Bang Up: Prison walls don't just keep criminals in, the keep the outside world at bay (10 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Rachel had tossed and turned in her bed all night long, she was restless, agitated. Police sirens could be heard outside, youths arguing and shouting at each other. She booted the blankets from her body and punched her clenched fist into her pillow trying to get comfortable. Something was lying heavily on her mind. Mikey’s mother had been in bed smoking like a trooper for the last few hours. Nothing was making sense anymore, her head was mashed. Even the sleeping tablets she’d popped weren’t taking effect. Her mind was in overdrive. The word was out now that her son was in prison and she knew sooner or later Davo and his boys would put two and two together and be booming her front door in. Mikey was a right nobhead fucking with these kind of people, he should have stuck to what he knew. But he just couldn’t help himself, there was too much money there for him to walk away from. He’d watched Davo and his boys stash the cash after a big job and knew the moment they turned their backs he would have it away. Why should them lot have all the fun? He wanted a taste of the good life too. But, the idiot hadn’t covered his tracks properly, he hadn’t made sure there would be no comebacks. What a nerd he was! Martina Scott had seen him and she had the biggest mouth in the world. A right grassing bitch, she was - a proper gossip. It would only be a matter of time before she spilled the beans and put his name in the frame. She couldn’t hold her own piss, she was a Judas.

Davo, real name Danny Davidson, was the main man in the area. An up and coming head the ball, everyone said. He was into everything and armed robberies were his forte. He was fucked in the head for sure and nobody messed with him unless they wanted trouble. Danny was older than Mikey and he never gave him the time of day. He wasn’t in his league. Mikey was just a small time criminal in his eyes and nothing to worry about but he’d underestimated him. You see, Mikey was a sneak thief; crafty, cunning and he could smell a good thing a mile off. He wasn’t scared of the main man and if push came to shove he would stand his ground. Davo would have leathered him if the truth was known but in Mikey’s head he thought he was ten men and didn’t realise his opponent would wipe him from the face of the earth if he needed to. Anyway, there was no point in crying over spilt milk. The deed was done and there was no going back. Mikey was that full of himself that he really thought that Davo and his boys had forgotten about the money. He never had an inclination that he was already a marked man. Of course, when the money first went missing he was questioned about it by the gang but so was every grafter in the area. They had fuck all on him and he knew it. As long as Martina kept it on the low they would never find out. There was no honour among thieves and each of them would lie to their back teeth if they needed to. All was fair in love and war and there was fuck all Davo could do about it. The money was gone and he hoped they would just take it on the chin.

Rachel glanced out of the bedroom window and folded her pillow under her head. Gary was snoring at the side of her, he was dead to the world. She hated his snoring and they’d had many an argument over it in the past. He made deep grunting noises and occasionally choking sounds. It did her head in every night. Usually, when she’d had enough of it, she’d just go and sleep on the sofa or kick him out of bed. Gary was bugging her lately, even when he was eating she wanted to smash his face in. He ate like an animal and commented on every mouthful of food he scranned. “Oh, this is mint Rach, lovely grub,” she hated it. Rachel twisted her head slowly and waved her hand in front of Gary’s face, double-checking he was still asleep. He was dead to the world. Slowly, she slid her thin body out of bed. She tiptoed out of the bedroom over creaking floorboards. The house seemed eerie, every noise seemed a lot louder than usual. Rubbing at her arms she made her way down the stairs. This house was freezing cold and no matter how high she turned the thermostat up, she could never get warm, she was a right frozen arse. Gary had always said she was anaemic or something because even when it was red hot in the summer she always complained she was cold. Flicking the main light on in the front room, her eyes shot about making sure everything was still in place. Burglaries were on the rise in the area and she’d been a victim of it before. The bastards took everything she had at the time, left her with fuck all. Television, stereos and anything that could be sold on the streets - jealous fuckers they were, scum of the earth. Rachel was a grafter herself but never in her life had she stolen from one of her own. She classed herself as working class and never pissed on her own doorstep. She robbed from the high street stores that would never miss the dint she put in their profits. Security was high on Rachel’s list of priorities now and there were big steel bolts on the doors. Once bitten, twice shy. Rachel dragged the sofa across the room slowly. It was heavy and her expression changed, her neck stretched and her eyes widened as she used all her strength to move the piece of furniture. Stepping to the corner of the living room she paused and listened carefully. It was nothing, just the heating system, she was safe to continue. She tugged at the edge of the carpet, gripping it tightly. There was too much noise, she had to be quiet. Lifting the floorboards up, she bent down and tunnelled her hand down deep under the floor. She was concentrating as her hands moved about slowly. Eyes wide open.

Here it was; the hideout - the stash. Ever since the money had been hidden here she’d counted it nearly every night just to make sure none of it had gone missing. This was her son’s money and if anyone tried taking it, she would stick a knife deep in their chest. She would die for her own flesh and blood, she’d happily do years in prison. Gary could never be trusted. She loved the guy but where money was concerned, she trusted nobody. The code of silence was something she adhered to and even when under pressure she would hold her own and never spill the beans. All criminals pissed in the same pot in her eyes and there was no loyalty where money was concerned. Not even with Gary. Rachel had noticed bits of things going missing from her personal belongings over the last few months; nothing major, just the odd tenner here and there. She had her beady eye on Gary, waiting to catch the fucker in the act. She never knew for sure but she had her suspicions that he was the tealeaf in her home. Every now and then she would set traps for him, but up to now she’d never caught him bang to rights. He was sneaky.

Rachel sat on the floor with her legs crossed counting the money, her fingers quickly flicked each note from the pile. She froze as she heard a noise from outside the room. With haste she dragged the sofa back to its original place and hurried into the hallway to make sure nobody was there. Her eyes scanned the area. Something wasn’t right, she took a few steps into the lobby and she could have sworn she’d seen Gary running back up the stairs. Standing on the bottom stair she held her ear to listen for any movement. Not a sound, complete silence. Her mind must have been playing tricks on her again. Rachel backed off slowly and kept looking over her shoulder as she headed back into the living room. She was spooked for sure. Sitting down on the sofa, she sparked a cigarette up with shaking hands. A fag always calmed her down when her head wasn’t with it. Rachel sucked hard on her cig and blew a large puff of grey smoke out in front of her. The nicotine was calming her down and the palpitations inside her chest seemed to be receding.

Sat alone with her thoughts, Rachel started to go over her life and ended up feeling sorry for herself again. Many a night she would just sit there and torment herself about the way things had panned out. The photo album always came out at this time of the night and she’d always get upset as she reminisced about days gone by. Her fingers stroked a snap of her son when he was only a small boy. Mikey looked so angelic and pure back then - he was unaware of what lay in his future. Was she really to blame for the way her son had turned out? Or was it just circumstances that had led him down the wrong path in life? She always asked herself the same question, night after night. She tormented herself with it. Holding the snap in her hand she kissed it and mouthed the word “sorry” as a single, fat, salty tear rolled down her cheek.

Rachel had a good upbringing herself and she’d never really wanted for anything in life. Her family home was clean and both her parents worked all the hours God sent to make sure they had a happy home and food on the table. So how the hell had it gone wrong? Mikey’s father, Dennis, had a lot to do with her downfall, she always blamed him, he was a no good bastard, scumbag and nobody knew the half of it. But, she could never tell Mikey the truth about him, it would break his heart. In her son’s head his father was his hero and he could do no wrong. Many a time she had wanted to expose him for the dirty horrible cunt he really was but even in her drunken state she kept schtum to protect Mikey from any further hurt.

Holding the photograph of Dennis in her hand she spat at it and threw it back down in the album as if it contained some lethal disease. She’d always planned to burn her ex’s photographs but Mikey would never let her. Dennis was his father after all and these photographs were the only real memory of the dad he loved and missed. He could rot in hell for all she cared, she’d dance on his grave. Dennis was the only reason she ever got involved with crime in the first place. Mikey’s dad had been a good-looking man and in his youth he had all the girls around him like flies round shit. ‘A fanny magnet’, he liked to call himself and he was right, he could have had the pick of any female he wanted in the area. He had charisma, a great sense of humour and when he was in the room everybody fought to be in his company. Rachel was seventeen when she first bumped into Dennis. It was on a night out with her friends and she was very drunk - steaming to be precise - when she first set eyes on him. All her mates fancied him but he was too full of himself for her liking, he thought he was God’s gift. Rachel hated him with a passion to start with but after a few nights in his company at the local pub she began to see what the big attraction was with him. Dennis was a charmer and he could make her laugh at the drop of a hat. There were silly cheesy jokes he told her that weren’t even that funny but still he made her chuckle. He never let Rachel buy a drink. No, he was always getting her beer in and making her feel special. He was a real gentleman, well, to start with anyway. Dennis ticked all her boxes and slowly but surely she began to fall for him, smitten she was, besotted.

Rachel was set to have a great career at this time. She was at college studying hairdressing and most of her assignments were A-star. She loved being creative. Her passion to stand out was for everyone to see. She created new hairstyles all the time and she wasn’t afraid to think outside the box. All the clients who came there asked for her by name and she was popular among her tutors. Dennis was a bad apple though, a dead leg. He constantly smoked weed and was heavily involved in the crime world. He didn’t know what day it was sometimes, he was twisted and couldn’t even remember his own name. She didn’t find this out until it was too late. He hid it all away from her and never once did he let the cat out of the bag that he was not the man she thought he was. He’d had her right over, pulled the wool right over her eyes. He hid a lot of things well, there were deep, dark, seedy secrets. That’s how it all started really, her downfall.

Slowly but surely Dennis got Rachel smoking weed and her life just went downhill from there. Everything she’d ever dreamt about seemed to float away after that. She had no energy and her passion for life seemed to die. Rachel was a like a plant that was never watered. Dennis soon changed his ways with her after she fell pregnant. The guy kicked off and told her straight that he didn’t want any sprogs hanging around. He never came home the night she told him she was with child and from then on she was always hearing whispers about him sleeping with other women. She knew in her heart they were true but she always made up excuses for his infidelity and turned a blind eye. What a fool she was! Rachel started to lose any self-respect she had back then and even though she knew her man was shagging anything with a pulse, she still pretended everything was rosy in the garden.

Rachel’s mother Agnes was devastated when she found out her daughter was in the pudding club and advised her that an abortion was the only way to solve her problem. Her daughter had no wedding ring on her finger and to be a single parent back then was frowned upon. “Get rid of the little bastard,” her mother hissed. “Are you tapped in the head? He’s a waste of space, he’ll never do right by you, trust me I know his sort a mile off.” Rachel would remember those words forever. Even though she hated admitting it, her mother was right. She always hit the nail right on the head especially with matters of the heart. Agnes always cared what people said about her and she knew without any shadow of doubt her daughter would be the centre of any gossip for months to come. Everyone had an opinion in the area and they were never afraid to voice it either. She could see it now, all the fish-wives gathered around outside the corner shop slagging her girl off. Rachel was never one to take advice though and she stood her ground and kept the baby. It was a big risk at the time but she thought she’d made the right choice. She was in love and just hoped that her and Dennis were going through a bad patch. What a bollock she’d dropped, her head was away with the fairies.

Motherhood was so much hard work and nothing like she expected. Rachel just presumed that having a baby would be a walk in the park and that it wouldn’t really affect her life, how wrong could she have been? Sleepless nights, shitty nappies, constant crying - it was all taking its toll on her. She wasn’t ready for anything like this. Agnes had never been the same with her daughter since that day. She told her straight that she’d ruined her life and she was washing her hands of her. Rachel had brought shame on her family name in her eyes and her mother could never forgive her for it. My God she tried, but it was there for everyone to see, she was gutted, heartbroken and completely devastated. So, there she was, aged eighteen living in a shitty one bedroom flat with a boyfriend who didn’t love her anymore. The man she once thought was her Prince Charming soon turned into a horrible, violent woman beater too. At first it was just a slap, but as time went on the beatings began to got worse. Rachel never stood a chance. Dennis was a big fella and he was strong, too. He was an evil, sick, twisted bastard and once he’d had a drink the beatings went on for hours. He physically and mentally tortured her all night long. When Mikey was just one year old her abuser picked her body up over his head and flung her against the living room wall. Two broken ribs she had and other injuries as well - she was lucky to be alive. But, she never told a soul, she protected him and pretended it had never happened. How could she tell anyone what was happening, she would have been classed as a failure! People would have judged her and she would have had to admit they were right all along. Fuck happy ever afters, they didn’t exist. Love was for fools.