Human Conditioning (34 page)

Lily hesitated, then pressed,
“How long ago did she miscarry?”

“About six months ago.”

“How did you find out?”

“She told me.”

She frowned and glanced at him.
“She didn’t tell you that she was pregnant, but she told you she’d miscarried?”

Aiden hesitated then replied,
“She told me to spite me, Lily. She’s very... temperamental.”

Lily nodded in consternation.
The memory of Gina’s spitefulness on the final day of school came to mind: that
day when she had had to part from her best friend and Aiden all at once. It
still smarted, even now.

As they entered Victoria Park,
Lily led Aiden to one of the park benches and they sat beside each other.

“She loved me,” Aiden went on
unexpectedly. “She thinks she still does, but...” he tailed off and frowned in
deep consternation then added, “I don’t understand why she would...”

Lily turned to him and placed
her hand on his knee. “You are very lovable,” she whispered.

A smile crept into the corners
of his mouth, but it was short-lived. He announced, “I was horrible to her.”

“Why?” Lily whispered, this spell
of honesty surprising her.

He shrugged. “Because I could.
I never loved her...” he tailed off once more and hesitated, as if he wanted to
say more, but he didn’t. He turned to focus on the immaculately mowed lawns of
the park. It seemed a million miles from the bleakness of the estates where he’d
been groomed. A man and woman passed them in the distance. They were holding
hands. The man was pushing a buggy with his spare hand and the woman clasped
hold of a small child. The image spread a blanket of warmth over him and he
took Lily’s hand and squeezed it gently.  

“It feels good to talk to you,”
he muttered as he continued to scan the picturesque scene before him; a scene
that flaunted so much harmony and held so much hope.

He wanted to share things with
Lily – things that he’d never wanted to share with anyone else in his life. Yet
his sins were too heinous for someone like her to understand. He
wished
he could tell her some of the things he’d done and why he had done them; he
wished
she would understand why he had become the man he had. But she wouldn’t, and he
couldn’t expect her to, because she was an innocent, a girl from the
right
side of the tracks.

From the moment he had been
born, he had known what it was to struggle. The cruelty and neglect that he had
received throughout his life at the hands of the two people he should have been
able to trust more than anyone, was harrowing. He had lived with the weight of
his parents’ neglect all his life, desperately trying to shield his sister from
it all whilst at the same time failing to cope with his own anguish.

He hated being so angry all
the time. He resented the fact that he couldn’t free himself from the storm that
continuously stirred in his mind, but having known very little peace growing up
had conditioned him to become the mass of fury he was today. Everything now was
a threat. Everything now signalled confrontation, and everyone was to be
approached with suspicion.

He had been
conditioned
to
hate his parents,
conditioned
to take control over every situation,
conditioned
to scoff at all authority, and he’d had to carve his own path the only way he
understood. Because all that he had done, all that he was still doing, was what
he had learned from all of his guardians: his parents, Grant, even Reggie to
some extent...
Human conditioning
– that was what the psychologists
called it. He was a product of his upbringing, a product of his environment.

He glanced back at Lily. She
was a beaming ray of light, filled with an inner glow, an inner goodness and he
could feel the pull of her. He wanted her to draw him out of the dark he had
lived all his life and take him into the light – her light. “Do you love me?”
he asked, his expression strained with the significance of her answer.

He turned and gazed into her light
blue eyes and took the side of her face in his hand. Just by her expression,
the affirmation of her final and absolute commitment to him, he finally
realised that she did love him and he loved her, the way he understood love to
be. But his love would never, could never, be unconditional. Because
unconditional love left a person totally reliant on another’s ability to secure
their happiness and he would never allow himself that luxury again. He had only
ever been disappointed in the past. He couldn’t trust that kind of love, and
though deep down he accepted that Lily deserved so much more, he couldn’t let her
go. He couldn’t allow her to be with anyone else. He wanted her; he
needed
her. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

May 1990

Aiden stood in Kamal’s living room staring down at a
black box the s
ize of a briefcase with a phone
receiver attached to it and the logo ‘
Vodafone’
printed at the very top
of the receiver. “It’s a phone,” he stated with bemusement.

“It’s
not just any phone. It’s a transportable mobile
phone. It can
be used as a mobile unit in a
car or as a portable phone,
”
Kamal
answered, in awe of his new toy.

Aiden’s
eyes met his. “Yeah. I’ve heard of these... does it work?”

“Yes,
of course.” Kamal turned and retrieved an exact replica of the phone unit from
the floor by the side of the sofa, and lowered it down next to the other. “This
one is yours. It’ll improve our communication. I suggest you leave it in your
car.” Aiden’s eyebrows rose as he peered down at the large object. “They cost
just under two thousand pounds, but the battery lasts about twenty minutes or
so. You’ll be able to contact me from anywhere.”

“It’s hefty...” Aiden
remarked.

“Yes, they are a little heavy,
but it’s the future, Aiden. Soon, everyone will have one. Kyle and Kris have
one. It’s been useful being able to contact them whenever I like. It’s really
sped up the communication process.”

Aiden nodded, clearly
impressed. He lifted the receiver. “Dial this number,” Kamal instructed with
enthusiasm. He handed Aiden a piece of paper with a number scribbled upon it.
Aiden took it and stared down at the phone receiver. Pressing the correct keys,
he dialled and held the phone to his ear.

“Nothing’s happening,” he
announced immediately, with his usual impatience.

“Wait for a second.”

Suddenly there was a ringing
in the earpiece, and a couple of seconds later the box next to his began to
sound. Kamal lifted the receiver of his own mobile unit and spoke into it.
Aiden’s eyes widened. He was clearly impressed. He held out his own receiver,
searched the key pad and pressed the red button – which, logic assured him,
would end the call. It did and he set the receiver down. “And this will pick up
anywhere?”

“Pretty much... not
underground or anything, and I’ve been warned that there may be certain areas
that can cause problems with the signal, but we’ll pretty much be mobile and
able to communicate the majority of the time.”

Aiden presented his
‘impressed’ expression once more. “I might get my wife one of these. She can
put it in her car. It would make me feel a lot less anxious when she goes out
alone,” Aiden muttered, almost to himself.

Kamal nodded impassively, then
his mobile unit began to ring. Aiden smiled with excitement. “Pick it up!”

Kamal lifted the receiver. “Yes?”
he said, his tone clipped and filled with authority all of a sudden. Aiden idly
wondered who else Kamal had given his number to. It was soon revealed that it
was Kris on the other end of the line, and seeing Kamal frown, he watched him
intently, wondering what Kris was reporting. “I’m still at the apartment with
Aiden, but we’re finished here now.” Kamal silently listened for a few more
seconds before he cut off the call. Replacing the receiver, he turned to Aiden.
“Keep my number safe. Your number is overleaf.” Aiden turned the paper over to
see another number. “Learn them quickly then dispose of that,” Kamal added,
nodding down to the piece of paper. “We do not want anyone getting hold of it.”

Aiden nodded. He hesitated
then asked, “Everything alright with Kris?”

“Yes,” Kamal replied and walked
away towards the hallway. Aiden could see him from the living room. He was putting
on his coat. “He was just updating me about some deal we’re making with some
investors in India,” Kamal added, shrugging on his black trench coat.

“Investors in what?” Aiden
enquired with natural intrigue.

Kamal smirked. “Never you
mind, Mr Foster.” Aiden scowled. Kamal didn’t ask him to leave, but Aiden knew
a cue when one was so obviously given, and, picking up his new portable phone,
he followed Kamal to the front door of the apartment. Kamal opened it and
allowed Aiden to exit first. “Oh, how are the girls doing at the flats?” he
asked as he locked the door and he and Aiden headed towards the lift. 

Three months had passed since
Aiden’s proposal to restore the block of one-bed flats on the Kingsland estate
in order to house the girls he currently had and to employ more. The flats had
been bought and paid for and were currently under construction.

When it came to housing his
girls, Aiden had to arrange for someone to act as a Landlord, legitimately
renting out each property – which, of course, he had already arranged. All
costs for restoration had been considered during negotiations regarding the
price Kamal had been willing to pay for the property and, in the end, with some
Aiden Foster-style persuasion, the council executive had agreed to all his demands.
Part of the property had already been completed and signed off, so now he was
housing twenty of his girls, including Gina Watson.

Just last week, Aiden had
moved Gina out of Carlton House and into one of the restored Kingsland flats.
She had gone willingly at the promise that a powdered treat would be waiting
for her, and she was now settled and ready to work. Her first punter was to
arrive at 6:30pm that evening, and she would see four different men each night
– except on Sundays, when Aiden permitted her a day off. All the girls would
work six days a week, but their days off would vary so that their services were
offered every day of the week. At an average of £200 a session, four times a
day, six days a week, currently with twenty girls, he was about to earn a fortune
and, when all the flats were complete, he’d have another thirty heroin-enslaved
girls ready for business.

“It’s a goldmine,” Aiden
replied, still brooding over Kamal’s furtiveness about the investment deal. It
was true that he had still not been given an in to Kamal’s firm, and moments
like these reminded him that he was still just a pawn in his very well-networked
organisation.

Kamal’s enquiry about the flats had reminded Aiden that
he needed to speak to Jessie Lesley, a short red-head with large bouncy breasts
who lived and worked in one of the flats on the Kingsland estate. She had
witnessed an attack on one of his girls at the weekend, and Aiden needed to get
to the bottom of it so that he could find the arsehole who had done it and chop
his balls off.

When he arrived at the flats, Gina
was draped over the balustrade on the third floor, having a cigarette and
staring sorrowfully out over the bleak grey stone of the scene below. She
glanced up through her long, black lashes and her whole body constricted when
she realised that it was Aiden walking towards her. She hadn’t seen him for
months. She stepped back to block his path and her eyes narrowed. “When were
you going to tell me?”

Aiden rolled his eyes and
asked carelessly, “Tell you what?”

“
That you got married... to
her
!” she bellowed suddenly, taking him by complete surprise.

He took her elbow and pulled
her into the open door of her flat. Slamming the door shut, he pushed her away
from him. “What you shouting your mouth off for?”

Gina suddenly began to cry.
Aiden stared at her, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. She turned and walked
briskly into the living room. He followed and stood against the door frame, watching
her warily as she slumped onto the sofa and began rummaging through the rubbish
sprawled all over the coffee table, searching for the little silver tin that contained
the ingredients and equipment required to obtain her regular high. Her eyes
were streaming with salty, unmanageable tears. She located it and, with shaking
hands, she stubbed out her cigarette and began preparing a hit.

As she strapped a belt around
her arm, just above her elbow, she sobbed, “What about me?” She pulled the belt
tight, too tight, and she winced. Concentrating on the blue vein that began to appear
in the inside of her elbow, she expertly injected herself. “I thought you and
me...” she tailed off as Aiden stepped into the room and halted in front of
her. She peered up at him.

“You thought me and you what?”
he asked almost in a whisper, watching her unnervingly, and surprised by seeing
her so expert with the syringe.

She sniffed, and, undoing the
belt, she threw the syringe on the table and relaxed back on the couch, gazing
up at him. She wiped her nose with the cuff of her sweatshirt. “I thought you
cared about me,” she snivelled.

Aiden closed his eyes for a
moment and sighed. “G, I’ve told you,” he said, exasperated.

“I love you, Aiden. I think
about you day and night. You’re all I care about. You’re the only person in the
world who has taken care of me. I need you...”

Aiden ran a hand over his face
and, forgetting himself, he instinctively replied, “You have me...”