‘I know you were already using heroin,’ said Cooper.
‘So she told you all about that, too? She must really think a lot of you, Ben.’
‘I think it just slipped out.’
Angie raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, yeah? My little sister doesn’t let things slip out, unless it’s for a reason.’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Well, you’re right. The thing is, I was stealing stuff from the house to pay for it. Stealing from our foster parents. That’s why there was so much trouble. They just couldn’t deal with it, with the idea that this was the way I showed my gratitude. So I had all this shit flying around my head all the time until I thought I was going to be sick on their Axminster carpet, and all I could think about was the next hit. You know, as long as you get your daily fix, you don’t care about anyone. You’ll use anybody, steal or rob, just for a hit. They always say it’s the needle that some people get addicted to, not the drug. They call it needle fever. So it was better for me to leave - better for Di, too. I couldn’t stand the thought that she would follow the same route.’
Angie was staring at the ceiling again, rather than look at
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Cooper. As he had expected, tears began to form in the corners of her eyes as she spoke. She made no attempt to wipe them away, and they streaked her face as they trickled across her cheekbones.
‘So it’s not quite true that you didn’t care about anyone,’ said Cooper.
Angie flushed. ‘Don’t try to trap me. I’m telling it like it was. You need to know that, no matter how strong you are, heroin is stronger. I’ve done cold turkey many times, and they’ve had me on a detox programme. Do you know how long you have to wait for help from the Drugs Service? Up to twenty-eight weeks for an appointment. Six months. Do you know what can happen to you in that time? Do you know how easy it is to die? It doesn’t take six months. I went through hell doing all that, but I always went back to the drugs. No matter how strong you are, heroin is stronger in the end. It’s always there in your brain, and it just calls you and calls you. I know Diane would try to make me stop, but I couldn’t deal with that. Neither of us could deal with that.’
Cooper was silent. Despite the deception and the performance he was watching now, the feeling was creeping over him that Angie Fry was essentially telling him the truth. He wasn’t entirely convinced, but there was sufficient doubt in his mind.
‘I’m still not sure that I shouldn’t phone Diane right now and tell her you’re here,’ he said.
‘They told me you were Di’s friend. If you care anything about her, you won’t let this happen to her. You won’t let me happen to her.’
Cooper shook his head. ‘The trouble is, I really don’t think there’s anything I can do.’
‘She has false hopes, don’t you realize that?’ said Angie, with a brief flash of anger that Cooper found familiar. ‘Diane has expectations that I can never live up to. Quite the opposite. When she found out the truth about my life, she would be so ashamed of her sis that it would knock the bottom out of her world. She always had a kind of fragile sense of security. She always needed something to hang onto to make her feel safe in the world.’ She paused, and gave him that challenging smile, even through the tears. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me that people change in fifteen years?’
Cooper wanted to tell her exactly that, but sensed that Angie was right. It fitted in with his own impressions of Diane. He had always thought there was an underlying fear that she barely kept
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suppressed by hanging on to the stable things in her lite - her job, and her promotion ambitions. And her memories of her sister.
‘Are you on or off it right now?’ said Cooper.
Angie Fry smiled that slow, sad smile, but with the instant deviousness in her eyes, the expression that told him she was wondering what lie to use.
‘Maybe I’d better not tell you that/ she said. ‘You being a policeman, and all. I wouldn’t want to compromise your principles.’
And Cooper knew she was right. If Angie was using heroin now, he would be in difficulties. If she had to get her fix while she was here, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to be forced into that position.
But he couldn’t help studying her eyes, an automatic reflex from his training. Of course, Angie saw him doing it, and met his stare with undisguised challenge.
‘Red eyes, it’s dope,’ she said. ‘Dilated means amphetamines. But “pinny” eyes - then, it’s heroin.’
Cooper kept on looking. But something must be wrong with his powers of observation. When he looked into Angle’s eyes, he couldn’t see any of the symptoms of drug abuse. All he could see were the pain and the loneliness. And beyond them, that brief flicker that turned his heart for a moment as he looked deep into the eyes of Angle’s younger sister.
He watched her pick up her rucksack from the floor. ‘Where are you staying tonight?’
She straightened up, pushed the hair from her forehead, gave him that smile. ‘I don’t know. Can you recommend a good shop doorway somewhere? I’ve got the sleeping bag.’
‘You’re living rough?’
‘I’m on the streets. What did you think? That I was staying in some smart little hotel with room service and an en-suite bathroom?’
‘Haven’t you got any money?’
‘I haven’t had a chance to get any today.’
‘How do you usually get money?’
‘How do you think?’
He hoped she meant by begging, but he decided not to press it. ‘You shouldn’t be sleeping on the streets, Angie.’
‘Tell me about it.’
