Shape of Snakes

'Then he isn't the first, and he won't be the last.'

She eyed me suspiciously. 'You're pretty laid back about it. You must have a lot of faith in your boys.'

I gave a noncommittal smile. 'I'd be more worried if Danny was still on heroin.'

'No chance of that.' She plugged in the kettle. 'It's the one good thing Mr. Drury did for me ... caught the stupid little bastard at it one day and put the fear of God into him so he'd never go near a needle again.'

'How did he do that?'

'He gave him a choice: punishment now, or a care order imposed by the juvenile court. Danny chose punishment now.' She laughed. 'I think he thought Drury was going to slap him about a bit ... didn't reckon on honest-to-God sadism.' The idea seemed to amuse her.

'What did he do?'

'He broke off the needle and pressed it into Danny's arm with the edge of his handcuffs, then told him if he went to a doctor to get it removed there'd be that many questions asked he'd find himself in care so quick his legs wouldn't touch the ground. It was two days before Danny could find the courage to cut down deep enough to pull the needle out with a pair of tweezers. He's never been able to look at a syringe again without turning green.'

'That sounds like Mr. Drury's style,' I murmured. 'Brutal but effective. Did you report him for it?'

'Did I hell!' She spooned coffee into the mugs. 'In any case I was grateful. The last thing I wanted was one of my children dead of an overdose.'

A silence fell while we waited for the kettle to boil. I had no idea what kind of background she came from, but Drury's parting shot to Danny-'How's that downtrodden slut of a mother of yours? Still on the booze?'-was uncomfortably close to the mark. My mother would say it was breeding (or lack of it)-a scientist would say it was genes-I would say it was poor education and low self-esteem. If she cared about anything at all, I thought, it was probably her benefit checks and whether they would buy enough smokes and alcohol to last her through the week.

Her windowsill was lined with empties, testimony to the drinking habit she hadn't been able to kick. An unopened bottle of vodka stood beside the salt and pepper on the table like an unearned reward. But if she was drunk or stoned on Prozac that day it wasn't noticeable. Indeed in some ways the sharp, assessing glances she kept flicking in my direction reminded me of Wendy Stanhope, although there was no kindness in them, only suspicion.

'Thank you,' I said when she put a mug of coffee in front of me. Out of habit, she had added milk and sugar, neither of which I could stand, but I sipped enthusiastically as she sat herself in the chair opposite and lit a cigarette.

'Do you want one?' she asked.

I shook my head. 'I never got hooked, thank God. If I had, I'd be a sixty-a-day woman by now.'

'How do you know?'

'I have an addictive personality. Once started, I can't stop.'

'Like this thing with Annie?'

'Yes.'

Maureen gave a baffled shake of her head. 'You wouldn't have liked her, you know. That's what makes this all so ... stupid. If anyone else had found her, there'd have been no fuss, she'd have been quietly buried and we could all have got on with our lives.' She paused to draw pensively on her cigarette. 'You, too,' she added, watching me through the smoke.

'I haven't done badly so far.'

She dropped ash into her saucer. 'Except you can't let her go, and that's not healthy.'

I might have answered that Annie was the least of my obsessions but I didn't want to put her on her guard. Instead I asked, 'Why wouldn't I have liked her?'

'Because she wouldn't have liked you. She didn't like any white people. We were all 'white trash' to her. She used to chant it through the kitchen wall whenever Derek raised his voice. 'White trash ... white trash...' On and on for minutes on end. It used to drive him mad.'

'Is that why he hated her?'

She nodded.

'Perhaps he didn't like hearing the truth?' I remarked dryly.

A wary expression crept into her eyes. 'We never claimed to be anything we weren't.'

The pretense at friendship began to unravel at speed. 'You were known as 'the family from hell,' Maureen. When you and Derek weren't screaming at each other, your children were running riot in the street. I've never known a group of people make their presence felt so rapidly in so short a time. Alan's favorite occupation was to practice his jump kicks against other people's front fences. He flattened Annie's within a month of you being rehoused here ... and ours within three months.'

She bridled immediately. 'He wasn't the only one. Michael Percy was just as bad.'

'I agree.'

'But it was always my Alan who got the blame.'

I shook my head in disagreement. 'Michael faced up to what he'd done. Your son never did. Alan used to run away the minute trouble appeared and leave Michael to take the flak.'

'Only because he knew his father would give him a larruping if he got caught.'

'But it was all right for Michael to be given a larruping?'