Jail Bird

‘Oh, thanks a bunch for that, Becks,’ snarled Lily. Then she shook her hands in front of her face, clutched at her head. ‘Sorry, Becks. I’m sorry. I just had to see her, today of all days…Jesus, Becks, my own daughter’s wedding and I didn’t even know the damned thing was happening, how do you think that made me feel? Like a fucking reject, that’s how. Which is what I am. I’m a bloody pariah. They looked at me…shit, they all looked at me like I was unhinged. Like I was going to cut their throats or something. And the girls. My girls…’ Lily’s voice trailed away. She shook her head. She couldn’t even get the words out.

‘Did…Si King see you there?’ asked Becks cautiously.

Lily looked up at her friend’s face. ‘Yeah,’ she said, fighting back more tears. ‘Oh yeah, he saw me. And Freddy too.’

‘Shit,’ said Becks, her chewing going into overdrive. ‘You gotta watch them two, Lily. You’ve got to be more careful.’

‘Why?’ Lily gave a mad laugh. ‘I ain’t done anything! And even if I had, I done the time for it. I done someone else’s time, Becks. Not mine. Someone else’s. Do you think that’s right?’

Becks shook her head.

‘No. Well neither do I.’

‘But Lily,’ Becks’s voice was tentative, her expression uneasy, ‘what can you do about it? It’s all too late now. It’s done. And you know what I think? I really think the best thing you can do is…take off somewhere. Just go away. Somewhere new. Start again, make a new life for yourself.’

Lily looked at Becks in surprise. ‘What?’ she said at last. ‘Just…go away? Forget my girls? Forget that some arsehole fitted me up for all this? You ain’t serious.’

‘I am,’ said Becks, leaning forward and stabbing the table with a French-manicured fingernail to emphasize her point. ‘I’m completely serious, Lils. If you stay around here…what will you do? How will you live?’

‘I’ve got plans,’ said Lily stubbornly.

‘Lils, listen to me for the love of God. The Kings got it in for you. You know that. It’s only a matter of time before they make their move, and…’ Becks’s voice faded. She stared at the table.

‘And what?’ prompted Lily.

‘And…look, I’m sorry, Lils, but Joe…he’s not happy about any of this. He don’t want trouble with the King brothers. Who’d want that? You’d have to be mental to upset that pair.’

Lily was staring at Becks’s face. Her eyes were still averted, avoiding contact with Lily’s own. ‘So what are you saying, Becks?’ she asked, but she knew, she knew what was coming.

‘Joe thinks, I mean, we think, that…oh fuck it all, Lily, we don’t think you should stay here any more. I’m sorry.’

Lily’s face was a mask now, hiding her hurt, hiding her shock. This was Becks, after all. Her best friend in all the world.

‘They’ve talked to Joe, have they?’ she asked, and her voice sounded small, strained – not her own.

Joe was on the firm: everyone in their circle was on the firm. Antagonizing the Kings was not a sensible option.

Becks said nothing. She nodded. Lily saw it then, in Becks’s eyes – the fear. She didn’t mind helping Lily, but there was a line and Lily had crossed it. It was all very well to help a mate in trouble, but when that help put you in bother with the Kings, then you had to say, enough.

‘I don’t mind if you want to tell the probation people you’re still staying here,’ said Becks hurriedly. ‘I talked to Joe about it – he don’t mind doing that much. We’ll cover for you, if you want.’

‘Right,’ said Lily. ‘Yeah. Okay. Thanks for that. I’ve got an appointment to see her here next week…’

‘No probs. You show up, I’ll be here, it’ll be cool.’

‘Right.’

The perfect end to a perfect day. Her daughters hated her guts and now Becks was turfing her out the door. Lily was dry-eyed now, numb with the shock of it all.

The doorbell rang.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Becks, glad of the interruption. Lily could see the relief etched on her face as she bolted from the kitchen and along the hall. She heard Becks talking to someone, a man’s voice, light and husky. For a moment her heart leapt into her throat and she thought: Si King, oh God help me, or is it that lunatic Freddy?

Becks came back into the kitchen. She didn’t bring the Kings with her. Lily, pale-faced and wretched, looked up at her. Becks’s expression was awkward, her glance slipping away from Lily’s.

‘It’s the private detective bloke,’ she said. ‘The one you phoned.’

Lily had forgotten she’d made this appointment. She’d forgotten everything, in the excitement of getting to the church to be humiliated, rejected. An image of Saz’s white, horrified face came into her brain again and she squeezed her eyes shut to block it out. The pain was awful.

She opened her eyes and stood up. She was still wearing the cream linen; it was creased to hell now. She hadn’t even had a wash since she’d got in, she’d been too shocked, too hurt. She scuffed on her trainers and left the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. She went along the hall to speak to Jack Rackland, who she hoped could work miracles. Somehow, she doubted it.

12

He wasn’t what she had expected. Actually she didn’t know what she had expected, some seedy old weasel of a bloke with thin hair, a raincoat and a dewdrop hanging off the end of his nose maybe, but the man who stood at the door in no way matched that description. He looked to be about thirty-five, and he was bulky but not fat, medium height, neatly turned out in a well-fitted suit, shirt and tie. He had a good head of straight dirty-blond hair, a tanned intelligent face and very direct heavy-lidded light blue eyes. He was a good-looking man, and that surprised her. Not a weasel at all.

And here I am looking like shit, thought Lily, embarrassed.

‘Mrs King?’

‘Yeah, that’s me.’ Lily made an awkward gesture back at the kitchen. ‘Look, we’d better walk, my friend’s busy…’

She didn’t want to take him in the house, not after what Becks had said. She had some pride left – not much, admittedly – and she wasn’t about to infringe on Becks’s territory when it had just been made clear that she wasn’t welcome there any more.

‘Okay.’ He looked faintly surprised, but he turned back toward the gate and started walking. Lily came out, shut the front door and walked alongside him. In silence they went along the street, heading for the park. It was a gorgeous day and Lily should have been at her daughter’s wedding reception, mother of the bride, happy as could be.

Instead she was here. Ousted from her friend’s house. Talking to some dubious bloke who was probably going to tell her things she didn’t even want to hear about her late husband. Mud-stained and teary from Saz’s attack on her. She looked a mess. She felt a mess. She felt as if all the strength had drained out of her and she was glad when they reached the park and sat down on a bench beneath the shade of a big chestnut tree. They were close to the paddling pool, and they sat there in silence for a few moments, watching the kids splashing around, carefree, having fun, their mothers flopped out on the grass, relaxed but ever-watchful. Lily couldn’t help remembering her two when they’d been little. Happy days. All gone now.

‘I wasn’t sure I ought to come,’ he said.

Lily turned her head and looked at his face. He was a big man. He took up a lot of the bench. She’d got out of the habit of men, she realized, banged up with a load of hormonal women. ‘Oh? Why?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s an old case. I worked for Mrs Thomson, gathering information about women she suspected a particular man to be involved with.’

‘And you know that man was my husband, Leo King,’ said Lily. ‘And Mrs Thomson was “involved” too. With my husband.’

He looked at her. There was a brief flare of something like amusement in his eyes. ‘Look, whatever the ins and outs of it, the client’s always right, Mrs King. The client’s paying for the privilege.’

Ah yes, payment. She hadn’t thought about what he’d want for this. She hoped he wouldn’t ask for anything up front. She had a little cash from her prison work, but it wouldn’t be enough, she knew that. Nowhere near enough.

Did that slapper Adrienne have some brass neck, or what? she wondered angrily. Behaving like a betrayed wife and tracking all Leo’s other whores down.

‘Have you kept the records? I mean, you found them all. But have you still got their details on file?’ she asked him.

‘Twelve, thirteen years ago?’ He shook his head. ‘Unlikely. I don’t even remember that far back. Or not much, anyway. There was a nurses’ hostel, maybe. Something involving nurses, anyway. I’ve thought about it, racked my brains, but no good.’

Shit.

She wondered whether he was telling the truth. If he had to find them all over again, it could be costly for her, and a nice little earner for him. Being in the nick made you doubt people. Made you cover your own arse at all times.

‘You bullshitting me?’ she asked him bluntly.

Again that glint of humour. ‘I wouldn’t dare, Mrs King. You blew your husband’s head off. You’ve just got out of stir. You’ve got a face on you like the wrath of God. Do you think I’d want to upset you?’

Lily looked at him. Their eyes locked. He didn’t look the type of man to be fearful of anything, much less a shabby-looking blonde. She’d always thought she was a good judge of people, but fuck it, look where that had got her. But…she thought she could trust him. Just a bit. Maybe. But she had to keep her guard up, keep any hint of weakness hidden away.

‘Could you find them again?’ she asked. ‘Could you get me their names – which might be different now, I suppose. And maybe their old addresses?’

‘The woman I worked for…she was mentioned in the court case, wasn’t she?’

Lily nodded. ‘Adrienne Thomson’s an old friend of mine, we go way back.’

He let out his breath. ‘You want to choose your friends a bit more carefully, Mrs King.’

Don’t I bloody well know it.

‘I’ll need a down payment, get me started. Three hundred ought to do it.’

‘Dream on,’ said Lily. ‘I’m short of readies right now.’ And no way was she going cap in hand to Becks, not now.

‘I’ve got to live, Mrs King,’ he said, his eyes still holding hers. ‘I’ve got exes, just like everyone else. And I’ve got to say, no cash, no deal.’

‘I didn’t say I couldn’t get some,’ said Lily. ‘Soon, anyway.’

‘Soon? Like, when?’

‘Like a few days’ time.’ And she wasn’t looking forward to that event, not at all.

‘Are you bullshitting me, Mrs King?’

‘I never bullshit, Mr Rackland. Never.’ Her eyes were steady on his. ‘Do you believe me?’

He was silent, his eyes searching her face. ‘You know what?’ he said finally. ‘Funnily enough, I do. Which might make me a fucking fool or a sucker for a pretty face, but there you go.’

‘Are you married, Mr Rackland?’

‘Jack. Call me Jack. We’re separated, me and Monica.’

‘Who cheated? You, or her?’

He paused for a beat, looked down, away. ‘Her,’ he said. ‘Said I was working too much, didn’t pay her enough attention.’

‘Hurts like fuck, don’t it?’ Lily smiled grimly. ‘But not as much as being banged up for something you didn’t do. Not as much as losing your husband, and your home, and your kids, and doing twelve long damned years for something someone else did.’

‘Are you really saying you didn’t do it?’

‘Got it in one.’

He let out a low whistle. ‘If that’s true…if that happened to me…’ He shook his big head, leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees.

‘Yeah, what?’

His head came round and his eyes met hers. ‘I’d want to kill some bastard. And I’d make it nice and slow.’

‘Jack,’ said Lily, ‘I do believe we’re reading from the same page.’

He nodded and stood up. ‘You’ll get me those contact details? Then I’ll get on it. I can wait a week for the money, no longer. Then I’m dropping this like a hot potato, that’s a promise.’

‘I think that’s fair,’ said Lily. She stood up too. They shook hands. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

He turned and walked away, back across the park.

Lily paused there, looking at the happy scene in the paddling pool. Happy kids. Her kids would be dancing at Saz’s reception now, Saz and her groom – Christ, she didn’t even know his name! – would be cutting the cake; there would be speeches, toasts, love and laughter. And here she was, standing alone, watching other people’s families having fun, not sure whether or not to go back to Becks’s place at all. She wasn’t welcome there. Fuck, she wasn’t welcome anywhere.

She thought of her parents. Dad was gone, but Mum was still standing, so far as Lily knew. She’d live to torment, that one. She could call on her – if she really wanted to endure another hour or so of prune-faced bollocking, which was all she ever got from her mother; all she had ever got, come to that. Mum had visited her, just once, after she’d gone down for Leo’s killing. Just once, shortly after she’d first been put inside.

She’d been new to prison life, terrified, depressed. And Mum had come in and said – God, would she ever forget those words? – ‘This is where I always thought you’d end up, Lily. You’re a bad ’un. They always say the quiet ones are the worst, and by God you’ve proved them right.’

Did she really want more of that? Answer: no.

She walked off across the park, going back toward Becks’s place. She’d pack up her stuff and bugger off, that was all she could do now. Find a little B & B or something. Sleep in a doorway if she had to. Anything was better than staying at Becks’s when Becks had made it plain she was surplus to requirements.

She crossed the road and started walking back along the rows of houses toward Becks’s place when a long black car pulled in to the kerb. A man jumped out of the back, grabbed her arm, and yanked her off-balance.

‘Hey!’ she yelled, but her feet went from under her and she was half carried, half pulled into the car. She found herself lying across the back seat with a man on either side of her. Fear shot through her like a hot knife through butter.

Oh shit, she thought, Freddy King.

‘What the…?’ she gasped out.

One of the men, a huge bruiser, lifted a thick finger and pointed it at her. She remembered Freddy, outside the prison, pointing his finger at her like a gun. Yeah, this was Freddy’s work all right. ‘Shut up,’ he said.

Lily shut up. The car zoomed off. She was trapped. She was finished, even before she had properly begun.

13

There were four of them in the car, and she thought they were just going to drive her somewhere, hurt her, then finish her off. She could hear her heart beating like a trapped animal’s, she was so scared. Her bowels felt liquid, her stomach was churning into knots. Oh God. She didn’t know how she was going to get through this.

How you get through everything, she thought. Alone.

Her eyes filled with tears; it was weak but she couldn’t help it. She really was alone. Completely alone. Her friend had abandoned her. Her daughters, her lovely girls, had rejected her. She would never, ever forget the expressions on their faces when they’d seen her at the church. Hatred. Fear. Loathing. It was more than any mother could take.

And now, this. The end of it all. She was terrified, but she was also sort of relieved. It would be over. All the suffering. All that time she’d done, and all for nothing. All for someone else’s crime. Now she was tired, and so alone. She didn’t mind dying; but she hoped they didn’t hurt her too much first.

She thought they would. She saw it again, Freddy King outside Askham, aiming his finger at her, mouthing the words: You won’t see it coming.

And guess what? She hadn’t. He’d got that right.

The light was going as the car crunched onto gravel and skidded to a halt. Sudden silence descended. Into Lily’s mind came Saz’s face, filled with hate and horror. She screwed her eyes tight shut, held back the tears. She’d wanted so much to make things right, and now she wouldn’t get the chance. That stung her, hurt her bad. Her lovely girls. Lost to her forever.

They flung open the car doors and she was manhandled out onto the drive of a big house. She noticed nothing else about it, only that it was big. She was nearly shitting herself with fear now. Why had they brought her to a house? Why hadn’t they just driven her off into the forest, topped her there?

She was bundled into a hallway; big again, huge – maybe Victorian, she hadn’t a clue. Terror was freezing her brain like dry ice. Then into a room with an empty fireplace – it was summer, too hot for fires – but a nice room. Sofas in it, the smell of polish in the air. She was shoved down onto one of the sofas.

‘Wait there,’ said one of the faces.

Jesus, the King boys are going to drag this out, she thought numbly. They’re going to get their money’s worth out of this.

The men left the room. She sat there, swallowing hard, trying not to succumb to total hysteria. She glanced over at the long closed curtains. Perhaps there were French doors there, an escape route?

The inner door opened.

‘It’s locked,’ said a low, masculine voice. ‘All the windows are locked. In case you were wondering.’

Lily turned her head.

Nick O’Rourke stood there, leaning casually back against the door, a big and threatening presence with his dark hair gleaming in the subdued light of the room, watching her steadily with his nearly black eyes, his gaze very intense. He still wore the black morning coat he’d been wearing at the church, but he’d removed his tie and opened his shirt collar.

Lily braced herself. She hadn’t known Nick was in tight with Freddy and Si. He’d been best man, best friend and business associate to Leo, but his relationship with Leo’s brothers had – she thought – never been anything other than cool. Obviously she thought wrong.

‘What the hell…?’ she said weakly.

‘What the hell is right, Lily.’ Nick O’Rourke walked forward and flopped down into an armchair. ‘Like, what the hell are you playing at?’

He stretched out his long legs and his calf brushed against hers. She flinched back as if burnt.

‘I don’t know what you’re on about,’ she said. She looked at the inner door, knowing that any minute now the heavies were going to come back in and start working her over. New alliances had been made, alliances she knew nothing about. Ignorance wasn’t bliss at all. It was going to be the death of her.

Just get on with it then, she thought. Let’s have it done.

‘What I’m on about is this,’ he said, and his voice sounded strained, as if he was making an effort to control his temper. ‘Are you stark, staring mad?’

Oh, so first he wanted an apology for something. ‘You mean, turning up at Saz’s wedding today?’ she asked, having to cough to get the words out, her throat was so parched from fear. ‘Okay. I admit it. It was a stupid thing to do. All right?’

‘Stupid?’ The dark, dark eyes widened as he stared at her. ‘Oh, no Lily.’ He gave a bark of laughter, but he didn’t sound at all amused. ‘You’ve gone way beyond that point on the road. You passed stupid right back at the last fucking roundabout. Now you’re driving through mad. What the hell were you thinking?’

Lily swallowed hard, blinked back more panicky tears.

‘I wanted…’ she gulped. ‘…I just wanted to see them. Saz getting married, how could I miss that?’

He was shaking his head, his eyes moving over her. Lily cringed, very aware of what she looked like: mud-spattered, crumpled, tear-stained; a complete and utter wreck.

‘And look at the fucking state of you,’ he said in irritation.

As if that’s going to matter now, she thought.

‘I just…had to be there,’ she said lamely.

‘No, Lily, you didn’t. Si was there. Freddy was there. You didn’t have to be there at all, are you totally insane? Do you for one single minute think that your daughters wanted to see you there today? Do you think they behaved as if they were glad to see you? I suppose that silly cow Becks told you about it?’

Lily shrugged. She wasn’t going to drop Becks in it; she couldn’t grass up a mate – even if Becks had made it clear to her that she wasn’t welcome any more. That wasn’t her fault, anyway. Becks was just frightened, and she was right to be frightened: her and Joe didn’t want trouble with the Kings.

‘Yeah, I bet it was,’ he went on. He looked exasperated. ‘Fuck it, Lily, how long you been out?’

‘Yesterday. I got out yesterday,’ said Lily.

‘And today you’ve upset the whole bloody applecart. Jesus, that must be some sort of record.’

Lily swallowed hard. All right. She knew she’d messed up. But she’d been desperate, couldn’t he see that?

‘They’re my girls,’ she said, and her voice was a little fiercer, a bit stronger.

‘They. Don’t. Want. To. Know. You,’ he said with brutal emphasis.

‘No…’ Lily shook her head, denying it, blanking it out even though she knew he was right.

‘Yes, Lily. It’s the damned truth. How would you feel, if your father’s murderer pitched up at your wedding?’

Lily was still shaking her head, biting back more bitter tears. She’d dated Nick O’Rourke before she got involved with Leo but now she wondered why. He was such a bastard. Leo had been all flash, gold rings winking in the light, thick gold chains around his neck, everyone’s big brother, the one with the barrel chest and the big booming laugh; you could hear him in the next street, doling out cash and champagne and bonhomie to all and sundry. But Nick…Nick had been her very first love, her forever regret in life. She’d been seriously and hopelessly in love with him before Leo had come on the scene. Seeing him in the years that followed at parties, weddings, christenings, always with a new girl on his arm – Nick the playboy – had hurt badly at first, but the hurt had been dulled over time. And then he had married the exquisitely beautiful Julia, Leo’s cousin. That had hurt Lily, too, but only distantly; the pain wasn’t so fresh, she wasn’t a besotted young girl any more. Life had gone on; they had taken different paths. She had accepted that.

Nick was so different to Leo. Quieter, darker – cleverer and more cunning, she had always thought. If Leo was sun and brightness, then Nick was the magnetic pull of the dark. Nick didn’t put all the goods out in the shop window for all to see; he kept something back. He was a thinker. It made him more dangerous than Leo could ever have hoped to be.

And who better to get Leo out of the picture? thought Lily suddenly. His business partner. His oldest and best friend. Suspicion would never fall on Nick, but Leo could have screwed him on a deal. Nick was a brooder; he remembered every slight inflicted upon him back to the cradle. Nick could have decided he’d had a gutful.

‘You’re such a bastard,’ she said it out loud, felt better for it.

‘Yeah, but I’m the bastard who’s pulled your arse out of the crap today,’ said Nick, unmoved by her words. ‘Freddy went ballistic when you showed up, he was saying he was going to do all sorts.’

Lily stared at him. ‘And you thought you’d come in on your white charger and whisk me away, did you?’ Her voice was trembling with emotion. Most of it was rage. He’d scared her witless, him and his bloody boys. And now – was she hearing this right? – he was saying that he’d had her snatched, brought here, just because Freddy King was mouthing off as usual?

‘Something like that.’ He gave a thin smile.

‘Freddy’s always threatened all sorts,’ she said.