Read Snatched Online

Authors: Unknown

Snatched (41 page)

BOOK: Snatched
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Doing as he was told, Connor went and sat down on the couch. Seconds later, his mum popped her head around the door.
Seeing the two of them sitting in companionable silence, Sue smiled, and said, ‘Hi, sweetheart. I’m home.’ Then, to Jack, ‘Hello, Mr Miller. Hope he’s not been any trouble?’
‘None whatsoever,’ Jack told her, flipping a surreptitious wink at Connor. ‘We’ve just been watching the wrestling – haven’t we, son?’
Smiling again when Connor quickly nodded – without looking at her, she noticed – Sue said, ‘Well, thanks again for watching him. I really appreciate it.’ Then, ‘Best put the shopping away. Oh, and I was going to make spaghetti bolognaise for dinner, if you’d like some?’
Telling her not to worry about him, that he’d see to himself, Jack eased himself up out of his chair. Glancing at Connor when Sue went into the kitchen, he whispered, ‘Did you have a good time out there?’
Connor couldn’t tell him what had happened. He couldn’t tell anybody, because they’d think he was stupid. But he was grateful that Mr Miller had let him go out, and that he’d covered for him just now. So, giving him a tiny smile, he nodded.
Touched, because it was the first time the child had ever smiled at him, Jack said, ‘Well, it looks like it’s done you a world of good. So, any time you want to do it again, you just let me know and I’ll make sure they don’t find out. Okay?’
Nodding again, Connor watched as the old man walked slowly out. Listening as Jack climbed the stairs and went into his bedroom directly above, he sighed. Mr Miller had sounded sad just now, and that wasn’t good, because Connor was starting to quite like him. He was a bit like Pauline Wilson. Old, and always asking questions, but not pushy about it, not like the other people who got annoyed when they talked to him and he didn’t answer. Pauline and Mr Miller had nice eyes. At least they did when they looked at
him
, although Connor had seen Pauline look at his mum with bad eyes before they’d made friends, and he’d seen Mr Miller giving her a few funny looks as well.
But Connor still wouldn’t try and talk to him – even if he had thought that his voice would work. Because, nice as Mr Miller was, he was still Dave’s dad.
18
Nicky cried herself to sleep. She quite often did these days, because her stomach always seemed to be hurting. And her head. And her eyes.
She felt like a mole, living in a pot of foul-smelling ink, and every now and then the sun would burst through and burn holes right into her brain.
But those moments of blinding brightness were less frequent recently, because he hadn’t been coming so often. In fact, there were times when he didn’t come at all, but she couldn’t be sure how far between they were. All she knew was that she didn’t think she’d eaten in . . . well, she didn’t even know how long. It could have been days, weeks, or even months.
He’d left a big bottle of Lucozade the last time he’d come, so at least she’d had that to sip at. But it wasn’t going to last for too much longer, and she was having to ration herself because she had no idea when he would come again. Or even if he would. And one of these days, she was sure that he would simply forget all about her. Or just get fed up of the mess he’d created and wash his hands of her.
She didn’t usually care, having almost lost the will to keep going. But she felt strange today, because she’d really thought that she had heard Connor crying out. She knew that it was probably just an aural hallucination, a memory that had flashed through with a clarity that had made it feel real, but it had stirred up all the old feelings, nonetheless, and now she was desperately longing to be back at home.
Nicky could see everything so clearly in her mind’s eye; all the furniture, and the curtains, and the smoky haze that always seemed to linger above the room like a dirty net curtain. And she could smell the smoky air, and the scent of the sausages and mash that Connor had always seemed to want for his dinner. She could even smell the distinctive odour of his mattress after a thousand wettings and dryings-out. And none of it was bad; it was all just home. And she wanted to be back there so badly.
But it was never going to happen. She’d already been gone for ever, and if they hadn’t come looking for her yet then they never would. Anyway, after hearing about their party, she could only assume that they had wiped her out of their memories, like people did when they lost a loved one. They’re gone, so you just have to put them out of your head and get on with your own life. That was what people always said when someone died.
And she might as well be dead. She certainly felt like she was.
19
Driving into the city the next afternoon, Dave couldn’t remember if he’d been down to see Nicky the day before. Or even the day before that. He was getting lax, and that wasn’t good. He needed to get food to her regularly, or she was going to get ill and complicate things.
He’d more or less resigned himself to the thought of having to kill her now that it had gone too far, but he needed to be in control of the when and the how of it. It wouldn’t do to have her die in the shed at the bottom of the garden. Not when there was already a bad smell down there, and the water board were slowly working their way up along the canal messing with the drainage pipes. They probably wouldn’t reach the land behind the house for some months yet, but he couldn’t take the chance of having a rotting corpse under their noses if they happened to come to survey the stream or something in the meantime.
So he had to keep her alive for now, and that meant feeding her. But he just hadn’t had much time or opportunity to get down there, not with Sue following him around like a dog all the time.
She’d really thrown herself into the whole relationship thing, and he had to admit that he was kind of enjoying having her in his bed. Although she was surprisingly naive about sex, given her reputation, and he was actually beginning to wonder if she’d had half the men she was supposed to have had. But he was teaching her a few tricks, and she was a pretty fast learner, so it was all good. And it was great that she didn’t move once she was asleep. Unlike Carole, who had kicked the shit out of him every night for years – although he suspected that half the time she hadn’t even been asleep, and had just used it as an excuse to get him back for whatever he’d done to annoy her during the day.
Good old Carole. He couldn’t help but miss the bitch and her vicious mouth. But there was no way he was ever going back there permanently. And, right now, he was keeping her at a firm distance, because he was on a mission and it was more important to pull it off than to keep her sweet. He would just wangle his way back into her bed when it was done. Although she might put up a fiercer fight when she realised
who
he’d shagging behind her back this time.
But she’d find out soon enough. Everyone would. Because Dave was bored of playing Sue’s
let’s-just-wait-a-little-while-longer
game, and was ready to tell the lot of them and get the ball rolling. If Sue was committed, then she wouldn’t give a toss who knew. And that was what Dave was planning to hit her with – as soon as he’d delivered this latest batch of powders.
Pulling up outside Frank Delaney’s house now, he put the plastic bag containing the coke inside his jacket. He only delivered to his big buyers these days, the rest he passed on through his team of lads on the estate. And Frank was one of the biggest, so Dave would always deal with him personally.
Frank was taking five ounces today, and would pay in cash, which made it well worth the risk for Dave to carry it in his car. And he hadn’t been stupid and gone for one of the flashy Beemers that the other dealers splashed out on when they started making serious money; he’d opted for a quality three-litre Jag instead. And the pigs never looked twice at a white man in a Jag, so he was pretty confident that he’d never get pulled for anything avoidable.
Telling Sue that he’d be back in ten minutes, and to beep the horn if there was a problem, he left her in the car and went up the path.
Waiting until he’d gone into the house, Sue slid her mobile out of her pocket and switched it on. Terry had rung earlier in the week asking when he could have Connor again, and she’d fobbed him off, telling him he’d have to wait until today. Then she’d turned her phone off in case he rang again and Dave saw his name on the screen. Checking it now, she saw several missed calls from him, and five messages – which became increasingly terse as he tried to find out what was happening regarding the visit.
There were also three missed calls from Julie, and two messages. The first asking her to ring back; the second telling her that the social services had been round for the past three days running, and had left a note through the door saying that they were becoming concerned about Connor’s welfare and needed to speak to her urgently.
Switching the phone off again, Sue slipped it back into her pocket and gazed out of the window. That wasn’t good. Terry would keep, but the social services wouldn’t. If they were concerned, it meant that she’d been right all along, and they
had
been watching her as closely as they’d been watching Connor. And now they couldn’t reach her, they would probably put him on the ‘at risk’ register, or something. Because that’s what those nosy bastards did when parents of troubled kids took back control of their lives.
Deep in thought, she didn’t notice the two young boys who had just ridden around the corner on their bikes.
Spotting Dave’s car, Ben Greene said, ‘Yo, there’s your dad’s motor. But who’s that sitting in it? It ain’t your mam, is it?’
Using the heel of his trainer as a brake, Fred screeched to a stop and peered across the road into the passenger seat of his dad’s car. Scowling when he saw who it was, he turned his bike around and stood up on the pedals to give himself a good quick start.
‘Wait up!’ Ben called after him, struggling to get his larger bike facing the other way again.
Ignoring him, Fred raced off down the road. Jumping every kerb, and narrowly avoiding being hit by a car, he tossed the bike down on the pavement outside his house and ran inside, yelling, ‘Mam!
MAM!
Me dad’s round at Frank Delaney’s house, and he’s got Sue Day in his car!’
‘You what?’ Carole spat, anger flaring in her eyes as she jumped up from her seat at the kitchen table. ‘Move!’ Shoving past him, she rushed out of the house.
Hot on her heels, Fred jumped back on his bike and raced ahead to make sure that the car was still there while his mum stomped down the road, shoving her sleeves up as she went.
Sensing that it was all about to kick off, Ben Greene pedalled hard to keep up with Fred, waving for some of his friends who were just crossing the road to come and watch the fight.
‘Oi!’ Irene Murgatroyd yelled at him as he rode past her house where she was weeding in the garden. ‘Who’s fighting? Better not be you lot, or I’ll be straight round to see your mothers.’
‘It’s not us, it’s Fred’s mam,’ Ben told her, too excited to be bothered to tell her to piss off, as he would have done usually.
‘Who with?’ she called after him as he rode on.
‘Connor Day’s mam,’ he called back.
Bustling straight round to Pauline’s, Irene pounded on the door with her fist.
‘There’s a fight,’ she squawked when Pauline opened up, already bustling back up the path. ‘Carole and Sue are at it.’
‘Oh, no,’ Pauline groaned, an instant frown on her brow. ‘What on earth’s the matter now?’
‘No idea, but you’d best hurry or you’ll miss it,’ Irene said, flapping her hand at her to get a move on.
Carole had just reached the car. Yanking at the passenger-door handle and finding it locked, she banged her fist on the window.
Jumping, because she’d been in a world of her own, Sue glanced up at her. Blushing guiltily when she saw her, she groaned when she saw hordes of kids and several of her old neighbours barrelling around the corner to see what was going on.
‘Get the fuck out of that car!’ Carole yelled at her through the window. ‘And don’t just sit there looking at me like you’re fucking stupid, ’cos I’ll break the bastard glass and
drag
you out in a minute.’
Sue glanced back at the house to see if Dave was coming out. But he wasn’t. So, taking a deep breath, she pulled the lock up. But before she could open the door, Carole did it for her.
‘You cheeky fucking slag!’ she snarled, grabbing two handfuls of Sue’s hair and tugging her out of her seat. ‘I fucking
knew
something was going on with you two, and you barefaced lied to me!’
‘I didn’t lie,’ Sue yelled back, grabbing at Carole’s hands to prevent her from tearing the hair straight out of her head. ‘And, anyway, it’s got nothing to do with you, ’cos Dave left you. And he’s with me now, so get your stupid hands off me!’
‘What do you mean, he’s with you, you skanky bitch?’ Carole screeched, holding on and pulling Sue around in a circle. ‘He
ain’t
with you!’
Unable to free her hair, Sue kicked Carole hard in the shin. ‘Yes, he is,’ she hissed. ‘And he’s staying with me, so get over it!’
‘Stop it!’ Pauline yelled, reaching them just then. ‘Carole, Sue . . . pack it in before someone gets hurt!’

Hurt
?’ Carole repeated scathingly. ‘I’m gonna do more than fucking hurt her. I’m gonna
kill
her!’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Sue growled, grabbing Carole’s hair now and dragging her head down. But just as she drew her knee back, intending to let Carole have it in the face, two strong arms lifted her up and plonked her down facing the opposite way.
Going for Dave now, clumps of Sue’s hair trailing from her fingers, Carole whacked him across the face, screaming, ‘You bastard! You told me you were just giving her a lift that day, but you weren’t, were you? And it
was
her in the car park at that stupid fun day, wasn’t it?’
BOOK: Snatched
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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