Faceless by Martina Cole

me to do?’
    ‘Have a word.’
    He smiled grimly.
    ‘I can’t have a word, as you put it. We fucked her off out of it. We don’t even know where she is.’
    Cissy shrugged.
    ‘Fair enough. I’ll keep it to meself, but others must have recognised her too.’
    ‘Well, if they did that’s their problem, ain’t it?’
    Cissy looked into his eyes and felt sad for the man before her. She could see the misery inside him. Knew that Marie had been his favourite. She had been a good kid, old Marie. But the drugs had taken their toll, as drugs and drink are wont to do. Whether alcohol or smack, eventually it destroys whoever is involved with it.
    ‘It’s no good getting the fuck with me, Kevin. I’m only trying to avert a disaster. I knew it was pointless talking to Lou about it, so I
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    thought I would mention it to you.’
    He gripped her arm gently.
    ‘I’m sorry, Cissy. But since she’s been released it’s brought it all back, you know?’
    She nodded.
    ‘I know, mate. I know. But if she wants lynching, she’s come to the right place. Too many long memories here. You know that as well as I do.’
    He watched her walk away. She wasn’t a bad old stick really. Lou hated her even though she spoke to her. But if Marie was back in the area his wife was going to go berserk. Maybe he should visit his daughter. Put her wise, like. Without Louise knowing, of course.
    It was a good idea. It would give him a bonafide reason to see Marie, and if Lou found out he could always say he went to see Marie for her. To stop Lou getting grief. To stop Marie going to the market and stirring up trouble.
    He knew he was a coward, but with Lou being like she was it was the only way he could see his child.
    And he wanted to see her desperately.
    Marie listened with half an ear to the woman at the Job Centre. She had heard it all before, she knew better than anyone that the chances of her getting a real job were nil, but she went through with the charade anyway.
    It had taken her four years to go from A-category, lockup, to D-category, open prison, and then another year before she had been able to hit the pavement. Her life had been decided by a panel of police and probation officers and social workers. People she knew would be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life. If she changed jobs, they had to know. If she moved, they had to be told. If she shat more than twice in one day … She could not even get into an argument like normal people. If she caused any kind of disturbance she was back inside and forced to finish her sentence. Even an unpaid parking ticket could get her locked up for years.
    She forced the thoughts from her mind but it was wearing, this constant vigilance. Keeping your natural reactions under close check. She daren’t even argue with anyone because then she could be straight back inside, and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
    Now she was out she could see that her real climb back to normal living was going to be harder than anything she had ever accomplished before. But she listened politely because it made life easier.
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    That was the first thing she had learned twelve years ago. Listen, and listen, and listen. Whether it was to a screw, the Governor, or another prisoner. Keep a still tongue and smile or frown as required. It made life much easier in the long run.
    She was brought back to the present by the bombshell dropped by the woman sitting opposite her.
    ‘Mr Jarvis is willing to give you a go. He knows your history, remembers reading about it, and he knows also that he is getting you and your skills cheap. But beggars can’t be choosers, eh?’
    Marie forced herself to smile politely, but the urge to tell this woman what to do with her job and her condescending attitude was almost overwhelming.
    The woman handed her a piece of paper with an address in East London.
    ‘He wants someone to do the wages and generally run his office for him. I think you will be more than up to it but