front. And hated herself for it afterwards. Told the john there were plenty of girls who made a living that way, but she wasn’t one of them.
She hated it. Wouldn’t take it. It was one of the two things she couldn’t abide, the other being a slap in the face. Anyone did that to her, she would turn round, punch them out. Same as the word. Bitch.
It worked on her like spinach on Popeye. Gave her super strength. Made her super angry.
Super fucking angry.
She felt Rose Martin pushing her down, felt her knees start to buckle.
‘That’s it, you fucking bitch, go on-’
And the world turned scarlet, spun off its axis.
Donna didn’t kneel, didn’t go anywhere near the floor. She lifted her right foot, brought it down as hard as possible on Rose Martin’s right instep.
The policewoman screamed.
Donna felt the grip loosening. She wouldn’t get another chance. Leave it too long and it would just make her angry. She stamped down again, harder this time. Caught the copper’s shin as she did it.
Another scream, another loosening of her grip.
Donna pushed down with her arm, as hard as she could. Got it loose, bent it back, shoved her elbow with all her strength into Rose Martin’s ribs. Caught her right on the diaphragm. Felt the air huff out of her.
Donna turned quickly, saw Rose Martin preparing to come back at her. Without thinking too much about it, she reached over to the bedside table, picked up the lamp. It was small, light and cheap, but it would have to do. She swung it as hard as she could. It connected with Rose Martin’s cheekbone. She followed through, put all her strength into the shot. Saw the copper’s head snap back, her body spin round.
Rose Martin hit the side of the bed, fell to the floor.
Donna threw the lamp aside, brought her leg back, took aim, let loose a kick. Rose Martin screamed. Donna heard and felt ribs splinter and crack. She swung her foot back, ready to do it again. Feeling the adrenalin course through her, loving the sense of power it gave her. She smiled. Kicking a copper. Brilliant.
But her jubilation was cut short. Rose Martin grabbed her ankle, caught it in mid-swing, twisted.
Donna’s turn to scream. She felt her knee twist, heard cartilage rip, felt her leg go in the wrong direction. She tried to move with the twist, minimise the injury. She spun, hitting the floor hard.
Saw Rose Martin claw herself up on to her knees, arm wrapped round her shattered ribs, moving towards her, intent on keeping going.
Donna looked round the room for weapons, couldn’t see any.
She felt for the kitchen knife. Lying there, she fumbled the blade from her pocket, hoped she had it to hand before Rose Martin started on her again. She pulled it free. Rose Martin was on her. Donna drew the blade back, gripping the handle, ready to stab.
But didn’t.
A scream rent the air. The two women paused, stared at the source.
Ben was standing in the doorway. His face white, a horror-film death mask, he stared at the two women.
Rose Martin pulled her blow. Put her arm down. Donna lowered the knife. Sat up on her elbows.
‘Ben. Come here… ’
Ben didn’t move.
‘It’s all right,’ said Rose Martin, looking straight at the boy but unable to hold his eyes. ‘I’m a police officer.’
‘Yeah,’ said Donna, gasping for breath. ‘Like that’s gonna reassure him.’
Rose sighed, looked at her. Donna looked back. The fight gone from the pair of them. A numb kind of embarrassment replacing it.
Rose looked at the knife. ‘I think you’d better give that to me.’
Donna glanced at it, then at Rose. Reluctantly handed it over. Rose pocketed it. Gripped the edge of the bed, tried to stand.
‘Want a hand?’
Donna was trying to get up too.
‘I’ll manage.’
The two women got painfully to their feet. Stood looking at each other.
Donna’s first thought was to run, but she tamped it down. Yes, she had been about to attack a police officer with a knife. Yes, she had shattered her ribs. But that police officer had broken into her house and seriously assaulted her. So she imagined she wasn’t going down for this. And judging by the look on Rose Martin’s face, she was thinking something similar.
Donna looked at Ben. ‘Go an’ put the kettle on. There’s a love.’
The boy, still unblinking, disappeared from the bedroom.
The two women looked at each other.
‘You set me up,’ said Rose Martin.
‘Sorry,’ said Donna. ‘I had to get away. As soon as I knew somethin’ bad had happened to Faith, just like she said it would, I knew I had to run.’
Rose frowned. ‘What d’you mean, just like she said it would?’
‘She said that if something happened to her, if she died mysteriously, I was to take Ben and run. Because he’d be next. And then me.’
Rose looked like she wanted to believe her, but seemed to have some way to go first. ‘So why are you back here?’
Donna shrugged, attempted nonchalance. Failed. ‘Forgot somethin’.’
‘What?’
She hesitated. And Rose was on her.
‘I said what?’
Donna sighed. No point in lying now. ‘Faith left a book. A diary. Tellin’ everythin’ about who was after her, what had happened. She said it would be worth somethin’ to the right people.’
‘So where is it?’
Donna shrugged again. ‘Dunno.’
‘You haven’t found it?’
‘Not yet.’
Rose Martin smiled. ‘Then I think we’ll look for it together, don’t you?’
Donna knew she had no choice. She nodded.
The two women, their bodies aching, their anger spent on each other, began the search.
64
The Gardener was out again. And it felt good. No, better than that. It felt right.
He had waited until the policeman had gone, then made his appearance. Because he had work to do.
Oh yes.
And he was looking forward to it.
The sacrifice was being returned to him. All he had to do was go and pick it up.
He walked to the stretch of road, waited in the agreed place. Up the hill by the park. Under a tree. No one would speak to him, or even look at him. He was a non-person. Just like Paul was. But the Gardener didn’t mind that. In fact, he liked it. Fed on the energy of it. People ignored him. But he was more powerful than any of them realised. He was only letting them live as they walked past because it was too much trouble to kill them. He had the power of life and death over all of them.
If only they knew it.
Today was going to be special. The sacrifice would be returned and the ceremony could begin. And the future of the Garden would be assured.
