Respect (Mandasue Heller) (18 page)

‘Whoops, sorry!’ he apologised, grinning as he reached out to steady her glass.

‘It’s okay,’ Chantelle murmured, dipping her head to hide the blush that immediately coloured her cheeks. ‘It was my fault; should have looked where I was going.’

‘Let me get you another,’ he offered, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping her wet hand. ‘What are you drinking?’

‘Coke,’ she told him. ‘But it’s okay, honestly.’

‘I insist,’ he said, dabbing at a wet patch on his shirt sleeve now. ‘Sure you wouldn’t prefer something stronger, though?’

‘No, I’m driving,’ Chantelle lied. ‘Sorry about your shirt. You might want to go and rinse it before it stains.’

‘It’s fine.’ He shoved the hankie back into his pocket and waved the barman over. ‘A Coke for the lady, and two bottles of white, please.’

‘Thank you.’ Chantelle settled back onto the stool as the barman went to fill the order. ‘But it really wasn’t necessary.’

‘Hey, it was my pleasure.’ He smiled and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. ‘Alone?’ he asked as he slid two £20 notes out.

‘Mmmm.’ Chantelle nodded and glanced towards the door. ‘I was supposed to be meeting my friend, but it looks like she’s not coming. Ah, well …’ She shrugged. ‘Suppose I’ll just have an early night instead.’

‘Looking like that?’ He drew his head back and gave her an admiring smile. ‘What a waste. Unless your other half is waiting at home? In which case I’m sure he’ll be delighted that your friend stood you up.’

Chantelle smiled and shook her head. ‘Just the dog – and she’s so old I’m not sure she even knows I’m there, these days.’

‘Poor you.’ He chuckled and passed the notes over to the barman. When the man went off to get his change, he gave Chantelle a thoughtful look. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you ever considered modelling? I’m only asking because I have a friend who runs an agency, and I’m sure he’d be pleased to meet you. You have a stunning face.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ Chantelle dipped her gaze as her heart began to flutter in her chest. If he was going to hit on her, it looked like this might be it.

‘Just a thought.’ He shrugged. Then, ‘Look, why don’t you take my number, then if you change your mind you can give me a bell and I’ll arrange a meeting. No pressure.’

Chantelle bit her lip. He didn’t sound like he was trying to chat her up, but Bill had told her to try and get his number. So, nodding, she took her phone out of her bag.

‘Okay. But I really don’t think I’ll change my mind.’

‘Totally up to you.’ He extended his hand. ‘Rob.’

‘Julia,’ she lied, noticing as she shook his hand that he wasn’t trying to hide his wedding ring.

‘Best get back before my pals think I’ve abandoned them.’ He picked up his bottles. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You, too.’ Chantelle smiled and reached for her fresh drink. She took a sip and watched through her lashes as Rob went back to his table.

When another half-hour had gone by, during which the suspect didn’t so much as glance her way again, Chantelle figured that he wasn’t interested and made her way back to the car.

‘Anything happen?’ Bill asked.

‘Not really.’ Chantelle settled into her seat. ‘I did talk to him, but he didn’t try it on. I’m hoping I pressed the right button.’ She took the videophone out of her bag and handed it over. ‘He caught me by surprise, so I had to do it without looking.’

Bill pressed play and listened to the recorded conversation. It was a struggle to hear the words clearly, but she got the basic gist of it. ‘Interesting,’ she murmured when it had finished. ‘Definitely didn’t sound like a chat-up, but he could have just been playing it cool.’

‘What’s the point of that?’ Chantelle asked, wrinkling her nose when the dog farted. She wound the window down a little.

‘Could have realised his wife is onto him,’ Bill mused. ‘She sounds the emotional type, so she’s probably not hiding her suspicions as well as she thinks she is. If he suspects she might be watching him, he’s unlikely to bite first time. That’s possibly why he gave you his number and disguised it as a good deed.’

‘What will you tell his wife?’

‘That he gave you his number,’ Bill said, starting the car and doing a U-turn before heading back out to the main road. ‘And that you’re going to give him a tinkle in a day or two; see if he bites when he thinks he’s safe to talk.’

Chantelle nodded, but she was already nervous. Rob Knight had seemed quite easygoing, but it would be so embarrassing if she rang and he didn’t remember her. And to make out like she wanted to speak to his friend about becoming a model seemed so vain. Worst of all, what if she forgot the fake name she’d given him? Then he would definitely smell a rat. But she couldn’t back out now.

14

The hall light was on when Chantelle got home, and she could hear calypso music coming from the living room.

‘Leon …’ she called as she slipped her jacket off. ‘What have I told you about leaving lights on? And why aren’t you in bed? You’d best not have been playing that music any louder than that, or—’

‘God, don’t you ever stop nagging?’ A laughing voice cut her off.

‘
Mum?
’ Chantelle’s jaw dropped.

‘The one and only!’ Mary laughed and ran out into the hall. ‘Come here and give me a hug, you!’

Chantelle didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or go mad. Her mum had been gone for ages, yet she was acting as if she’d done nothing wrong.

‘Come and meet Miggy.’ Mary broke the embrace and grabbed Chantelle’s hand. ‘You’ll love him. Him and our Leon are getting on like a house on fire.’

Dragged into the living room, Chantelle frowned when she saw the mess. There were beer bottles everywhere, and the air was thick with weed-smoke. Tracey was sitting on the couch alongside a swarthy man with greasy hair, and they both looked wrecked. Already annoyed, Chantelle was really pissed off when she saw Leon sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bottle of beer in his hand and a daft grin on his face.

‘How many have you had?’ she demanded.

‘
Six
.’ He smirked. It was a lie, he’d only had one, but who cared what she thought? His mum had said he could have it, and she was the boss, not Chantelle.

‘Leave him alone,’ Mary scolded. ‘He’s on his holidays.’

‘He’s only ten.’

‘So what? They start ’em younger than that in Spain. Anyhow, shut up moaning, and say hello to Miggy.’

The man smiled up at Chantelle as his gaze slid slowly down her body. ‘Very beautiful,’ he said.

‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Mary demanded, nudging Chantelle none too gently. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’

Chantelle’s heart sank when she saw the bright, glassy gleam in her mum’s eyes and realised that she was high on speed or coke. Her mum always started out giddy and jovial like this, but she could flip at the slightest provocation and get really nasty.

‘I’m tired,’ she murmured, eager to escape before her mum’s mood switched. ‘I’m going to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.’

‘Sod that,’ Mary scoffed, grinning as if she thought it was a joke. ‘We’re having a party, so go grab yourself a glass before I smack your arse. And you still ain’t said hello to Miggy. He’ll be thinking you’ve got no manners.’

Chantelle breathed in deeply. Then, forcing herself to smile, she extended her hand to the man. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Miguel grasped her hand and raised it to his lips before rising unsteadily to his feet and pulling her into a hug.

‘All right, put him down,’ Mary blurted out, following it with a laugh to make it seem less like the attack of jealousy that it actually was.

Chantelle prised herself out of the embrace and backed towards the door as the man fell back onto the couch. But Mary wasn’t about to let her leave just yet and, shoving a glass of rum into her hand, she pushed her towards the armchair, saying, ‘Get that down your neck and lighten up, misery guts. It’s supposed to be a party, not a bleedin’ wake.’

Chantelle didn’t want a drink, but she knew that her mum would be upset if she refused, so she took the glass and perched on the edge of the seat.

‘Our Leon says you’ve got yourself a job,’ Mary said, refilling her own glass before handing the bottle to Tracey.

‘Just a bit of office work,’ Chantelle lied, flashing Leon a hooded look of annoyance.

‘Sounds like a right barrel of laughs,’ Mary sneered. ‘Bit late for offices to be open, though, isn’t it?’

‘It’s an all-night business,’ Chantelle said quietly.

‘Sacked off the idea of sixth form, then, have you?’ Mary flopped down on the arm of the couch and draped her leg over Miguel’s. ‘’Bout time, if you ask me. It’s a bloody waste, all that studying; never gets you nowhere. Look at me … not an exam to me name, but I’ve done all right. Got me lovely kids, me own flat, and a fit-as-fuck fiancé.’

‘Fiancé?’ Chantelle gave her a questioning look. ‘I thought you’d got married?’

‘Not yet,’ Mary told her. ‘It would have been too expensive over there with all his relatives expecting an invite. There’s about four bleedin’ hundred of ’em,’ she confided in a loud whisper, as if she thought Miguel wouldn’t be able to hear. ‘But they can fuck off if they think
I
’m shelling out for them to stuff their greedy gobs. Gonna do it here at the registry office instead, then go down the dole office and get him added onto my claim before we go back.’

‘You’re not staying?’

‘No chance! And neither are you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Youse are coming with us,’ said Mary. ‘I’m sick of looking after his mam and dad on me own, so I want you there to help me. Our Leon’s well up for it, ain’t you, son?’

‘Yeah, sounds ace.’ Leon grinned. ‘They live right near the beach, and Miggy reckons all the girls are naked.’

Disgusted when the man gave Leon a wasted grin and stuck up his thumb, Chantelle frowned at her mother. ‘Do you really think that’s appropriate?’

‘Oh, don’t start,’ Mary moaned. ‘He was only having a laugh. Do you really think I’d be smiling if I thought he was out eyeballing tits all day? I’d smash his bloody face in.
Innit?
’ She nudged Miguel, and repeated in a terrible Spanish accent, ‘I’d smasha your bloody face in if I catcha you looking at girls’ titties.’

Miguel nodded, but it was clear from his glazed eyes that he was too stoned to understand what she had said. ‘I need bathroom,’ he mumbled, edging off the couch and stumbling towards the door.

‘Thick git,’ Mary snorted when he’d left the room. ‘Good job his dick’s got a mind of its own, or he wouldn’t have two brain cells to rub together, bless him.’

‘Thought he was supposed to be the love of your life?’ Chantelle sniped.

‘He is.’ Mary reached for the bottle to top up her glass. ‘I’m only having a laugh.’

When a knock came at the front door just then, Tracey said, ‘That’ll be the pizza.’

‘Go get it, babes,’ Mary ordered.

‘What did your last slave die of?’ Tracey grumbled, pushing herself up to her feet.

‘I hope you ain’t expecting me to pay?’ Mary drew her head back when Tracey held out her hand. ‘I bought the booze, so this is on you, mate.’

‘I ain’t got no money,’ Tracey informed her. ‘And you never said nothing about me paying, or I’d have told you not to bother.’

‘God, you never change, you,’ Mary sneered. ‘Happy to sit here supping my booze all night, but come time to put your hand in your pocket and you’ve got all the excuses under the sun.’

‘You should have asked before you ordered it,’ Tracey argued. ‘Anyhow, you invited me round, so don’t start having a go just ’cos I’ve had a few.’

‘God, stop arguing,’ Chantelle said, pulling a £10 note out of her bag. ‘I’ll pay. Here.’

‘Wow, wonders never cease!’ Mary leaned over and snatched the money out of her hand. ‘Never thought I’d see the day when
you
coughed up. Best hope you didn’t disturb the moths, or they’ll be eating us alive in a minute.’

Chantelle gritted her teeth as Tracey got up and lumbered out into the hall to pay for the pizza. Her mum had a cheek making out like Chantelle never contributed when she had been keeping Leon the whole time her mum had been gone. And she would tell her so – tomorrow, when Mary was sober.

A loud bang in the hall shook the pictures on the wall behind the couch. Shocked when Tracey let out a terrified yelp, Chantelle jumped to her feet just as the living-room door flew open and Ricky Benson strode in.

He paused in the doorway and looked around. Then, smirking when his gaze landed on Mary, he said, ‘Well, well. Someone said they’d seen you, but I said,
nah
– she wouldn’t have come home without telling me. Not when she knows I’ve been looking for her.’

‘I was going to call you,’ Mary said, sliding off the arm of the couch. ‘But I—’

‘Don’t bother.’ Ricky cut her off. ‘I can’t be arsed listening to lies – just give me my fuckin’ money.’

‘Tomorrow.’ Mary licked her lips. ‘I’ll get it tomorrow, I promise.’

‘Ain’t good enough.’ Ricky cracked his knuckles and walked slowly towards her.

‘Leave my mum alone!’ Leon yelled, jumping up and running at the man, the beer bottle raised in the air.

‘Behave!’ Ricky lashed out with the back of his hand and laughed when the boy went flying into the wall.

‘How dare you!’ Chantelle cried, rushing to her brother and squatting beside him. ‘Get out before I call the police!’

‘Oh yeah?’ Ricky stalked over and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her back up to her feet. ‘Thought we’d already had this conversation, darlin’?’ he hissed, pushing her up against the wall and staring down into her eyes. ‘Forgot already, have you? Need me to remind you, do ya?’

‘What is this?’ Miguel asked, walking in just then.

‘Get him out!’ Mary cried, rushing to stand behind him. ‘He’s just burst in and started hitting the kids. I don’t even know him!’

‘Lying bitch!’ Ricky spat, glaring round at her as he held Chantelle up against the wall. ‘You know damn well why I’m here. I want my money, and I ain’t going till I get it.’

‘Let her go and get out,’ Miguel ordered, squaring up to him.

He was a little taller than Ricky, but he looked ill and weak, and Ricky figured he could easily take him if he had to. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of this,’ he sneered. ‘It’s got nowt to do with you.’