Tough Love (22 page)

‘And how much have you spent?'

‘About twenty grand.'

‘Twenty grand?' Tracy shrieked. She'd not seen anything like twenty grand. ‘And you're moaning about me buying brandy that's not fucking blue stripe. You cheeky sod.' She wanted to kill him. ‘And what happens now you've got no money left?'

‘I'll apply for some more.'

Was she really hearing this? Tracy wondered. She was all for free money, but even she knew that credit-card companies might want theirs back at some stage. ‘You'll be black-listed, you knob. Anyway, fuck that – I'm not interested. How you dig yourself out of the shit is your lookout. What I want to know is what I'm meant to do now.'

Paul wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘What do you mean? We'll get out of this together.'

‘“We?” Sod that for a game of soldiers. There is no
we
. You lied to me and I'm meant to stomach it, am I? Sit back like a good little girl and pretend I don't mind?' Tracy asked, blind to the fact that she had never sat anywhere and pretended to be a good little girl.

‘Course there's a we. How much have we been through, Trace, me and you?'

Tracy walked off. She wasn't listening to him. Paul chased after her and grabbed her arm. ‘Get off me!' Tracy shouted, drawing stares from passers-by. ‘What you lot looking at?' she screamed. No one bothered to respond.

‘Don't go, Trace. I love you!' Paul pleaded, but she ignored him.

Stomping up the street, Tracy was outraged. What had she done, kicking Kent out and replacing him with that lying, two-faced Paul? She forgot that the only reason Paul had done any of it was so he could be with her.

*

Jodie was inspecting her cheekbones in the mirror. She had to be at work by three but she had half an hour to kill. The door to the bathroom flew open and Tracy fell through it, looking the worse for wear.

‘Nothing like knocking,' Jodie said indignantly.

‘It's my bathroom. I'll come in when I like,' Tracy bellowed.

‘Yes, Mum, I got on dead well in London, thanks for asking, and, yeah, it looks like I'm going to be in the papers next week.'

‘Like I give a shit,' Tracy said nastily.

‘Course, I forgot for a moment. Thought this was
Neighbours
and I'd been adopted by a nice family.' She added, under her breath, ‘Twat.'

Tracy spun round and grabbed her daughter's hair. ‘What did you call me?' She slammed Jodie against the bathroom wall.

Jodie panicked. Her mum hadn't flown at her like this in ages, and the last thing she needed was a black eye in case she got called to anything by the
Globe
. She shielded her face and tried to duck away from her mum, but Tracy kicked out and caught Jodie across the shins, sending her flying on to the floor.

Jodie scrabbled to her feet. ‘Come on, then, Mum, have a go, if you think you're so hard,' she
spat, finding her feet. She'd tackled bigger than Tracy at the Beacon.

‘You ungrateful little bitch!' Tracy yelled.

Jodie didn't know what any of this was about but she wasn't planning to ask. Her mum didn't need a reason to kick off.

‘Oh, yeah, dead ungrateful. You've sweated blood for us over the years, haven't you?' Jodie ran past her and down the stairs.

‘I fucking have!' Tracy howled.

Jodie grabbed her bag and ran out of the door. She didn't stop until she was at the Beacon. Inside, she flew to the back of the bar.

‘You all right, love?' Val asked, as Jodie sped past her.

‘I'm fine.' But once she was upstairs in the staff changing room she realised she wasn't fine at all. She threw back her head, wishing the tears away. She needed to leave this place. She needed something that meant she could choose when to see her mum, so she wasn't forced to face her every day. Because even when Tracy was happy and smiley everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she'd blow again.

*

Tracy was necking brandy and listening to Burt Bacharach, feeling sorry for herself. What had she
done to deserve her mob? she thought. Ungrateful, grasping lot. And that Paul, pretending to have money.

Tracy crawled across the lounge on her hands and knees to the phone. Then she crawled to the table where she dumped any bumph that came through the door. She had just filled up on more coke so her movements weren't those of a drunk but of a wired madwoman. She searched through the letters until she got to the one she was looking for. One from some shady bank promising her that she had qualified for a credit card. She punched the number into the phone.

‘Hello, I'd like to apply for a credit card, please,' she said, thinking, If you can't beat them, join them. One of the reasons she was angry with Paul, although she didn't want to admit this, was that she'd never thought to do this herself. What did she care if she ended up bankrupt? At least she'd have a royal knees-up between now and then.

The woman at the other end of the line went through the application form with Tracy – who was dabbing the remains of her last line of coke and rubbing it on her gums – then put her on hold.

Eventually the woman was back. Tracy couldn't believe her ears. ‘What do you mean I've already got a card and it's at its limit? What limit?' Tracy tried to piece together what this meant in her addled mind. ‘Four grand! Fuck off! … I don't care
if you shouldn't have to listen to language like that, I've not got no frigging credit card. Someone's got one out in my name and gone on a spending spree, haven't they, you silly cow?'

The line went dead. Tracy sat staring at the receiver then took out her frustrations on it. She smashed it against the table. It broke. ‘For fuck's sake!'

She jumped up and poured herself another brandy. That fucker Paul, she thought. He's gone and got credit cards in my name as well as his own. Well, I'll show him. She wasn't sure how she'd show him, she just knew she would. What she
was
sure of was that she'd developed a liking for money and wasn't about to be left in the poorhouse again.

Since she'd destroyed the landline, she located her mobile. She scrolled to K in her address book and pressed dial.

Kent answered almost immediately.

‘Kenty, baby, it's me,' Tracy said, and burst into tears – of self-pity, but he wasn't to know that. They could double up as tears of regret for now. ‘I'm so sorry, I want you back,' she sobbed.

Kent was all ears. He said he'd known she'd change her mind because they were meant to be together. He promised to be round as soon as he could. Tracy smiled through her crocodile tears. At least someone was bothered about her.

It was Saturday and still Leanne hadn't contacted Markie. The more she thought about it, the more she didn't want to. She loved her brother but she hated the way he had to be in control of everything. She knew she'd have to call him today, but for the moment she was avoiding her phone.

She had spent the morning with Tony. They had been looking at two-bedroom flats in town. Leanne couldn't afford anything but she was desperate to get out of Tracy's house – if not for herself, for Kia. Tony had said he'd lend her the deposit and Leanne still had one overdraft that wasn't at its limit, so she could use that for the first month's rent if she needed to. It wasn't much of a way to live, she thought. She needed security for Kia.

She had seen a place she liked not far from where Markie was living. It was seven hundred pounds a month, which, compared to Greenwich, was a pittance. Tony had persuaded her to call the
estate agent and sign up for it. The place would be free for her to move in next month, and if she couldn't afford to do it by then, she could pull out and lose the deposit. Tony said he didn't need it back, but Leanne told him she wouldn't take money off him if she didn't think she could repay it. She had arranged to go to the letting agency at lunchtime on Monday to sign up for the flat.

Today the house was eerily quiet. Tracy wasn't about – in fact, Leanne hadn't seen her for days – and Jodie had been staying at a friend's because she and their mother had quarrelled earlier in the week.

Kia came into the room with a drawing she'd been doing in the kitchen. It was of three stick people, one of whom looked like the Incredible Hulk. He was even painted green, but that, Leanne thought, was because green was Kia's favourite colour. The stick people were holding hands.

‘That's lovely, sweetheart,' Leanne told her.

‘That's me, that's you and that's Tony,' Kia said, pointing at the Hulk.

‘Is Tony green?' Leanne asked.

‘Don't be silly,' Kia said, as if she was dealing with an imbecile. ‘I ran out of pink paint.'

‘Shall we put it on the wall in the kitchen?' Leanne asked.

As she tacked it up, she remembered it wouldn't be too long before she had a kitchen wall of her own to pin things to.

Her phone rang. She picked it up from the worktop. Victoria Haim was calling. Why's she ringing on a Saturday? Leanne wondered.

‘Hello.'

‘Hi, Leanne.'

‘Everything all right?' Leanne had sensed that everything
wasn't
all right.

‘One of the other tabloids is printing an exposé on you from a family member.'

Leanne felt every muscle in her body tighten. ‘Oh, my God.' She put a hand to her mouth. She felt as if she was about to be sick.

‘They claim to know for a fact that Kia is Jay Leighton's child. They're going big with this one. It'll be a front-page splash. Unfortunately the informant's been promised anonymity and I can't find out who it is.'

‘Oh, my God,' Leanne said again, fighting back angry tears.

‘I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I didn't want you to wake up tomorrow morning and see it. I wanted you to be prepared.'

‘Thanks for letting me know.'

‘Do you think you might know who it is?'

‘I haven't a clue who'd do this to me,' she said. But there was only one person she had told about Jay Leighton and he was proving time and again not to care how ruthless he was when it came to earning money.

*

Leanne had asked Tony to take Kia to the park for an hour but hadn't said where she was going. She had wanted to tell him about the conversation she'd had with Victoria but she knew he'd talk her out of what she was about to do.

She waited outside Markie's flats until someone went in and followed them into the lift. She got out at Markie's floor and walked to his door. She had never felt so angry. It was one thing making money out of a picture of her having her hair done, as she knew Tracy had done a couple of times, but this? It was diabolical.

Leanne tried the door, which was open. She burst into the apartment. Markie sat bolt upright in bed, as did the woman next to him. ‘You.' Leanne pointed at the woman. ‘Piss off home. Now!'

‘What the fuck is this about?' Markie grabbed the sheet and pulled it round himself. His companion grabbed her stuff, jumped into her clothes and made for the door. ‘You mental bitch!' she shrieked, as Leanne glared at her brother.

‘This better be fucking good,' Markie said.

‘Oh, it's that all right,' Leanne said. ‘It's blinding, Markie.' She stepped closer to him. ‘I know I'm from a scummy family, I'm not under any illusions about that, but selling something to a tabloid that I told you in complete confidence? It doesn't get any lower.'

‘What are you on about?'

‘That's right. Play dumb. There's only you in the whole world knows that Jay is Kia's father, only you, and just because I've pissed you off by going out with your mate, you sell me to the highest bidder.'

Markie got up, grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. ‘Sit down and shut up,' he hissed. ‘You think I've gone to one of the papers? You seriously think I'd do that?'

‘You're the only person who knows.'

‘But I'm not the only person who
thinks
they know, am I? There's a queue a mile long of people who'd make some money off you, but I'm not one of them, you stupid little girl.'

‘Don't call me stupid! You think you can sweet-talk your way out of everything. I saw what goes on with you and Mac. You beat people up and take their houses from them. You had Tony beaten up. You're a nasty piece of work, Markie, and I'm not falling for it any more.'

Markie ran his fingers through his hair, then spun round and punched the wall. He pulled his fist back, shaking his hand. His knuckles were bleeding and there was a dent in the plasterwork. ‘Fuck you, Leanne. You come back up here on your arse and I sort you out a job, one I didn't need anyone to do but so you had some money coming in. And what do you do? Bang on about how hard-done-by you are and accuse me of stitching you up. Well,
bollocks to you. All I've ever done is look out for you – and this is how you repay me. Get out of my sight.'

Leanne's resolve was wavering. No matter what she thought of Markie's shady business practices, he really didn't seem to know what she was talking about. ‘Well, even if you didn't do it, what do you expect me to think?'

‘What do I expect you to think?' Markie echoed. ‘I expect you to think that I'm the only one who's stuck by you through thick and thin.' He pulled her up and marched her to the door, then manhandled her out of the flat. ‘And don't come back in a hurry.'

He slammed the door. Leanne heard the lock being turned. She stumbled to the lift, mind racing. If Markie hadn't done it, she had irreparably damaged their relationship for nothing. She was shaking and on the verge of tears as she fell out of the lift into the downstairs foyer.

She got into her car and was about to call Markie to say that if he hadn't done it she was sorry, but she knew he was in no mood to listen to her. Instead she headed off to Tony.