Читать книгу Sinner - Jacqui Rose - Страница 13

It was just past 6am and Alfie couldn’t sleep. Hadn’t slept. Though it was less about the cocaine that ran around his veins and more about the feelings that rushed around his body.

He’d stayed awake all night watching Franny sleep fretfully, tossing and turning, and it’d taken all his willpower not to wake her up and ask her a thousand questions about the truth of where she’d actually been. More to the point, who she’d been with. Shit. Shit … He hated feeling like this. Jealousy was not something he wanted to deal with; the last time he was jealous, he’d done someone a serious injury.

He didn’t have the headspace to cope with it, not on top of everything else. Jesus, this was the last thing he needed, and part of him was pissed off with Vaughn for making him feel like this. The man hadn’t had any solid evidence about anything, yet he’d just piled a whole heap of doubt in his head.

Annoyed, Alfie got up and pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper. He needed to get some fresh air. Lying in bed thinking was only making everything worse – a lot worse – and the last thing he wanted to do was have a blowout row with Franny.

After striding outside, Alfie stood, leaning against the wall, taking long, deep drags on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall of Barclays bank, situated on the corner of Greek Street. He felt the chill of the early morning air as he watched a dustcart speed down the road, seeing it scrape against the wing mirror of a badly parked black cab, but it was good to get out.

Turning away and immediately lighting another cigarette, Alfie crossed the street, heading for one of the cafés in Rathbone Place to get himself a coffee.

He couldn’t think straight. Maybe he should get away. As much as it was good to be back in Soho, especially this particular part of it – the small square a hideaway from the bustle of the West End – it hadn’t brought him the peace of mind he’d hoped for. Everything was becoming a mess. The letters. The tension between Vaughn and Franny. And now Charlie had his dog in the fight, it was becoming one big fucking nightmare. And as much as he hated to admit it, he just wanted to run.

Maybe it was best if he threw in the towel at the club, or maybe like Franny had suggested, he should go and speak to Charlie on his own. There was a lot of history between Charlie and him. There was even a time when he’d helped Charlie out and he’d never asked anything in return. So maybe – though it would rile him to have to – if he went and really pulled the favour card, then maybe Charlie might think again … Fuck, he didn’t know what he … A sound broke into his thoughts. He spun around. The street was now deserted but he waited for a moment, trying not to let his jumpiness overwhelm him.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down, steadying his breathing before continuing to walk, but then he stopped again, listening intently … There it was, and it was coming from over there. He stared at the trees in the near corner of Soho Square Gardens. He could see someone hiding there.

His heart thumped and prickles of sweat beaded on his forehead as he walked towards the black gates of the gardens, which were still locked, but he knew another way in. Alfie walked around to the south side, climbing up on the bench, which gave him easy access to vault over the railings.

Cautiously, he walked towards the middle of the square, creeping around the back of the mock-Tudor, black and white timber building in the centre of the gardens. Feeling the cosh in his pocket, Alfie brought it out as he slunk along.

He listened again for the sound, and making sure nobody was behind him, he followed the noise, creeping past the trees and shrubs to crouch down behind the old oak in the corner of the square as the mist of the early morning lifted.

Still gripping the cosh tightly, Alfie craned around the corner of the large and gnarled tree trunk. Taken aback he stared, placing the club back into his pocket. ‘Jesus, are you all right?’

Shannon Mulligan stared at the man, dried blood and crusty mucus caked onto her face. She squinted through her swollen black eye as she shivered with cold, her words slightly muffled as her torn lip made it difficult for her to speak. ‘I’m fine.’

He moved nearer, crouching down to the girl. ‘You don’t look it, love – is there anybody you want me to call?’

Shannon shook her head, wishing the person would just disappear. She wasn’t in the mood for chat, especially from some posh-looking geezer. Not that he sounded posh; he sounded as common as she did. Still it was obvious by the way he dressed that he had a bit of money.

Looking worried, Alfie spoke again. ‘Please, there must be something I can do.’

‘Yeah, piss off!’

Unoffended and clearly not one to be put off, he tried again. ‘Have you been here all night? Look, you can’t stay here.’

A flash of annoyance crossed Shannon’s face. ‘I can do what I bleedin’ want, mate – who are you anyway, the park police? No, you ain’t, so now you’ve done your do-gooding, you can fuck right off and leave me alone.’

He grinned. ‘Fiery ain’t you?’

‘Nosy, ain’t you?’

‘What’s your name?’

Shannon curled up her face in a sneer but instantaneously regretted it as pain shot through her injured lip. ‘What’s yours?’

‘I’m Alfie.’

Shannon shrugged, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Well that’s very nice for you, now like I said before, Alfie, can you piss off?’

‘You look cold.’ And without waiting for a reply, Alfie took off his jacket and tried to wrap it round Shannon’s shoulders, but she scurried away, pushing herself back against the tree. ‘My name ain’t Oxfam, you know. I don’t need your skanky jacket.’

Alfie laughed. The jacket in question had cost him a couple of grand. At the thought of it, he laughed again, something he couldn’t remember doing for a long time. ‘Then why don’t you just tell me your name, and after that, I can buy you a cup of tea. You’ve made me laugh, which I can’t remember doing for a long time, so it’s the least I can do for you.’

Shannon scowled. ‘Am I some sort of fucking joke to you?’

Lighting up yet another cigarette, Alfie shook his head. ‘No, of course not. I like you, that’s all.’

‘Weirdo, you don’t even know me. You going to give me one of them or what?’ Shannon gestured to Alfie’s cigarettes. He handed her the box and with her dirty, bitten-down fingernails she grabbed one eagerly, putting it into her swollen mouth before allowing Alfie to light it for her.

‘So, are you going to let me buy you something to eat then?’

Shannon, feeling more at ease with this stranger, cocked her head as she looked at Alfie. ‘No, but you could give me a tenner.’

‘Why do you want a tenner?’

‘Cos I ain’t got one.’

Going into his pocket, Alfie pulled out a wad of money. He winked at her. ‘That’s a good enough reason as any. I like a person who can be straight.’

Amazed, Shannon said, ‘You’re really going to give me ten quid?’

‘Yeah, that’s what you asked for isn’t it?’

She looked at Alfie suspiciously. ‘I’m not giving you a blow job if that’s what you’re after; for starters I charge twenty quid, but anyhow, my mouth hurts too much to do it.’

Alfie shook his head sadly. ‘No, darlin’, that’s not what I’m looking for … I tell you what, why don’t you take this.’

‘Fifty quid!’ Shannon looked at the money and then at Alfie, then back at the money before saying, ‘You really are weird, mate. Is this how you get off, get your kicks?’

Alfie laughed again. ‘It certainly isn’t.’

‘But no one gives money away for nothing.’

It was Alfie’s turn to shrug. ‘I do. Go on, darlin’, just take it.’

As he pushed the money into her hand, caught underneath the ten-pound notes was a piece of paper. It fluttered down to the muddy ground. Frowning, Alfie picked it up but when he did so he physically recoiled as if an electric bolt had gone through him. His head swam, and a wave of nausea passed over him. He’d forgotten he had one of the letters in his pocket.

Spotting the change in Alfie’s demeanour, and seeing how ashen he’d suddenly become, Shannon asked, ‘What’s that?’

Beginning to tremble, Alfie rubbed his chest, feeling the familiar tightness return as a cold sweat ran down his back. Scrunching the letter up and pushing it as far down in the pocket of his jeans as possible, Alfie tried to sound as casual as he could. ‘Nothing … it’s … it’s just a letter.’

‘Must be something bad to make you look like that. You’ve gone proper pale, mate. Go on, what is it?’

Glancing back at her, Alfie pulled himself together. ‘Now who’s the nosy one?’

Something like a shy smile touched the corners of Shannon’s mouth. It was the first time anyone had been nice to her in longer than she could remember. In fact, when she really thought about it, apart from Charlie giving her the odd free rock of crack now and then, there’d been no one in her life who had been particularly kind to her. The only thing she remembered of her mother was her being out of it on heroin. And as for her auntie who took her in, well, she would hardly describe her as the warmest of women.

Not wanting to think too much about the past, Shannon turned her attention back to Alfie, wiping her nose on the back of her hand as flakes of dried blood fell out of her nostrils. ‘Suit yourself, don’t tell me then.’

Changing the subject completely, Alfie asked, ‘How old are you anyway?’

Shannon paused, contemplating her reply, before confidently saying, ‘I’m twenty.’

‘You look younger than that.’

Trying to appear casual, Shannon shrugged again. ‘You asked me how old I was, not how old I looked, and I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not.’

Feeling the twinge in his knee from crouching, Alfie stood up. ‘Okay, well if I can’t persuade you to let me buy you a cup of tea, I’ll be off … But look after yourself, little miss nameless, and like I say, I’m Alfie, and if you ever need a chat or just somewhere to have a drink, pop into my club. It’s on Sutton Row. It’s just before you get to the corner of Falconberg Mews … And here, if you won’t take my jacket at least take my jumper. It’s going to be cold today.’

Back in Woolwich, Bree had made up her mind. Even though it was cold, the sun was shining through the window, and there was no way she was going to spend yet another afternoon cooped up inside.

Yes, she’d promised Franny not to go out, but then Franny had promised her that the days wouldn’t run into weeks and the weeks wouldn’t run into months. What was she expected to do? And besides, it wasn’t hurting anyone, not if she was careful, and one thing she was good at was being careful; she’d spent all her married life having to sneak and creep about, just so she was able to get out for a few hours here and there, so she was now somewhat expert at it.

Smiling at her daughter who was fast asleep in the cot, Bree picked her up, careful not to wake her as she wrapped her up tightly in a pink cashmere blanket. She gently placed her in the baby stroller Franny had bought from Harrods, when she’d first found out she was pregnant. Before things had got tense between them.

Checking she’d got her keys, Bree bounced Mia down the stairs in the stroller. At the bottom, before walking into the communal area, she took a deep breath. She shouldn’t feel guilty about going outside. There was nothing wrong with it, nothing at all. But then, why did she feel like she was doing something so bad? It wasn’t a crime, and it wasn’t Franny who had to stay indoors day in and day out, seeing and speaking to nobody, and as much as Franny refused to hear her when she said that living this way reminded her of her old life, that’s exactly what it felt like, and all the old triggers, all her old demons seemed like they were coming back.

She felt down, lonely. She’d even go as far as saying she was depressed, and she wanted out, but at the moment it seemed like Franny was holding all the cards, not just because she was indebted to her for what she’d done by helping her to keep Mia, but also financially. And she was certainly grateful, but right now she refused to let the thought of Franny stop her taking Mia out for some fresh air. After all, she was a grown woman and she could do what she liked.

With a renewed sense of determination, Bree stood in the communal hallway of the maisonettes, pushing away her guilt and hesitating only for a moment before she stepped out into the sunshine, feeling the warm wind on her face.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The last time she’d been outside was when she’d gone into labour with Mia, and Mia had come early, so that made it almost four and a half months ago.

It was crazy, she knew that and she was embarrassed to admit even to herself that over time she’d become slightly wary of Franny, even going so far as to say she was afraid of her. Not that she thought Franny would actually hurt her, but there was an intensity about Franny that hadn’t been there before, as well as an unhealthy concern for Mia.

On the odd occasion when she had tried to stand up for herself, well she was no match for Franny, and before she knew it – and maybe she was just being silly to think it – but in some strange way she felt Franny was keeping her prisoner.

Sighing, Bree crossed over the road in the direction of Woolwich Church Street, not wanting her thoughts to ruin the day. She pushed the buggy along the pavement, minding the potholes, strewn rubbish and discarded pieces of well-chewed gum, and taking in the surroundings she’d never really explored before.

She’d managed to find a five-pound note in one of her jacket pockets, which must have been there from before the birth, and now she was going to get herself a McDonald’s. It was stupid really, but she couldn’t help smiling at the idea of being able to order a cheeseburger without anyone telling her she wasn’t allowed.

Cutting through a back alleyway, Bree sighed heavily as she unsuccessfully tried to stop thinking about her situation. How things had come to this, she didn’t know. One minute she was with Alfie thinking about their future, and the next? The next his long-term girlfriend was helping her hide out. It was all such a mess.

Although she’d walked out on Alfie, that didn’t make her stop caring … or stop loving him for that matter. Not that she’d ever tell Franny that. That was the last thing she would do, and she’d no doubt that it was possibly the last thing Franny would want to hear. The problem wasn’t Alfie, the problem had always been his lifestyle. And there was no way he was ever going to give it up. It was what made him tick. It was in his DNA but bringing a baby into that life and all that came with it – the danger, the people, the uncertainty – it just wasn’t the way she wanted to live.

It hadn’t been an easy decision and as much as it hurt to the point it felt at times like a sharp object was pressing into her chest, it’d been the right one, and she knew however much she missed, loved and adored Alfie, doing the right thing for Mia had to come first.

Having cleaned herself up in the public toilets, Shannon was now almost skipping down the road. She smiled to herself as she felt the money that Alfie had given her in her pocket. He’d been a strange guy. An odd guy. He hadn’t been bad-looking, actually he’d been really handsome, but it was weird that somebody, especially a bloke, had given her something for nothing.

She’d half expected him to be waiting around the corner for her, playing out some pervy role-play, a fantasy; him acting as her stalker and chasing her along the streets, only for it to end up with them having sex down some dirty, cold alleyway. But he hadn’t been there. He was nowhere to be seen. And although she hadn’t wanted to get off with him and be forced to earn out the fifty quid he’d given her, she’d actually been slightly disappointed because it’d been nice just to talk to somebody who didn’t treat her like she was something nasty stuck to the bottom of their shoe.

Still, it didn’t matter because now she’d be able to buy some decent crack off her dealer, and not just one measly rock.

Just the thought of it made her lick her lips, but they were so sore. Bloody Charlie. Maybe she’d give him a few days to calm down and then go around and see if he would take her in again. This wasn’t the first time he’d thrown her out and she doubted it’d be the last. Anyhow, she wasn’t going to worry about it because today had turned out better than she’d ever expected it to. If she’d been with Charlie right now all she’d have been doing was sucking some stinking old fellow’s cock, but as it stood, she was going to be able to get high. She giggled to herself. Life really wasn’t so bad after all.

She didn’t even mind that she’d have to travel further this time, as her dealer had moved. Yes, she could get some stuff from round Soho but the problem with that was all the dealers knew Charlie, which meant he’d find out she’d bought some rocks, which would mean he’d want to know where she got the money from. Besides, her dealer’s crack was some of the best around, and that’s all that really mattered.

Delighted at the thought of what the rest of the day held, Shannon crossed over Samuel Street by Woolwich Dockyard, making her way to Warspite Road, which was on the other side of the dual carriageway.

Running across the busy road at the same time as her sticking two fingers up and screaming obscenities at the passing lorry beeping its horn, Shannon hurried along, pulling up the sleeves of Alfie’s jumper.

As she turned into the quiet road full of derelict houses and empty factory units, Shannon stopped in her tracks, before running around the side of an old empty warehouse. She stared, squinting through the bright sunshine as she watched a woman pushing a buggy along the alleyway.

She continued to stare, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was … yes, it was. It was her. It was Bree. She hadn’t seen her for quite a while but now she was looking properly, there was no mistaking that face. The last time she’d seen Bree was ages ago. What was she doing round here?

About to wave, Shannon paused, and having thought for a moment, she stepped back into the shadows. Then, keeping her eyes firmly on Bree, Shannon pulled out her phone and dialled a number.

‘It’s me, I thought you might be interested … Guess who I’ve just seen pushing a pram.’