. Exhaustion nearly pushed her to the floor. She was shagged out. Slowly she slid down the door. Hit the floor. She couldn’t believe it, her mum was back. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She gulped as she pressed her hand against her mouth, thinking of all the years together they’d lost. Then she started to laugh, huge waves of happiness tumbling in the air. She thought about that totally over-the-top white wedding dress she was going to be wearing tomorrow with her mum sitting in the front pew. Finally Jackie Jarvis was getting married. And now nothing and no one was going to stand in her way. No Frankie. No past. No Jade.
She picked herself up and moved towards the main room. She twisted the handle. Pushed the door. Took one step inside. That was when she felt it; another human being was in the room. She flicked the light on.
‘Schoolboy,’ she breathed with relief.
‘I got back early, so I told the babysitter to take the rest of the night off.’ He peered hard at her. ‘You alright, babe?’
She watched as he picked himself up from the sofa. Suddenly the tiredness came back. The lies she’d told him came back. She knew the time was right. She had to tell him.
She looked him squarely in the face. ‘A man’s got a right to know who he’s marrying. My name ain’t Jackie Jarvis. It’s Jade Flynn.’
Twenty minutes later Jackie stopped talking. She bit her lip as she anxiously looked at Schoolboy across the kitchen table. During her tale he’d said nothing, and hadn’t betrayed what he was feeling through his expression.
‘So.’ He finally spoke. ‘What you’re trying to tell me is that I’m getting hitched to someone who’s got brown hair, not red.’
Jackie gave him a stunned look. ‘You still wanna marry me after what I just told you?’
Instead of answering her he stood up. She felt the tears bubble in her eyes because she knew he was getting ready to go. Why didn’t she just keep her soddin’ trap shut? Now her future was getting ready to waltz out the door.
‘Please don’t . . .’ she began to beg.
‘Get your coat.’ His soft command cut across her.
‘You what?’ she answered in surprise.
‘We’re going for a little walk.’
‘Are you trying to get us shot?’
Jackie flung out her incredulous question in the one place the general population of Hackney made sure they weren’t anywhere near come midnight. Cinnamon Junction. The place whose logo was gunplay and death. People used it to quickly hustle from Hackney to Islington, Islington to Hackney. Tonight the junction was deserted except for the occasional car that blew past. Jackie stood with Schoolboy underneath the weak light of a street lamp.
‘What are we doing here?’ Jackie continued.
‘Over here,’ Schoolboy answered as he grabbed her hand.
He steered her towards the bus shelter as her eyes darted fretfully around her. Schoolboy sat down on the red plastic bench provided for passengers waiting for the bus. He tugged her hand, making her sit.
‘When I needed somewhere to think I used to come here in the early morning. No one, apart from me, had figured out that at that time of the day this place was always quiet. Restful.’
‘Well, I don’t feel restful,’ Jackie said, moving her body defensively closer to his. ‘So whatever it is we’re doing here let’s get it over with and get the f’ing hell outta here.’
‘You’re not the only one with dirty secrets. You know what type of life I used to live. What I’m about to tell you only my sister and her man know about. Do you remember all those rumours going around about why I had to leave town three years ago?’ Jackie nodded. ‘The truth is early one morning I came down here to do some thinking. I wanted out of the ugly life I was living and a mate of mine was giving me a golden opportunity to do it. The only problem was I needed some cash and I didn’t have none. So I’m walking down here, brain ticking, and do you know what I found over there?’ He pointed to a patch of pavement a few metres away from the bus stop.
‘A bag of dosh?’ she ventured in a small voice.
‘A dead body.’
Jackie’s indrawn breath slapped against the air, but she said nothing.
‘Turkish bloke, mashed up real bad from a mega-beating. Two things I could’ve done – hightailed it outta here or called the Bill. Do you know what I did instead?’ He slid his head sideways to look at her. Their gazes caught and held. ‘I went over. Looked him up and down like he was a rival dealer. Then I noticed that one of his trainers had come off. So I was feeling so fucked off with life I booted the trainer. And out bounces this mobile phone. I should’ve put it back, got on the blower to the cops, but I didn’t. All I kept thinking about was selling the phone to make some cash. I kept telling myself it wasn’t like that bloke needed it where he was going. So I turned my back and walked away with some dead guy’s mobile phone in my pocket.’ He switched his face back to the road. But he kept on talking. ‘I haven’t even got your excuse, no one made me do it. You don’t have to ask for my forgiveness. You were a teenager who lost her mum because some villain, who thinks he’s an extra in The Long Good Friday, decides to set her up. Instead of looking out for you, the authorities let some dodgy social worker dump you in the hands of this gangsta. It ain’t your fault you ended up packing drugs and all the other shit you was made to do. And when you scarpered with your mates not one of those people who were meant to be looking after you gave a toss. The only thing I’m angry about is that Ollie didn’t blow the balls off this scumbag Frankie Sullivan.’
He picked up her cold palm. Enveloped her fingers with his.
‘You’re my girl and no matter what happens you always will be. But am I your guy? You sure you wanna hook up with someone who robs dead people?’
She reached her other hand across and rubbed her thumb over his cheek. ‘Did you ever go to church when you were little?’ she asked him.
‘Yeah. My mum used to take me. Why?’
‘At the church I went to we always used to light candles underneath the statue of a saint so they could pray for someone you loved. I used to do it for my mum. There ain’t much of it left, but I’ve still got the same candle. I know you ain’t no churchgoer any more, but when we get back to my place will you say a prayer with me asking for everything to be alright at our wedding tomorrow?’
Schoolboy let out a long breath. Leaned over and kissed her. He pulled her up and put his arm around her. As they began to walk he asked, ‘You know what really frightens the living shit outta me?’ She shook her head, her features becoming all serious again. He whispered, ‘I’m gonna have a mother-in-law.’
She tutted as she hit him playfully on the arm. Then they both laughed as they melted into London’s shadows.
Nikki, Maxine and Jasmine got back to the house in Epping Forest minutes after midnight.
‘Are we all agreed that we still wanna do this?’ Nikki asked as she cut the engine.
The other two nodded. They all got out of the car. Moved towards the house.
‘Look, the door’s open,’ Jasmine cried out, making the others stop.
‘We told Ibrahim to keep everything closed,’ Nikki said.
‘Something’s up,’ Maxine added.
They ran towards the house. Bolted down to the basement once they got inside. Their harsh breathing echoed inside the basement corridor as they neared the door. Nikki moved forward to open it.
‘Be careful,’ Maxine cried.
Nikki twisted the handle and slammed the door back. ‘Oh no,’ she cried out as she rushed inside. The others quickly followed her in. They all stared, horrified, at Ibrahim’s body on the floor. Nikki began to sob as she dropped to her knees beside him. She winced when she saw the pen sticking out of his neck. She felt his pulse.
‘He’s dead.’
Their collective sobbing filled the air. Ibrahim had been with them almost from the beginning. They had found him begging in one of the crowded marketplaces in Sankura. They had taken him in and he’d become their official bodyguard. When they left Sankura he’d come with them.
‘We should’ve killed that bastard when we had the chance,’ Maxine railed.
‘What we gonna do?’
Jasmine answered Nikki’s question. ‘We can’t look for him now, we’d never find him. We’re gonna have to use some of our contacts here and arrange a hit.’
‘But say he turns up at the wedding tomorrow?’ The thought that Frankie would turn up at her daughter’s wedding pushed the terror deep into Nikki’s eyes.
Maxine grabbed her hand. ‘Not even Frankie would be stupid enough to pull a stunt like that in a crowded place.’
