Jordanna was used to her granny’s spotless home and the cloying aromas of bleach, furniture polish and freshly cooked food simmering on the stove. So the dirtiness of her mother’s flat and the absence of baths or even washes, made her feel dirty and unkempt. She was not used to the stickiness of her own sweat any more, nor the sweet smell of her brother’s unchanged nappy. He was not even offered the opportunity to use a potty or the toilet. Imelda had no bother with such things. Like she had no bother with proper meals, they had to eat as and when food was available, and Jordanna had to keep in the forefront of her mind that whatever they were given might have to last them for days.
Jordanna had thick blond and lustrous hair that hung down her back like a curtain. She was used to it being brushed until it shone like spun gold, her granny loved it and said it was her crowning glory. Jordanna loved having her hair brushed by her granny, the action itself had proved to her that there was love involved. Jordanna also knew that her hair was really beautiful, was very unusual. People had been remarking on her locks since she could remember.
Yet here, at her mother’s, it was tied up and left until she was once more relegated to her granny’s house. She was always scratching her head when she stayed here, she felt cooty, as if something was crawling under her skin. She knew, even at her young age, that it was only because she hated being there and hated feeling dirty. As she watched TV with her little brother, she was listening with a growing nervousness to the argument that was erupting in the kitchen.
Jed was angry, but he was always angry about something lately. As young as she was, Jordanna knew that Jed’s expectations where Imelda was concerned were so off the wall they were just about impossible. She was never going to be mother of the year, she found it hard to even talk to her kids for more than a few minutes at a time. Even then she was only interested in getting them to say something to Jed that she thought was hilarious. She got poor Kenny to swear, to sing dirty songs for her. She just wanted them to repeat things parrot fashion and, in doing so, she was entertained for a few moments but, more to the point, Jed was being entertained. Imelda felt that Jed’s interest in the kids was all that was needed to keep him interested in her.
He was sometimes a bit too interested in her, and Jordanna knew that her mother was more than aware of this. He would take her into the bedroom, and when it was over Imelda would give her sweets, and then at some point an argument would start and the episode would be forgotten about. She knew her mother felt jealousy at times when she was getting too much attention from Jed. Attention she didn’t want, had never asked for. Jordanna knew that her granny didn’t like them coming here so often, but was powerless to do anything about it. She kept quiet about Jed, as she did about everything else. It made life much easier for all concerned. Her mother had the edge where their futures were concerned. Imelda knew how to play the game, and she played it without any conscience, or care for her children’s welfare.
Jordanna had already found out how important money and power were in her mother’s world. She understood just how hard it was without any kind of real money, without anyone in the world to see that you were treated fairly, with decency, with respect. If you had nothing to use as leverage, then you were destined to spend your life doing what other people wanted. Jordanna knew how the world she inhabited worked, and she hated it. But she accepted the inevitable, telling herself that one day she would be grown, and then she would be in charge of her own life, her own destiny. Until then, she had to look out for her brother, and see that he was cared for. Her granny had to swallow her real feelings for her daughter too, and she had to wave her grandchildren off as if she was thrilled at their golden opportunity to be in their mother’s care once again. She had to let them go to someone she knew was not fit to look after a dog, let alone two young children.
Kenny was restless, and lying with his head in her lap, he watched the film with bright eyes. It was very late and the film was about aliens who had come to earth and were now killing everyone they could lay their hands on. It was violent and bloody.
Jordanna didn’t like it very much, but Kenny Boy was flushed with excitement; between the overload of sweets and fizzy drinks and the violence on the TV screen, he was where he loved to be. Up late, and without any boundaries or guidelines whatsoever. Jordanna was stroking his hair, trying to calm him down, knowing that until he dropped off to sleep she couldn’t drop off herself. She would not allow him to be let loose in this flat without her to watch over him. He was too young, and he was also much too reckless. He had inherited his mother’s disregard for rules or regulations of any kind. Like her, he felt that if he wanted to do something, anything, then that was his prerogative. He had the same selfish streak that Imelda had, only with little Kenny it was overlooked because he was a child. But Jordanna knew that it was not something he would ever grow out of, despite what her granny seemed to believe would one day be the case. Kenny was ruined already, had been since his birth. He was his mother’s son but, unlike her, he had the ability to love back when it suited him.
As Jordanna heard the argument reaching its crescendo, heard the cursing and the viciousness of her mother’s mouth, she turned the volume up a little more, trying to blot out the car crash that was her mother’s life. But the voices were still audible, and still had the strident angriness that seemed to be the norm in this household.
Mary was like a ship without a rudder. She sat in her pristine home alone and wondered, as always, if the kids were all right without her to take care of them. That they were with their mother was not something she felt easy about; in fact, it was what was worrying her so much. Imelda was not what could be classed as a person in possession of maternal instincts. As she poured herself out yet another whisky and dry ginger, she told herself to relax and stop worrying so much. She reminded herself that Jordanna was there, and she would make sure that they were both safe. What she meant was that Kenny Boy would be safe with his sister to watch over him.
She knew that relying on a child of only four years old was wrong, but she really didn’t know what else to do. If she brought in the authorities, she could lose the kids for ever. She knew that Imelda was capable of putting Jordanna up for adoption if the fancy took her. She would do it as well, just to prove a point. And, as she had the law on her side, Mary knew she had to keep her daughter sweet. She was stuck, as always, between a rock and a very hard place.
As Mary heard the loud knocking on her front door she assumed that it was Imelda bringing the kids back because they were getting on her nerves. So Mary plastered a wide smile on her face and opened the front door expecting to see her daughter’s usual dark countenance. Instead, she was confronted by a very worried-looking and agitated Michael Hannon.
‘Are the kids here, Mary?’
Michael was already inside the house, looking around him as if expecting the children to leap out of their hiding places in front of his eyes.
‘No, they are with their mother, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’
Mary was already uptight as it was, she knew that Michael Hannon’s arrival this late at night, out of the blue, could only herald bad news for her grandchildren. The fear was taking over now and she was finding it hard to breathe. She felt the terror that her daughter’s lifestyle could bring in an instant. ‘What has she done now? Tell me what’s happened!’
Michael looked at the woman he had come to love as if she was his own flesh and blood and he said sadly, ‘Mel has upset a lot of people again, heavy-duty people. But they have swallowed because of you, and because of me, and out of respect for her father and what he stood for. But now she has really crossed the line, Mary. Basil is going to fucking open her up, he’s going to wipe her off the face of the earth.’
Mary was staring at Michael as if she had never seen him before in her life and had come home to find him naked in her bath, drinking her Scotch while listening to her Connie Francis LPs. It was not to be believed, yet she knew he was on the up and up. Michael Hannon would not lie to her.
‘Did you say Basil? That Basil is going to open Imelda up? Are you off your fucking game? Imelda could wipe the floor with him with one hand tied behind her back.’
Michael nodded. ‘Yeah, that is what everyone seems to think, Mary, only he ain’t as big a mug as people tend to think. He has a much bigger stake in the world than he lets on. Also, he is now in cahoots with Jimmy Bailey and the Driscolls. Mary, Basil has got to teach Imelda a lesson, it’s a matter of pride now as well as everything else.’
Mary was half-pissed and wondering what had caused Michael Hannon to come to her home accusing all and sundry. ‘Come and have a drink. You have it all wrong, Basil wouldn’t hurt Mel. You know he is one of the good guys, he is a blinder.’
Michael was not in the mood for a government white paper on his news, he was only interested in making this woman understand the seriousness of what he was trying tell her. He pushed her in the chest, none too gently, his anger taking over.
‘She’s been running a fucking nonce-fest with that Jed by all accounts, Mary. They have been delivering young girls all over the Smoke and, as if that ain’t enough, they have been using Basil’s name to collect the earn. She has been using girls as young as twelve, Mary. Basil is like the Antichrist, I have never seen him so fucking worked up before. He is on his way over to hers now. He has the blessing of everyone; he is in the big time and no one realised that, especially not Imelda, by the sounds of it.’
Mary was shaking her head in denial, even Imelda was not capable of doing something like that. It was a misunderstanding, it had to be. If it was true, what was happening to her grandchildren?
‘You are wrong. Imelda has her faults, and they are legion, I know that better than anyone. But she would never be involved in anything like that. No way . . .’
‘Oh, Mary. She is scum, you know that. She is capable of anything, and as for this latest fucking debacle, I heard it from the horse’s mouth. She is using everyone around her, as always. Well, I have given her the benefit of the doubt in the past, but not any more.’
Mary was shocked into silence. But a voice inside her head was screaming over and over. It was Jed who wanted the kids there. Jed who insisted that her daughter have the kids overnight. Jed who had convinced her that Imelda was only ever going to learn to love and care for her kids if she spent time with them. It was Jed who was to blame, it had to be.
Mary felt physically sick at what she knew was going to turn out to be the truth, no matter how much she hoped that it wouldn’t. She knew that Hannon would not have come near her unless he had been convinced that what he had been told was gospel.
Jed was rolling a joint and Led Zeppelin was pounding out ‘Black Dog’ on the stereo as Jordanna tried to shout over the noise. It was deafening, and it was the norm for her and her brother. They were expected to sleep through it all, were expected to be immune to the racket. She actually liked Led Zeppelin, she only wished her mother and Jed did not feel that it was only relevant if it was played as loud as possible. She knew that this racket would go on for hours now. But she needed to attract their attention, and she knew it was not going to be easy.
Her mother was burning a spoonful of skag, and Jordanna knew she would not listen to her now even if she happened to be accompanied by the Holy Trinity. The hammering on the front door continued as Jordanna tried to attract the attention of her mother, or at least the attention of her mother’s lover. The people trying to gain access to the house were now shouting through the letter box, and she could hear the annoyance in their voices even if she could not understand what they were saying.
She shouted once more as loudly as she could, ‘There’s someone at the door.’ But the music was so loud, and so heavy, her little voice was completely lost. She could not compete with electric guitars and Robert Plant. Jordanna knew she was fighting a losing battle so she decided to answer the door herself. She assumed it was one of their friends, assumed it was another junkie who would flake out with her mum on the sofa, all smiles and silence. Or it could be a drinker who had nowhere to go, a pisshead who would eventually flake out with Jed. That was something Jordanna had sussed out a long time ago. No one came here through choice, it was the last resort for most people, the only place where they could be guaranteed some kind of welcome and, even then, that welcome depended on what they had brought with them. Jordanna knew her mother would want to see the people who had arrived in the middle of the night, would welcome them with open arms. And if she didn’t answer the door her mother would accuse her of being lazy, of being a vindictive little bitch.
So Jordanna knew that answering the front door was her best bet and she did just that.
She was knocked off her feet by the three burly men who burst inside the small hallway, followed by a seriously irate Basil. Jordanna had only opened the door a fraction and, when it was slammed against the wall she found herself lying in the bedroom doorway, winded and frightened at what she might have caused by her actions.
She recognised Basil and wondered why he didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. He had always said hello to her in the past but tonight he was not even looking in her direction; it was as if she was invisible.
He had three men with him, two huge black men with shaved heads and expensive leather jackets and a heavy-set white guy with a baseball bat, a really bad perm, and a mouth full of gold teeth, and they were already making their way into the front room.
Jordanna knew aggravation when she saw it. She had seen enough of it in her short but eventful life. She knew that she had done a wrong one, and that it would probably cost her dearly in the long run.