New Reality 2: Justice (6 page)

"Wait."
 

A flamboyant flick of her head sent her blonde bob swirling out like a scythe.
The woman clearly thought she was the shit… she looked like a bloody idiot.

Clip! Clip! Clip!
She threw her arms wide. "Frankie, darling; how the devil are you?"

Keeping her mouth shut was the only option for Marie.
How had Frankie remained friends with this woman? She was a fucking nightmare.

It hurt Marie's heart when Frankie smiled.
What was it about this ridiculous person that he liked?
 

"Kitty," he said, "how wonderful to see you. How goes it?"

Kitty grabbed Frankie's shoulders and spoke so everyone could hear. "Fantabulous, darling."
Mwah! Mwah!
Two air kisses were aimed at either side of his face.

Frankie cleared his throat and pointed at Marie. "You remember Marie, right?"

Fire flushed Marie's cheeks as Kitty stared at her. What she would give to knock the bitch out.
 

After a few seconds, her eyes widened and she clicked her fingers. "Of course; she's your cleaner, right?"

When Frankie laughed, Marie glared at him.
What the fuck was he laughing for?
The smile fell from his face. "No, she's my housemate."

"Of course… I'm sorry. Do forgive me." She flashed a brilliant white smile, framed by scarlet lipstick, and held her hand out for Marie to kiss. "Pleased to meet you."

When the rich chemical punch of Kitty's perfume hit her, Marie fell into a coughing fit. It both smelled and tasted like fly spray. Once she'd recovered, she stared at the outstretched hand.
Who the fuck did she think she was?
"We've met several times before," Marie said.

Both Kitty's facial expression and arm dropped. "Oh, I'm sure there's some reason why I don't recognise you." She ran her eyes up and down the length of Marie's body before settling on her breasts. "Have you put on weight?"

The burn of her nails digging in her palms took the edge off Marie's rage. Instead of replying, she stared at the vicious bitch.

Frankie stepped in between them. "Anyway, Kitty, what brings you here? You always used to have your shopping delivered when we were together. I thought you hated these places."

"Oh, I do." Her face twisted as she turned to look at her personal shopper. It was like being in his presence gave her a bitter taste in her mouth. "I just wanted to get out of the house and pick some clothes for my birthday meal next week."

"Birthday meal? Nice. How old?"

A crimson pout and Kitty turned away from Frankie. "You should know not to ask a lady that."

The words came out before Marie could stop them. "He didn't."

A storm cloud passed over Kitty's face before she grabbed Frankie's hand and pulled it to her bosom. "You must come. The gang would love to see you."

Marie tightened her fists as she stared at Frankie's hand nestled in Kitty's cleavage.
Why wasn't he pulling it away?

"Well, I… I'm not sure, Kitty. I don't know what I'm doing. Next weekend you say?"

Just before Marie could tell Frankie they were busy, Kitty cut in.

"Friday—about eight—at Belle de la Rue; invite your cleaner if you like."

When Frankie smiled and nodded, Marie's jaw fell loose.
What the hell?

"Sure, sounds great," he said.

Kitty squealed as she clapped her hands together. "Excellent." Two more air kisses and she said, "See you next Friday." She winked. "My cousin Marsha's coming. I'll make sure you sit next to her. She'll love you."

Before either of them could reply, Kitty spun on her heel, clicked her fingers at her personal shopper, and walked away.
 

As the tightly strapped red bottom marched to the metronome of her heels, Marie said, "What just happened there?"

"We're going to a party next weekend."

"Oh no, we're
not.
"

"I can't
not
go now, Marie. Why don't you stay at home and I'll go by myself?"

"So
Marsha
can flirt with you all night?"
 

"I thought we'd got past this?" Frankie said. "Kitty's a friend. I know she's my ex, and I know it's hard for you to accept that, but she's just a friend now. Besides, she's one of the few people that know about my past, and I want to keep it that way. If we're friends, she has no reason to tell everyone."
 

Just looking at him boiled Marie's blood.

"Come on, Darling, let's do our shopping."

When Frankie walked off, Marie remained where she was, watching his back and grinding her jaw.
Maybe they would start doing online shopping…

Chapter Ten

The smell of leather on the train was a damn sight better than the reek of dirt on the bus. The replacement service from Navidson's House Station to Delial Station was a pain. At least she was back on the train now.

 
Monday mornings were always the worst, especially after spending the weekend with Frankie—even if he was being a dick at the moment. The stress of their situation was really getting to him. She told herself it was important to remember the man she fell in love with. The kind and patient man. The sensitive man. He'd come back to her soon.

Marie leaned back in her seat and stared out of the train's window, squinting against the glare of the sun. They were travelling at speeds of well over two hundred and fifty miles per hour. Although when she closed her eyes, it felt like they were stationary; the train glided along the rails as if they were greased up.

To look down at the side of the tracks made Marie's head spin. The landscape flashed past so quickly, it was no more than a blur. Farther away was the agricultural land on the outskirts of the city. Yellow heads of wheat glowed in the sun… a thick buttery carpet of sustenance for the wealthy. Razor wire and electric cables topped the fences around them while dogs and armed guards patrolled the perimeter. This was the gold the city protected, not the semi-precious metal sitting in the banks' vaults. This was what those from the estate wanted more than anything.
 

Lethargy sat in Marie's bones, so she leaned back and let her body sink into the cushioned seat. Life became slightly more challenging with every passing day. The slow change of her body as it prepared for the baby was an exhausting experience.
How was she going to cope as she got close to full term?
 

The previous night had been long and fitful. When she and Frankie went to bed, she turned her back on him and remained that way. It was made worse by the fact that he went out like a light so she had to listen to him snore. That was his way; the more stressed he got, the better he slept.
Was she over-reacting? Was accepting an invitation to Kitty's meal that bad? Maybe she'd have fun when she got there.

It was easier to rationalise without Frankie there, because she didn't have a face in front of her that she wanted to punch. Kitty was one of the few people who knew of his past; maybe she deserved the benefit of the doubt. After all, it had been several years since she and Frankie had split up, and she still hadn't told anyone his secret. Marie wondered if it would be a problem if Kitty wasn't his ex. Sure, she'd still be a bitch, but bitches are easier to tolerate when they haven't had sex with the man you love.

The sight of the estate broke through Marie's thoughts and twisted her guts. No matter how many times she passed it, her reaction was always the same—that was where they were headed.

Was she being selfish keeping the kid?
It didn't matter how much she wanted to be married, they had no solid plan to make it happen. There was nothing to build a future on.

Abortion would solve a lot of problems. If she went down that route, however, she'd have to visit a backstreet butcher. The state wouldn't help. Maybe it was just a rumour, but the thought of a rusty power drill shoved up her… Marie's stomach tightened.

The estate was no more than an ugly collection of raggedy tower blocks. They all reached for the sky as if the desperation of the residents was forcing them higher—as if they were seeking salvation in the clouds.
 

"Ain't it 'orrible?"

Marie jumped and spun around to see an old man staring at her. His skin was dark, and a mess of wrinkles ran over his face. Bushy, white eyebrows stood in stark contrast to his complexion. He raised them and flashed a toothless grin at her, crow's feet speeding half way around the back of his bald head.

Conscious of the cameras she couldn't see, Marie looked around the quiet carriage before looking back at the man. "The estate, you mean?"

"No, the golden fields of wheat swaying in the breeze."
 

It took a few seconds before he revealed his sarcasm with a smile, his bright eyes lighting up. "Of course, I mean the estate. It's bloody 'orrible. Poor bastards whoever it is that 'as to live down there."

The corset restricted Marie's deep inhalation and it did little to settle her heart.
Poor bastards indeed
. As if feeling her stress, the baby shifted in her womb.

The man sat down next to Marie and dug his bony elbow into her ribcage.

When she squealed, a woman peered at her over the tablet she was reading.
 

"What's your name, love?" the old man asked.

Marie kept her eyes on the woman who had just looked up. She replied to the man, "There are spare seats if you want to take one of them."

The old man's laugh was so loud it was the only thing that could be heard in the carriage. "But if I sit over there, I'll 'ave to shout for you to 'ear me."

Like he wasn't shouting already.
Marie stared at him for a moment.
Who was this funny old man?
She smiled, despite herself. "Yeah, I suppose you will." She held her hand out. "Marie. My name's Marie."
 

A conversation with the old geezer wasn't going to do her any harm. Hell, maybe it would take her mind off things; God knew she needed it.

The man's grip, although dry and twisted, was surprisingly strong for someone who must have been in his eighties. "Oscar."

A loose lock of hair fell in front of Marie's eyes, so she tucked it behind her ear and smiled at the man again. "Pleased to meet you, Oscar."

After a glance out of the window at the estate, Oscar said, "I know most people don't talk to one another nowadays, but I'm from a different time, love—a time where everyone 'ad something but no one 'ad lots. Now it seems that only a few 'ave lots and everyone else 'as nothing. You're one of the lucky ones, you know."

Even from this distance, Marie could see the multi-coloured stacks of rubbish around the base of the buildings on the estate. It clearly hadn't been removed for years. Rot and decay seeped into the very foundations of the grim place. It was impossible to see from here, but it looked like there was no way the children could avoid the dirt.
How many of the poor little sods got ill from the lack of sanitation? She was one of the lucky ones, but for how long?

"I am too," Oscar said. "When things started to change some years ago, I made a few good investments that saved me. Many people I know ended up down there."

"Do you ever see the people you used to know?"

Oscar paused for a moment as he frowned at her. "Are you new?"

"What?"

"Are you new to this city, love? We don't mix with them. They live on the estate and we live in the city. That's the way it is and that's the way it's gonna stay."

As the estate disappeared from view, the shiny office buildings of the city filled the skyline. Two different cultures—two different worlds—sitting side by side like sharks and minnows.
 

"And you don't ever miss the people you used to know?"

"Sure I do, but what's the point in dwelling on it? I ain't going down there to see them; probably all dead now anyway. You're lucky if you make it to fifty down there.

"The way I see it, Marie, is that we're the lucky ones. We're the ones who are privileged enough to live this life, so we should make the most of it. We can't do anything to stop the government treating those on the estate like shit, so we may as well enjoy what we 'ave. Life's fleeting. It seems like only yesterday when I was your age and 'ad a bright future. Before long, I'll be gone and I'll be able to say I enjoyed my turn. You can't select the ride, love, but you can choose 'ow loud you laugh."
 

Another booming guffaw followed his comment. The old boy opened his mouth so wide, Marie could see his tonsils.

Before Marie could reply, Oscar put a gnarled hand on her shoulder. Arthritis had twisted his digits so his fingers looked like old rope. "We're in a position to take exactly what we want from this life. We're one of the few who can, so you should make sure you follow your 'eart while you 'ave the chance. You can shape your destiny. There ain't many that can say that in this world."

When the train stopped, Oscar pulled himself to his feet with a groan. "Take care of yourself, girl, and make sure you choose the life you live." His green eyes glowed. "That's the
power
you 'ave in this world. You drive the bus, not anyone else."

As Oscar picked a wobbly path off the train, Marie held her stomach. The old man was right; she did have a choice. All she wanted was to be a mother and wife. Between her and Frankie, they could make it work. They had to.

Chapter Eleven

It was the first time Marie had walked to work with a smile on her face since she could remember. There was something special about Oscar; the briefest contact with him had warmed her heart. The old boy was right; this was their moment, their time to take advantage of their privileged standing in this world. There would be a way for them to have this baby, and she'd be a great mother. Frankie would be an amazing dad too, and the stress of life would get easier to manage. They'd make it work.

When she rounded the next corner and looked up, the warmth turned instantly frigid as all her hope vanished. At the end of the long street, massive and resolute, was Rixon's headquarters. The building was an imposing fortress of brick and steel that stared down at her as if she was its victim. It was so large, it blocked out the sun. A buzz of anxiety shimmered through her.