Broke (3 page)

None of his mates were in, so Mark bought a pint and wandered over to the fruit machine in the corner. Made up when three cherries rolled around on his first go and ten pound coins rattled down into the tray, he shoved another fifty pence in, only for a further five quid to spew out. Mood lifting, he took a swig of his pint and dragged up a stool. It was his lucky night, and no fucker was getting near this machine tonight until he’d hit the jackpot.

It didn’t happen, and by the time the bell rang for last orders he had precisely forty pence left to his name – not even enough to feed the machine one last time, never mind catch the bus to work in the morning. And definitely not enough to buy another drink to cushion him against the shit that Amy was going to throw at him.

Relieved to find the house in darkness when he got home, Mark let himself in quietly and slipped his feet out of his trainers. Then, keeping an eye on the stairs, he crept into the kitchen and pulled Amy’s handbag out from the tray beneath Bobby’s pram. Smiling when he looked in her purse and saw two ten-pound notes in the slot behind the change compartment, he slipped one into his pocket before putting everything back where he’d found it and heading up to bed. Amy would go mad when she realised the money was gone but he didn’t care. He’d earned it, so he could do what the fuck he liked with it.

2

When the alarm woke Amy the next morning she reached out and switched it off, then stretched her arms above her head and yawned. She’d thought she was never going to get to sleep when Marnie and that stupid man of hers moved the action upstairs, but the cotton wool had shielded her from the worst of it – thank God.

She pulled the sticky little plugs out of her ears now and sat up. Surprised to see a lump on Mark’s side of the bed, because she hadn’t expected him to come home, she remembered the vow she’d made to be nicer to him and lay back down.

‘Morning,’ she purred, snuggling up to him and kissing the back of his neck.

‘What time is it?’ Mark rubbed at his eyes.

‘Just gone seven.’ She slid her fingers slowly down through the hairs on his stomach. ‘You’ve got twenty minutes yet.’

When she reached his crotch, Mark’s brain switched places with his dick and he rolled towards her and tugged at her nightie.

‘Sorry about last night,’ she murmured when he climbed on top of her.

‘Sshhh,’ he grunted, shoving her legs apart.

‘
You
shush,’ she gasped, giggling when he set the headboard banging against the wall. ‘You’ll wake the kids up.’

‘Tell ’em we’re playing doctors and nurses,’ said Mark, clamping his mouth over hers to keep her from saying anything else.

They hadn’t had sex for a while, mainly because they had been arguing so much lately. And when they argued, Mark always stormed off to the pub and came back late, if he came back at all, by which time Amy wouldn’t have let him touch her even if she’d still been awake. So it was short and sweet now, and all over within a couple of minutes.

When they had finished, Mark jumped out of bed and had a quick wash before leaving for work. After he’d gone, Amy woke the kids and went downstairs to make breakfast, singing softly along to the radio as she toasted the bread and made herself a cup of tea.

She’d only been fourteen when she’d started going out with Mark, fifteen when she’d got pregnant, and sixteen when they’d got married. A pair of kids propelled into adulthood, they’d had more than their share of fights over the last five years, and she’d lost count of how many times one or other of them had demanded a divorce. But Mark had been her first love, and she felt as strongly about him today as she always had, so it was good to be back on track.

Now all she had to do was make sue she didn’t let the kids get to her today and sour things by being moody when Mark got home this evening.

Thinking about the kids, she walked out into the hall and shouted, ‘Cassie, hurry up. Your toast’s going cold.’

‘It’s Bobby,’ her daughter’s complaining voice floated back. ‘He won’t let me put his jumper on. He keeps pulling his arms out and kicking me. And now he’s locked ’isself in the bathroom.’

‘Bobby, get out of there right now!’ Amy yelled. ‘And do as your sister says, or I’ll be coming up to sort you out.’

Amused when she heard the bathroom bolt slide out of its hasp, followed by the sound of Bobby’s pudgy little feet slapping on the floorboards above as he ran back to the bedroom he shared with his sister, Amy went back into the kitchen and finished her tea. She was rinsing her cup at the sink when she heard a tap on the window.

‘Bit early for you, isn’t it?’ she teased when she opened the door. ‘I thought you’d be hibernating for a week after the racket you and Neil made last night.’

‘Don’t mention that man’s name to me,’ Marnie grunted, pulling a face as she walked in. ‘I told him from the off that I didn’t want to get into anything serious, and he said he felt the same. But then he goes and gets all heavy on me last night, prattling on about leaving his wife and moving in with me.’

‘You’re joking!’ Amy raised an eyebrow. ‘What did you say?’

‘Oh, believe me, I soon set him straight. I said, listen here, mate, I don’t mind the occasional shag, but you can fuck
right
off if you think I’m giving up my freedom to wash your stinking boxers!’

‘Bet he loved that. So, have you told him it’s over, or are you just going to freeze him out?’

‘The ice queen cometh.’ Marnie grinned. ‘And if that don’t work, I’ll get our Lee to kick his head in. Anyhow, I don’t wanna talk about him.’ She flapped her hand to indicate that the subject matter was as finished as the relationship. ‘Fancy coming to town after you’ve dropped Cass off?’

‘Yeah, why not?’ Amy kicked off her slippers and sat down to pull her trainers on. ‘Oi!’ she protested when Marnie picked up a piece of toast. ‘That’s Cassie’s.’

Marnie took a bite and grinned through the crumbs. ‘Sorry, but I’m starving, and it was just sitting there asking to be scoffed. Fussy knickers probably won’t want it anyhow, knowing her.’

‘Bobby’s the fussy one, not Cassie,’ Amy corrected her. Then, noticing the time, she pushed past her and went back out into the hall, yelling, ‘Will you two get a move on, I won’t tell you again!’

Cassie came stomping down the stairs, tugging her little brother along behind her. ‘Stop dragging your feet,’ she warned, almost yanking him right off the last couple of steps. ‘I’ve had just about enough of you for one morning.’

‘Bless!’ Marnie laughed. ‘She sounds just like you, Ames.’

Amy turned her head so the kids wouldn’t see the smile on her lips. Cassie had just turned three when Bobby came along, and she’d mothered him from the off. And, just like a real mother, her adoration was mixed with impatience, so she thought nothing of telling him off if he didn’t do as she said, or giving him a little slap if she thought he deserved it. Amy’s mum had told her off for letting Cassie get away with that, but Amy didn’t see the harm in it as long as Cassie didn’t hurt him. Anyway, she thought it was kind of cute to see a five-year-old acting like a full-grown woman.

As Amy manhandled Bobby into his anorak and strapped him into his buggy now, Cassie slotted a piece of toast between her teeth and pulled on her own coat. When she reached into her pocket for her mittens, a folded piece of paper fell out. She picked it up and handed it to her mum.

‘What is it?’ Amy asked, ushering her out into the hall.

‘My teacher said to give it to you. It’s about the trip.’

‘What trip?’

‘Chester Zoo, next week.’ Cassie gazed up at her with a world-weary look in her eyes. ‘You forgot, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, shit!’

‘Language,’ Marnie teased, grasping the buggy’s handles and pushing it over the step.

Amy opened the letter and groaned when she saw that it was a reminder for payment: £9.50 – due today, or Cassie would be excluded from the trip.

‘Sorry, love, I can’t afford it.’ She gave her daughter a regretful smile and tossed the letter onto the hall table. ‘Maybe next time, eh?’

Tears immediately welled in Cassie’s big blue eyes. ‘I’ve got to go, Mummy. Everyone else is going, an’ I don’t wanna stay in the office with Mr Tunney. He smells.’

Amy sighed. Cassie was right: Mr Tunney, the deputy head, did smell. Correction, he
stank
– of BO and halitosis.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I’d let you go if I could, but I’ve got to put credit on the electric and get a bit of shopping.’

‘Don’t be so tight.’ Marnie gave her friend a disapproving look. ‘It’s horrible being the odd one out when you’re a kid.’

‘Can I?’ Cassie’s face was a picture of hope. ‘
Please
, Mummy? Ruby will sit with Shandi if I don’t go, and they’ll make bestest friends and won’t play with me no more.’

‘Right, fine,’ Amy conceded, flashing Marnie a hooded look of annoyance as she yanked her handbag out from under the buggy. ‘But don’t bother asking for sweets for the rest of the week ’cos you won’t be getting any.’

As Cassie nodded her eager agreement, Amy opened her purse – and frowned when she saw the lone ten-pound note.

‘What’s up?’ Marnie asked when she started rifling through her bag.

‘I’ve lost a tenner.’

‘You probably spent it and forgot. I’m always doing that.’

‘No, it was definitely there last night. I bought the kids an ice cream on the way home from school yesterday, and there were two of them. And I didn’t go anywhere else after that.’

‘Maybe Mark took it?’

‘No, not without telling me.’

‘You’ll have put it somewhere safe, knowing you,’ Marnie suggested. ‘But can you look for it later, or we’ll miss the bus. Don’t worry, I’ll pay.’

Amy knew that she hadn’t taken the money out of her purse, but she could do without Cassie’s teacher giving her another lecture about the importance of punctuality so she pushed it to the back of her mind, telling herself that if worse came to worst and she didn’t find it, Mark would just have to stump up for the electric. He always pleaded poverty whenever she asked for money, but if he could afford to go drinking three or four nights a week he could certainly afford to keep the lights on at home.

By lunchtime, the tenner was burning a great big hole in Mark’s pocket and he couldn’t wait to get to the bookie’s. It was another week and a half before he was due to be paid, and he needed cash asap. But he had no intention of telling Steve where he was going, because he could do without one of his mate’s legendary lectures about the folly of throwing money away on gambling when he could be spending it on booze instead.

Hoping to avoid Steve now, he darted into the staffroom and changed out of his paint-splattered overalls. But Steve popped his head around the door just as he was pulling on his jacket and asked if he was ready.

‘Er, no, I’m giving the pub a miss today,’ Mark told him cagily.

‘Yeah, right.’ Steve smirked. ‘And the pope’s coming round mine for dinner tonight. Come on, the lads are waiting.’

‘No, I’m serious,’ Mark said, following him out. ‘I’ve got an errand to run for Amy.’

‘I don’t mind subbing you a couple of pints if you’re broke,’ Steve offered.

‘Cheers.’ Mark gave him a grateful smile. ‘But I promised Amy I’d check up on this thing she’s waiting for from the catalogue.’

‘Whatever,’ Steve said dismissively, accurately guessing where Mark was really going. ‘Just don’t be late back.’

‘I won’t,’ said Mark, grinning as he set off in the opposite direction.

Mark had no clue about form, or any of that other shit, so when he had the money to take a punt he generally picked out horses whose names gave him ‘a feeling’. It was a shit system, and nine times out of ten he came out of the bookie’s with less in his pocket than when he’d gone in. But not today. Today, luck was on his side, and he had two hundred and fifty quid in his hand by the time he realised he was late back to work.

Another race was about to start, and it was a real temptation. But he managed to drag himself away and ran all the way back to the depot.

The gaffer, Stan, was waiting when he sneaked in through the back door.

‘What time do you call this?’

‘Sorry, boss, an old lady fell over when I was on my way to the butty shop,’ Mark lied. ‘I had to call an ambulance, then wait with her till it came.’

‘And that took two hours?’

‘I know, it’s shocking, isn’t it?’ Mark shook his head, the picture of innocence and indignation. ‘I gave them a right mouthful when they turned up. I said, what are youse playing at, leaving an old woman lying on the pavement for that long? She could have froze to death.’

‘Such compassion,’ Stan drawled, not believing a word of it.

‘What was I supposed to do?’ Mark asked. ‘Leave her lying there?’

‘
Yes
, if it meant getting back to work on time,’ barked Stan. Then, pointing a finger in Mark’s face, he said, ‘Do it again and you’re out. Consider yourself warned.’

Mark gave a chastened nod and looked down at his feet until Stan had gone about his business. Then, smirking, he slipped his jacket off and his overalls on, and sauntered through to the workshop.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Steve hissed when Mark joined him at the paint-mixing machine. ‘Stan’s been going off his nut, threatening to sack you, and everything.’

‘He’s all talk,’ Mark replied unconcernedly. ‘I’m going nowhere.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Steve said grimly. ‘You’re pushing your luck, mate.’

‘If you say so.’ Mark smirked.

Amy had just sat the kids down in front of the telly and was about to make a start on dinner when Mark got home that evening. Surprised, because he was earlier than usual, she reached up to kiss him.

‘I’m just putting dinner on. Go and sit down – I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.’

‘No need.’ Mark grinned. ‘I stopped off on the way home and got these.’

A frown skittered across Amy’s brow when he produced two pizza boxes from behind his back. Closing the door into the living room so the kids wouldn’t hear, she whispered, ‘What did you do that for? You know we can’t afford it.’

‘Yes, we can,’ Mark assured her, putting the boxes down on the ledge. ‘I got a bonus from work, so I thought I’d treat you.’