New Reality 2: Justice (19 page)

As the violence played out on the screen, Marie's vision blurred; it could be them very soon. She wrapped her hands around the steaming cup of coffee and her mind retreated from the situation.

Chapter Thirty

When GG waved, it pulled Marie from her grim thoughts. After snapping her hands away from her hot mug, Marie stared down. A swollen throb pulsed through them.
How did she not notice the burn?
A shake of her head and she rubbed her face before looking at GG. "Huh?"

Concern creased GG's brow. "Are you okay? That's about the
tenth
time I've called your name."

Despite the sting on her clammy palms, Marie rubbed her face again. "Sorry," she nodded at the now blank screen in their booth, "that report threw me."
What should she tell GG? How far could she afford to let her into her world? She knew about Frankie, so what else was there to hide?
"I was on that train with the boy yesterday."

GG's eyes widened. "You were there?"

"Yeah. It was on the way to work. He wasn't a terrorist; he was someone from the estate that needed to get to work on time so he didn't lose his job. He had a baby and partner to care for. Getting on the train was his only chance to get there." Marie started to shake. "I'm so scared I'm going to end up on the estate."

"I feel for you, darling. It's horrible the way the people from the estate are treated." After a pause, she added, "We were robbed by people from the estate when I was a child."

"God, that must have been terrible; I'm not saying they're
all
innocent, you understand."

"No, they're not, but I get why they did it. There were four of them and they wore masks. When they came in, we were all sitting on the sofa watching television. The first we knew of it was when we heard the sound of splintering wood as our front door was kicked in."

As Marie watched GG drift back into the memory of that day, she held her stomach, the baby shifting at her touch.

"They told us to stay where we were. The fact that men had burst into our house wearing masks and carrying bats should have scared the life out of me."

"It didn't?"

GG shook her head. "No. They all spoke softly. They were kind. They said they didn't want to hurt us. They even asked which items had sentimental value and couldn't be replaced. At first, Dad thought they would take the things we listed, but they left it all. One of the men even came downstairs with my dolly and gave it to me. I remember him saying that she was scared and I should look after her. He must have had children himself. When I think about those men, I think about the families that never got to see them again."

"Like the family of the boy from yesterday," Marie said. "The police dragged him from the train, and I can't see any way he would have survived the beating they gave him on the platform." The familiar weight of depression tugged on Marie's frame. Some days it felt like remaining upright was an accomplishment and life was one long, uphill climb. Despite having never met the boy's baby and partner, she knew them well. Hell, she
was
them. "So what happened?"

While running her finger around the rim of her mug, GG stared into the distance. "The police were waiting outside. We later found out that our neighbour had called them. The second the men left, they were set upon. I had nightmares for months about the kicking I saw them take. I've been petrified of the police ever since." The usual vibrancy had left GG's eyes when she looked back up.

A sip of her strong coffee and Marie said, "How did society get to this point?"

GG shrugged.
 

"It amazes me every day that Frankie managed to get off the estate," Marie said. "I don't know how he did it."

The glow returned to GG's face. "It's some feat. He must be a special man. It must give you hope that you'll get through this."

"Yeah, it does. He's very practical, although his upbringing has stayed with him."

"What do you mean?"

"He's cold, emotionally. Sometimes he gets lost inside his own head for days and no one can coax him out. It's hard—especially when life gets tough like it is at the moment. I can see he tries his best, but some days, he's unreachable. There are also times, like when we talk about the estate, when he gets really cross with me. Because I haven't lived there, it's like he thinks I can't understand how bad it is. But I can see how terrible it is. Sure, I haven't lived there, but I'm
scared
to end up there too."
 

When GG didn't reply, Marie spoke again, her words sticking in her throat. "I know he loves me." Hot tears leaked from her eyes. "I just wish it felt like we were working together more often. I feel like we both hold so much back from one another. I'm certainly keeping things from him."

It was obvious that GG was curious about what Marie was hiding, but she didn't ask. Instead, she let her talk.

Marie fanned her face and forced a laugh. "Listen to me; I'm worried about our connection when we may be homeless in a couple of weeks."

"Connection's important when you have to go through stressful situations."

The world around Marie was lost to the blur of tears. After a deep breath, she wiped them away and sat up straight. Maybe she could tell GG about her plan. "I think I have a way to stop it from getting to that, but it involves getting more information from Doug."

The deep green of GG's eyes looked from one of Marie's to the other. "I was going to ask you about that. I knew you were up to something with him. It looks like a dangerous game from where I'm sitting."

A hot flush spread across Marie's cheeks and she looked down at her coffee. "It's been that obvious?"

"What going on, Marie?"

This was the moment. After this point, there would be no going back. Tell GG, and she was putting her full trust in her. Nothing had happened since they'd last met up. No one had come to see her because she was fraternising with co-workers. No one seemed to know she was pregnant. If GG had wanted to rat her out, surely she would have done it by now. There was compassion on GG's face, not malicious intent. All Marie had was her gut instinct. "I think I have a way to get the twenty-five thousand credits for marriage from Doug."

GG's jaw fell loose.

***

After Marie explained what she saw in the prison, GG sank back into her seat and ran a hand through her hair. "So you're sure he showed you and the government workers the same ward twice?"

"Yeah, and he claimed it was a different ward. He's hiding something; I'm certain of it. I just need to find out what that something is so I can use it against him. Sure, flirting with him makes my skin crawl, especially when he gets a bit too up close and personal, but it's also when his tongue loosens the most. He's stupid enough to reveal his cards sooner or later, but not so stupid that I don't have to tread lightly around him."

"So what have you got out of him so far?"

"Nothing concrete. I mean, I've seen his reaction when I mentioned the wards looking the same, and he's been quite defensive if I've asked too many questions."

"You need to be careful, Marie."

"I know." A palpitation shook her heart. "But it's not like I have all the time in the world. Flirting with him makes me feel sick." Marie's bottom lip buckled. "But I'm desperate, GG."

It looked like GG was close to crying too, her eyes glistening with sadness. "I know, darling." She reached over and held Marie's hands. "It's a scary time at the moment. Don't worry, we'll get through this."

Chapter Thirty-One

When Marie stepped out of the train station, she looked up and down Station Road, and a low level of anxiety simmered in her guts. The first time she came here was when she had met up with GG and witnessed the run-in between the police officer and the man from the estate. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the thoughts of that man from her mind.
Was he okay? Did he still have a job? Had the police caught up with him again?

Was it a risk coming here?
There may have been a laundromat closer to her home. How was she to know, though? She never used them. With her washing machine broken, she had to take her bag of dirty laundry somewhere. It wasn't a stretch for her to come here. She didn’t know how long it would take Frankie to find the dislodged fuse, but it was long enough for her to have left the house. It was the perfect cover up.

Not much had happened to Marie in the few days since she'd been on Station Road last. After meeting GG for a second time in the cafe and telling her what she knew about Doug, she went home, slept, worked, slept, and worked. The only thing out of the ordinary was Doug's unusually low profile; it had been nearly a week since their meal at Zampanó's, and she hadn't seen him since.

As Marie walked in the direction of the laundromat, the thick August humidity made her chest tight, and the surrounding air clung to her like a wetsuit. Slow steps did little to prevent her from sweating, and she was so thirsty her saliva had turned to a sticky paste. Was this the worst August ever because she was pregnant, or had it really been that hot? People had complained about it, but people always complained. Whatever the case, at least her third trimester would be in the winter.
How did other women cope in the heat?
Then again, most women probably weren't strapped up like burlesque dancers while being over twenty weeks pregnant.

Marie slipped a finger beneath the bottom of her corset and scratched her clammy skin. The itch was worse than ever. At the end of every day, when she finally took the cursed thing off, her skin was red raw. Even bathing was painful now. Some days she felt so bad she wanted to claw her own skin off.

***

Once she arrived at the laundromat, Marie stopped at the front door and looked up and down the street again. An irregular tempo took control of her heart, and she took deep breaths to try and settle it.
Was this too risky? Did she really need the unwanted attention from the police if they thought she was a sympathiser?
But she'd come all this way; it would kill her if she didn't follow through and find out what had happened to the man. Besides, she was just about to walk into a laundromat with a bag of washing, so it was hardly suspicious behaviour.

Another step forwards and the automatic door slid open to the accompaniment of a recording of a tinkling bell. A few of the workers glanced up, but most carried on with their duties—again, nothing unusual about her behaviour at all.

As the door closed behind her, the humidity of the laundromat enveloped her. The outside seemed positively arid by comparison and she started sweating harder than before. If her corset was much tighter, she'd probably slip from it like a wet bar of soap.
 

With the musty chemical taste of damp and detergent filling her mouth, Marie walked over to a machine and put her bag of washing on the side. The place reeked so badly of stale sweat, it was hard to imagine any clothes coming out of there fresh.
 

The laundromat was one of the places reserved for the privileged poor. Most people either had washing machines or lived on the estate. The laundromat served that small demographic that were in neither camp, a demographic Marie had joined by choice today. It was why there was no air conditioning, no padded seats, and no free tea or coffee. These places were run to be as cheap for the consumer as possible.

All Marie had to do was dump her washing into the machine and it would do the rest. The clothes passed through several compartments on their different cycles, separating them as was needed and returning them all pressed and ironed. Despite the simplicity of the technology, estate labour was so cheap that the laundromat still hired people to do the work.

A scan of the room showed Marie there were at least two workers for every machine. The clientele all looked as tired as she did. They dressed differently enough so they didn't look like they belonged on the estate, but none of them were preened to the level of Kitty Trollope and her band of socialites. Lethargy hung in the hot air and dripped off these people's worn features. Life was a struggle, even for the privileged poor. Although, if someone offered Marie that struggle now as a way to guarantee she didn't end up on the estate, she'd rip their arm off. Damn straight she would take it; counting pennies and watching what you ate was much easier than being bullied and oppressed by the government.

A helper appeared at her side and a pang ran through her chest. It was the man from the other day. Purple bruising painted his features, but he was okay. He was back at work and it looked like there hadn't been any further problems.
Thank god, he was okay.

With his attention on the washing machine, he loaded it up and spoke from the side of his mouth. "Thank you for saving me the other day. I hadn't done anything wrong, but there was no way I would have got away if you hadn't intervened. You saved my life."

A hot rush stung her eyeballs and Marie didn't respond for a moment. It was hard to keep her voice low with the lump in her throat, even after she cleared it. "And how are you now?"

Before he could answer, the ring of the bell signalled the arrival of another customer. Marie's heart sank when she looked over at the doorway and six police officers strode in. What were they doing here? Every estate worker in the place tensed up and stared at the floor.

A quick scan of the faces showed Marie none of them was the boy officer from the other day.
What a relief! Surely, they were here for some other reason.

The one clearly in charge flashed his badge and addressed the room. "Please don't panic." With a tablet in his hand, he spun it around to show a mug shot of a man from the estate. It was the man filling Marie's machine. "We're here to find a worker that resisted arrest the other day."

Marie looked across at the man next to her. The instruction for him to run nestled in her throat. If she created a distraction, it would give him the chance to go out the back. He may lose his job, but he'd still have his life. Instead, she said nothing.

In a matter of seconds, the officer in charge pointed at the man. "You!"