If people wondered at the close friendship between a night-club owner and a murderess, no one questioned it. Roselle knew her car, clothes and carefully modulated voice gave her all the creds she needed. She also kept in close contact with Doreen, and between them they did what they could.
Though Susan had once asked her to take on all her kids Roselle had refused, and Susan being Susan had understood and never asked her again. Roselle knew she was pleased Wendy had her to turn to when she needed her.
Wendy was Susan’s biggest worry and privately Roselle knew why that was. But the girl seemed to have got over her trauma, one most people assumed was over her mother’s violence. It had been a silent conspiracy. Everyone in the know had kept stumm and let nature and the courts take their course.
‘I’m really looking forward to seeing her, though, Roselle. I do miss her. Sometimes of a night I think about the little things she used to do for me and the others. The times she went without food so we could eat. The times she sat up with us when we were ill. Made us laugh when we were down. I remember once, it was the summer holidays and she was skint as usual so we all had a picnic in the back garden. It was hilarious, all the neighbours thought we was mad. Like we were the Royal family or something. We had Marmite sandwiches and Mr Kipling cakes. It was a scream.’
Wendy smiled, her eyes misty as she remembered that day. The heat, the flies, the kids playing cricket in the alley.
‘Then me dad came home and spoiled it all as usual.’ She shook her head, remembering.
‘He didn’t half give her a hiding that day. We all ran into Doreen’s when it started like we always did. But we could hear him shouting at her, and her hitting the furniture as he cracked her one.’
She was quiet again, full of her own thoughts.
‘I hope she listens to me on Friday. If she doesn’t, I don’t know what we’ll do.’
Roselle shrugged.
‘Your mother has her own reasons for everything, and they’re good ones. Don’t you ever forget that.’
Wendy smiled but her face was so sad behind the smile that Roselle felt an urge to take her into her arms.
‘I’ll never forget that. I could never forget what me mum’s done for me. Never. And one day I’ll pay her back.’
Roselle sipped her coffee and nodded.
‘Of course you will, darlin’. Of course you will.’
Susan was filling her mug with hot water on the bottom landing when she was approached by Rhianna. She had been expecting it since her arrival and was amazed that it had taken so long.
Three days, in fact, before Rhianna asked her just what the score was.
Now it was finally happening she felt sick with nervousness. For all Susan’s reputation, she wasn’t a hard case. She just pretended she was to save herself being used as a gofer.
From her first days in prison she had realised that what had happened to Barry frightened people. They did not want the same thing happening to them, so they afforded her respect. Gave her the kudos they thought she expected. All she really wanted was to get her head down and do her time in peace.
Hopefully once she’d explained this to the other woman she’d be left alone.
Rhianna had her hair in plaits, hundreds of them, tiny tight curly plaits that made her look younger and softer than she actually was. She had also filled a mug with scalding water and Susan watched her warily.
‘So, what’s the score, Dalston? What is it you want?’
Susan looked her in the eye, hoping her own rapidly beating heart and shaking hands would not betray how scared she really was.
She shrugged nonchalantly.
‘All I want is to wait for me appeal in peace. I don’t want anything you’ve got or that you’ve already worked for. I have no intention of taking over any rackets or causing you any difficulties whatsoever. But I won’t take any shit either. I’ll walk side by side with you, but I will not be put down or used by you or anyone. In short, I just want to do me time. Okay?’
Rhianna, who had been half expecting a fight of some kind, also relaxed. Susan’s arms looked very meaty and big and more than capable of giving someone a good crack. Just thinking about what she had done made the other woman fearful.
‘So what you saying?’
Susan sighed heavily, feeling her fear and relishing it even as she hated it.
‘What I’m saying is, carry on as usual. Me and you could be mates or we could be enemies. What I don’t want is to be a partner in any of your enterprises. In other words, leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone. Simple as that.’
Rhianna still couldn’t believe her luck.
‘You don’t want a bit of nothing?’
Susan shook her head.
‘Just a bit of fucking peace, if that’s possible in this dump.’
Rhianna laughed gently.
‘You’ll get peace, don’t worry about that. And if I can be of any help, you let me know. Anything you want I’ll get it for you if it can be got, okay?’
She held out a carefully manicured hand with long purple talons and Susan shook it.
‘Fair enough, Rhianna, I do need some smokes.’
She smiled.
‘You got them. Free for the first time as a sort of moving in present. After that it’s the going rate.’
Susan laughed then and both women relaxed.
‘Drop by my cell for a coffee, if you want?’
Susan was pleased to be offered the hand of friendship.
‘Is it a normal cell with normal things in it?’
Rhianna laughed. ‘Matty getting to you already, eh? Listen, take my advice. She’s a lot shrewder than she looks. Don’t be deceived by the fluffy little woman act, she’s a brainbox in high heels. You dig what I’m saying?’
Susan smiled.
‘I had sussed that much out for meself, but she still drives me fucking nuts.’
‘You want a bit of soft? I can arrange it for you. Take your mind off your worries.’
Susan shook her head.
‘Listen, Rhianna, lesbianism has never done anything for me. In fact, I ain’t even that enamoured of men.’
The black woman laughed, showing extraordinarily white teeth.
‘Outside I don’t touch soft either, but in here it’s nice. A bit of company, a few laughs. Some soft sex. Takes the bite out of the days, you know?’
‘Well, thanks for the offer but I’ll pass it up if you don’t mind.’
Rhianna and Susan looked at one another fully for the first time.
‘You got a bad rep, you know. I never heard anything about you being likeable,’ Rhianna observed.
Susan heard the surprise in the other woman’s voice.
‘Well, to be truthful, I could say the same about you. Maybe I will have that coffee after all.’
They walked to Rhianna’s cell, which like Susan’s was up on the fours. As they walked up the metal stairs from landing to landing their closeness was noticed and carefully monitored by all the others. People who had tried to bet on the outcome of a possible fight were saddened, but everyone was glad to see that the first confrontation was finally over and done with.
Inside the cell, Susan finally relaxed. As Rhianna made the coffee she looked at the pictures of Robert Redford and Spandau Ballet and sighed. This was more like it, this was real. The cell was full of contraband and mess, much as her own had always looked, and she felt she had finally found a kindred spirit.
A small radio played rocker’s revenge and easy listening reggae music. Steel Pulse stared down from above the bunks, and make up and cheap moisturisers were strewn everywhere. It was like a young girl’s bedroom, smelling of sweat, smoke and Lux soap.
It felt right to Susan. After three days of classical music and Monet paintings it was like she had finally come home.
But, most importantly, she’d had her biggest fear taken away and could finally relax properly and just get on with doing her time. Then she could go home, at last she could go home. She wou
ld have paid off everyone’s debts by then.
Especially her own.
Chapter Twenty-Two
June answered the front door with a big smile on her face and a large drink in her hand.
‘Can I help you, love?’ Her voice was slurred with alcohol and full of camaraderie.
Colin smiled amiably.
‘I’m here on behalf of your daughter Susan.’
June hitched up her ample breasts with her arm and smiled again.
‘Are you from the papers?’
There was hope in her voice and Colin was saddened that a mother could exploit her own daughter so easily.
‘Actually I’m her solicitor. I need to talk to you. Would it be possible for me to come inside?’
As he spoke a rasping male voice came from within the flat, shouting, ‘Shut the fucking door, June, will ya!’
Colin took the opportunity to step across the threshold.
The flat was a real culture shock. The outside was pure council: dirty balcony, rubbish everywhere, the smell of urine. Inside was a different kettle of fish. It was all white walls, glass tables and white leather furniture. Dark brown shag-pile carpet and chocolate brown velvet curtains finished off the décor on which no expense had been spared but it looked as if it could all do with a good clean or at least a dusting.
In the lounge Joey sat in front of a large TV screen and video unit. Colin knew just where the money had come from to furnish the place like this.
June saw his expression and preened herself.
‘Lovely, ain’t it? I love seeing people’s faces after they step in from out there. We bought the whole room ex-display. Just went in and bought the lot, even the pictures on the wall.’
Her voice was full of pride.
‘I seen a room just like it on Bergerac once. Now, what’s the little mare been up to this time?’
He heard the note of exasperation in her voice and wondered at a mother who could be so callous, so cold-blooded about her own child. He was getting an insight into Susan’s upbringing that was as frightening as it was fascinating.
‘You don’t remember me, do you?’
June shook her head.
‘I came to see you a while ago, about the children?’
Her face dropped.
‘I remember you now - the scruffy git with the trainers.’
Colin smiled at her description.
‘Is that what you’re back for now? To hassle me again? I don’t want any of them kids. She should have thought of them when she was hammering the fuck out of her old man.’
‘I think, Mrs McNamara, that was exactly what was on her mind, don’t you?’
Joey took his eyes from the TV long enough to bellow, ‘Get that geek out of here before I give him a right hander. I’m sick and tired of that little mare and all the hag she’s brought on this family. The shame and humiliation of being part of something like that cuts deep, mate. Fucking deep.’
Colin looked at the heavyset man with his designer tracksuit and badly permed hair.
‘Your daughter was regularly beaten, Mr McNamara, she was used viciously and she retaliated. That’s the long and the short of it. I think she had one too many right handers, don’t you?’
Colin was frightened inside. He knew Joey McNamara was a violent thug like his son-in-law. He also knew that Joey had made a mint out of selling stories about his daughter’s escapades. Had painted her as a violent woman intent on getting her own way. Where money was concerned this couple obviously had no morals, scruples or care. All they saw were the pound signs.
Joey got to his feet. Colin saw how big he was and his heart sank.
‘I’d better warn you, Mr McNamara, that I am in the legal profession and I will have no option but to call in the police if you raise your hand to me.’
Joey looked at his wife and she pulled the young man from the room.
‘Don’t wind him up, he’s got a short fuse, son. All this with Susan has taken its toll, I can tell you.’
He could hear the lies in June’s voice and see them in her eyes. He knew they were frightened of the law as people like them always were. Not the police but the lawyers and the barristers. People in suits scared them. It was a class thing. People in suits owned houses and paid tax. People like the McNamaras couldn’t understand them and would never try.
At the front door Colin tried to talk to June again.
‘Listen to me, Susan is in danger of losing her children. Not so much the older ones but baby Rosie - her foster parents are going to try for adoption. They could be granted leave.’
June smiled.
‘I hope they are, mate, give her a decent chance in life. More chance than that murdering bitch could ever do.’
Colin looked into her eyes.
‘You really mean that, don’t you? You can’t see that a mother’s love, a real mother’s love, is probably the most important thing a child can have in its life. It means more than money, more than anything.
‘I came here today to try and appeal to your decent side, your mothering side. But I was wasting my time, wasn’t I? All that money you made off your daughter’s back and you didn’t buy your grandchildren so much as a packet of sweets. You disgust me, you really do. But whatever Susan did or didn’t do, Mrs McNamara, her children adore her. Which I suspect is more than you can say about yours, isn’t it?’
June opened the front door and literally turfed him out of her home. A woman was walking along the balcony and stopped to watch them. June started shouting at her.
‘Had your fucking look, have you? Want a fucking photograph to keep the memory, eh?’
She slammed the door in Colin’s face and as embarrassed as he felt he was glad that his final words had at least hit home. As he walked down to his car he heard a voice calling him.
‘Oi, Mister!’ He turned and saw Debbie walking towards him.
‘I just seen me mum turf you out. Are you here about Susan?’
He nodded.
‘I’m her sister Deborah. How is she?’
He sighed.
‘Not very good to be honest. The photos in the papers didn’t do you justice, you know.’
Debbie smiled. ‘I never took a good photo, not even on me wedding day. I’m one of them people who look fatter as opposed to thinner, if you see what I mean?’
He smiled and found himself warming to her then.
‘How are the kids?’
He shrugged.
‘Not too good. They miss her dreadfully.’
Debbie sighed. ‘Well, they would. I mean, in fairness she was a brilliant mother, old Sue. They was good kids, all of them.’
‘They still are good kids. Why don’t you go to see them, see for yourself how they are?’
She shook her head.
‘My Jamesie wouldn’t swallow that. He wants me to keep out of it. I just wondered, that’s all. You know, curiosity like.’
He knew she was lying and wondered how a family became torn apart.
‘Does this Jamesie have to know everything you do? I’m sure the children would be glad to see you. See someone they know. Especially the younger ones.’
He could see the confusion in her eyes and knew she would love to see them.
‘Well, you know where they are, don’t you? There’s nothing to stop you from popping in if you’re round that way, is there?’
He left it open, hoping she took the hint.
‘What are you doing for Susan then?’
‘Attempting to get her to agree to an appeal. She requested one but now it seems she’s not bothering to try and help herself.’
Debbie smiled.
‘She just wanted out of Durham, mate, if I know my sister. Used it to get nearer the kids for a while. It must be torture for her, they was her life.’
He could hear the underlying note of envy in her voice.
‘Do you have children at all?’
Debbie shrugged nonchalantly.
‘I don’t, no, but me old man
does.’
Colin heard the hurt in her voice and didn’t know what to say to her.
‘Well, these kids are motherless in their own way. I’m sure an auntie would be very welcome at this time. A familiar face, someone they know. Think about it.’
She didn’t answer directly.
‘Give Sue all the best for me, will you? Tell her I’ll try and write or something, okay?’
He nodded, and watched her walk away on high heels that were obviously killing her, her unfashionable mini skirt displaying short fat legs and her backcombed hair bleached blonde. Colin wondered at this ill-assorted family where everyone seemed to be estranged or at loggerheads. But rivalry in families was common, especially in the East End he had been told. It had taken him all this time to see it first hand and it depressed him. No matter what happened within families, surely the children should still be a priority?
As he walked back to his car he cursed. At some time in the last twenty minutes someone had removed his side window and his radio.
‘Shit!’
That set the seal on an already lousy day.
Susan was hyper. It was Friday and she was seeing the children, all four of them. She had woken at five after hardly any sleep. It was the second visit since she had been in Holloway and she was dying to see them again.
Matty laughed as she saw her making up her bunk. This was something Susan had recently started to do as it saved so much aggravation and stopped Matty’s constant nagging about confined spaces and mess.
‘See, if you do it as soon as you get up it’s done, finished and over with.’
Susan laughed, her good mood embracing even Matty whom she still found wearing. Her constant tidying made Susan fit to scream most of the time. But she had to admit it did make life easier.
‘I have a visit from my brief today - you’d like Geraldine actually. She’s really on the ball but also a nice person. Which, with briefs, is rare, let me tell you. In my experience most of them look down on the rest of us,’ Matty drawled.
Susan nodded.
‘Well, you’re the expert on briefs. Especially murdering them.’
She laughed at her own wit then apologised. ‘I was only joking, Matty, you know I don’t really mean it.’