The Know (7 page)

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Authors: Martina Cole

BOOK: The Know
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Jon Jon grinned.

 

‘Catches on quick, your mate, don’t he? I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m telling the truth. I was with Cherise, one of me birds. So who exactly saw me there?’

 

The DC was getting annoyed.

 

‘Never you mind.’

 

‘If I had been seen there, which would have been a lie, you would have arrested me by now, wouldn’t you? I know my rights, see.’

 

‘You can also afford the best brief there is. Fuck me, Giros must be worth a fortune these days. Only as far as I know you ain’t got a job, have you?’

 

Jon Jon’s solicitor Jeffrey Callington raised his hand and said: ‘You don’t have to answer that, Jon Jon. They found nothing at your home, and they have nothing even to put you at the scene. Now, if it’s all right with you gentlemen, I think it’s about time we left. My client came here of his own volition . . .’

 

The DC blew out his lips noisily as he interrupted.

 

‘With his solicitor in tow!’

 

Callington stared at the younger man disdainfully as he said, louder now: ‘Is there a law against that then? Only if so, I have never heard of it. If you aren’t careful we might be taking this further ourselves. This is the seventh occasion on which you have pulled my client in and each time you’ve wasted valuable hours of both his and my time.’

 

He smiled coldly.

 

‘I take it we can leave?’

 

The DC smiled back sarcastically.

 

‘Be my guest.’

 

Jon Jon grinned.

 

‘No, ta, I’d rather go home, but thanks again for the offer.’

 

Callington was still smiling as they walked from the room.

 

When the door shut on them the DC said through gritted teeth, ‘He was lying his head off.’

 

DI Baxter, a veteran of twenty years’ standing, answered him sarcastically, ‘No! You don’t fucking say?’

 

‘He’s alibied, sir, it checks out. The girl and her parents are willing to make statements.’

 

The WPC was still green enough to give people the benefit of the doubt. She smiled as she said: ‘Who do you think did attack the victim, sir?’

 

‘Well, I think it was that lying little bastard who just left, but I suppose Professor Plum in the library with a candlestick is a better bet at this particular moment in time. That is one 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 day.’

 

His father laughed at him as usual.

 

‘What the fuck have you got to look forward to? More food?’

 

Tommy was crushed, but he didn’t rise to the bait.

 

‘Do you want another cuppa, Dad?’

 

‘Go on then, son.’

 

For once Joseph felt a twinge of guilt. He was hard on the boy, but then living with Tommy was hard on him. His son was so
weird
, nothing to brag about, and Joseph needed to brag, it was in his nature. No one at work knew about Tommy, he had made sure of that.

 

Joseph had a girlfriend of sorts and now she wanted him full-time. It was such a bind. The fact he loathed his own son didn’t help matters either. But this morning he didn’t get in any more digs. When he left the atmosphere was neutral for once.

 

Tommy watched his father from the balcony until he disappeared round the corner and then he made his plans. Shower first, then he was going to put on his best clothes and at ten-thirty exactly he was going to walk over to visit his new friends. Oh, he was so happy! This was his first ever engagement and he didn’t want it to go wrong.

 

He wished his mother was alive. She would have been so proud of him. The Brewers seemed like such nice people.

 

 
‘Stop it, Jon Jon, please!’

 

Kira was terrified as her brother dragged Jeanette from her bed by the hair.

 

‘Just keep out of it, Kira, OK?’

 

Jeanette was trying to prise her brother’s fingers from her hair. She was already crying. He dragged her bodily into the front room then, throwing her roughly on the sofa, bellowed, ‘What have you been told, eh?’

 

He was so angry his eyes were nearly popping out of his head. He was obviously on something and it wasn’t cannabis.

 

‘What have you been fucking told! You
never
, and I mean
never
, leave our Kira on her Jack Jones.’

 

Kira was terrified as she watched the scene unfold before her eyes.

 

‘I didn’t mind, Jon Jon, I had a lovely time! Tommy let me play with his Barbies, and I had lovely cups of tea and that.’

 

Jon Jon grabbed at his own dreads in anger and frustration.

 

‘Can you hear her, Jen? Just listen to her. She spent the evening with a bloke who plays with fucking Barbies!’

 

‘He’s all right, Jon Jon. I think he’s queer to be honest.’

 

Joanie was the voice of reason as usual. She knew her son was more than capable of half-killing the frightened girl before him.

 

He poked his face into his sister’s as he shouted again: ‘Fucking Barbies? What next? You’d leave her with Fred West if it got you out for a couple of hours.’

 

He was spitting with rage now.

 

‘Do you realise she could have been taken away last night, spent the next few weeks in a fucking foster home? You know what the filth is capable of. It would make them laugh, knowing the aggravation they had wrought on us. And where was you, eh, while the house was getting torn apart? Come on, I want to know who he is so I can rip his fucking head off.’

 

‘But she wasn’t taken, was she? So get a fucking grip.’

 

Jon Jon took a step closer and Kira screamed. It was only this that stopped him from attacking the crying girl.

 

‘Well, that’s it now, Mum. She is grounded for the duration.’

 

He poked a finger at Jeanette.

 

‘You ain’t going out till the Second fucking Coming now.’

 

She jumped up and screamed, all fear gone at the thought of not being allowed out.

 

‘It ain’t up to you, it’s up to Mum! Tell her to stop working for once. Selling her crump to all and sundry while I look after her kid. Or better still, if you’re the man of the house, why don’t
you
keep us then?’

 

Joanie answered her.

 

‘I ain’t took a penny off any of you and I won’t, you know that. To all intents and purposes this is my house and I’ll say what happens in it.’

 

Jeanette laughed nastily.

 

‘You better tell him that then, because
he
thinks this is
his
house.’

 

She stormed into her bedroom, shouting, ‘I have to get ready for school.’

 

Jon Jon laughed despite himself.

 

‘That’s a first, ain’t it?
You
going to school?’

 

‘Leave her, Jon Jon, she got the message. Come on, Kira. Stop crying, love. What do you want for breakfast?’

 

‘Can I have anything I like?’

 

‘Within reason!’

 

Kira grinned through her tears and Jon Jon closed his eyes in distress. She was beautiful. Blonde and blue-eyed, she was going to be absolutely stunning - and she would probably never be any older in her mind than she was now. It was such a frightening thought.

 

Even after this rigmarole all she was interested in was getting a bowl of Coco Pops. Her attention span was so short this upset would be forgotten after the first spoonful.

 

He followed them into the kitchen.

 

‘Jeanette’s right, Mum. Maybe you should quit working. I can see us through.’

 

Joanie poured out the bowl of Coco Pops without answering him. He knew how she felt about his drugs, and she knew how he felt about her own particular way of dealing. It was a no-win situation.

 

‘She had a fright, she’ll be OK now.’ Joanie grinned suddenly. ‘He ain’t half a funny bloke. Nice enough, but so fat! I mean, honestly.’

 

Kira laughed.

 

‘Can’t I stay with Tommy, Mum? He has lovely things at his house, Barbies and treats.’

 

‘What did you do last night, Kira?’

 

Jon Jon seemed genuinely interested.

 

She thought earnestly for a few moments, her little face screwed up in concentration.

 

‘Er . . . we played Barbies, like I said, and then we watched
Sleeping Beauty
. Tommy has all the films - he loves princesses like I do. It was lovely. We had drinks of Coca-Cola and sandwiches and sweeties. It was fun.’

 

Joanie ruffled the child’s hair.

 

‘He seemed nice enough, bless him. And be fair, Jon Jon, he done us a right favour.’

 

‘I suppose so. But we don’t know anything about him, do we?’

 

Joanie shrugged.

 

‘What’s to know? He came up trumps for us and that’s enough for me. He’s a bit slow.’ She nodded towards her daughter. ‘That’s why they get on so well, I think.’

 

Jon Jon nodded sadly.

 

‘I see what you mean, Mum. Well, you suss him out, see what you think. He might be a touch with Miss Unreliable on the prowl.’

 

Joanie slipped an arm round her son’s waist.

 

‘Did you hurt Carty, son?’

 

He nodded.

 

‘I had to, Mum, he’s a fucking crack head. Caused me no end of grief.’

 

Joanie pushed her hair from her eyes and smiled.

 

‘I heard he was really damaged.’

 

She kept her voice neutral.

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