Jessie Keane: Jail Bird

Lily thought miserably, That is exactly what I’ve done here. I’ve ruined Saz’s day, she’ll never forgive me now.

Not that there had been much chance of that anyway. But she had to try, didn’t she? Even if she’d got off to a disastrous start. Supposing she got the chance, after this?

Her eyes searched the crowds. She still couldn’t see Si. That was worrying. That was frightening.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said loudly, the words half choked with tears. ‘I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.’

And she turned and limped off, feeling their eyes boring into her back, feeling their hatred, feeling like shit.

‘So…how’d it go?’ asked Becks.

Lily looked up from the kitchen table and gave her friend a mirthless smile.

‘How does it look? ’ she asked bitterly. She had come back dirt-smeared, limping, sobbing her heart out. Talk about stupid questions! Seeing Becks’s recoil of hurt, she added: ‘Sorry.’

Lily dragged her hands over her head, rubbed at her tired, teary eyes. ‘Sorry, Becks. I shouldn’t take it out on you. It was a fucking disaster. And I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your bloody shoes too. I’ve ruined everything.’

Becks sat down opposite. She reached out and patted Lily’s hand. ‘Bugger the shoes,’ she said, unwrapping a new pack of gum. She popped it in her mouth. ‘Don’t matter a bit. They were only cheapies. But I told you you shouldn’t have gone.’

‘Oh, thanks a bunch for that, Becks,’ snarled Lily. Then she shook her hands in front of her face, clutched at her head. ‘Sorry, Becks. I’m sorry. I just had to see her, today of all days…Jesus, Becks, my own daughter’s wedding and I didn’t even know the damned thing was happening, how do you think that made me feel? Like a fucking reject, that’s how. Which is what I am. I’m a bloody pariah. They looked at me…shit, they all looked at me like I was unhinged. Like I was going to cut their throats or something. And the girls. My girls…’ Lily’s voice trailed away. She shook her head. She couldn’t even get the words out.

‘Did…Si King see you there?’ asked Becks cautiously.

Lily looked up at her friend’s face. ‘Yeah,’ she said, fighting back more tears. ‘Oh yeah, he saw me. And Freddy too.’

‘Shit,’ said Becks, her chewing going into overdrive. ‘You gotta watch them two, Lily. You’ve got to be more careful.’

‘Why?’ Lily gave a mad laugh. ‘I ain’t done anything! And even if I had, I done the time for it. I done someone else’s time, Becks. Not mine. Someone else’s. Do you think that’s right?’

Becks shook her head.

‘No. Well neither do I.’

‘But Lily,’ Becks’s voice was tentative, her expression uneasy, ‘what can you do about it? It’s all too late now. It’s done. And you know what I think? I really think the best thing you can do is…take off somewhere. Just go away. Somewhere new. Start again, make a new life for yourself.’

Lily looked at Becks in surprise. ‘What?’ she said at last. ‘Just…go away? Forget my girls? Forget that some arsehole fitted me up for all this? You ain’t serious.’

‘I am,’ said Becks, leaning forward and stabbing the table with a French-manicured fingernail to emphasize her point. ‘I’m completely serious, Lils. If you stay around here…what will you do? How will you live?’

‘I’ve got plans,’ said Lily stubbornly.

‘Lils, listen to me for the love of God. The Kings got it in for you. You know that. It’s only a matter of time before they make their move, and…’ Becks’s voice faded. She stared at the table.

‘And what?’ prompted Lily.

‘And…look, I’m sorry, Lils, but Joe…he’s not happy about any of this. He don’t want trouble with the King brothers. Who’d want that? You’d have to be mental to upset that pair.’

Lily was staring at Becks’s face. Her eyes were still averted, avoiding contact with Lily’s own. ‘So what are you saying, Becks?’ she asked, but she knew, she knew what was coming.

‘Joe thinks, I mean, we think, that…oh fuck it all, Lily, we don’t think you should stay here any more. I’m sorry.’

Lily’s face was a mask now, hiding her hurt, hiding her shock. This was Becks, after all. Her best friend in all the world.

‘They’ve talked to Joe, have they?’ she asked, and her voice sounded small, strained – not her own.

Joe was on the firm: everyone in their circle was on the firm. Antagonizing the Kings was not a sensible option.

Becks said nothing. She nodded. Lily saw it then, in Becks’s eyes – the fear. She didn’t mind helping Lily, but there was a line and Lily had crossed it. It was all very well to help a mate in trouble, but when that help put you in bother with the Kings, then you had to say, enough.

‘I don’t mind if you want to tell the probation people you’re still staying here,’ said Becks hurriedly. ‘I talked to Joe about it – he don’t mind doing that much. We’ll cover for you, if you want.’

‘Right,’ said Lily. ‘Yeah. Okay. Thanks for that. I’ve got an appointment to see her here next week…’

‘No probs. You show up, I’ll be here, it’ll be cool.’

‘Right.’

The perfect end to a perfect day. Her daughters hated her guts and now Becks was turfing her out the door. Lily was dry-eyed now, numb with the shock of it all.

The doorbell rang.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Becks, glad of the interruption. Lily could see the relief etched on her face as she bolted from the kitchen and along the hall. She heard Becks talking to someone, a man’s voice, light and husky. For a moment her heart leapt into her throat and she thought: Si King, oh God help me, or is it that lunatic Freddy?

Becks came back into the kitchen. She didn’t bring the Kings with her. Lily, pale-faced and wretched, looked up at her. Becks’s expression was awkward, her glance slipping away from Lily’s.

‘It’s the private detective bloke,’ she said. ‘The one you phoned.’

Lily had forgotten she’d made this appointment. She’d forgotten everything, in the excitement of getting to the church to be humiliated, rejected. An image of Saz’s white, horrified face came into her brain again and she squeezed her eyes shut to block it out. The pain was awful.

She opened her eyes and stood up. She was still wearing the cream linen; it was creased to hell now. She hadn’t even had a wash since she’d got in, she’d been too shocked, too hurt. She scuffed on her trainers and left the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. She went along the hall to speak to Jack Rackland, who she hoped could work miracles. Somehow, she doubted it.

He wasn’t what she had expected. Actually she didn’t know what she had expected, some seedy old weasel of a bloke with thin hair, a raincoat and a dewdrop hanging off the end of his nose maybe, but the man who stood at the door in no way matched that description. He looked to be about thirty-five, and he was bulky but not fat, medium height, neatly turned out in a well-fitted suit, shirt and tie. He had a good head of straight dirty-blond hair, a tanned intelligent face and very direct heavy-lidded light blue eyes. He was a good-looking man, and that surprised her. Not a weasel at all.

And here I am looking like shit, thought Lily, embarrassed.

‘Mrs King?’

‘Yeah, that’s me.’ Lily made an awkward gesture back at the kitchen. ‘Look, we’d better walk, my friend’s busy…’

She didn’t want to take him in the house, not after what Becks had said. She had some pride left – not much, admittedly – and she wasn’t about to infringe on Becks’s territory when it had just been made clear that she wasn’t welcome there any more.