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Authors: Michael Robertson

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BOOK: New Reality 2: Justice
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"I'm not sure. He looked sad, but he also seemed like he was in on it."

Frankie looked back at the screen. "What the government don't realise is that by building an economy on cheap labour, they've weaved the people from the estate into the fabric of this city. If they all pulled together, I'm sure they could bring Nirvana to its knees."

Marie focused on Hank Manifesto again. "…as you can see from the footage, the terrorists stood up on benches and barked orders at their hostages."

Although she kept her eyes on the TV, Marie saw Frankie looking at her in her peripheral vision and said, "They've muted the people from the estate, Frankie. They've cut out what they said."

As if he'd heard her, Hank Manifesto appeared on the screen again. "I'm afraid the explosion killed the audio part of the recording. However, one of the terrorists' victims said they were preaching extreme views about taking over the government."

"I wish we could turn these bullshit news reports off. All they said was they wanted people to understand how bad their lives were. How they were so desperate to be heard, they'd blow themselves up."

"That's pretty extreme, Marie. I can see why people would label it as terrorism."

"Of course it's extreme, but surely, that extreme behaviour is a measure of their desperation, not their sanity."

"You don't need to tell me that. I
know
what it's like on the estate." Frankie slumped back into the sofa. "This society's fucked up. The powers that be are gripping too tightly."

When Marie saw herself onscreen, she lost her breath and covered her heart with her hand.
Frankie didn't need to be seeing this. No one needed to see it. What if Doug was watching?

Marie's interaction with the woman from the estate was brief, but Frankie noticed it.
Of course, he fucking noticed it.
 

"You made it obvious you were pregnant?" he said, astounded.

"What else could I do? They were about to blow us sky high."

He pulled his hand from her back and ran it through his hair. "But what if someone else works it out? You weren't exactly subtle. Jesus, Marie; are you
trying
to get us sent to the fucking estate?"

Tears burned Marie's eyes and her voice cracked. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Uh, I dunno… hide the fact that you're pregnant maybe? Fucking hell, Marie, why don't you go all out next time and wear a 'bump on board' T-shirt? Maybe you could start asking people on the train to give up their seat for you." His eyes widened when he jabbed his finger against his temple. "What were you thinking? I'm having sleepless nights trying to work out how to afford this fucking child and you're telling random strangers that you're pregnant."

Hot tears ran down Marie's face as she stared at Frankie's rage. "I didn't feel like I had much choice. We were going to
die
. What part of that don't you understand? They were going to kill us!"

Frankie turned back to the television. "You do realise that someone will study this footage and work it out, don't you? I wouldn't be surprised if Doug knows by the morning and you end up not having a job to return to."

"I was going to
die
, Frankie." Marie's words broke with her raised voice. "Is that what you would have wanted? Would that make your life easier if the baby and I were
killed
? It would save you having to worry about life on the fucking estate, wouldn't it?"

For a moment, Frankie stared straight at Marie. Then he stood up, shook his head at her, and walked out of the room.
 

Marie fell back into the sofa and sobbed.

On the television screen, Marie watched the recording of the female terrorist walk over to their leader as Hank offered a sombre voiceover. "This woman must have seen sense. No one knows what she said but, whatever it was, it broke through their leader's zeal."

The screen merged back to Hank as he spoke again, "When the civilians cleared, the police moved in. That was when the terrorists detonated the bomb. Our thoughts are with the brave officers who sacrificed their lives to keep our streets safe from harm. I would like a minute's silence in their honour."

After less than thirty seconds, Hank's face lit up. "This is Hank Manifesto for
Nirvana TV
." He pointed his fingers in the shape of a gun and clicked from the side of his mouth as if calling a horse. "Stay safe, people."

***

For about the next ten minutes, Marie stared at the blank screen. It was only when Frankie walked in that she broke away from her daze.
 

"I'm sorry, Marie. It wasn't fair for me to get cross. It's just… I feel so scared about ending up back on the estate. I do want to be a dad… I'm just finding it
hard
."

Marie wiped her eyes and nodded. "I'm finding it hard too, but we can't turn on each other. I'm not an idiot, Frankie. I know what revealing my pregnancy means, but the terrorists were about to blow us all up. I didn't have any other choice. I'm scared about ending up on the estate too." Just talking about it burned her stomach. "Petrified, in fact."

Frankie sat down next to Marie again, grabbed her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Everything's going to be fine. We'll work something out. I didn't want to tell you about this because nothing's been confirmed, but I may have some extra money coming in."

"Through teaching?"

After a slight pause, Frankie nodded. "Private tutoring."

What wasn't he telling her?
When Marie tried to look into his eyes, he looked away.
What was he hiding?

"I'll do some extra time at school. It means I'll be staying late most nights."

Something wasn't right. "Will it pay enough to support us all?"

"If it works out, yes."

There were too many things for Marie to worry about already. If Frankie said he was sorting something, she needed to trust that. Marie hugged Frankie and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. Thank you for everything you're doing for this family. You're going to be an amazing father."

Hugging her back, Frankie buried his head into her sweaty neck and said nothing in response.

The thought still lingered in her mind,
what was he hiding?

Chapter Nine

Life moved on like it always did; by the time it got to the weekend, the news of the terrorist attack had been replaced by many other stories reminding the good citizens of Nirvana just how dangerous the estate rats were. The replacement bus service from Navidson's House train station was a pain, but that only really mattered if Marie needed to head in the direction of work. Today they were heading the other way.

As Marie rocked with the motion of the train, she sniffed the air and ruffled her nose. "Can you smell that?" The old trains were horrible. Not only did they stink, they were nowhere near as smooth as the newer ones.

Frankie looked around the deserted carriage, sniffed, and then shrugged. "What?"

"Dirt. It smells like dirt."

Another sniff of the air, and Frankie wore the same blank expression. "I don't smell anything. Maybe you're imagining it?"

The earthy smell of dirt was so strong for Marie, it was like she'd snorted mud. "I'm not imagining it; it's my bloody sense of smell. Since becoming…" She trailed off. The carriage may have been empty, but that didn't mean people weren't listening in. There could be a camera anywhere in this damned city. "Anyway, I can smell
everything
, and I can tell you that this carriage hasn't been cleaned in a
long
time."

"Do you think we should start getting our shopping delivered? It'll save us coming to the supermarket every Sunday."

When the baby kicked, Marie drew a sharp breath and fought the urge to hold her stomach. The baby was moving more and more. It would take some getting used to.

Frankie reached across and touched her forearm. Heavy bags lay beneath his eyes. The stress of their situation was doing them both in. It was like their lives were being funnelled into a dead end.
 

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

When Marie nodded, Frankie pulled away from her. They couldn't be too affectionate in public. As far as the state was concerned, these two were just flatmates. Cohabiting as a couple was fine, but most people kept it on the down low to avoid extra government surveillance.
 

Once the baby had settled down, Marie took a deep breath. "I like going shopping on a Sunday. It's nice to get out of the house. When we stay in I feel like I'm sitting around waiting for Monday to come." Just the mention of work sent an anxious wobble through her guts.
 

"I understand," Frankie said, rubbing his puffy eyes. "It's nice to stretch our legs, isn't it?"

It was obvious his enthusiasm was faked. Coming shopping on a Sunday meant he was missing a day of televised sport, but bless him for trying.

***

About ten minutes later, they arrived at their stop. When Marie stepped from the train, the outside heat hit her like an uppercut. The air conditioning on the train hadn't felt like it was doing much until that moment. Sweat instantly stood to attention on her brow and she stumbled for the first few steps. Although she fanned her face with her hand, it did nothing to combat the stifling heat.
 

When Frankie touched her back, she moved away.

"Are you okay?"

Marie nodded. Sweat ran down her spine and wound her back tight. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's so hot, I don't want to be touching
anyone.
" She tugged on her corset and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I wanted a day without this, but I was too worried someone would notice. It's made the heat wave this summer even more unbearable."

"It's the hottest it's been in years." Frankie pointed a thumb over his shoulder and flicked his head in the direction they were going. "The megastore is air-conditioned."

It was only on the other side of a huge car park, but in this heat, it looked so far away. Marie swallowed an arid gulp. "Come on, let's go."

***

By the time they'd got to the megastore's entrance, sweat stung Marie's eyes and her legs wobbled as she walked. If the store were any farther away, she wouldn't have made it.

With Frankie by her side, they entered; the fresh air conditioning tingled against her hot skin. There were a lot of people in the entrance, but that didn't stop her thrusting her arms to the side to bask in the cool air.

Frankie spoke to her from the side of his mouth. "You're making a show, Marie."

Marie closed her eyes and continued to enjoy the fresh environment. "I don't care if people are watching. I need to cool down."

"But
everyone's
looking at you."

"I don't care."

A man in the store's green uniform approached them. Like many people from the estate, his skin was clay-red. Frankie's had never been like that. Ever since Marie had known him, he'd looked just like her and her peers.
Was that how he'd managed to slip into society without any problems?
They'd spoken about it, but the only explanation Frankie ever had was a shrug and ‘I dunno’.

The man smiled. "Personal shopper, Madame?" It was one of the many subservient roles given to those from the estate. The middle classes were put on welfare rather than expected to take the lower jobs in society. It wouldn't do to have them working with estate rats.

Frankie shook his head at the man. "No, thank you." He then ushered Marie away with him.

As they walked off, Frankie leaned across to say something to Marie, but the store's loudspeakers cut him off.

"While Tall-mart prides itself on zero crime inside our stores, we'd like to remind you that your personal shopper is from the estate and
can't
be trusted. Make sure all of your personal belongings are kept away from them at
all times
and please remember
not
to tip them. It's an honour for them to help you with your shopping."

When Marie saw Frankie's strong jaw tighten, she put her hand on his back. Because his T-shirt was so thin, she felt the tension knotted in his muscles. "What were you about to say?"

It took a few seconds for Frankie to relax the scowl on his face. "Sorry, it's that—"

"Announcement, I know." No matter how many times they came here, the pre-recorded message always got to him.

After a pause, Frankie looked back at the entranceway. "I recognised that personal shopper. I used to live in the same block as him. We never spoke; no one ever does on the estate, but I used to pass him every day on my way to school."

"Maybe he'd be happy to see you doing well for yourself?"

It wasn't often Frankie looked at Marie as if she was an idiot, so when he did, it cut straight to her core. Contempt sat on his face as he said, "You haven't got a clue what it's like, have you?"
 

"Well, maybe if you tried telling me, rather than being so bloody hostile every time we spoke about it…"

"He
hated
me.
Everyone
hated me. I was an outcast on the estate because I was going to school and had a chance to get out. I was an outcast at school because I was an estate rat. I'm everything that both the people from the estate and the middle classes resent. I don't fit anywhere."
 

The anger left him as he looked at the line of green-uniformed personal shoppers waiting to please Tall-mart's clients. "That could have been me. Doing some shitty job in society and getting treated like a second-class citizen because of my postal address."

Just before Marie could reply, there was a high-pitched, shrill cry that ran up her spine.
 

"Frankie! Darling."

Clip! Clip! Clip!
 

Each clip of a stiletto heel wound Marie's back tighter. After a deep breath, she forced the smile and turned around. Huge blonde hair, big boobs, and red leather trousers marched up to them.
Kitty-fucking-Trollope. Great!

Behind Kitty was the personal shopper that offered himself to Frankie and Marie, and before they got too close, Kitty showed him the palm of her hand; her piercing blue eyes were as cold as ever. "Stay." The man stopped.

BOOK: New Reality 2: Justice
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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