Fighting for Survival (The Estate, Book 3) (35 page)

But seeing all the Bradley family together, supporting their own, no matter whether they got on with each other or not, it made Ruth realise she’d completely lost her way. Worse than that, she couldn’t think of anything she could do to make amends.

Back in the kitchen, Ruth took out two bottles of vodka she’d bought the day before. She twisted the top from one and, not bothering with a glass, swigged back a large mouthful. Wiping her mouth, she coughed. Then she poured half of it into a large glass and fumbled for her tablets. There was only one thing left to do.

But first she needed a notepad.

As the funeral cortege drew up in front of the chapel at the crematorium, Gina imagined how a movie star must feel at a film premiere. There were no paparazzi, no screaming crowds, no flash photography, but everyone was looking at them – and ironically she could glimpse a red carpet inside the chapel. 

‘There must be two hundred people here,’ said Pete, glancing around at the groups standing in silence. ‘I barely know any of them.’ He peered through the window.

‘Good old Mitchell Estate, give anyone a good sending off,’ said Barbara fondly.

The driver came round and opened the door. Gina stepped onto the tarmac. The crowd began to move forward. She noticed a few familiar faces amongst them: Josie Mellor and Matt Simpson - the caretaker from the Workshop - Cathy Mason, Andy Baxter.  She spotted some of the regulars from The Butcher’s Arms, and the manager of Shop&Save was just driving past in his car to park up. But mostly there were teenagers everywhere. Groups of girls in tears; groups of boys standing stoic. There were people from Stanley Avenue too. But even as she wondered if she’d come, Gina knew who she was really searching out.

Her eyes raced around the crowd and beyond, finally seeing Maggie Hunter in the distance. She prickled but realised she needed to catch the woman’s eye. When she did, she watched Maggie lower hers to the ground. Gina waited for her to lift them again and gave her a small nod in acknowledgement. Mother to mother, she understood her pain. They were both suffering for the actions of their daughters and Maggie had lost her daughter in a way too. Stacey would be locked up for a good many years to come. Gina couldn’t stay bitter at the thought that Maggie could always visit her daughter; always see her when she was released. What had happened would change Stacey too. She needed help; maybe she would get it, and maybe she wouldn’t accept it – who knew? But it would be a long time before Stacey came back to the Mitchell Estate, if she ever did. 

Maggie Hunter nodded back before disappearing behind a crowd of teenagers who had only just arrived.

Claire took her hand. ‘Come on, Mum.’

Gina looked at the coffin in front of them by the chapel doors, even now not wanting to believe that one of her daughters was lying inside it. The family had said their final goodbyes last night and Gina felt more at peace now. She’d kissed Rachel’s cold forehead and left her in the hands of the angels – she wasn’t sure whether God existed or not. But she hoped that Rachel had gone to somewhere far better than here. And she hoped to see her there someday in the future.

By her side, Claire took a single red rose from the undertaker. Gina gave her hand a quick squeeze as they waited for everyone in the funeral party to get out of their cars and stand behind them.

‘I feel sick, Mum,’ whispered Claire.

‘Me, too.’ Gina took hold of Pete’s hand on her other side. Danny stood to his side.

The notes from the chorus of
We are Young
rang out from inside the tiny chapel, their cue to move forward. Gina knew that some people wouldn’t have heard of the band
Fun
but the song had been Claire’s choice. It meant a lot to her.

With her remaining daughter hanging onto her arm, Gina swallowed, blinking away tears. Finally, she managed to put one foot in front of the other and go in.

By the time they were back in Stanley Avenue, Gina was drained of emotion as well as tears. She’d refused to have the wake anywhere but the house – didn’t want Pete getting drunk and shouting his mouth off about the Hunter family. It would only cause more ill-feeling.

Quite a few friends had come back to the house for the wake. It was nearing six thirty now; most people had gone but a few of the neighbours were there.

‘It’s been a tough day for you, our Gina,’ Barbara stopped her on the way back to the kitchen with a pile of empty plates. ‘You look worn out.’

‘I’m knackered, Mum,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ll keep on going until everyone has left.’

Claire was in the kitchen, sitting with Caren and John. They were laughing about something, and instantly stopped when they saw Gina.

‘It’s okay,’ said Gina, understanding their guilt.

‘Claire was telling us about some of the things she and Rachel got up to.’

Gina smiled. ‘About the times they got into scrapes or the ‘just plain silly’ times?’

‘A bit of both actually,’ said Claire. All of a sudden, her laughter changed to tears. Gina rushed over and hugged her.

‘It’s okay to be happy, love. Rachel wouldn’t want us to be sad all the time.’

‘I miss her, Mum,’ sobbed Claire. ‘I can’t live without her.’

‘Yes, you can. Things will seem different for a while, that’s all.’

‘But you don’t understand. I feel like I’m missing my shadow.’

Pete staggered into the room. He burped loudly, noticing the scowl that came from Caren.

‘What’s the matter with you lot?’ He wiped his mouth with his hand and sniggered. ‘Cheer up, why don’t you!’

‘Don’t be so disrespectful!’ snapped Gina.

‘It was a joke, for Chrissake…’ Pete raised his hands in surrender, splashing lager from his can over the floor.

‘I can’t believe you’re wasted. Go upstairs and sleep it off,’ Gina told him coolly. ‘You’re embarrassing.’

‘Hey, Miss Fancy Pants,’ Pete staggered towards Caren. ‘Did you enjoy seeing Sam Harvey?’ he stopped within inches of her face.

‘Get away from me!’ Caren pushed him, trying not to heave at the stench of his breath.

‘You think you’re so high and mighty across the other side of the road. Well, I showed you, didn’t I?’

‘Showed me what?’

‘Did it shatter your perfect life when you found out John had a kid when you failed to give him any?’

‘That’s enough,’ warned Gina.

‘It’s – it’s none of your business,’ said Caren, the word failed hanging in the air.

‘But I want to hear. How much did Sam coming back on the scene ruin your happy marriage?’

‘We have a strong relationship – something as stupid as that wouldn’t have torn us apart.’

‘You are so stupid,’ Gina said to Pete.

‘Huh?’ Pete spun round to face Gina, staggering slightly but keeping his balance.

‘I
know
, you sad bastard,’ she snapped. 

Pete frowned as he steadied himself again.

‘I knew too – that Sam wasn’t John’s son,’ said Caren. ‘One minute Sam was there; the next he never turned up when he arranged another meeting. The girls had told me his age and I was deciding what –’

‘I don’t mean that,’ Gina interrupted. She looked pointedly at Pete, ‘I mean that I
know
who Sam’s father is.’

‘What’s going on?’ John was looking from one to the other in confusion.

‘Claire, tell them how old Sam is,’ said Gina.

‘He’s eighteen.’

‘But Donna told us he was twenty-one,’ John said to Pete.

‘He tried to trick you,’ said Gina.

‘Sam’s your son,’ Pete said to John.

‘Liar!’ Gina screamed. ‘Sam’s your son!’ 

‘What?’ Caren cried.

‘Yuck!’ said Claire. ‘You mean I’ve kissed my own brother!’

‘So,’ John tried to link the pieces together, ‘if Sam isn’t my son, then why did he turn up with Donna to say that he was?’

‘He paid Sam fifty quid to pretend that he was your son, thinking it would cause arguments between you, take away what you had and maybe spilt you up. But once Sam, being the loser that he is, saw your house and what he could thieve, he decided to rob it too.’

Pete looked confused. ‘I didn’t tell him to do that.’

‘I overheard him talking when I was at The Workshop. All the damage he caused is down to you.’

‘My God, you piece of lowlife.’ Caren shook her head in disbelief. ‘Have you any idea how we felt after that burglary?’

‘That stupid little fucker,’ said Pete. ‘If –’

John stood up quickly. ‘Why, you –’ In his haste, the chair scraped across the floor as he lunged at Pete.

‘John, no!’ Caren pulled him back.

‘I’m warning you,’ John pointed at him. ‘Stay away from me and stay away from my family.’

Gina left them to it. What did she care? Pete had done his worse by her. The neighbours were already standing in the doorway, coming to see what the commotion was about. This new revelation would be all around the estate tomorrow.

 ‘Is it true, Dad?’ Claire asked once John and Caren had gone. ‘Sam is your son?’

‘Of course it’s true,’ said Gina. ‘Your dad can never keep his dick in his trousers.’

‘That’s because you never give me any – you’re like a lump of lard.’

‘Zip it,’ she told him. ‘For years I’ve put up with you and your inconsiderate ways, your philandering and your selfishness; letting you get away with everything. Good old Gina – why should I give a fuck about her? Well, you were right about one thing. I must have been dim to put up with it. But at least I can make amends for my stupidity now. I want you out of this house.’

‘You can’t make me –’

Gina launched herself at him. ‘Get out of my HOUSE!’

Pete wrestled to grab her wrists as she pummelled at his chest.

‘I hate you, you useless piece of shit. If it wasn’t for you, we –’

‘Stop it!’ yelled Claire. ‘STOP IT!’ She began to scream at the top of her voice, taking a step backwards, and another and another until she touched the wall behind.

Everyone stopped as Claire pointed a finger at her mum and dad.

‘You two,’ her hand shook visibly, ‘that’s where we get it from. Rachel’s dead and you’re
still
fighting. I hate you. I hate you
both
.’

Pete turned away from them. Even drunk, Claire’s words had got to him.

All at once, Gina saw herself through her child’s eyes. They had to stop all this rage escaping. It wasn’t good for any of them. Suddenly, she knew what she must do – the
only
thing she could do. But first she needed to comfort her daughter.   

‘I’m sorry, love.’ Gina put out her arms. ‘Come here.’

Claire slapped them away and pushed past her. ‘I hate you and I hate him. I’m leaving and I’m never coming back!’

And with that, she ran of the house.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dear Mason and Jamie

I am sorry for letting you down. I love you so much but I know that you will be better off with people who love you and can take care of you and make you happy. I hope that you find that and I hope that you will always look out for one another. Lots of love always, Mum x

Dear Gina

I am so sorry that I couldn’t save Rachel. She was so young and didn’t deserve to die like that. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I felt so helpless watching her slip away, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to stop the blood. I hope that Claire will find peace, as I hope you will too, one day.

Ruth

Dear Caren

Thank you so much for being my friend. You were there for me when I had no one to talk to. I’m sorry to let you down but I can’t see a way out apart from this. The dark cloud is back. No one will miss me anyway.

Ruth

Ruth picked up another photo. It had been taken when Mason was two; Jamie was a baby. They were sitting on a bench either side of their dad. She ran a finger down the image of Glenn, remembering his smile, his laughter, the way he made her feel. Tears dripped onto the glass. God, she loved him so much.

Another photo. She was holding a newly born Mason, Glenn had his arm around her. She topped up her glass with vodka and drunk it quickly. Her eyes were getting weary now as she brought the photo closer. It had been such a happy time. But Ruth didn’t smile through her tears.

Paper balls were strewn across the kitchen floor. She’d started to write notes to the boys and given up many times before finally settling on what she had written. In simple terms, she loved them and she needed them to know that. What more was there to say? She was sorry but they wouldn’t care about that. She’d already ruined their lives; she had no right to ruin them further. They weren’t her children now. Someone else was looking after them.