Lost Angel (36 page)

But the girl had no bump, and she had called her by name, which made Cathy curious enough not to slam the door in her face.

‘I’m Angel,’ the girl told her.

‘Am I supposed to know you?’ Cathy asked, still eyeing her with suspicion.

‘I’m Johnny’s daughter,’ Angel elaborated. Then, frowning, she said, ‘Sorry, I thought this was Cathy Conroy’s house. I must have got the wrong number.’

Cathy felt a jolt, as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. ‘Wait!’ She pulled the door open and peered at the girl. ‘Why are you here? Has something happened to Johnny? Has he been hurt?’

‘No, he’s fine,’ Angel assured her.

‘Has he sent you?’

‘No. He doesn’t know I’m here.’

‘How old are you?’ Cathy asked. It was dangerous for a full-grown man to be out alone around these parts at night, never mind a slip of a girl.

‘Fifteen,’ Angel told her. She felt suddenly tearful again, and bit down hard on her lip. But it didn’t work.

‘Hey . . .’ Cathy reached out and patted Angel on the arm when she burst into tears. ‘What’s up?’

‘Can I come in?’ Angel sobbed. ‘I just – just need to s-sit down.’

Cathy cast a nervous glance out over the girl’s shoulder. Les had been out drinking all day and he could come back at any time. He didn’t like people coming round but he especially wouldn’t like it if he knew that the girl was connected with Johnny. He’d been furious when Cathy had questioned him about the alleged beatings after Johnny’s last visit and had banned her from ever mentioning his name again.

But, if this really was her grandchild, she couldn’t just leave her on the step in this state. So, against her better judgement, she said, ‘Come on in and have a cup of tea, love. But it’ll have to be quick, and then you’ll have to go. Okay?’

Angel nodded, and sniffed back her tears as she followed her grandmother inside. She didn’t know why she’d come, or what she’d expected this woman who had never laid eyes on her in her life before to say; but it had been the only place she could think of. And it had taken her ages to find it, because she’d only ever been to this area once before, when she’d been ten and her dad had driven her through the estate. He’d told her that this was where he had grown up, and had pointed out his old school and the houses of his old mates – and the block of flats where he and his mum had lived.

‘Can we go and see her?’ Angel had asked, curious to know about his side of the family because he never, ever talked about them. But he’d just said, ‘Maybe one day,’ and carried on driving.

She’d asked a few times after that, but he’d always said he was too busy, or too tired. Until, finally, he’d snapped, and said, ‘Look, we’re not going – not now, not ever. She didn’t give a toss about me when I needed her, and that’s all you need to know, so drop it.’

He’d never mentioned his mother since, and Angel hadn’t either. But she hadn’t forgotten and had sometimes toyed with the idea of coming to see this other grandmother. Now that she was actually here, it was nothing like she’d imagined. In her childish fantasies, her dad’s mum was a chubby, kind nan, with white hair, twinkly eyes and a loving smile, who welcomed Angel with open arms. But the reality couldn’t have been more different. This nan looked younger than the other one, but she was just as scrawny. Her jeans looked baggy on her stick-like legs, and the vertebrae of her spine stood out through the back of her jumper like a string of beads.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ Cathy apologised as she led Angel into the kitchen. ‘I’ve not been too well lately, so things have got a bit on top of me.

A bit?

Angel’s gaze flitted from the dirty plates heaped in the sink, to the foul-smelling bin, to the ledges covered in discarded microwave-meal boxes.

‘Sit down,’ Cathy said when she’d finished making the tea a couple of minutes later and turned back to find the girl still standing in the doorway.

‘Thanks,’ Angel murmured. She perched on the edge of one of the chairs.

Cathy put the cups down and went to the living room to get her cigarettes. ‘Smoke?’ she asked, offering one to Angel when she came back. She lit one for herself when the girl shook her head and said, ‘How did you find me?’

‘My dad drove me round here once,’ Angel told her. She rubbed her nose on the back of her hand. ‘When I was little.’

‘What, he brought you round to visit me?’ Cathy was shocked. It had been some twenty-odd years since she’d last seen him, and she still thought about him. But after their last argument she hadn’t heard from him – or of him – so it was sickening to think that he might have tried to build bridges and she had missed him.

‘No, he was just driving past and he pointed the block out to me,’ Angel told her.

‘Oh.’ Deflated, Cathy took another drag on her cigarette. ‘Is he all right, though?’

‘Yeah, fine.’

‘Still married?’

Angel nodded.

‘Working?’

Another nod. ‘He owns a car lot. It’s really nice.’

Cathy raised an eyebrow. So her son had done well for himself – that was good to hear. She’d always thought he had it in him, but there had been times when she’d despaired of him ever putting his talents to good use. Especially when he’d gone off the rails as a teenager. He could be so extreme: she’d thought that he would either end up running a bank or doing life for robbing one.

‘I hope you don’t mind me calling round like this,’ Angel asked. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d find you, but I asked a woman downstairs and she told me which number you lived at.’

‘Did she now?’ Cathy muttered, mentally cursing her big-mouthed neighbours for blabbing her private business to all and sundry. The girl could have been sent by a debt collector to track her down, for all they knew.

‘I’m sorry,’ Angel apologised, sensing that it wasn’t such a pleasant surprise. ‘I shouldn’t have come, but I had nowhere else to go.’

Cathy looked at her thoughtfully. If she’d had nowhere else to go before she came, where was she planning to go when she left?

‘You haven’t run away, have you?’ she asked.

Angel nodded, and lowered her gaze. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she murmured. ‘And my mum and dad want me to get rid of it.’

‘Pregnant?’ Cathy’s brow furrowed deeply. ‘I thought you said you were only fifteen?’

‘I’ll be sixteen in a few weeks,’ Angel told her, swiping at a fresh tear that was trickling down her cheek.

‘Oh, Jeezus, what a mess.’ Cathy sighed. ‘More kids having kids. Like there’s not enough neglected babies in the world.’

‘I’d never neglect my baby.’ Angel was indignant. ‘I’m going to be a really good mum.’

‘I’m sure you think so, love,’ Cathy said gently, ‘but it’s nowhere near as easy as you kids seem to think it is. Maybe you’d be better off going home, eh? Your mum and dad are obviously trying to do their best by you.’

‘My dad might be,’ Angel conceded. ‘But my mum and my nan just don’t want me to have it because they think they’ll have to pay for it. And my nan doesn’t want a black baby in the house,’ she added angrily.

‘I didn’t bring your dad up to be a racist,’ Cathy said disapprovingly.

‘He’s not,’ sniffed Angel. ‘It’s just her. She’s horrible. But I don’t care what she thinks. It’s who you are on the inside that counts, and Ryan’s lovely.’

Cathy smiled. This granddaughter of hers was a pretty girl, and obviously every bit as passionate as her dad had been when he was little. Cathy remembered how vehemently he’d defended his friends when she’d warned him off hanging around with them. She’d been right, because the buggers had deserted him without a second thought when he’d landed in trouble, but he’d refused to hear a word said against them.

Her smile slipped when she heard the sound of a key turning in the front door.

‘You’ll have to go,’ she told Angel quietly, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

But it was too late. Les was already walking into the kitchen.

‘What you doing in here?’ he demanded, a churlish edge to his voice, his breath ripe with alcohol. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve decided to clean up?’ He looked at the sink and sneered. ‘Shoulda known that’d be too much to ask.’ He lumbered over to the fridge and took out a can of beer, but just as he was about to tear off the tab he spotted Angel and a leering grin lifted his miserable lips.

‘Oh, hello . . . and who are you?’

‘She’s just going,’ Cathy told him, gesturing at Angel to get up.

‘What’s the rush?’ Les’s eyes were trawling over Angel’s body. ‘We haven’t even been introduced yet. I’m Les . . .’ He held out his hand.

Angel took it and gave him a nervous smile. It hadn’t occurred to her that she had a grandfather as well. Her dad had never mentioned him.

‘I’m Angel,’ she told him. ‘Your granddaughter.’

‘You what?’ Les snorted, drawing his head back and giving her a quizzical smile. ‘I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’ve got no kids, and if anyone’s trying to say different they’re lying.’

Cathy inhaled deeply. ‘She’s Johnny’s girl, Les. She’s in a spot of trouble and thought I might be able to help her. But I can’t, so she’s going.’

Les’s smirk had turned into a sneer at the mention of
that
name. But he didn’t blow up as Cathy had expected, he just looked Angel up and down and said, ‘Well, well, so the little bastard wasn’t completely useless, after all.’

‘Les, don’t,’ Cathy said quietly. ‘The past has got nothing to do with her. She’s just a kid.’

‘Sorry . . .’ Les held up his hands and staggered towards a chair. ‘You haven’t finished your tea,’ he said, glancing into Angel’s cup as he flopped down.

‘No, ’cos she’s going,’ Cathy said again. Les being this nice was almost as scary as him being nasty, and she didn’t like the way he was looking at the girl.

But Angel didn’t know him, so she just presumed it was the drink talking.

‘So, you’re Johnny’s girl?’ Les stared at her. ‘Well, well. Pretty, ain’t you? Take after your mam, do you, pet?’

‘Not really,’ Angel murmured, flicking a curious glance at her grandmother who was hovering behind him, wringing her hands.

‘Les, she really needs to go,’ Cathy said. ‘You’ve got a bus to catch, haven’t you, love?’

Les saw the gleam of fresh tears flooding the girl’s eyes and narrowed his own. ‘Is something going on here that youse are not telling me?’ he asked. ‘The buses don’t run round here at this time of night.’

‘No, she’s going to have to walk down to the quadrant,’ Cathy lied. ‘That’s why she needs to get going.’

‘Sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of her,’ Les said perceptively. ‘Hope that ain’t because of me? ’Cos if it is, there’s no need. I’ve got no problem with her.’

‘It’s all right,’ Angel told them, sensing that her grandmother didn’t really want her here. ‘I should go.’

Cathy looked at her guiltily. ‘Will you be okay?’

‘Woman, it’s twelve in the morning,’ Les berated her. ‘You can’t send her out there on her own – she could get raped, or anything. Let her stop here for the night.’ He looked at Angel now. ‘You wanna stop here for the night, pet?’

‘I, er, should probably go,’ she murmured.

‘Where?’ he asked. ‘Thought you were in trouble?’

‘A bit,’ Angel admitted, squirming in her seat. She knew the man was drunk, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that was making her feel uncomfortable.

‘She’s pregnant,’ Cathy told him, hoping that information would be enough to take the leer out of his eyes. ‘And she’s only fifteen.’

‘And your dad’s letting you walk around at this time of night on your own?’ Les gave a disapproving shake of his head. ‘Well, don’t you worry about a thing, pet. Me and your gran will look after you. There’s a spare bed, and you’re welcome to it.’

‘Really?’ Angel looked from him to Cathy. ‘I’ll go first thing in the morning.’

‘You stop as long as you like, pet.’ Les gave her a sly grin. ‘Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty little thing like you to keep me company over breakfast.’

30

Ryan arrived home at half past midnight. After losing his job with Johnny, he’d been forced to take a part-time job collecting glasses at a bar in town, and he absolutely hated it. The pay was shit, and the work was dirty. Not to mention dangerous when the idiot students got bladdered and started chucking glasses around and fighting among themselves. But his dad had started making noises about sending his mum back out on the streets after his savings had run out, so he had no choice but to stick it out.

Exhausted now, having been run off his feet all night, he groaned when he glanced out of the kitchen window as he was pouring himself a glass of water and saw Johnny’s car pulling up outside.

Johnny was already out of the car and banging on the door with his fist by the time Ryan reached it. Ryan guessed that he was in for another going-over and steeled himself for a kicking before opening up. But Johnny didn’t go for him, he just barged past and marched into the kitchen.

‘What are you looking for?’ Ryan asked when Johnny saw that nobody was in there and headed for the living room.

‘Where is she?’ Johnny demanded, flicking the light on.

‘Who?’ Ryan whispered as he followed him back out into the hall. ‘Johnny – Mr Conroy . . . my mum and dad are in bed. You’ll wake them up.’

‘Tell me where she is, then,’ Johnny ordered as he set off up the stairs.

‘That’s my kid brother and sister’s room,’ Ryan hissed when Johnny reached the first bedroom.

Johnny ignored him and pushed the door open. He jerked his head back when the smell of warm piss assailed his nostrils. He peered into the room. A small girl was sleeping in a single bed, and a baby was flat out in a cot, but there was no one else in there.

He moved to the next room and switched the light on. The bed looked empty, but he pulled the quilt off to make absolutely sure and felt the mattress to see if it was still warm. It was cold, but Johnny still wasn’t convinced that nobody had been in it. So he looked under it and then checked the wardrobe before yanking the curtains open and peering down into the dark back garden.

‘Where is she?’ he demanded again, turning back to Ryan who was watching from the doorway. ‘And don’t fuck around with me, son, ’cos she’s not at Lisa’s, so she must be here.’