slippery little fucker but I’ll have him! One of these days I will have him bang to fucking rights. Black bastard he is.’
Baxter rubbed at his tired eyes.
‘I hope the Carty kid dies. Hopefully we’ll kill two birds with one stone then.’
The DC grinned once more, his young face hopeful at last.
‘Be a touch, no doubt about that.’
Joanie tucked Kira in for the tenth time; she had never been so frightened in her life. Jeanette was still subdued after the massive clump she had distributed earlier. If Social Services got her younger daughter she would never see her again, Joanie was aware of that. Unlike the older two, Kira had never been in care, ever. In Joanie’s younger days the courts had imprisoned prostitutes at the drop of a hat, and consequently her elder kids had paid a high price for their mother’s way of earning a living. With so many counts against her already, they wouldn’t hesitate to take Kira into care.
Well, it was never going to happen to her baby. This was one child she would do right by if it killed her.
Going into the front room again, she saw her elder daughter sitting forlornly smoking a cigarette and felt a moment’s sorrow for her.
Jeanette, God love her, was her own worst enemy. Her attitude was always going to be her downfall. Even as a kid she had been a right stroppy little mare. Fight her own fingernails if the fancy took her. But if nothing else good had come of tonight, Joanie knew it had frightened her elder girl and so in that respect it wasn’t a complete disaster.
Jon Jon was quite capable of taking care of himself; she didn’t need to worry about him or Jeanette like she worried about Kira. Where they were naturally streetwise, her youngest wasn’t. She was not backward exactly, but she had what were called learning difficulties. She went to a mainstream school but barely kept up with the other kids. Her naturally sunny personality made up for a lot, Joanie knew that, but Kira could not be left alone. She had no street sense whatsoever and that was what worried her mother so much.
‘How could you leave her like that, Jen?’
Jeanette’s face screwed up into a tight ball as she whined, ‘Oh, Mum, be fair. I hate looking after her all the time. I’m fourteen, I want to be out with me mates.’
‘You mean, shagging. I hear everything, remember that.’
Jeanette looked so young, underneath the thick makeup, that her mother’s heart went out to her. She had had a fright and it showed.
Joanie stared at her daughter’s profile; she could be really pretty if she didn’t look so much like a candidate for The Trisha Show .
She tried to hug the girl, but was shrugged off.
‘Leave it out, Mum. Save it for your baby.’
They sat in silence for a moment before Jeanette said, ‘Wanna drink?’
‘Yeah, go on then, love.’
It was the nearest Jeanette would come to an outright apology. Joanie knew that and accepted it. One daughter knew too much, and the other daughter would never know enough. God played jokes, she was convinced of that. She only wished she could laugh at her own life.
Kira called out in her sleep then and she was catapulted from her seat, but Jeanette had got there first and was settling her down gently.
Joanie watched from the doorway and felt her heart lighten.
She realised she was close to tears as she watched the little tableau before her. She had really had enough of this life. It was hard to keep up a happy front when inside you were slowly dying.
Little Tommy was happy, or as near to happy as he had ever been. It was wonderful to wake up in the morning with an agenda. He had an actual appointment, not with the doctor or some other specialist but with another person. He hugged the knowledge to himself.
‘What are you grinning about?’
His father broke into his reverie and he shrugged.
‘Nothing, just enjoying the
Baxter rubbed at his tired eyes.
‘I hope the Carty kid dies. Hopefully we’ll kill two birds with one stone then.’
The DC grinned once more, his young face hopeful at last.
‘Be a touch, no doubt about that.’
Joanie tucked Kira in for the tenth time; she had never been so frightened in her life. Jeanette was still subdued after the massive clump she had distributed earlier. If Social Services got her younger daughter she would never see her again, Joanie was aware of that. Unlike the older two, Kira had never been in care, ever. In Joanie’s younger days the courts had imprisoned prostitutes at the drop of a hat, and consequently her elder kids had paid a high price for their mother’s way of earning a living. With so many counts against her already, they wouldn’t hesitate to take Kira into care.
Well, it was never going to happen to her baby. This was one child she would do right by if it killed her.
Going into the front room again, she saw her elder daughter sitting forlornly smoking a cigarette and felt a moment’s sorrow for her.
Jeanette, God love her, was her own worst enemy. Her attitude was always going to be her downfall. Even as a kid she had been a right stroppy little mare. Fight her own fingernails if the fancy took her. But if nothing else good had come of tonight, Joanie knew it had frightened her elder girl and so in that respect it wasn’t a complete disaster.
Jon Jon was quite capable of taking care of himself; she didn’t need to worry about him or Jeanette like she worried about Kira. Where they were naturally streetwise, her youngest wasn’t. She was not backward exactly, but she had what were called learning difficulties. She went to a mainstream school but barely kept up with the other kids. Her naturally sunny personality made up for a lot, Joanie knew that, but Kira could not be left alone. She had no street sense whatsoever and that was what worried her mother so much.
‘How could you leave her like that, Jen?’
Jeanette’s face screwed up into a tight ball as she whined, ‘Oh, Mum, be fair. I hate looking after her all the time. I’m fourteen, I want to be out with me mates.’
‘You mean, shagging. I hear everything, remember that.’
Jeanette looked so young, underneath the thick makeup, that her mother’s heart went out to her. She had had a fright and it showed.
Joanie stared at her daughter’s profile; she could be really pretty if she didn’t look so much like a candidate for The Trisha Show .
She tried to hug the girl, but was shrugged off.
‘Leave it out, Mum. Save it for your baby.’
They sat in silence for a moment before Jeanette said, ‘Wanna drink?’
‘Yeah, go on then, love.’
It was the nearest Jeanette would come to an outright apology. Joanie knew that and accepted it. One daughter knew too much, and the other daughter would never know enough. God played jokes, she was convinced of that. She only wished she could laugh at her own life.
Kira called out in her sleep then and she was catapulted from her seat, but Jeanette had got there first and was settling her down gently.
Joanie watched from the doorway and felt her heart lighten.
She realised she was close to tears as she watched the little tableau before her. She had really had enough of this life. It was hard to keep up a happy front when inside you were slowly dying.
Little Tommy was happy, or as near to happy as he had ever been. It was wonderful to wake up in the morning with an agenda. He had an actual appointment, not with the doctor or some other specialist but with another person. He hugged the knowledge to himself.
‘What are you grinning about?’
His father broke into his reverie and he shrugged.
‘Nothing, just enjoying the
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