Fighting for Survival (The Estate, Book 3) (9 page)

‘Why would you think that?’ PC Mark Smith asked as he took down the names of the girls he could see.

‘She,’ he pointed to Rachel, ‘had a go at me on the bus this morning. Said she’d seen me somewhere I wasn’t… with –’

‘You want to watch yourself, Archie,’ Rachel said as she drew level with him. ‘Rumours have a nasty way of flaring up on this estate.’

‘I never –’ Archie moved forward but Mark put out his arm to stop him. He stared at the three girls. ‘Move along now. I’ll be over to talk to you soon anyway.’

‘Why?’ asked Rachel. ‘We weren’t even here!’

‘That’s what I aim to find out. Because I saw you here no less than half an hour ago when I drove past.’

‘So?’

‘So… I’ll be over in a minute.’

Rachel strutted off to join the others. As she got to them, she turned and gave Archie Meredith the bird.

‘You should have seen his face when he saw what had happened,’ Charlie laughed.

‘I don’t want to know about it,’ snapped Rachel.

Claire turned to her with a frown. ‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing!’

Rachel perched on the railing and glared at PC Smith. Tonight hadn’t gone to plan because of him. Why did he have to turn up so quickly? Most of the time, people complained about the lack of policing. Oh, he just happened to drive past half an hour ago? Yeah, right. And now she’d missed her fun with Archie. She’d wanted to laugh and laugh in his stupid podgy face and let him know who had done the damage and him to be unable to prove it. Now, because the law had turned up quickly for a change, she hadn’t been able to do that. And it irked her.

‘I did what you said, Rach,’ said Leanne. ‘Am I part of the gang now?’

Rachel glared at her, until Leanne lowered her eyes. ‘There won’t be a fucking gang if we don’t get a little more savvy.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Claire, the only one confident enough to stand up to her.

‘I mean him.’ Rachel pointed over to Mark. ‘I’m sick of everyone thinking that we’re just a girl gang. He’s laughing at us and I don’t like it. The sooner people on this estate realise they can’t mess with the Mitchell Mob,’ she added, ‘the better. And that includes the coppers.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Josie had been about to visit one of her friendlier tenants, Cathy Mason, who lived in Christopher Avenue when Archie Meredith shouted her over.

‘It’s not on,’ he said as she sat on his settee, taking coffee with him and his wife. ‘It’s going to cost me a fortune to put my car right. In fact, I can’t afford to do it all in one go. The paintwork will have to stay damaged.’

‘There isn’t any evidence to say exactly who it was,’ Josie told him, although it pained her to say. ‘The CCTV cameras barely picked the girls up anyway. They’ve been questioned but you know as well as I do, they all say they didn’t do it and they are so hard to tell apart. I’m really sorry.’ 

‘They’re a bunch of animals!’

 ‘The only thing I can do is see if I can get more of a police presence over there,’ she said. ‘I doubt it with resources how they are, and I know it won’t help you now, but –’

‘But they’re never there, are they?’ Archie folded his arms across his protruding belly. ‘I know they’re needed elsewhere, I’m not complaining in that sense, but there aren’t enough coppers to go round this godforsaken place because it’s getting worse.’

‘I wish we could move away from here,’ Mary Meredith said quietly.

Josie looked across at her. Mary was in her mid-fifties. She could tell from looking at her that she had been a beautiful woman in her earlier years. She’d put a bit of weight on due to being struck down with multiple sclerosis several years ago and was now confined to a wheelchair. But she still took pride in her appearance; her clothes were clean, her hair washed and styled.

Josie knew both of their children: Mark who was now twenty-seven and Amanda who was nearing thirty, if she remembered correctly. They had never been in trouble with the police and always kept themselves to themselves. Mark had family of his own now and, although Amanda had moved off the estate, she came to help out with Mary every other day.

There was no mistaking the tears glistening in Mary’s eyes. Seeing them made Josie well up too.

‘I wish I could help you,’ she said to both of them. ‘But you know as well as I do that there’s nothing I
can
do.’

‘You could talk to their parents,’ suggested Archie. ‘Before I get myself into trouble down the pub when I lamp Pete Bradley.’ Archie squeezed his index finger and his thumb together. ‘I was that close to it on Sunday night. But knowing my luck, I’d get locked up for it.’ He smiled affectionately. ‘And who would look after my Mary, then?’

 Mary smiled too, but the tears were still there. Josie’s heart went out to them. They were a lovely couple. Archie had worked all his life, and provided for them both when Mary had been taken ill. Despite her best intentions not to, Josie relented.

‘Let me have a word with Mrs Bradley and see if we can ease things for a while. Sometimes she keeps them away from the square. I’ll talk to –’

Archie shook his head. ‘Thanks, Josie. I know your hands are tied, and I know you mean well, but it won’t work. They’ll only move on and cause trouble elsewhere. Trouble breeds trouble. They’re better on the square, where people can see them, I suppose.’

Josie knew what he meant. How could she give them peace when a man built like Archie Meredith didn’t feel safe going to fetch his wife a bottle of cough medicine from the shops after dark? Archie wasn’t very tall but what he lacked in height, he gave back in muscle. His job as a roofer kept him fit. To know that he was wary of the estate after dark gave Josie the creeps in itself.

But what could she possibly do for them?

‘Let me talk to Mrs Bradley first,’ she tried again. ‘I’ll check in at the police post and see if they have anything to link the girls to the crime. But you know as well as I do that those bloody girls are too clever to get caught out.’

Archie smiled a little. ‘I know you’ll try your best for us. You’re one of the good guys, Josie.’

‘OY!’ a voice bellowed from behind as Josie got out of her car in Stanley Avenue thirty minutes later.  She locked the door before turning around. When she saw who it was, she cursed under her breath.

‘Yes, you,’ cried Barbara as she drew level with her. ‘I hope you’re not off to moan at our Gina again.’

‘What I say to Gina is confidential, Mrs Lewis.’ Josie turned and began to walk away. But Barbara followed her.

‘She’s my daughter, you cheeky cow. She tells me everything.’

I doubt that very much, Josie thought. She continued up the pathway towards Gina’s front door as quickly as possible.

‘She’ll have done nothing wrong,’ Barbara continued, marching behind her. ‘She’s always in trouble for something someone else has done. If it isn’t the twins, it’s Danny. If it isn’t Danny, it’s that useless layabout of a husband. Why can’t you give the poor girl a break?’

‘Mrs Lewis,’ Josie turned on her heels so abruptly that she narrowly missed knocking Barbara to the floor, ‘why don’t you let me do my job? I’m sure Gina will tell you all about it once I’m gone.’

Barbara marched back to her own house as Josie knocked on the Bradleys’ front door. Cathy hadn’t been in after she’d visited Archie Meredith - what she’d give for another sit down at a respectable tenant’s home rather than being about to enter the lion’s den!

She’d almost given up when the front door opened.

‘What do
you
want now?’ Gina cried. ‘My family haven’t done anything wrong as far as I am aware.’

‘Can I come in and chat for a moment?’ Josie said. It wasn’t a question, more of a statement.

‘I’m not interested in anything you have to say.’

‘Can I come in or are we going to tell the whole of Stanley Avenue what’s going on?’

Gina let out a huge sigh and walked into the house, leaving the door open for Josie to follow. As usual, she manoeuvred herself past boxes stacked in the hallway: four of bottled lager, one pack of 32 toilet rolls, several boxes of crisps, and a fair number of cigarettes.

‘These things are a hazard in here,’ said Josie as she squeezed through into the living room. ‘I’ve told you before to move them. If you ever have a fire, you’ll be –’

‘If I ever have a fire I bet you’ll be the first to say it was an insurance scam!’ Gina retorted angrily. She flopped down onto the settee, lit another cigarette, threw her lighter down onto the coffee table and took a long, unhealthy drag. ‘And you should be doing something about that Reynolds’ family. Their music was blaring into the early hours again last weekend.’

‘I’ve come to chat to you, not take a complaint from you.’

‘So it’s all right for them to be ant-social, but not my family?’

Ignoring her, Josie sat on the armchair, first moving the pile of washing to one side.

‘Are the girls at school?’ she asked.

‘Of course they are.’ Gina folded her arms.

‘Were they over on Vincent Square on Tuesday evening?’

Gina cast her mind back to Tuesday. Ah, yes, the hair disaster day. Well, she’d be damned if she could remember anything after finishing off the whisky before starting on the lager – apart from the hangover the following day.

‘I’m not sure,’ she replied.

‘Mr Meredith from Christopher Avenue had his car trashed. Your girls were seen near to, as well as –’

‘You see, you’re blaming my girls already!’ She moved in closer to Josie.

‘No, I only want to talk,’ said Josie. ‘Things do seem to be getting out of hand with Rachel and Claire. And I’m not just talking about the damage to the car. There have been some really nasty catfights lately.’

‘That sounds more like it.’

Unexpectedly, Josie noticed a tear in Gina’s eye. She supposed it must get to her every now and then. How could it not do?

‘All I’m really bothered about is what it might lead to,’ she spoke softer now. ‘I’m sure you remember when Stacey Hunter ended up in juvenile detention and –’

‘My girls won’t end up
there
!’

‘If you let me finish, I was going to say since she’s gone, Rachel and Claire seem hell-bent on taking her place at the head of this stupid gang they’ve created. I heard they’ve been getting the other girls in their group to do initiation tests.’

‘That’s my girls.’ Gina couldn’t help but smile.

Josie ignored her sarcasm. ‘I’m actually more concerned about what will happen when Stacey gets out.’

Gina frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t you think there’s going to be trouble if she doesn’t get her place back at the helm? I doubt that Rachel and Claire will back down, so there may be what we’d call a turf war.’

‘A turf war? This isn’t exactly the east end of London!’

‘You know what I mean. Stacey Hunter is a nasty piece of work. Having a step father like Lenny Pickton means she’s grown up in a world of violence. She thought nothing of the attack she carried out that got her locked up in the first instance. If Rachel and Claire don’t watch their step, who knows how far things might escalate?’

‘My girls can hold their own.’

‘But what if they can’t?’ Josie paused. ‘It isn’t Rachel that I’d be worried about as much as Claire. She doesn’t seem as strong as her sister and if Stacey wants to make trouble when she comes out, you know she will. She won’t be bothered about going down again and she won’t be bothered about taking your girls with her.’

Gina finally caught on to Josie’s meaning. Christ, she didn’t want to lose the girls too, despite how much grief they caused her. She sat back with a sigh of resignation.

‘What can I do?’ she said. ‘Neither of them listens to me anymore.’

‘Can’t you try and talk to them?’ Josie urged. ‘I know it was a bad turn of phrase when I said a turf war but it’s highly likely if Stacey hears they’re trying to rule her out as coming back as their leader. I’m not sure the police will be able to stop them. They’re like animals when they get going.’

Gina frowned – that was her daughters she was referring to. But she realised that Josie meant no harm.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she told her.

‘Maybe Mr Bradley could have a word?’

‘Pete?’ Gina snorted as she reached for another cigarette. ‘He’s bloody hopeless. I’ll try and talk to them.’

Josie stood up. She looked at Gina with a heavy heart. Even though her family troubles were of her own making, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at times. No one would take any notice of Gina: Josie had seen it so many times on the estate. Her brood were too strong-willed. But she had to admire her for wanting to try. And she hoped that Rachel and Claire Bradley would take note of the bollocking their mother was about to dish out.

‘Will you two keep the din down in there?’ Ruth shouted through to the living room, almost making as much noise as Mason and Jamie combined. The screeching was getting on her nerves. They’d been playing soldier games for near on an hour now. She wished they would settle down and watch a DVD but there was no television set up yet. As it was, she only had the portable television that she’d had for years now. Although she’d paid towards the widescreen television at Martin’s house, there was no mention of it coming with her when he’d chucked them out.