Somewhere to Hide (The Estate, Book 1) (3 page)

But Cathy shook her head. ‘There’s no need. I’ll be fine. Besides, have I ever let down a sister in distress?’

‘I’m sure Liz will be grateful.’

‘I meant helping you out, you dope,’ Cathy smiled.

‘Shit!’

Cathy ended the phone call and sighed in spectacular fashion. Not only was Josie’s request about to end her peace and quiet, but it seemed there was a sixteen-year-old girl in need of her help too. Jess was going to be furious.

Seventeen-year-old Jess Myatt had been with Cathy for near on a year now. She’d managed to keep her at school for the last few months of her final year but since then Jess had been reluctant to get a job. Cathy kept encouraging her to enrol for college in September but Jess wasn’t keen. Well, what chance did she stand nowadays with so many skilled workers on the dole? She’d come away from school without an exam to her name, in steep competition with a lot of her friends who had achieved nothing either. And, as she rightly said over and over, who would take her on? There were only so many small back street shops and factories that would employ cheap labour.

To Cathy’s mind, someone older than Jess coming to the house, and with a young child, would take away the top spot she’d gained due to the length of time she’d been here. Cathy had to be prepared mentally for the inevitable ructions that the next few days would bring. She had to prepare Jess too. It wouldn’t be fair to blame everything on her, despite her big woman attitude.

‘Jess.’ Cathy knocked on the bedroom door before entering. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Jesus, Cath. It’s only quarter to ten,’ a voice could be heard from beneath the duvet. ‘What do you want?’

Cathy drew back the bedroom curtains, staring out onto the street for a second before turning back. ‘I’ve had a couple of calls today. One from PC Baxter and one from –’

‘There’s someone coming to stay, isn’t there?’ The duvet was pulled back to reveal her scowl.

‘Yes,’ Cathy replied. ‘But it’s not someone. There are three people.’

‘Three!’

Jess had the face of a cherub, innocent and fresh, but the temper of a devil. She sat up in bed, short, red hair sticking up everywhere.

‘I’ve had more than this before, and I’ll do it again if I have to,’ said Cathy.

‘But –’

She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘There are no buts. We have other people coming to stay. You don’t have the monopoly on me, even though it seems like you’ve been here forever now.’

‘If things carry on the way they are,’ Jess retorted, getting out of bed, ‘it looks like I’ll be moving out anyway.’ She pushed past Cathy. Moments later, the bathroom door slammed.

Cathy flinched at the bang and sighed. She wasn’t really worried. They’d been in this situation many times over the months: Jess always came around eventually. But it wasn’t pleasant to witness her reaction.

When it was clear that she wasn’t going to run back and put her point across more poignantly, Cathy pulled the duvet from the floor and back onto the bed. Not yet ten o’clock and already she could feel a headache coming on. No wonder she felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders at times. And if past experiences were anything to go by, three people arriving at the same time meant a whole raft of problems coming with them. Life wasn’t going to be quiet for the foreseeable future.

‘Hi, Cathy!’ Josie’s voice rang out with false brightness as she stood on the doorstep less than three hours after her last visit. ‘I’m so sorry to put pressure on you, but you know this game by now. Like buses: there isn’t one for ages and then two at the same time – or rather, three. This is Becky Ward. Please say that Andy has warned you to expect her.’

‘Yes, he rang about an hour ago. Hi, Becky.’

Cathy held the front door wide open and ushered the two women inside. They went through to the kitchen.

Cathy pushed Becky gently down into a chair and tilted up her chin. ‘Lovely blue eyes you have there but I can’t see them for the swelling. You’ve got a great shiner coming too. What did you do to get that?’

‘Nothing.’ Becky jerked her head away.

‘She was caught shoplifting at Shop&Save last night, over on Vincent Square,’ said Josie. ‘Andy – PC Baxter, I mean – tried to caution her but she legged it and gave him the slip. He spotted her again just after six this morning when he went back on duty. She was walking up Davy Road.’

‘I can speak for myself,’ Becky muttered before folding her arms.

Cathy didn’t doubt that for a second. She also reckoned that Becky would clam up the moment any awkward questions were asked of her.

‘Have you eaten?’ she enquired.

Becky shook her head.

‘Would you like some toast? And a cup of tea?’

Becky shook her head again. Then she changed her mind and nodded slightly.

Josie checked her watch. ‘No tea for me, Cathy. I’ve got an appointment in ten minutes. No rest for the wicked, I suppose. Can I leave Becky in your capable hands while I make enquiries?’

‘Enquiries?’ Becky’s eyes widened and she sat up straight. ‘What kind of enquiries?’

‘To see where you can stay. Cathy can help for now but we have a duty of care to put you somewhere more permanent. You’re sure you can’t go home?’

‘Yes! I’m never going back.’

Cathy’s heart went out to the young girl sitting at her table. Becky Ward might be sixteen but she had the look of a middle-aged woman who’d seen more than her fair share of worry. Her skin was pale, except for the odd blemish and group of spots. Wavy, blonde hair rested halfway down her back, looking in desperate need of a good shampoo. Yet, other than the mud stains on the knees of her jeans, her clothes were clean. She didn’t look like she had been on the streets for long.

Cathy glanced around. ‘Haven’t you got a bag?’ she asked. ‘Or anything to call your own?’

‘She’s only got the clothes she’s in now,’ Josie explained when Becky didn’t. ‘No possessions, no bags, no spare knickers and toothbrush.’

‘It might be your lucky day.’ Cathy smiled warmly at Becky. ‘You can stay for a while, if you like?’

Becky shrugged.

‘I thought you could speak for yourself,’ she teased, nudging her playfully. Then she looked up at Josie. ‘Leave her with me. She can have the room next to Jess.’

‘You’re a godsend!’

Cathy turned back to Becky once Josie had left. ‘I’ll tell you the same as I tell everyone else when they come to stay. I’m here for you if ever you need me. But there are certain rules that I like to be kept. Break them too often and you’re out. Understand?’

Becky began to cry. Cathy pulled up a chair and waited until her tears slowed and her body stopped shaking so much. Then she reached across the table to a box of tissues, pulled out a couple and handed them to Becky.

‘I always find a good cry helps me feel better,’ she told her.

‘I’m so screwed.’ Becky blew her nose loudly. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘About what?’

‘Everything.’

Cathy smiled at her theatrical tone. ‘Have you fallen out with your parents?’

‘No.’

‘Brother? Sister?’

‘No.’

‘That’s the reason why most young girls end up here. Take Jess, for instance. Her mother kicked her out because she couldn’t cope with her mood swings. She’s a feisty soul but treat her like an adult and she’s not much to handle. I suppose your mother thought the same of you, hmm?’

‘My mum’s dead.’

‘Oops. Trust me and my big mouth. I’m not known for my tact.’ Cathy decided to change the subject. ‘Where’s that accent of yours from? Manchester?’

Becky nodded. ‘Salford.’

‘So why Stockleigh?’

‘It was the first bus that left from the station on Saturday. I – I didn’t know where to go really.’

‘Was that when you left home? On Saturday?’

‘No, eleven days ago. I stayed around Salford but I started to get pestered by this creepy guy.’

‘Don’t worry. You’re safe here for now.’ Cathy didn’t want to push Becky into too much talk so early on. She knew it was vital that she gained the girl’s trust as soon as possible but prying too deep too quickly was one lesson she’d learnt during her first few months taking young girls in. She ran her right hand subconsciously over the scar on her left. Sarah Draycott had taken a pair of scissors to her after she’d asked her one question too many.

‘You would have been better going south of Manchester rather than north,’ she continued. ‘This estate wouldn’t have been my first choice – not my choice at all, actually.’

The Mitchell Estate consisted of 1,500 houses. Some were owner-occupied, some were rented from the local authority and the majority of the remaining ones belonged to Mitchell Housing Association. It was split down the middle by a main road, Davy Road. Known locally as The Mitch, the bottom half of the estate housed families who tried hard to keep their properties respectable. Gardens were tended, rubbish put in the bins, their cars were taxed and parked in their drives or by the kerbside. Tenants usually felt safe popping to the shop for a loaf of bread. Some of the neighbours greeted each other with a wave and a nod. Most of them watched out for each other when strangers were on the prowl.

The top of the estate, however, had a reputation for being the worst place in the city to live. It was referred to as The Hell. There the cars were lucky to have any wheels left in the morning. Abandoned vehicles on the lawns were more prominent than garden shrubs. Rubbish was piled up in the middle of the roads and tenants fought to be heard over the thud, thud of the music – that’s if they weren’t fighting among themselves. Neighbours would rob you before they’d ask how you were. Even the stray dogs wandered around in threes.

Becky went quiet and Cathy relented. ‘It’s not that bad, I suppose. It’s just that I’ve been born and bred here. The place is ripe with the usual social housing problems – drugs, fighting, single mums with no control of their kids, thieving. You don’t ever go to Vincent Square after dark by yourself or you’re asking for trouble. Other than that, it’s a great place to live.’ She forced a smile. ‘You could have done much worse, though.’

Becky looked like she was going to cry again so Cathy stood up and opened the key cupboard. ‘Your room is number two. It’s the smallest one I have but it’ll be fine. You don’t have to use it but if you feel safer that way, it’s up to you. If you leave during the day, the key stays here, understand? You need to be in by eleven: midnight at the weekend if by prior arrangement.’ She paused. ‘I know Josie asked this but I’m going to ask again, while she’s not here. Is there any chance of you going back home at any time?’

Becky shook her head. Cathy knew she wasn’t going to get any more talk out of her. The girl needed some space. There were bound to be a lot more tears before the day was out.

‘Right then,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you settled. I bet you could do with a bath and a sleep. I’ll introduce you to Jess later. She’s stormed off out so you’ll have a bit of peace and quiet while she’s not here. But be warned. The minute she’s back, she’s bound to create an atmosphere. She’s really good at it.’

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning, Liz McIntyre woke up in unfamiliar surroundings. Disorientated, she sat up quickly before flopping back down on the bed. The room at Cathy Mason’s house was welcoming, its walls painted a calming lavender. Besides the double bed she and Chloe were in, there was a wardrobe, a dressing table and an old school chair on the far wall. Cathy had added a small blue vase filled with white carnations but other than that and a couple of framed paintings, the room was sparse. Yet although she didn’t relish the thought of sleeping with Chloe every night, Liz was grateful for any bed away from the hostel they’d stayed in the night before.

She turned her head slightly to check on Chloe. She was asleep for now but had woken up three times during the night, screaming out about a monster coming to get her. Liz hoped she hadn’t woken anyone else: she’d tried to calm her quickly each time. Yet as Chloe had drifted off after each occasion, soothed by her mum’s arms, it had taken ages for Liz to drift off again afterwards.

She stared at her daughter, her gentle snores the only sound in the room. Sometimes Liz had so much love in her heart for Chloe that it frightened her. How was she going to protect her? Maybe they could stay away from Kevin long enough for him to move on without them.

But she knew her wishes were futile. How could she think she could escape from his clutches, just like that? Then again, other women got away, didn’t they?

Wide awake now, she slipped out of the bedroom and went downstairs. It was six thirty: no one would be awake this early, surely?

But Cathy was already in the kitchen. She smiled when she saw her. 

‘Morning. Did you sleep much last night?’

‘A little.’

‘And Chloe?’

‘On and off.’ Liz thought better of sharing the story of the nightmares. ‘I thought I’d come downstairs, make a cup of tea and go back before she wakes. Do you always get up this early?’

‘Yep.’ Cathy closed the washer door quietly and reached for the powder. ‘It’s always the bloody same, isn’t it? When I was younger I never wanted to get out of bed when the alarm clock went off at six for work. Now I don’t even use an alarm clock.’