Two Women

  Rhianna crossed the large rec room to talk to her. As she approached Matty said loudly, ‘Not today, Rhianna. I’m not in the mood.’

  Rhianna sat down beside her anyway.

  The rec room was noisy. A TV blared out and a radio tried to compete. A nature programme was on, Survival. Polar bears chased one another around a frozen ice cap trying to mate. The women shouted out lewd and obscene remarks. The radio played pop music. It was bedlam.

  At the far side of the room other women played cards, drank coffee and smoked. A hazy fug hung in the air giving the place a look of squalor.

  Still Matty ignored her, and still Rhianna sat there waiting for the other woman to talk.

  Sarah cruised over to them, her pupils dilated, mouth moving in time to a song no one could distinguish.

  ‘Any chance of a drink, Rhianna? On tick so to speak. Until I get me next share out?’

  Rhianna shook her head.

  ‘No chance. You’re too out of it, Sarah. If you’re not careful you’ll fall asleep and that will be it. You’ll be finished.’

  Sarah sighed.

  ‘Sounds pretty good to me.’

  Matty wiped one hand across her face. It showed her anger.

  ‘Everything sounds good to you, you stupid little bitch.’

  Matty’s voice was heavy with menace.

  ‘What are you complaining for? You’re on remand for a piddling offence. You’ll walk from court on time served so why don’t you leave us alone and keep your stupid druggy ramblings to yourself?’

  She stood up and pushed the girl none too gently from her.

  ‘Go on, piss off before I lose my temper. You’re a spoiled little overgrown schoolgirl. Stop whining and keep away from me. If you know what’s good for your fucking face.’

  The punch was as hard as it was unexpected. No one would have credited Sarah with the nous to have done it.

  Women went quiet.

  Sarah stood there unsteadily, her fists clenched.

  On the TV David Attenborough’s voice extolled the merits of the polar ice cap and on the radio the Sister Sledge sang ‘We Are Family’.

  ‘Come on then, hard nut! Hit me back.’

  Sarah was up for a fight. Matty stared into her unfocussed eyes and pushed her away once more.

  ‘You’re too out of it to hit. Can’t you see that, you silly bitch?’

  Sarah slapped her this time, a ringing slap.

  Matty’s cheek was stinging from it.

  Picking up her thick white coffee mug she hit the girl with as much force as she could across her cheekbone. It collapsed beneath the blow and the girl, watched by everyone including the POs, dropped first to her knees and then to the hard floor. Then it was bedlam.

  POs were everywhere. Rhianna was kneeling by the girl, trying to see the damage, and Matty was hustled from the room to the block.

  There was pandemonium. Matty merely smiled demurely as she walked out. The PO in charge would have bet a month’s wages that Enderby would never get physical. It just proved how wrong you could be.

  Rhianna stayed with the unconscious girl until the doctor arrived then went back to her cell. Sitting on the bed with her head in her hands, she wondered at a system that put the Mattys of this world inside with Sarah and the other young girls.

  Susan burst in.

  ‘Is that right, Matty done poor little Sarah?’

  Rhianna nodded.

  ‘She’s not right - something happened to her last week. On her visit,’ Susan explained.

  Rhianna shook her head.

  ‘Don’t make excuses for her, Susan. She’d have hurt someone some time. It’s the way things are in here.’

  She looked into her friend’s face.

  ‘If you ain’t like it when you arrive, you’re like it when you leave. Remember that.’

  Susan left and went back to her own cell.

  She looked at the enclosed space, at Matty’s hair products and make up. Saw her hairbrushes and conditioners and felt a terrible sadness sweep over her. Was this going to be the next phase of her own life? Violent episodes and unbalanced people? Different cell mates, different faces?

  She felt the walls close in on her and willed herself to swallow down the panic inside her.

  Matty had just fucked her appeal.

  If she was nicked she was finished.

  But Susan wondered deep inside if that was what the other woman wanted.

  Roselle liked the club during the week. It was quieter, soothing. Even the strippers didn’t bother much week nights. Just went through the motions, sure in the knowledge the men watching didn’t want too much from them. It was all very relaxed.

  She walked through to the main dance floor and saw Denise going through her act. She liked Denise, a large girl with tits that hit her waist and thighs that could crack walnuts. The men always liked her too; she was attainable for some of them, which was basically what they were after. Men paid for women they could not get unless they were prostitutes. They knew a woman like her would blank them if they asked for a date.

  The thought made Roselle smile and Mad Mary, one of the older girls, cackled with her. Mad Mary worked week nights because she knew that at her age and with her looks she wouldn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance come the weekend.

  Mary actually drank the club champagne. She drank anything.

  Roselle looked at her then, as if for the first time. The lines around the eyes and mouth, the hard glint in her eye. The professional smile.

  ‘Any chance of a sub, Roselle?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Not a hope in fuck, Mary. If I give you a sub you’ll piss off and go somewhere else until you owe them money then you’ll come back. I’ve sussed you out.’

  Mary wasn’t at all put out by this bit of logic. In fact it made her laugh harder.

  ‘True, but I’m gasping for a drink.’

  Roselle walked past her without talking but at the bar she told the barman to take Mad Mary a large vodka and Coke.

  She wasn’t as hard as she made out.

  In the foyer she glanced around her professionally. All was in order. Linette, a tall Spanish-looking girl with masses of curly hair and large doe eyes, was on reception. She had hips like a battleship and small hard tits. Staying put behind a counter was her best hope. She was used when it got packed and all the other girls were gone case. Linette also had a rather noticeable speech impediment.

  Mandrax made her slur her words.

  Roselle ignored her and walked out into the cold night air.

  The doorman, Harry Allbright, smiled at her.

  ‘Nice night.’

  She nodded but didn’t answer him.

  Harry was a godsend. He didn’t drink or smoke and would not touch a tom with a barge pole. He hated them. He had a nice wife, nice kids and a nice house in Beacontree.

  ‘You look upset, girl. Everything okay?’

  His voice was gruff yet concerned.

  She smiled.

  ‘Just feeling a bit down, that’s all.’

  He shook his leonine head in despair.

  ‘It’s the clubs do it to you. All that fucking pretence, I hate it. But at least it pays the bills.’

  She stood in silence listening to him.

  ‘They’re all slags, the lot of them. Depress anyone they would with the lives they lead. No respect, see. No respect for themselves, no respect for no one.’

  She walked back into the warmth of the club. Without realising it, Harry had depressed her more than ever.

  Joseph was skiing with his school. The thought made her happy. He would have it all, all she was capable of giving him. Love and money. The things she’d never had.

  She thought of Wendy then, and the others. But Wendy in particular.

  In her office she looked at a photo she kept in a drawer. It was of her and Barry. He looked beautiful, like a male model. His eyes were smiling, and he was happy, really happy.

  Then she opened her bag and took out a
photo of her and Wendy, taken at her flat. The girl was so like him, almost identical.

  Yet the child she was beginning to love like her own had been taken viciously by the man she had once loved. How could she not have seen him for what he was?

  But she had known, deep inside. That night Susan had turned up, in her old blanket coat, smelling of babies and pregnancy and no money. Roselle had known then just who she was mixed up with. She had known Barry Dalstons all her life until Ivan. She had gone back into the gutter with Barry and that frightened her more than anything. It must not be allowed to happen again. For the sake of Wendy and maybe others like her.

  This whole experience with Barry and his family had changed Roselle. Had made her look at herself and her life and decide she had to make major changes.

  Starting with the club.

  She would sell it one day, when poor Ivan had breathed his last and she had settled him in a nice Jewish cemetery somewhere. She would unload it then and make another life for herself, a respectable life, maybe a nice wine bar or a restaurant.

  Somewhere she could relax and look at the clientele without a feeling of disgust and hopelessness. Where the waitresses were clean inside and out. Where money was earned legitimately and spent on honest enjoyment.

  It had taken Susan Dalston to make her see what an attractive prospect that was. Susan and her constant struggle to keep her head above water, her kids on the straight and narrow and her hips within acceptable limits.

  Laying her head on her desk Roselle cried as she had never cried before. God, she hoped her friend would understand why she had broken her confidence and told Geraldine the truth. She just prayed that in her desperation to help she had not betrayed the only real friendship she had known in her life.

  June and Joey sat in front of their big new TV and watched The Professionals. June was drinking more heavily than usual. As Joey saw her pour another large Scotch into a cut glass tumbler he commented, ‘You’re putting it away, ain’t you?’

  She looked at him, eyes bright with the alcohol.

  ‘I need it. I had another letter from our Susan today.’

  Joey rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘Here we go again. What’s she done now?’

  June shrugged.

  ‘She ain’t done nothing. Susan never did nothing, did she? Not like us. Not like we did.’

  He closed his eyes in annoyance.

  ‘You ain’t starting that again, are you? She killed Barry and whatever he was he never deserved that.’

  June shook her head.

  ‘But he did deserve it, Joey, and she should have done it years ago. He treated her like shit. Why are we still pretending something we know is a lie? We made money off her and we made money off them kids and we’ve never given them a penny. Not so much as a single fucking sweet.’

  Joey turned up the TV and said in a bored voice, ‘Piss off, June. Piss off round Debbie’s. Another one her. Where did we get them two from? Pair of moaning fucking Minnies.’

  June drained her drink in one gulp.

  ‘Susan was right not to want them girls here with you. She was right about that too. Even you can’t deny that. I saw the way you looked at Wendy. So did Susan. You was after her for half her fucking life. Remember that time I caught you in the kitchen? I knew you was after her and I was jealous.’

  He stared at the screen.

  June shook her head drunkenly.

  ‘All those years I hated her over you. Yet what were you really? A ponce, Joey. A ponce and nothing more.

  ‘Debbie’s been to see the kids and she’s over the moon with them. Told me to fuck off and she was right and all. When you get to our age all that’s left is your kids and your grandkids.

  ‘I hear the women on the estate talking. “Taking me daughter’s little ones out to the zoo or the museum.” They give their grandchildren a lot more time than they gave their kids. Stands to reason, don’t it? They’re the future, the next generation. And what have me and you got, eh? A big fucking telly and a nice drum bought with Susan’s blood money.’

  Joey stared at the screen; it was as if he was deaf, as if her words didn’t reach him.

  ‘Every day this week our Debbie’s been to that home. Every bastard day. It’s like they’ve given her a new lease of life. I might go meself. She reckons Rosie’s a right case and Barry Junior is a diamond. Alana and Wendy are beauties and all. Wendy tried to kill herself, Joey. A little girl like that tried to top herself.’

  ‘I thought she told you to fuck off. How do you know all this?’

  June laughed then.

  ‘Of course she told me to fuck off but she don’t mean it, does she? It’s just a row. They’re normal in families. I went back round there like nothing had happened and she was all right. She’s shown Jamesie the door.’

  Joey turned in his chair and bellowed, ‘I ain’t interested, June. You want to go all maternal, that’s up to you, girl. I do not want to know.’

  She refilled her glass and gulped at the burning liquid.

  ‘’Course you don’t. That’s the trouble, you never did.’

  He looked at her and sneered.

  ‘Well, mate, you’ve left it all a bit late, don’t you think? To be coming over mumsy and nice.’

  June stared into her glass.

  ‘Far too late, Joey. That’s what’s wrong.’

  He looked at his wife then, really looked at her, and sighed. She looked old. Underneath the make up and the hairdo she was old. They both were.

  ‘You’ve still got me, June.’

  She looked into his face, saw the lines of hatred around his piggy eyes, the viciousness of his mouth, and sighed heavily.

  ‘That’s right, Joey. Cheer me up, why don’t you?’

  He went back to The Professionals and hoped his Junie was going to get back to her normal awkward self, and soon.

  This one was getting on his tits.

  Susan smiled a welcome at Colin. She glanced at the woman with him and nodded politely. Geraldine was not ready for Susan’s appearance. She looked a different woman from the photographs of her on file. Gone was that lardlike heaviness. Though the woman before her would never be thin she looked fit and healthy and actually had a waist. Her hair was up in a French pleat and she wore discreet make up which took years off her.

  Geraldine held out one well-manicured hand and smiled.

  ‘Geraldine O’Hara. Pleased to meet you.’

  Susan smiled widely.

  ‘So Matty talked to you in the end?’

  She was inordinately pleased. Her friend had been on the block for over a week. No one knew what was happening with her or how she was.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Susan asked anxiously.

  Geraldine shrugged.

  ‘She won’t see anyone, I’m afraid, not even me.’

  Susan frowned. She stared at Colin and the PO who shrugged as if to say, What are you looking at me for?

  ‘I see. So how did you get in here then?’

  Susan had a bad feeling on her, a feeling she was being brought into something big. This was not a small-time lawyer like Colin, this was a big name, someone people listened to.

  ‘Roselle came to see me . . .’

  Susan felt as if the room was filling with damp air. She held up her hands.

  ‘I ain’t got the money for you, lady, so let’s stop this right now, shall we?’

  ‘Susan, we know what happened. We know everything.’

  Her face went white.

  Geraldine’s voice was low.

  ‘We just want to help you, that’s all.’

  ‘I don’t need your help, love. Thanks all the same. I’m OK with Colin.’

  He shook his scruffy head in distress.

  ‘Will you at least hear us out?’

  Susan shook her head vehemently.

  ‘There’s nothing to say. Now go, please, and leave me alone.’

  ‘We know what Barry did to Wendy. We know everything , Susan.’


  ‘You know nothing, lady. And anything you do know I’ll deny. Can’t you see what Wendy is doing? What Roselle is doing? They’re saying anything to get me out. Even if none of it is true.’

  ‘None of what is true, Susan?’

  ‘Whatever the fuck they said.’ She was panicking.

  ‘I could probably get a closed courtroom. No one else need know anything,’ Geraldine said quickly.

  ‘Piss off, the pair of you.’

  Susan looked over at the PO.

  ‘Get me back on me wing, I’m finished here.’

  ‘Maybe you should listen to them, Dalston.’

  ‘Yeah? And maybe you should shut your fucking trap and do your job!’

  ‘They’re going to offer Rosie for adoption and split the other kids up in different homes. Do you really want that, Susan? Haven’t they had enough to cope with? Wendy tried to commit suicide over what’s happened. She needs professional help, woman. I thought you wanted what was best for them. How can you not want this?’

  Geraldine’s voice was loud in the little room. It seemed to bounce off the walls and back at her. Susan hesitated for a split second and Geraldine seized her chance.

  ‘I could get you home in no time. Back to them. I’m a force to be reckoned with in my profession and I’m willing to help you for nix. Nothing. Not a penny. Don’t throw this back in my face, lady, because I won’t offer twice.’

  Her voice was so strong, so sure, that Susan realised she’d be giving up her only chance of freedom if she refused.

  Geraldine looked at the PO and said meaningfully, ‘I want to see my client alone, please?’

  The PO walked from the room without a backward glance.

  ‘If you don’t want it to come out we’ll find another way round it, I promise you.’

  Susan looked at the immaculately dressed woman before her.

  ‘Why do you want to do this so much? Why do I matter to you?’

  ‘Susan, if only you’d realise it you matter to a lot of people, not least your own kids. We know what Barry did to your daughter. His daughter. We know you had to eliminate him for what he’d done. We’re on your side, if you could only see it.’

  She looked to Colin for confirmation and he smiled.