“I was going to show you but I got a little distracted on account that I was being arrested and all. You really shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve always known I didn’t earn legally.”
I roll my eyes at his cockiness and genuinely smile for the first time in days.
“I really shouldn’t be in love with someone like you,” I smile.
“Yeah, but you are,” he grins back.
A deep growl catches my attention. When I look around, the man who the red headed young woman came to visit looks like he is going blow his shit at the kid. The little boy is still adamant he wants to get down off his mother’s lap and nothing she is doing is helping.
“Shut him up will you,” he snaps angrily at the woman.
“What am I supposed to do, I’ve tried everything,” she snaps back at him.
“Why did you even bring him for?” he argues.
“I’m sorry for thinking that he should see his dad.”
I am fascinated by their argument and sorry for the poor child in her arms all at once.
“That still isn’t a known fact,” he growls, how can you not know if a child is yours or not, surely they have taken a test to find out?
“Get him out of here if you can’t keep him quiet, and don’t bring him back until he can keep his fucking mouth shut. In fact, don’t bother coming here again. I don’t need this shit.”
I gasp at his disrespect in front of the child. The man’s eyes instantly find mine and he glares at me then Drake. He pushes himself away from their table and leaves the red head sitting there in tears.
“Look at me, Cam,” Drake orders.
“Did you hear how he spoke to her, you can’t blame the kid for crying in a place like this.”
“That’s their business, babe. It has nothing to do with us. He’s a jumped up little prick and only feels like a man treating her like that because she lets him.”
The red head finally puts the toddler on the floor and holds his hand to lead him out of the room.
“How are you holding up in here? Is it really bad? It has to be worse in there than it is out here.”
I don’t expect him to laugh, so when he does he makes me feel stupid.
“Babe, it’s fucking terrible but if you’re thinking all sorts about me dropping the soap in the shower, then don’t. I am more than capable of holding my own, plus, I know most of the guys in here and more importantly they know who I am, I don’t worry about anything,” he chuckles.
“I’m more worried about you on your own, are you really okay?”
“I will be, it’s a lot to take in. I just have to find my place without you for a while.”
Which I am hoping won’t be as dire in reality as what is playing out in my head.
“I’ll call as much as I can and we can write. I’m not sure how fast my case will move when I change my plea but once they move me to a different prison we can sort out visiting orders for you to see me. Everything will work out.”
“Time’s up,” a guard yells.
“Already?” I frown.
“Don’t fret, I’ll see you again soon. Keep in touch with Marg and Stan, don’t push them away, okay?” he says.
I nod and push my chair back to stand. Drake mimics me and pulls me in for a quick hug.
“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers.
“I love you too,”
“Look after yourself, be careful and be strong.”
“I will.”
Pulling away from him and walking away while he has to stay seated till all the visitors are gone cuts into me and the pain stings every inch of my body.
Leaving the prison is a blur, the walk to the bus stop and each bus ride back to Drake’s place is a blur, unlocking the front door and locking it securely once I am through the door is a blur.
When he pleads guilty he’ll go to prison for sure. No longer will I have hope that he will walk away anytime soon. I drop onto the sofa still in my coat and boots and laugh. I laugh from the bottom of my belly and I laugh till the tears I fought away all afternoon burst free in heavy waves. I told him I would be strong, that I will be fine. Right now all I can think of is how he is going to be locked up for God knows how long and being on my own around here without him, I don’t know what I am going to do apart from stay and wait for him, that much I do know.
I lay in bed waiting for the heating to come on the next morning. I don’t feel like getting up but I don’t feel like laying around doing nothing either. Doing nothing involves thinking about Drake. I pull the covers over my head to enjoy one more minute in the warm before I get up and decide what to do next when they are ripped off me and thrown to the floor.
I let out a scream but quickly shut up when I see Marg looming over the bed.
“How did you get in here?” I ask.
“I have a key for emergencies.” She shrugs.
“I don’t see any emergencies.”
“Drake has told me what he’s planning to do. Will you still be here on his release, whenever that may be?”
“I’m getting a little sick of you assuming the worst of me, Marg.”
“Just answer the question,” she snaps.
“Yes. I’ll be here.”
For a brief second I believe I see her smile.
“Then you’re going to need something to do to pass the time. The useless lump who works with me has been fired and I think the job will be perfect for you. The pay isn’t worth shit but it’s not like you need to worry about money, is it?”
I shake my head but I smile graciously. I have wanted a job since I arrived in London and it will be perfect to keep me occupied while Drake isn’t around. He doesn’t like the idea of me working but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“When do I start?”
“Right now, jump in the shower and be ready to go in twenty minutes,” she tells me then leaves the room.
I pull fresh underwear from the drawer and my cleanest jeans and a jumper and take the quickest shower of my life.
“What’s your story, Cammie?” Marg asks while we walk the short distance from Drake’s flat to the café.
“I don’t have a story?” I say.
“Everyone has a story,” she retorts, “What about your family?”
“Drake is my family.”
I feel a pang of guilt when I think of Lorna. Every time I’ve tried calling her she hasn’t answered.
“Will he still be your family if he gets sent down for a ten stretch?”
My resolve doesn’t waver for my loyalty to him, it resolves because ten years is a fucking long time. He will do half though, I remind myself as long as he keeps out of trouble.
“Not that I have to prove a thing to you, but I will show you Marg. I love Drake and I’m not going anywhere, I will still be here when he gets out. Whenever that is.”
She doesn’t say anything, she pushes open the café door and holds it open till I walk in past her.
The guy who owns the place must have been expecting me because he doesn’t bat an eyelid when Marg hands me an apron.
I listen to every instruction she gives me to how things work round here and find that I pick it up quite quickly. The morning rush soon fades into a steady stream of customers ordering light lunches and drinks.
The regulars look at me like I’m an exhibit at the zoo and while they don’t talk to me much they do leave me healthy tips.
Hours pass and I don’t care what time I am supposed to finish. I’d work till closing if Marg hadn’t have pushed me out the door at five o’clock instructing me to be back tomorrow morning at nine sharp.
Walking home I can’t help feeling a small victory. I have always worked from the age of sixteen and I forgot how exhilarating it can be to do something so mundane that takes your mind off of everything. Tomorrow morning can’t come around quick enough. The only thing I am not looking forward to is taking my boots off, my feet ache to death standing around for most of the day. I can’t even have a soak in the bath
on account that Drake only has a shower cubical in his bathroom.
I can hear the phone ringing from outside and I rush down the small hallway to the front door. I end up fumbling around in my bag for the front door key when I think the call is going to cut off. I manage to unlock the door and reach the phone just in time.
“Hello,” I answer, breathlessly.
“So glad you’re home to finally answer my calls.”
Drake and he does not sound happy.
“I…Wait, you don’t normally call till six.”
The line goes quiet, too quiet.
“Drake?”
“I’m here, you have enough money not to fucking work, Cam,” he says, more calmly although I can hear the strain in his tone not to shout.
I take a deep breath. I should have known there would be nothing Drake didn’t find out even though he is locked up.
“I was going to tell you myself, so there’s no need to send spies to watch my every move,” I argue.
“It wasn’t like that,” he says, quietly.
But it is like that, I know it is.
“I’m not doing it for the money, it gives me something to do. Unless you expect me to stay in this flat all day every day till you get out. I can’t do that without sending myself crazy.”
“I’m starting to think you’re already crazy, who works when they don’t have to?”
“I do,” I sigh, “Look Drake, today flew by because I was busy. If you’re not here with me I need something to make the days pass faster till you are.”
The line goes quiet again but I can hear him breathing so I wait for him to talk.
“Okay, we’ll talk about this when you next come to see me. I actually wanted to tell you that I told my solicitor I’m going to plead guilty and he is making the arrangements to get it over and done with quickly.”
I suppose this is the best option we have at the moment.
“When will you hear anything?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt it will take long.”
“Okay.”
I genuinely don’t know what else to say about it.
“It’s good to hear your voice babe,” he murmurs down the line and I picture his smile as he is saying it.
“You too,” I tell him.
“I’ve got to go but I have a question for you,” he says.
“What?”
“What colour panties have you got on?” he chuckles.
I feel myself blush in the darkness and a burning sensation prickles me down between my legs.
“Drake,” I giggle, “If you must know, I’m wearing a black, lacy thong.”
His groan down the phone is animalistic and arousing. I sigh heavily and remind myself it is now down to me to dowse the fire when he turns me on.
“That’s an image I’ll be thinking about tonight.”
“Seriously, don’t they listen in to these calls?” I ask him.
“So what?” he laughs, “Okay, I really do need to go now. I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow at six.”
“Okay, I love you too.”
The phone goes dead and I place the phone back on the table. However, this is going to work it starts with me carrying on as normal. I won’t sink into despair every time he calls.
I choose a frozen lasagne from the freezer and shove it in the microwave and begin to settle in for the night. Plan for tomorrow now that I have one is breakfast, work at the café and then back home to talk with Drake, then bed to start it all over again the day after.
Chapter Nine – March 2003
Sometimes three months have felt like three years and sometimes it has felt like three weeks. Drake’s sentencing is today and I have not been able to concentrate on anything else than that. Orders have been messed up, I have daydreamed my way through cleaning the tables down and I have spent more time wiping the same spot than necessary. Les, the owner keeps complaining I am going to clean a hole in the table if I carry on. He has refrained from yelling at me like he does with the other waitresses I have seen work here during the evening shift. Marg has been the same and he doesn’t give her any grief either, albeit, she is more than likely to rip his head off verbally if he tried.
A few of the regulars have expressed their wishes for Drake to be home soon and it is a travesty that he is locked up at all. I smile politely and move on. I love my job here and when Les saw that I was a hard worker and willing to take any shift I can, he has been very kind to make sure I work six days a week to give me as less time at home on my own as possible.
The one day I have to myself, Sunday, I spend visiting Drake’s mother’s grave in the morning with Marg and then I spend the rest of the day cleaning the tiny flat and finishing my weekly letter to Drake telling him every detail I can remember of my week.
The two forty-five minute visits I have each week him only bring me sadness. Sitting so close to him yet I feel so far, and talking to each other is always strained because of everything going on around us. Drake is always calm about it and tells me I will get used to it. I’m not sure I will, I am desperate to have him home.
“Come on, Cam,” I hear from the back, “I know today is hard but if you can’t get this right you should just go home.”
Les is losing his patience and I don’t blame him. I just mixed up an all-day breakfast with sausage, mash and gravy.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, taking the right meal out to the customer.
“Don’t stress, lovey,” Marg smiles, “We haven’t got much longer to wait.”
We could have known by now if it wasn’t for Drake wanting to tell us himself. His solicitor could have passed on the information earlier.
I smile back weakly and try to focus on the job at hand, cleaning yet another table as another customer leaves.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a daze and by the time five o’clock rolls around I can only muster the energy to get me home.
Marg comes with me and we walk in silence. We enter the flat and I put the kettle on for Marg and pour myself a healthy measure of vodka, neat.
He said he would call at six o’clock like he does every night. Forty minutes to go. I sip my drink while we sit on opposite ends of the sofa and I relish the burn slipping down my throat and the fire in my stomach from the alcohol. Usually a triple vodka would have me foggy headed and legs tingling, today though, it hardly affects me.
I watch the clock tick from five fifty-nine to six o’clock and jump off the sofa to wait by the phone on the side table by the television.
My heart rate thumps double time and I wipe my hands on my jeans when they begin to sweat.
I only give the phone chance to ring once before I answer it.
“Hello?”
I pull the phone away and check the line. It is too quiet.
“Drake, is that you?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs.
“Oh God, it’s bad, isn’t it?” I cry.
Why else for the dramatic silent beginning?
“Babe, calm down,” he tells me, as if that is possible right now.
“Just tell me, Drake.”
“I got five years, with the three months I’ve done on remand and good behaviour I could be home in two and a half years.”
“Well…bloody behave,” I half laugh and half sob.
Two years is hell of a difference to the ten years I was expecting.
“They’re moving me to Pin Green Prison tomorrow, as soon as I can I’ll send you a visiting order. This is better than it could’ve been, my solicitor told me to expect eight to ten years,” he explains.
“I suppose,” I agree, lightly.
“I can’t talk for long, can you put Marg on the phone?”
“Sure,” I sigh.
“I love you, Cammie. You can bet your arse I’ll be home soon.”
“I love you too, call me as soon as you can.”
“I will,” he promises.
I hand the phone over to Marg and refill my glass with vodka, again
.
I can hear Marg talking to him like everything is normal, like he is at work late and won’t be home for dinner.
Five or two years is better than ten but I don’t fight the tears that fall, the last three months away from him have been hard and now I know for sure it will be at least a couple of years before he walks through the door again.
I don’t realise Marg has finished her conversation with Drake until her arms around me and leads me back to the sofa.
“Hush, lovey,” she soothes, letting me cuddle into her for support.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask.
She isn’t out right rude to me anymore but she doesn’t normally go out of her way to make me feel like we are friends.
“I see it in your eyes and I trust that,” she murmurs, softly.
“See what,” I sniffle, pulling away from her so I can see her.
“Your loyalty, I trust you will wait for him and be good while you do. He isn’t your typical good guy, anyone looking in from the outside wouldn’t blame you for leaving and moving on but he will always be good to you. This will be harder for him than it will be for you and knowing you’re waiting for him will give him something to come out for. He will keep out of trouble and will do half his sentence, all because of you.”
“It’s taken you six months to see that?”
“If you haven’t noticed lovey, people don’t exactly trust easy around here. Just remember, you will see him every month and he will call every night, and then there are letters. The time won’t be as daunting as you think it will,” she urges.
“And I will be here for you too, if you’re finding it hard come to me and I will try to ease it for you until the next time you see him. You’re not completely alone.”
“Thank you,” I smile, wiping at my eyes, “What did he want to speak to you about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She stands and straightens her skirt and reaches for her coat.
“Oh, he wanted to make sure I’ll still visit his mum and to make sure I’ll look out for you. Which I will, happily.”
“I’d still like to visit her with you, if you don’t mind?”