he won’t pay you very well. Five pounds an hour max.’
Five minutes later Marie was walking along a busy road and pondering what the woman had said.
It was a job and she needed one. Needed something to fill in the time which was lying heavy on her hands. It was in an office, which she wanted. Factory work was too personal. People in factories knew each other’s lives intimately, and camaraderie and back biting didn’t really appeal to her. No, a small office would do for her, and Mr Jarvis had a small office by all accounts.
As Marie jumped on a bus she felt lighter than she had for a long while, for all she knew she could earn more in a few hours back in her old life than she would in a week with Mr Jarvis.
But that was in the past, when money had been the be-all and end-all of her existence. Money for skag, brown, shit, whatever epithet you wanted to put on heroin. She was assailed once more with fractured memories of strange men, strange cars, and the sickly smell of unwashed male bodies. She went quiet inside as she had taught herself to do when such memories flooded her being.
That was the past. What she needed to get herself was a future.
Tiffany was dressed and ready to go when the doorbell rang. It was Carole Halter and her sidekick Mary Bragg. She let them in and made them a quick coffee.
‘Where’s Anastasia?’
The mate’s got her till the morning. I’m off on a job interview.’
42
The two women looked at her in the skimpy school uniform and smiled.
‘You look about twelve in that!’
Tiffany grinned.
‘I ain’t got me make-up on yet, and I will have to blow soon. What do you want?’
Carole blew out her lips, making a raspberry sound.
‘Could you borrow me a ton? Just till the weekend, like.’
‘Look, Carole, if I had it I’d give it to you, but I really ain’t got
it.’
Carole looked deflated, all her good humour leaving her in an instant. She shook her head sorrowfully.
‘All I done for you …’
Tiffany had heard it before, but she didn’t interrupt the woman.
‘I didn’t tell your mum where you were. I lied for you. Lied through me teeth to me oldest mate for you. Told her no one knew where you were. I lied to a murderer for you, and you can’t see your way clear to lending me a few quid.’
The whine in the older woman’s voice was annoying and unnecessary.
‘I ain’t got it …’
Carole stood up as if to leave;
‘Well, if you ain’t got it…’
‘I can let you have thirty quid, but that’s all I’ve got. I’ll leave meself short.’
As she said it Tiffany cursed herself. She would have to get the fucking bus in a school uniform now. Or try and borrow some dosh herself.
But Carole was her only link with the past and she needed that sometimes. Though why, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was true, the old saying that blood was thicker than water. She still wanted to feel that her mother was close by even if she didn’t actually want to see her in the flesh, and over the years Marie’s old pal Carole had provided that contact with the past Tiffany seemed to crave. As she handed over the money she knew she wouldn’t see Carole for a few weeks. She never did when she was owed money. Carole was scum with a capital S. But she had been there for Tiffany when she was younger and she owed her for that much at least.
When they had gone she went into Anastasia’s room and opened the little girl’s piggy bank. As she emptied it she felt shame wash over her like a blanket of sweaty heat.
43
But she would replace it, she would, and if she got this job it would be back before the weekend. At least that’s what she told herself.
Alan Jarvis surveyed the woman in front of him with a smile.
‘Coffee … tea?’
Marie was so nervous she could hear her heartbeat.
‘No, thank you.’
She sat down when he offered her a chair; noticed that he watched as she crossed her legs.
He was a good-looking man in his early fifties, tall and well-built if
Five minutes later Marie was walking along a busy road and pondering what the woman had said.
It was a job and she needed one. Needed something to fill in the time which was lying heavy on her hands. It was in an office, which she wanted. Factory work was too personal. People in factories knew each other’s lives intimately, and camaraderie and back biting didn’t really appeal to her. No, a small office would do for her, and Mr Jarvis had a small office by all accounts.
As Marie jumped on a bus she felt lighter than she had for a long while, for all she knew she could earn more in a few hours back in her old life than she would in a week with Mr Jarvis.
But that was in the past, when money had been the be-all and end-all of her existence. Money for skag, brown, shit, whatever epithet you wanted to put on heroin. She was assailed once more with fractured memories of strange men, strange cars, and the sickly smell of unwashed male bodies. She went quiet inside as she had taught herself to do when such memories flooded her being.
That was the past. What she needed to get herself was a future.
Tiffany was dressed and ready to go when the doorbell rang. It was Carole Halter and her sidekick Mary Bragg. She let them in and made them a quick coffee.
‘Where’s Anastasia?’
The mate’s got her till the morning. I’m off on a job interview.’
42
The two women looked at her in the skimpy school uniform and smiled.
‘You look about twelve in that!’
Tiffany grinned.
‘I ain’t got me make-up on yet, and I will have to blow soon. What do you want?’
Carole blew out her lips, making a raspberry sound.
‘Could you borrow me a ton? Just till the weekend, like.’
‘Look, Carole, if I had it I’d give it to you, but I really ain’t got
it.’
Carole looked deflated, all her good humour leaving her in an instant. She shook her head sorrowfully.
‘All I done for you …’
Tiffany had heard it before, but she didn’t interrupt the woman.
‘I didn’t tell your mum where you were. I lied for you. Lied through me teeth to me oldest mate for you. Told her no one knew where you were. I lied to a murderer for you, and you can’t see your way clear to lending me a few quid.’
The whine in the older woman’s voice was annoying and unnecessary.
‘I ain’t got it …’
Carole stood up as if to leave;
‘Well, if you ain’t got it…’
‘I can let you have thirty quid, but that’s all I’ve got. I’ll leave meself short.’
As she said it Tiffany cursed herself. She would have to get the fucking bus in a school uniform now. Or try and borrow some dosh herself.
But Carole was her only link with the past and she needed that sometimes. Though why, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was true, the old saying that blood was thicker than water. She still wanted to feel that her mother was close by even if she didn’t actually want to see her in the flesh, and over the years Marie’s old pal Carole had provided that contact with the past Tiffany seemed to crave. As she handed over the money she knew she wouldn’t see Carole for a few weeks. She never did when she was owed money. Carole was scum with a capital S. But she had been there for Tiffany when she was younger and she owed her for that much at least.
When they had gone she went into Anastasia’s room and opened the little girl’s piggy bank. As she emptied it she felt shame wash over her like a blanket of sweaty heat.
43
But she would replace it, she would, and if she got this job it would be back before the weekend. At least that’s what she told herself.
Alan Jarvis surveyed the woman in front of him with a smile.
‘Coffee … tea?’
Marie was so nervous she could hear her heartbeat.
‘No, thank you.’
She sat down when he offered her a chair; noticed that he watched as she crossed her legs.
He was a good-looking man in his early fifties, tall and well-built if
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