Broke (25 page)

Amy saw the sincerity in his eyes and wished with all her heart that she could take him up on his offer. But it was impossible. Yates would never let her go.

‘I can’t,’ she said quietly. ‘And please don’t come round to the house again. It’s not as bad as you think. Lenny’s usually all right, he just gets a bit jealous if he thinks I’m being too friendly with other men.’

‘But he doesn’t mind you sleeping with them?’ Kelvin said bluntly. ‘As long as he gets the money?’

‘I owe him,’ said Amy. ‘And it’s none of your business.’

Kelvin exhaled loudly and flopped back in his seat. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

‘Fine.’ He shrugged resignedly. ‘Go back, take your chances. Just do me one favour. Take my number, and call me if you ever change your mind.’

‘Okay, if it gets you off my back,’ Amy agreed. ‘Here.’ She jutted her hip out. ‘My phone’s in my pocket. You’ll have to get it, ’cos I can’t use my hand. But put it in a girl’s name.’

‘How about Ella?’

‘Yeah, whatever. Just hurry up.’

In serious pain by the time she got home, Amy rushed into the living room and grabbed her foil. Her heart was racing, and the rush of adrenalin brought on by the shock of Kelvin turning up had made her feel sick. Crying in frustration when she opened the wrap and some tipped out onto the carpet, she fell to her knees and carefully scooped it onto the foil. Her hands were shaking wildly, but she managed to smoke it. Then, sighing as the terrible jumbled thoughts began to drift out of her mind, she lay down on the couch and closed her eyes.

She was fast asleep when Yates strolled in at eleven that night, but she woke with a start when he prodded her sharply in the shoulder.

‘Got something to tell me?’ he asked.

‘No.’ She shook her head.

‘That right?’ He gave her a nasty smile and cracked his knuckles. ‘So, what’s been happening while I’ve been out? Had any visitors? Been anywhere?’

The blood drained from Amy’s face.
Oh, God, he knew
.

‘A m-man called round about d-double glazing,’ she stammered, blurting out the first thing that came into her mind. ‘And I went t-to the shop for some painkillers. But that’s all.’

‘Where are they?’ Yates looked around. ‘The painkillers . . . where are they?’

‘I didn’t get any,’ Amy whispered. ‘I forgot I d-didn’t have any money.’

Yates leaned down and gripped her face in his hand. ‘You’d better not be lying.’

‘I’m not,’ she whimpered.

‘Swear on your kids’ lives.’

‘Lenny, please. My arm’s h-hurting, I can’t think straight.’

‘Swear . . . on . . . your . . . kids’ . . .
lives
,’ he repeated through gritted teeth, his stare boring into her eyes.

Amy’s mouth had gone so dry that it felt like her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. But this was life or death, so, saying a silent prayer to God to forgive her, she forced out the words.

‘I s-swear on the kids’ lives.’

‘Wasn’t so difficult, was it?’ Yates sneered, letting go of her and wiping her tears off his hand. Then, smiling slyly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrap. He dangled it in front of her nose, but snatched it away as soon as she reached for it.

‘Ah, ah, ah . . . not so fast. You’ve already missed a night’s work, so that’s more interest added to your debt. If you want this, you’ll have to earn it.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Amy asked, willing to do just about anything right now.

‘I’m thinking about branching out,’ said Yates. ‘Them broke-arse punters at twenty quid a pop ain’t making a dent, so it’s time we got some proper dosh coming in. I’m thinking of making a film.’

‘A film?’ Amy repeated, the blood running cold in her veins.

‘Yes, a
film
,’ said Yates as if he was talking to a child. ‘One of them things men like your spineless ex wank over. I can put it on the net, and invest in some DVDs to flog around the pubs.’ He laughed as a thought occurred to him. ‘Here, how funny would it be if your old dad got hold of a copy? Be a bit of a shocker, that. Settling down for a nice little tug, and up pops baby girl in all her glory.’

‘No,’ Amy wheezed, shaking her head. ‘Please don’t, Lenny, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything, but not that.’

Yates stared down at her with a sneer of disgust on his lips. ‘I’m way past the stage of giving a fuck what
you
want, sweetheart. That debt of yours is racking up by the minute, and every second you spend on your arse is adding to it. I’m a generous man, but I’ve got my limits – and you’ve reached yours. Now, here . . .’ He tossed the wrap to her. ‘Sort yourself out and start thinking about how you’re gonna make yourself presentable for the camera.’

Amy hugged herself when Yates walked out, but was surprised to hear him climb into his car and drive away instead of going round to Marnie’s. She checked that he’d really gone and then reached for her foil. She tipped some of the powder out of the wrap onto it, but instead of lighting up she sat and stared at it through her tears.

She didn’t want this any more. The smack numbed the pain, but it wasn’t taking away the cause of that pain. That was always there, gnawing away at the edge of her consciousness, and it was only going to get worse. And if it wasn’t bad enough that Yates had forced her to sleep with strangers, he was now going to expose her to hundreds, maybe even thousands of men. That was an unbearable thought, and she knew that she couldn’t allow it to happen.

Hand shaking, vision completely blurred, she screwed the foil into a ball and reached for her phone.

Yates hadn’t gone far, and he was already on his way back as Amy made her call. Marnie had rung him earlier and told him about Amy’s afternoon caller and her subsequent trip out. But if that had pissed him off, her next bit of news had cheered him right back up again.

She was pregnant.

He was going to be a daddy.

It was a day he’d thought would never come, and he couldn’t have been happier, because the thought of a little Lenny running around town, a little mini-me that he could mould in his own image, thrilled him. Mates were all well and good, but blood was the thing upon which truly great empires were built. And the blood bond between a father and his son was the strongest, most invincible bond of all.

Marnie was in town right now at a girls-only karaoke party in a backstreet bar. She’d said she would be back by two and, intending to surprise her with a special little celebratory party, Yates had just nipped over to the Moss to pick up his supplies: three grams of coke, a few bottles of fizzy stuff, and a bunch of flowers.

As he turned the corner now, he spotted the light going on in Amy’s bedroom and narrowed his eyes. He’d just given her a gram of smack, so she ought to be completely gouched out, not moving about upstairs. And she was moving pretty damn fast, he noticed as he watched her silhouette shifting from one side of the room to the other as he neared the house.

Suspicious, he carried on driving and parked up in a dark spot on the neighbouring estate. Then, pulling his hood up, he climbed into the field at the back of Amy’s house. It was months since he’d had to sneak in the back way, but the bitch looked like she was up to something and he wanted to catch her unawares.

Unable to reach Kelvin on the phone, Amy had run upstairs to pack some things. She hadn’t really thought it through, she just wanted to get out of there before Yates came back. But as she stepped out onto the landing, he appeared at the foot of the stairs.

‘Going somewhere?’ he asked, walking slowly up.

‘No!’ She took a step back. ‘I’m – I’m just putting some rubbish out.’

Yates snatched the bag when he reached her and tipped out the contents. Her toothbrush, a bra, and a couple of pairs of knickers fell out, along with a rolled-up pair of jeans, a crumpled sweatshirt, and her empty purse.

‘Rubbish, eh?’ Yates kicked the stuff aside and advanced towards her again.

‘I can’t do a film,’ Amy squealed, holding her undamaged hand out in front of her as she backed into the bedroom. ‘I’m sorry, Lenny, I just can’t. It would kill my mum.’

‘Your mum doesn’t give a flying
fuck
about you,’ Yates snarled, lashing her across her face and knocking her onto the bed. ‘
No
one does – haven’t you got that yet?’

He jumped on top of her now and put his hands around her throat. She bucked beneath him and tried to fight him off, but then she suddenly went limp and her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Yates let go of her throat and shook her. When she didn’t respond, he leapt off the bed and stared down at her. Shit! He hadn’t meant to
kill
her. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Fire!

As soon as the word entered his mind, he fled back down the stairs. Nobody had seen him come back into the house, so all he had to do was set it on fire and get out of there, and they would never be able to pin any of it on him.

24

Gemma was in her usual spot on the chair by the window, from where she could watch TV while keeping an eye on the goings-on outside. Knitting needles flying, her latest cardigan half-grown in her lap, she froze when she noticed a thin swirl of smoke rise into the air across the road. Curious, she pulled her net curtain aside and squinted to get a better look. Shocked to see a faint orange glow at Amy’s bedroom window, and wispy smoke filtering out through the top of the frame, she jumped up and reached for the phone.

‘Fire!’ she spluttered. ‘The house across the road is on fire . . . And I think the girl’s in there. Hurry!’

Marnie had been having a good time at the karaoke, but when her head started to spin she realised she’d had one too many and, conscious of the new life nestled in her womb, told her girlfriends that she was going home.

She sobered up fast when the cab turned onto her road and she saw blue flashing lights. She rolled the back window down and leaned out to see what was going on. Shocked to see a fire engine, two ambulances and several police vehicles blocking the road ahead, she realised where they were and, fearing the worst, gasped, ‘Oh, my God! That’s my house!’

Gemma was standing with a group of neighbours. When she saw Marnie climb out of the cab and come running down the road, she waddled over to her as fast as her fat legs would allow.

‘It’s Amy,’ she blurted out. ‘The house was on fire and she was in there. I called the emergency as soon as I saw it. They’ve just brought her out.’

‘Oh, God, she’s not . . .’ Unable to say the word, Marnie threw a hand over her mouth.

‘Don’t know,’ Gemma admitted grimly. ‘No one’s telling us nothing. But they didn’t look too happy when they carried her to the ambulance.’

‘Where’s Lenny?’ Marnie worriedly searched the faces of the onlookers.

‘He’s not here,’ Gemma assured her, patting her hand. ‘Bleedin’ lucky, though, ’cos he called round about half an hour ago. But I saw him go off again, so he’s definitely safe. Why don’t you give him a ring if you’re worried?’

‘Yeah, I will,’ Marnie murmured, her voice thick with relief.

She pulled her mobile out of her pocket and moved away so that Gemma wouldn’t hear her. Her friend obviously knew that something was going on, but Marnie hadn’t actually admitted to it, and Gemma hadn’t outright asked. It would be common knowledge soon enough now that the pregnancy test had confirmed her suspicions but, under the circumstances, it hardly seemed appropriate to announce it right now.

‘Lenny, it’s me,’ she said quietly when he answered. ‘Where are you?’

‘At my mate’s,’ he told her. ‘You still in town?’

‘No, I’m home, but there’s a problem,’ said Marnie, her gaze following the ambulance as it drove past her.

‘Was that a siren?’ Yates asked. ‘What’s going on?’

‘There’s been a fire,’ Marnie told him. ‘It’s Amy. I think you’d best get over here.’

Yates arrived ten minutes later. The road was still blocked, so he left his car at the corner and ran down to the police tape that was stretched from pavement to pavement.

‘What’s going on?’ he yelled to a policewoman who was standing on the other side. ‘That’s my girlfriend’s house . . . where is she? Amy . . .
AMY!
’

‘Calm down, sir.’ The policewoman came over. ‘We got her out. She’s on her way to hospital.’

Face contorted with worry, Yates reached across the tape and grabbed her arm. ‘Is she . . . is she okay?’

‘We haven’t heard anything yet, but we’ll let you know as soon as we do.’

‘She was fine when I left her. Everything was fine. How could this happen?’

‘We’ll know soon enough,’ the policewoman assured him. ‘When did you last see Mrs Taylor?’

‘I don’t know.’ Yates shrugged. ‘About an hour ago. Why?’

‘Could you just come through here for a moment while I take your details?’ She lifted the tape and waved him towards one of the police cars.

‘My name’s Yates,’ he told her when he was sitting in the back of the car. ‘Leonard Yates. I live at thirty-seven Langley Court, but I stay here most of the time.’ He gazed out of the window now and peered at the house as if he was in agony. ‘I can’t believe this. I should have been here. I should be with her now. Where’ve they took her?’

‘Don’t worry,’ said the policewoman, jotting his details down. ‘You’ll be able to see her as soon as we’ve finished here. Can you just tell me where you’ve been since you left the house?’

‘Why?’ Yates screwed up his face. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Just routine.’

Before Yates could answer, a voice came over the radio and the policewoman excused herself and stepped out of the car. Keeping an eye on her, Yates slid his mobile out of his pocket and rang Keith.

‘It’s me. Don’t ask questions ’cos I ain’t got time to explain. If anyone asks I’ve been at yours for the last hour watching a DVD. I don’t know. What’ve you got? Yeah, that’s fine. Laters.’

He disconnected just as the policewoman came back to the car, accompanied by a male officer. ‘Was that about Amy?’ He gave her a questioning, dread-filled look when she opened the back door. ‘She’s not . . .’