Jail Bird

Becks shook her head.

‘No. Well neither do I.’

‘But Lily,’ Becks’s voice was tentative, her expression uneasy, ‘what can you do about it? It’s all too late now. It’s done. And you know what I think? I really think the best thing you can do is…take off somewhere. Just go away. Somewhere new. Start again, make a new life for yourself.’

Lily looked at Becks in surprise. ‘What?’ she said at last. ‘Just…go away? Forget my girls? Forget that some arsehole fitted me up for all this? You ain’t serious.’

‘I am,’ said Becks, leaning forward and stabbing the table with a French-manicured fingernail to emphasize her point. ‘I’m completely serious, Lils. If you stay around here…what will you do? How will you live?’

‘I’ve got plans,’ said Lily stubbornly.

‘Lils, listen to me for the love of God. The Kings got it in for you. You know that. It’s only a matter of time before they make their move, and…’ Becks’s voice faded. She stared at the table.

‘And what?’ prompted Lily.

‘And…look, I’m sorry, Lils, but Joe…he’s not happy about any of this. He don’t want trouble with the King brothers. Who’d want that? You’d have to be mental to upset that pair.’

Lily was staring at Becks’s face. Her eyes were still averted, avoiding contact with Lily’s own. ‘So what are you saying, Becks?’ she asked, but she knew, she knew what was coming.

‘Joe thinks, I mean, we think, that…oh fuck it all, Lily, we don’t think you should stay here any more. I’m sorry.’

Lily’s face was a mask now, hiding her hurt, hiding her shock. This was Becks, after all. Her best friend in all the world.

‘They’ve talked to Joe, have they?’ she asked, and her voice sounded small, strained – not her own.

Joe was on the firm: everyone in their circle was on the firm. Antagonizing the Kings was not a sensible option.

Becks said nothing. She nodded. Lily saw it then, in Becks’s eyes – the fear. She didn’t mind helping Lily, but there was a line and Lily had crossed it. It was all very well to help a mate in trouble, but when that help put you in bother with the Kings, then you had to say, enough.

‘I don’t mind if you want to tell the probation people you’re still staying here,’ said Becks hurriedly. ‘I talked to Joe about it – he don’t mind doing that much. We’ll cover for you, if you want.’

‘Right,’ said Lily. ‘Yeah. Okay. Thanks for that. I’ve got an appointment to see her here next week…’

‘No probs. You show up, I’ll be here, it’ll be cool.’

‘Right.’

The perfect end to a perfect day. Her daughters hated her guts and now Becks was turfing her out the door. Lily was dry-eyed now, numb with the shock of it all.

The doorbell rang.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Becks, glad of the interruption. Lily could see the relief etched on her face as she bolted from the kitchen and along the hall. She heard Becks talking to someone, a man’s voice, light and husky. For a moment her heart leapt into her throat and she thought: Si King, oh God help me, or is it that lunatic Freddy?

Becks came back into the kitchen. She didn’t bring the Kings with her. Lily, pale-faced and wretched, looked up at her. Becks’s expression was awkward, her glance slipping away from Lily’s.

‘It’s the private detective bloke,’ she said. ‘The one you phoned.’

Lily had forgotten she’d made this appointment. She’d forgotten everything, in the excitement of getting to the church to be humiliated, rejected. An image of Saz’s white, horrified face came into her brain again and she squeezed her eyes shut to block it out. The pain was awful.

She opened her eyes and stood up. She was still wearing the cream linen; it was creased to hell now. She hadn’t even had a wash since she’d got in, she’d been too shocked, too hurt. She scuffed on her trainers and left the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. She went along the hall to speak to Jack Rackland, who she hoped could work miracles. Somehow, she doubted it.

12

He wasn’t what she had expected. Actually she didn’t know what she had expected, some seedy old weasel of a bloke with thin hair, a raincoat and a dewdrop hanging off the end of his nose maybe, but the man who stood at the door in no way matched that description. He looked to be about thirty-five, and he was bulky but not fat, medium height, neatly turned out in a well-fitted suit, shirt and tie. He had a good head of straight dirty-blond hair, a tanned intelligent face and very direct heavy-lidded light blue eyes. He was a good-looking man, and that surprised her. Not a weasel at all.

And here I am looking like shit, thought Lily, embarrassed.

‘Mrs King?’

‘Yeah, that’s me.’ Lily made an awkward gesture back at the kitchen. ‘Look, we’d better walk, my friend’s busy…’

She didn’t want to take him in the house, not after what Becks had said. She had some pride left – not much, admittedly – and she wasn’t about to infringe on Becks’s territory when it had just been made clear that she wasn’t welcome there any more.

‘Okay.’ He looked faintly surprised, but he turned back toward the gate and started walking. Lily came out, shut the front door and walked alongside him. In silence they went along the street, heading for the park. It was a gorgeous day and Lily should have been at her daughter’s wedding reception, mother of the bride, happy as could be.

Instead she was here. Ousted from her friend’s house. Talking to some dubious bloke who was probably going to tell her things she didn’t even want to hear about her late husband. Mud-stained and teary from Saz’s attack on her. She looked a mess. She felt a mess. She felt as if all the strength had drained out of her and she was glad when they reached the park and sat down on a bench beneath the shade of a big chestnut tree. They were close to the paddling pool, and they sat there in silence for a few moments, watching the kids splashing around, carefree, having fun, their mothers flopped out on the grass, relaxed but ever-watchful. Lily couldn’t help remembering her two when they’d been little. Happy days. All gone now.

‘I wasn’t sure I ought to come,’ he said.

Lily turned her head and looked at his face. He was a big man. He took up a lot of the bench. She’d got out of the habit of men, she realized, banged up with a load of hormonal women. ‘Oh? Why?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s an old case. I worked for Mrs Thomson, gathering information about women she suspected a particular man to be involved with.’

‘And you know that man was my husband, Leo King,’ said Lily. ‘And Mrs Thomson was “involved” too. With my husband.’

He looked at her. There was a brief flare of something like amusement in his eyes. ‘Look, whatever the ins and outs of it, the client’s always right, Mrs King. The client’s paying for the privilege.’

Ah yes, payment. She hadn’t thought about what he’d want for this. She hoped he wouldn’t ask for anything up front. She had a little cash from her prison work, but it wouldn’t be enough, she knew that. Nowhere near enough.

Did that slapper Adrienne have some brass neck, or what? she wondered angrily. Behaving like a betrayed wife and tracking all Leo’s other whores down.

‘Have you kept the records? I mean, you found them all. But have you still got their details on file?’ she asked him.

‘Twelve, thirteen years ago?’ He shook his head. ‘Unlikely. I don’t even remember that far back. Or not much, anyway. There was a nurses’ hostel, maybe. Something involving nurses, anyway. I’ve thought about it, racked my brains, but no good.’

Shit.

She wondered whether he was telling the truth. If he had to find them all over again, it could be costly for her, and a nice little earner for him. Being in the nick made you doubt people. Made you cover your own arse at all times.