did wonder what was going on in her head. There was something different about this one. The other slappers he usually hung around with were all the same. Desperate for attention, couldn’t keep their gobs shut or their knickers on. Emma was different.
She opened the box and took out the necklace.
‘Real silver, that,’ he said, nodding at the chain in her hand. She turned it over. ‘Silver plated, anyway.’
‘Thanks,’ Emma said and put it back in the box.
‘Put it on.’
Emma rubbed the heart-shaped pendant between her fingers and Lucas moved behind her. He started to take off the gold piece of tat from around her neck but she pulled away.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Nothing,’ Emma said, her fingers clutching her neck. ‘It’s just this was my mam’s.’
‘So? This one’s off me. Put it on.’
She stared at the worn pink carpet and said nothing. He could see her hands were balled up. She was in one of her moods. She didn’t want it. Ungrateful cow.
‘Put it on,’ he said again, walking up to her, holding the necklace in his open palm. Emma reached out to take it. ‘Take that one off first.’
‘I can wear both,’ she said.
‘I don’t want you to. Take that one off.’
She was silent again, staring at the floor. Lucas took hold of her chin, forced her to look at him. He waited for her to do as she was told. Kept waiting.
‘Well fuck off then,’ he said, throwing the chain against the window. Emma flinched and Lucas pushed her away.
‘I’m sorry.’ She tried to take his hand. ‘Don’t be in a mood with me. I love the necklace but this is my mam’s.’
Lucas ignored her and opened the bedroom door. ‘Just get a shift on.’
Emma started to collect things together from drawers and shelves. Lucas watched her and wondered if he’d been wrong. If she was just like the rest of them. She was doing his head in. How long did it take?
‘Just leave it,’ he said eventually and took the bag from her hand. ‘You don’t need any of this shit.’
‘But—’
‘Let’s just go, for fuck’s sake.’ He pulled her out of the room by her elbow. She could say goodbye to all the teddy bears and knick-knacks. That life was over.
Chapter 15
14 December 2010
Lucas finished his cigarette and stomped it out, glancing behind him, expecting to see Detective Freeman hanging around. When she’d approached him outside the bedsit his first thought hadn’t been ‘cop’. She looked more like one of the Goth kids he used to torture at school. Long black hair with a streak of blonde at the front, and head-to-toe black clothes with a pair of dykey boots too. But as soon as she opened her gob he could hear it. Had that way of talking down to him like all coppers do.
Lucas watched people dribble in and out of the clinic. He didn’t recognise any of the faces. He supposed the junkies he’d known were either dead or had no intention of quitting after all this time. He’d known a few people in the past who’d come here, who reckoned they were going to quit and make something of their lives. He knew better. None of them ever did it. Most were back on the smack or whatever was their pleasure within weeks, if not days, and the ones who did give up had either topped themselves or were living an existence as crappy as when they had been addicts – but minus the bubble of comfort the drugs gave them. It was pointless. People like that never changed.
He wondered if any of the scumbags would recognise him. The staff wouldn’t know him, he’d never set foot in the place. He started walking towards the door. A young girl was leaving and he held the door open for her. She didn’t even look at him.
‘You’re welcome,’ he muttered and walked through the reception area. The middle-aged woman behind the desk didn’t look up as he approached. They might teach sobriety but they didn’t teach manners.
‘Hang on,’ she said and scribbled something on a notepad. Lucas said nothing but continued
She opened the box and took out the necklace.
‘Real silver, that,’ he said, nodding at the chain in her hand. She turned it over. ‘Silver plated, anyway.’
‘Thanks,’ Emma said and put it back in the box.
‘Put it on.’
Emma rubbed the heart-shaped pendant between her fingers and Lucas moved behind her. He started to take off the gold piece of tat from around her neck but she pulled away.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Nothing,’ Emma said, her fingers clutching her neck. ‘It’s just this was my mam’s.’
‘So? This one’s off me. Put it on.’
She stared at the worn pink carpet and said nothing. He could see her hands were balled up. She was in one of her moods. She didn’t want it. Ungrateful cow.
‘Put it on,’ he said again, walking up to her, holding the necklace in his open palm. Emma reached out to take it. ‘Take that one off first.’
‘I can wear both,’ she said.
‘I don’t want you to. Take that one off.’
She was silent again, staring at the floor. Lucas took hold of her chin, forced her to look at him. He waited for her to do as she was told. Kept waiting.
‘Well fuck off then,’ he said, throwing the chain against the window. Emma flinched and Lucas pushed her away.
‘I’m sorry.’ She tried to take his hand. ‘Don’t be in a mood with me. I love the necklace but this is my mam’s.’
Lucas ignored her and opened the bedroom door. ‘Just get a shift on.’
Emma started to collect things together from drawers and shelves. Lucas watched her and wondered if he’d been wrong. If she was just like the rest of them. She was doing his head in. How long did it take?
‘Just leave it,’ he said eventually and took the bag from her hand. ‘You don’t need any of this shit.’
‘But—’
‘Let’s just go, for fuck’s sake.’ He pulled her out of the room by her elbow. She could say goodbye to all the teddy bears and knick-knacks. That life was over.
Chapter 15
14 December 2010
Lucas finished his cigarette and stomped it out, glancing behind him, expecting to see Detective Freeman hanging around. When she’d approached him outside the bedsit his first thought hadn’t been ‘cop’. She looked more like one of the Goth kids he used to torture at school. Long black hair with a streak of blonde at the front, and head-to-toe black clothes with a pair of dykey boots too. But as soon as she opened her gob he could hear it. Had that way of talking down to him like all coppers do.
Lucas watched people dribble in and out of the clinic. He didn’t recognise any of the faces. He supposed the junkies he’d known were either dead or had no intention of quitting after all this time. He’d known a few people in the past who’d come here, who reckoned they were going to quit and make something of their lives. He knew better. None of them ever did it. Most were back on the smack or whatever was their pleasure within weeks, if not days, and the ones who did give up had either topped themselves or were living an existence as crappy as when they had been addicts – but minus the bubble of comfort the drugs gave them. It was pointless. People like that never changed.
He wondered if any of the scumbags would recognise him. The staff wouldn’t know him, he’d never set foot in the place. He started walking towards the door. A young girl was leaving and he held the door open for her. She didn’t even look at him.
‘You’re welcome,’ he muttered and walked through the reception area. The middle-aged woman behind the desk didn’t look up as he approached. They might teach sobriety but they didn’t teach manners.
‘Hang on,’ she said and scribbled something on a notepad. Lucas said nothing but continued
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