Fighting for Survival (The Estate, Book 3) (27 page)

‘You don’t have kids, do you?’

‘Sadly, no. I’m unable to.’

‘Oh, shit, I –’

Caren held up her hand. ‘It’s okay. I’ve known for a while now. Dodgy ovaries and I ended up having an early menopause. It couldn’t be helped.’ For a moment, she thought of Donna Adams and Sam. Donna had finally been in touch; surprisingly, it seemed that Sam was coming to visit them next week.

‘Then you must hate me for what I did, giving my kids up when you can’t have any.’

‘We all do things according to our circumstances. It’s not my style to judge anyone.’ Caren paused. ‘Maybe once things have died down, you and I could start meeting for coffee once in a while. I could give you a lift into town, share the odd glass of wine in the evening. What do you say? It’ll certainly get that lot out there talking.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Ruth asked suddenly.

‘It’s because I know how shit I felt when I had to move into Stanley Avenue - and I had John to help me out. You wouldn’t believe the arguments and rows we had when we first got here.’

Ruth was surprised by this. ‘You always look so solid when I see you together.’

‘That’s because I, unlike Gina Bradley, won’t air my dirty washing in public. There were times I could have killed him, especially when he started to spend more time over on the scummy side of the street with Pete.’ Caren stopped when she heard Ruth giggle. ‘What?’

‘The scummy side of the street?’

‘Oh.’ Caren smiled. ‘That’s my nickname. I shouted it out in temper to John once and it stuck. It’s appropriate, though.’

‘It is.’

‘And if that bloody Pete knocks on your door again, tell him to sling his hook.’

Ruth’s smile faded.

‘He’s a bully too. I think that’s where Gina gets it from. She doesn’t control that family as much as she likes to think. He does; the tosser. He tried it on with me too.’

Ruth’s mouth gaped.

‘He threatened me. Said he’d get me if I stopped John from hanging around with him. Well, I stopped him and nothing happened to me.’

‘Yet,’ muttered Ruth.

‘It’s too late now. And besides, he moved on to you, didn’t he, the bastard?’

Ruth nodded.

‘But he won’t be coming in again, will he?’

Ruth shook her head. ‘I just hope he gets the message.’

‘Maybe he won’t come round now that someone has blabbed. And I’ll get John to fit you some more security on your door, if that’s ok?’

‘I don’t have any money until next week. I can’t pay you until then.’

‘We don’t need money.’ Caren waved the offer away. ‘Have you any idea of the junk he pulled from our garage before we had to move? He’ll have something lying around doing nothing.’

‘Thanks,’ Ruth said again.

Caren smiled.

‘No, really. I mean it. You didn’t have to step in this morning.’

‘I
wanted
to. Someone has to stand up to that foul-mouthed cow. Although, I must admit, I’m not a fighter. If she had a go at me, I’d have done the same as you.’

‘She’s got a hard hit.’ Ruth touched her nose and winced.

‘There is one thing, though.’ Caren splayed out her fingers. ‘I’d have been annoyed if she broke one of my nails. Hey, I’ve had an idea.’

Gina stood on the back step, puffing heavily on a cigarette. Although there was a wind blowing and the weather had turned colder overnight, she wasn’t about to go inside the house; she knew she’d have to face the music after what she’d done.

She took another long puff. What the hell had gotten in to her? One minute she was telling her family to back off and behave; the next she was fighting hell for leather in the middle of the street. Some example she was setting! She recalled every detail of the incident in slow motion in her mind. Ruth had looked like a cornered animal. She hadn’t fought back at all and there was only one reason she could think of for that – she must have a guilty conscience.

A few minutes later, Gina took a final drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out, letting out a sigh along with the smoke. Maybe Caren was right: maybe she was fit for nothing except fighting. Gina Bradley – not an exam to her name, not a penny earned by hard work. And if truth be told, she had too much time on her hands. There was nothing to do with her days; they all rolled into one.

She had no purpose to her pitiful life. Pete went out to do some kind of cash in hand job most days. Even the girls went to school occasionally. But what did she have? Nothing. Every day was the same. Every day in the future was doomed to be the same – unless she did something about it. 

Claire was in the kitchen when she finally went inside. She gave her mother a filthy look.

‘I’m sorry, love,’ said Gina. ‘I don’t know what came over me. And after what me and Dad said last night, it isn’t right.’

‘Then why did you do it?’ Claire asked. ‘It was horrible to see you laying into her, in front of everyone, not bothering how much you hurt her.’

‘It’s only the same as you and Rachel having a go at Stacey or one of the other girls you’ve been fighting with lately.’

‘No, it’s not. We’re not that nasty.’

Gina opened her mouth to snap back an answer but she closed it instead. Her fight wasn’t with her daughter.

‘I don’t know why I did it,’ she admitted moments later after they’d sat in a stony silence. ‘That’s the honest truth.’

‘Then maybe you should do an anger management course or something.’

‘Anger management?’ Gina laughed. ‘You must be joking. Living in this house, I’d never get a chance to learn how to be calm. Besides, it’s not in my make up.’

‘But have you any idea how embarrassing it is to see your mum beating up a defenceless woman in the middle of the street? To have another neighbour pulling her away?’

‘Okay, okay!’ Gina had heard enough. ‘It’s me who should be lecturing you about these things.’

‘I didn’t start the fight this morning!’

‘No, but you’ll probably start another one sooner than I will.’

Claire had no answer to that.

Gina left her to sulk in the kitchen. In the living room, she thought about what Claire had said. She hadn’t realised how she would look through her child’s eyes - she hadn’t actually thought any further than punching Ruth’s lights out.

She ran a hand through her greasy hair and sniggered. Anger management indeed. But deep down inside, she knew it was what she needed. She had to get rid of all her pent-up aggression or it would ruin her. She’d end up in real trouble – she might even end up in prison – and then where would she be? 

 Maybe it was time to see if she could get some help, start setting an example to her children instead of being an embarrassment. It was never too late to change, right?

And she knew just the person to go to.

CHAPTER TWENTY

‘I never expected to see you sitting in my office.’ Josie smiled at Gina. ‘It’s obviously not a call you’re making lightly. Trouble at the mill?’

‘Isn’t there always?’ Gina tried to make light of her mood. It had been easy to make out she was nipping across to the shops this morning and sidle into The Workshop and ask to see Josie. She’d thought of the idea last night; her cosy family night in had disintegrated when Rachel and Pete had given her as much of a tough time as Claire had over the fight with Ruth. Rachel dragged Claire out with her and Pete stormed off to the pub fifteen minutes later, saying she was stifling him. She’d sat and cried for over an hour before deciding that she needed to get help. But now she was here, sitting in Josie’s tidy office, she didn’t really know where to start.

 ‘So who do you want to talk about? Pete? The girls?’ Josie paused. ‘Or is there anything I can help you with?’

Gina glanced up and was embarrassed to find her eyes had filled with tears. ‘I don’t know where to start. I’m so angry, all the time. I’m arguing with Pete; my girls have gone haywire because I let them get away with stuff. When I do decide to talk to them, I go and…’ Gina stopped. She didn’t want to alert Josie to the trouble she’d made with Ruth. ‘Let’s say I let myself down.’

‘You’re bored, Gina. Your life is empty, your children have grown up and are no longer dependent on you, and you don’t feel that you fit in anywhere. And, being frank, you don’t, do you?’

If anyone else had spoken so harshly to her, Gina would have followed it with a torrent of abuse. But she knew that Josie was telling the truth. And hadn’t Caren said something similar yesterday?

‘I feel like I’m not in control anymore,’ she admitted. ‘I feel like no one listens to me. I feel – I feel invisible.’

‘And that’s what makes you so angry?’

Gina nodded. ‘I suppose.’

‘I still think it comes down to boredom.’ Josie swivelled on her chair slightly. ‘Look, I could really use you right now. I’ve been asking you to visit The Workshop for months. There are lots of things you can do here to stop you from taking your frustration out on other people. Come and help me.’

‘Me?’ Gina looked taken aback. ‘What would you want me here for? I’ve just said no one listens to me. I can’t –’

‘You are part of the estate.’ Josie ticked off a list with her fingers. ‘You know how easy it is to be dragged down. You’d be great with some of the kids groups, even the teenagers.’

Gina sat wide-eyed. ‘No one has a good word to say about the Bradleys. How can that be to your advantage?’

‘I’m crying out for help – there’s obviously no way I can pay you, I have to make that clear from the start – but you’d be perfect because of who you are.’  

‘Now you’re really talking shit.’ Gina sat back in her chair.

‘No, I’m not. I think it would work for both of us.’ Josie reached for her diary and flicked through it quickly. ‘How about you give me a week? You come to the centre, say a couple of hours every morning, and I’ll get you involved with different groups. At the end of the week, if you’re still here,’ she smiled kindly, ‘maybe you can choose an area where you feel you could make a difference and come on a more regular basis? I can be around for you, if you like? I could introduce you to people; let you get the feel of the place. It’ll become familiar to you after a few days. More importantly, it’ll give you something to look forward to.’

Gina felt her spirit lifting. Could she find a purpose here, fit in and do something useful? Maybe she’d stop getting into so much trouble if she was involved with other people. Maybe she could even make a few friends.

But then reality kicked in. Pete would take the piss out of her for volunteering - in his eyes you never did anything without payment. And Rachel and Claire would probably be mortified that she’d be working with some of the kids from their school. They’d start moaning about street cred and that she wasn’t home for them when they needed her.

But, no matter how much grief she was bound to get from her family, she knew that she needed this more. She nodded at Josie.

‘Okay, then. I’ll give it a go. A week, you say?’

Josie’s smile made it all the more meaningful. ‘Great! I’m sure you’ll find it worthwhile. And, like I said, I need all the help I can get here.’

Gina grinned. ‘As long as you remember, I’m as mad as the colour of my hair.’

Caren had dropped John off at work and taken the car to do a shop at the supermarket. When she parked up outside her house afterwards, the first thing she noticed was the Bradley girls sitting on their garden wall. Hmm – no school again, she shook her head. Then again, they were wearing their uniforms underneath their coats and it was lunch time. Maybe she shouldn’t be so judgmental. She gathered together a few bags of groceries from the boot of the car.  

‘Damn and blast and bugger!’ She grappled helplessly as the handle split on one of them, her groceries falling to the tarmac. She knew the twins would be laughing at her. But then she noticed a pair of trainers in her line of vision and heard one of them speak. She stood up quickly, surprised to see one of them holding out the damaged bag and the other putting things back into it.

‘You’ll have to carry it by the bottom,’ said Claire, ‘but it should hold.’

‘Thanks,’ said Caren.

‘I’ll take it in, if you like,’ offered Rachel.

A bit taken aback, Caren nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘I don’t know why you don’t have it delivered,’ said Rachel. ‘I bet it’s so much better ordering online and then getting it delivered for you.’

And a luxury I can no longer afford, thought Caren. Gone are the days when she could order all she wanted over the internet and not worry about the cost.

‘But this way I get to see all the bargains and BOGOF’s,’ she replied.

‘BOGOF’s?’

‘Buy One Get One Free,’ said Claire. ‘BOGOF’s.’

They trooped around the back of the house and Caren let them into the kitchen. Claire put the broken shopping bag down onto the table. Rachel added the two that she’d brought in as well.

‘Thanks,’ said Caren. ‘That was good of you to help me.’ As they turned to leave, something inside her softened. ‘Would you girls like a coffee?’ She pulled out a packet of biscuits. ‘And a BOGOF custard cream?’