Human Conditioning (47 page)

Sitting beside Gina, he took
her arm and checked her wrist for a pulse. It was slow but he didn’t think
anything of it. She was obviously off her face.

Two hours later, Aiden was watching an episode of
Bottom
on BBC2 in Gina’s living room. He didn’t have much time for television, but the
two characters, Richie and Eddie, were quite amusing to him. He couldn’t
contain his laughter when Richie started beating Eddie up with a frying pan.

Gina awoke to the sound of
Aiden’s laughter. She recognised it immediately, but it wasn’t a sound she had
heard in a very long time. It lit up her heart to hear it now. Aiden was there!
She attempted to spring out of bed, but her aching body resisted. Her mind was in
a fuzz, and she felt sore between the thighs. But then, that was no different
to any other day.

Slowly, she pulled herself up
and noticed that her clothes were torn. That bastard Bailey! She remembered his
hard hands and thick fingers clawing at her flesh. He was a frequent user of
the flats, though he’d only seen her a few times. He had been a last-minute
arrangement because one of his regulars had been taken to hospital having
dropped a pan of boiling water over herself – or so her minder had said. Whether
it was an accident or an assault, none of them would ever know.

When Michael Bailey had
arrived earlier that evening, she had been out of it. It was supposed to have
been her day off. He hadn’t been at all impressed by the state of her. She was
barely conscious when he had arrived, and she assumed she had finally passed
out on him because there was no money on the bedside table.

Descending the stairs, dressed
in her dressing gown, she peeped through the banister to see Aiden lying
comfortably on her couch, one arm resting under his head, the other hanging
over the side of the couch with a smoking cigarette between his fingers. He was
focused on the television and laughed sporadically as the comedy
played
out in front of him.

Her heart swelled, and a warm
affection settled in the pit of her empty stomach as she watched the man she
loved acting so carefree and happy. She took a moment to enjoy the view,
revelling in the fact that he was there and Bailey was not. She wondered if
Aiden had seen to Bailey and at what stage of the evening he had done so. She
didn’t want to imagine that Aiden had walked in on them having sex, so she
banished the thought and savoured the scene before her a little longer before
she descended the stairs entirely.

“Aiden,” she murmured as she
reached the bottom step.

Aiden turned, and when he saw
her he sat up and switched off the television with the remote control at his
side. Stubbing out his cigarette in one of the three ashtrays on the coffee
table, he stood up and stepped over to her. Taking the tops of her arms, he
squeezed her gently. “Are you alright?” he asked, searching her face.

She nodded and smiled shyly.
“Did you meet Bailey?”

“That prick that was with you
whilst you were passed out on the bed?” he asked reproachfully, and she wasn’t
sure whether he was angry at Bailey for taking advantage, or at her for having
passed out.

“It was supposed to be my day
off,” she explained, in case it was the latter. Aiden nodded. “What did you do
to him?” she asked.

“I knocked the cunt out,” he
replied.

She smiled wearily. “Where is
he now?”

“He came round about an hour
ago. I politely asked him to leave.”

Aiden was all hostility
regarding Bailey, and this made Gina smile all the more. He was angry because
somebody had hurt her. That had to mean that he cared for her. “I’ve missed
you,” she announced. “It’s been months...”

Aiden settled back on the
couch. Taking a cigarette out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he lit
it up and inhaled deeply. “Three fucking months to be exact,” he replied on his
exhale. “Fucking Old Bill must have been tipped off... so much for protection.”

Gina stared at him, but didn’t
offer any suggestions. She had wondered often, over the past few months,
whether her conversation with Lily may have sparked off the investigation. It
was certainly a coincidence that the flats should be put under surveillance
right after Lily had arrived on her white fucking horse. But she would keep her
suspicions to herself. Aiden must never know that she had talked to his wife. Whether
or not he cared for her, such news would put the nail in her coffin for sure. 

Suddenly, Gina stumbled and
she had to grip onto the banister to stay upright. Aiden instinctively jumped
up to help her. Taking her chin, he lifted her face. “You alright?” he asked,
staring with concern into her eyes.

“I’m fine, just a little
tired,” she replied, but she avoided eye contact.

Aiden continued to survey her,
frowning with concern. Her eyes were glazed and dull, her pupils constricted.
Her body looked as if it was struggling to hold her weight, yet she was
skinnier than ever, her face drawn and emaciated. When he had taken her arms
before, they had reminded him of Kate’s skinny arms when she had been a child –
the original reason for him nicknaming her ‘Bone’.

Gina coughed suddenly, causing
Aiden to step back out of the firing line of the spittle that spewed out from
her mouth. She put a hand over to stifle the urge to cough again and managed to
choke the word ‘sorry’ before she fell into a coughing fit.

Aiden watched with wide eyes
as she keeled over, her knees hitting the floor with a loud thud, her hands
supporting her body as she dropped onto all fours and began choking up violent
coughs from the pit of her stomach. “Are you going to be sick?” he asked in a
fluster. Gina responded with a shake of her head but, suddenly, she
projectile-vomited all over the carpet. Convulsing on all fours, she couldn’t
stop retching as the little solid she had in her stomach evacuated her body and
she was left with yellow bile that hung from her lips and burned the back of
her throat. “Have you been drinking?” Aiden asked, not quite knowing what to do
or say.

She shook her head again. Soon
the retching subsided and she was able to whisper, “I need a flannel. Can you
get me one from the bathroom, please?” Aiden took the stairs and was back in
seconds with a flannel that he had run under the cold tap. He took her arm and
helped her to rise. When she was on two feet, he gave her the flannel and
escorted her over to the couch. She sat and wiped her face clean. “I’m sorry,”
she announced after a strained silence. “Are you sick?” Aiden looked genuinely
worried.

She felt like rolling her
eyes. It was obvious that she was sick, but the bewildered concern on his face
made her heart melt. “Must’ve been something I ate,” she replied. But she was
lying. She had been suffering with the same coughing fits for weeks now. Sometimes
the coughing made her sick, but sometimes it was just a cough. She was pretty
sure she had a chest infection. Her father had had a chest infection once, and
it had given him the same fits of coughing, chest pain, shortness of breath and
the shakes, all of which she had experienced for several weeks.

“I have doctors, G. You should
have told me you weren’t well.”

“You haven’t exactly been
around for me to ask...”

Aiden nodded. “I know. Do you
want me to contact Dr Crow?”

“Will it stop you worrying?”
she smiled timidly.

“Yes.”

“OK.”

Aiden looked awkward all of a
sudden. “I need you to look after yourself,” he said, and she got the
impression that he was saying this with some ulterior motive in mind.
What
did he want of her now?
“I’m not going to be around much,” he added, and
his eyes found hers.

Gina gulped. “What do you
mean?”

He ran a hand over his face
and he seemed to have given himself an internal reprimand because his
expression hardened suddenly, his eyes all of a sudden devoid of emotion. He took
a deep breath and replied, “What I mean is, I can’t come here anymore, not
after the place has been put under surveillance. I’m stepping down and will be
a sleeping partner from now on.” He paused, gauging Gina’s reaction. She just
sat staring up at him, totally speechless and befuddled. He hesitated then said
plainly, “Gina, from today, you’re on your own.”

Gina dropped her head, and
suddenly her whole body began to convulse as her hysterical sobbing began. Sobs
soon turned into deep moans as if she was in pain. The coughing started once
more, then she wailed, and Aiden had no idea how to comfort her. He didn’t want
to. It was hard enough informing her that he would never see her again. If he
comforted her now, he may fall victim to his own compassion and take back his
words.

It was imperative that he step
back, and lay low. The police may not have found anything on him this time
round, but he was on their radar now and so couldn’t keep returning to the
flats. He was taking a big enough risk as it was being there tonight. It was
all about self-preservation. He couldn’t put his freedom at risk. He had a
family. What would they do without him?

Gina subsequently spiralled
deeper into the greatest depths of her despair. Her delirium had engaged her
for almost an hour and when her sobs finally subsided, she found herself in a
daze, confused and alone. She hadn’t seen him go, but Aiden was no longer with
her, and, this time, she knew she would never see him again.

She was on her own.

October 1991

“Ma'am, can I have a word? It’s urgent.”

Inspector Lemmington peered
around the door to Detective Inspector Summers’s office inside New Scotland
Yard. Lemmington was a tall, well-built officer of twenty-nine years, with
mousy brown hair and brown eyes. He was quite the jack-the-lad amongst his male
counterparts, but he’d learned within the two years he’d worked under Detective
Inspector Anne Summers that he would have to respect the opposite sex if he
were to keep his job.

Anne was on the phone and was
surprised Lemmington was still in the office, as it had gone midnight. “Hold,
please...” she instructed down the receiver. Then, rather hurriedly, trying her
best not to be rude, she said, “Yes, Simon, what is it?”  

“We’ve received a tip-off, ma’am...
on a drug factory just outside of Wiltshire.”

Anne’s blonde eyebrows
furrowed. “Well, can’t the matter be dealt with by the local police?”

Lemmington replied, nodding
his head with zeal, “It’s a big one, ma’am.”

He looked earnest enough, and
considering it was rare to see Lemmington so motivated, she believed him. “OK,
take a seat,” she instructed, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her
desk. Then down the phone receiver, she said, “Something has come up, Adrian.
Thanks for staying on. You can go home now. Can I just have the report by
tomorrow afternoon? Good. OK. Bye.” She hung up and stared at Lemmington. “Go
on.”

“Major operation, ma’am... all
kinds of class As, and safe houses here in London, and apparently, the one in
charge is our man, Frankie Adams... and another name... an Aiden Foster...
originally from Hackney apparently... now lives –”

“Aiden Foster?” Anne
interrupted, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, you know of him?”

She gulped and added swiftly,
“Frankie’s been off our list for over a year now... and the tip-off?”

“Anonymous. We couldn’t trace
the call... but it’s worth investigating, isn’t it?”

Lemmington was begging for
this. She knew this would be right up his street. Frankie Adams had been one of
the first assignments he had been involved in when he had started at the Met.
Frankie had been under investigation for drug-smuggling and distribution, but
they hadn’t been able to get enough substantial evidence to hold him, so they
had eventually dropped the case despite the fact that they all knew he was
guilty.

She couldn’t believe Aiden had
been named as a possible suspect. It had to be the same Aiden she knew, her
son-in-law. How many other Aiden Fosters could there be in Hackney? She
couldn’t understand it. Whatever she and her husband thought of him, he was
clean. She knew. She had looked, after Lily had announced their engagement. He
did have a file, but it had nothing on it apart from some petty crimes he’d
owned up to when he had been a kid.

She shook her head in dismay
and Lemmington raised his eyebrows. “Something wrong, ma’am?”

“No,” she replied, and sighed.
“OK... take Mitchell with you to this factory tomorrow. I assume you received
an address?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Right, sniff around and
report back to me before 5:30pm tomorrow evening.
Do not
under any
circumstances approach anyone or be seen, and
do not
spend time going
over any of these men’s files. I will do that
if
, and only if, you find
something of suspicion.” Lemmington nodded once to confirm his understanding,
jumped out of his seat and headed for the door. “And Simon...” Anne called.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“We get tip-offs all the time.
I am not giving you permission to make assertions...”

He made a salute and said,
“Innocent until proven guilty, ma’am! Am I OK to go home now?”

“Yes. I didn’t realise you
were still here...” she replied distractedly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then!”
Lemmington added, and turning on the heels of his boots, he walked briskly from
the office. 

As Lemmington whipped his
leather jacket up from the back of his chair at his desk and made to leave, he
wondered how long it would be before DI Summers found out that most of Scotland
Yard were already aware that Aiden Foster was her son-in-law, that half of her
workforce was on his payroll, and that everyone kept schtum about him because
of that fact. He also wanted nothing more than for this tip-off to be true,
because the quicker Aiden was sent down, the quicker the depletion of the bent
coppers he had to work with on a daily basis.