The Ladykiller (31 page)

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Authors: Martina Cole

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense

BOOK: The Ladykiller
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‘I don’t want to finish with you, Kate.’

His voice was soft and low.

‘I don’t want to stop seeing you either, Pat.’

She wasn’t sure she could stop now, even if she wanted to.

‘When is she home?’

‘Tomorrow, I could have taken her tonight, you know, being a DI. But I didn’t trust myself, Pat, I thought I might harm her if she was with me while I felt like this.’

‘Why did you come to me?’ It was a low whisper.

‘Because I trust you, I suppose.’

He smiled and pulled her to her feet. ‘Come on.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘I’m going to run you a nice bath, Katie, and I’m going to soap your body personally, every nook and cranny. Then I am going to lay you on my bed and stroke every care and worry from your mind. Then when madam gets home tomorrow, you’ll be in a fit frame of mind to see her and get this sorted out once and for all.’

He pulled Kate to the bottom of the staircase and she dragged her hand from his.

‘Oh, Pat, what am I going to do? What with the case and everything, and now all this with Lizzy . . .’ Her voice trailed off and Patrick took her hand once more.

‘Just you bear in mind that you’ve got me now, Kate, and you’ll have me for as long as you want me. I’m here for you whenever you need someone.’

It was said simply and sincerely and Kate followed him up the stairs gladly. For the first time in years she had someone she could rely on. It was a heady feeling.

‘After the bath, we can have a good old chat. That’s what you really need, you know. Someone who’s not too close to the source of the problem.’

Kate followed him up the stairs. She had left Dan packing and her mother had retired to her bedroom. Kate had felt she could not stay in that house a moment longer. She had found cannabis as well as amphetamines in her daughter’s room. What Patrick said made sense. She needed a real shoulder to cry on.

It was not until much later, after her bath and with Patrick snoring softly beside her, that she realised the implications of her visit to Patrick Kelly.

The irony of it all was not lost on her. But she leant up on her elbow and looked down into his face and knew the truth of it.

She was falling hopelessly in love with the man. And it felt good. Very, very good.

She pictured Lizzy as a small child. Her white socks and sandals pristine on her little feet. Her Holly Hobby dress ironed to crisp perfection. Her long dark hair brushed like burnished jet. It was her first day at school. Kate had been so proud of her. What had happened to make her daughter take drugs? When had Lizzy grown away from her?

She felt the anguished tears of motherhood blur her vision and blinked them away. She was done with crying. Patrick was right, she must build bridges now with Lizzy. Try and make some good come out of all this badness.

Patrick turned over and his arm settled across her stomach. It felt good, it felt right. She felt safe.

Kissing the dark head beside her, she settled down. Not to sleep, that was a long way away, but to think and plan. The initial shock and fury were gradually disappearing; now she needed a plan of action and would concentrate her energies on that.

Somewhere, at some time, she had missed some vital step with Lizzy. It was up to her to rectify that as best she could. And rectify it she would.

Snuggling into Patrick, she closed her eyes and let the memories drift in front of her closed lids.

The only thing she forgot to wonder was how Lizzy was going to feel about everything.

It was a mistake she would soon regret.

 

Kate felt the eyes of the desk sergeant boring into the back of her head as she signed the papers for her daughter’s release. She made her way to the cells with a heavy heart. The fact that Lizzy had been nicked was the talk of the station, she knew that. She passed Amanda Dawkins who smiled at her sympathetically. Kate looked away. As the cell was unlocked she held her breath. Lizzy was sitting cross-legged on a mattress on the floor. Her make-up was smeared over her face and her hair was a mass of tangles. She looked defiantly into her mother’s face as the door opened.

‘So you’ve come then?’

Kate swallowed deeply. ‘Get up, Lizzy.’

The girl pulled herself from the mattress and stood with one hand on her hip, in an aggressive pose. The duty officer shook his head in wonder. If she was his daughter he’d give her a smack she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

‘Come on, get your things, we’re going home.’ Kate’s voice was low. She turned to the duty officer, a man called Higgins. He was nearly fifty and Kate could see the pity in his eyes.

‘Has she eaten?’

‘Not a thing, love, but we made her drink the orange juice. It brings them down you know, the Vitamin C.’

‘Yeah, I know. Come on, let’s get out of here.’

‘I want Dad to come and get me.’ This was said through gritted teeth.

‘He can’t come so you’ll have to make do with me. Now come on, Liz, I’m not in the mood for games.’

Lizzy sneered, then sat back down again. ‘I’ll just have to wait for Dad then, won’t I?’

‘You’re coming home with me now, Lizzy.’

She grinned annoyingly. ‘I’m going to do whatever I want, Mum. I’m through with you and Gran always telling me what you want, what you expect me to be . . .’

Kate felt herself reddening. She tried desperately to control her voice.

‘We can talk about this at home, Lizzy. This is neither the time nor the place.’

‘Really? Funny that, because you seem to spend enough time here. I’d have thought this was the place for you, Mum, more than anywhere else.’

‘I’m telling you for the last time, Liz, get up and let’s go home. We can talk this through, make some sense out of it.’

Lizzy laughed out loud, her mouth wide with mirth. ‘That’s about right for you, isn’t it? Let’s analyse everything. Let’s find the hidden meaning in everything. Oh, fuck off, Mum. You sound like a bad play!’

Kate spoke between clenched teeth to the duty officer. ‘Would you leave us alone, please?’

The man had been so embarrassed he had been pretending to study the graffiti on the cell walls. He rushed from the cell, shutting the door behind him. He liked Kate Burrows a lot. She was a nice woman, a good DI; to see her shamed like that was terrible.

Mother and daughter stared at one another and Kate was aware that it was now a battle of nerves between them. For some reason Lizzy was enjoying this. She was not contrite or sorry or any of the things she should have been. In fact, it seemed as if she was actually enjoying it. Where, oh where, was the daughter of two days ago? Where was the girl with the ready smile and the laughing face? It was as if she was seeing a stranger, a stranger with her daughter’s face and body. A body that had been well used, judging by the diary she had found.

‘What’s all this really about, Lizzy? Come on, tell me.’ She stood up and walked to the back of the cell. Her hair was in her eyes and she brushed it away impatiently.

‘I want Dad.’

‘Well, your dad isn’t here, I am. And if necessary, Lizzy, I am going to take you out of here by force.’

She laughed again.

‘I’d like to see you try!’

It was said in a tone of such contempt that Kate felt something inside her break. She walked across the room and, grabbing her daughter’s long hair, yanked her towards the cell door. It took every bit of strength that she possessed.

Lizzy, though, was not having any of it. She brought her fist round and punched her mother in the shoulder. Kate felt the blow, and swinging Lizzy round to face her, slapped her hard across the face, sending the girl flying to the corner of the cell.

Both were breathing heavily.

‘Get up, Lizzy, now, before I really lose my rag! Get up, I said!’ The last sentence echoed around the small cell.

Kate walked towards her daughter and Lizzy scrambled to her feet.

‘You are coming home with me now, and if you so much as open that foul mouth of yours, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life.’

Something in her mother’s voice told Lizzy that she meant it. Kate grabbed the shoulder of her daughter’s tee-shirt and dragged her to the cell door. She banged on it with her free hand and it was opened by Higgins. Kate then marched the girl along the cell row, through the desk sergeant’s office and out of the building to the car park. She threw Lizzy in the car. Getting into the driver’s seat, she started the engine.

‘You’d better have a good reason for all this, Lizzy, because I want to know exactly what’s going on with you.’

With that she drove out of the station and home. Neither of them said a word more.

 

Evelyn desperately wanted to clean up Lizzy’s room for her but Kate had forbidden her to touch it. She sat on the bed looking at the utter chaos around her. Pictures of Lizzy as a child were everywhere. She shook her head. If anyone had told her that her granddaughter was on drugs she would have laughed in their face.

‘Not my Lizzy,’ she would have said. But now the truth was facing her and it was like gall. That beautiful girl was ruining her life, was breaking her family apart - for drugs.

From what Kate had told her Lizzy had been on amphetamines for a couple of years. She shook her head. Standing up, she looked around the familiar room. How many times had she come to tuck Lizzy in when she had been small? Kissed the soft skin of her face? Brushed the long hair till it gleamed?

She walked to the window and looked out into the dull afternoon light. That was when she saw the diary. It was a girl’s diary, with birds and flowers painted on a pale green silk background. Evelyn opened it up idly and began to read.

She was still reading when Kate and Lizzy arrived. Kate had to pull the girl from the car and practically drag her up the garden path to the house. Opening the door, she pushed her daughter inside.

Lizzy walked into the front room and through to the kitchen where she began to make herself a cup of coffee as if nothing had happened. Kate pulled her coat off and put it on the banisters. She followed her daughter through to the kitchen.

‘Right then, I want to know everything that’s been happening. I want to know where you got the drugs, who from, and who you took them with.’

Lizzy poured milk into her cup.

‘That, Mother, is none of your business.’

Kate pushed her hands through her hair.

‘I’m not going to argue all day, Lizzy, I mean it. I want some answers and I want them now.’

Lizzy faced her mother and crossed her arms over her breasts. ‘That’s you all over that is. “I want some answers and I want them now.” Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I’m your daughter not a bloody suspect.’

‘That, madam, is just where you’re wrong. As far as I’m concerned at this particular moment in time you’re both those things. You are suspected of dealing in drugs, Lizzy. You were at a known dealer’s house, so where exactly does that leave you? I found drugs in your bedroom. I also found your diary. So I know I’m not dealing with Snow White here.’

Lizzy turned to the kettle and poured boiling water into the mug.

‘I don’t need this at the moment, Mum, I’ve had a terrible night. Maybe later I might feel like discussing it.’

Kate watched in amazement as Lizzy stirred her coffee. Her long fingers gripped the spoon so tightly her knuckles were white. Kate looked at the womanly figure in the jeans and T-shirt. She wasn’t even wearing a bra. The T-shirt was stained and crumpled. Her hair was like rats tails and she just stood there making herself a cup of coffee. Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours Kate wondered what on earth had happened to her child.

Evelyn had been in the front room listening to the exchange. Now she walked into the kitchen as Lizzy sat at the breakfast bar and threw the diary in front of her.

‘I have seen a lot of things in my life, Elizabeth Burrows, but I never thought to see this. I felt sick to my stomach reading that filth.’ Evelyn’s voice was hard and cold.

Lizzy picked up the diary and looked at her grandmother.

‘You shouldn’t have read it, Gran.’ Her voice was small. Her grandmother was important to her.

‘Don’t you call me Gran! Don’t you ever call me that again. That you could do those things with boys and then write about them . . . It’s disgusting!’

‘It’s real life, remember that? You must have been young once.’ Lizzy felt her voice rising and tried desperately to control it. ‘My life is my own now, I’m nearly seventeen years old. If I want to sleep with boys I like, then that’s my business.
Mine
. Not yours or Mum’s or anyone’s. Mine!’

Evelyn gave her a look of contempt. ‘That’s all you’re interested in, isn’t it? You know, it’s funny but over the years I can always remember you saying: me, my, mine. I want, I think, I, I, I. Never a real thought for anyone else. We all fell in with what you wanted, we all bent over backwards to do what you wanted. Never a thought for ourselves. You’re nothing but a conniving, scheming, little bitch!’

‘Mum!’

‘Oh, don’t “Mum” me, Kate. That diary says it all. I make you feel suffocated, do I, with my loving? My cuddling annoys you. Well, don’t worry, Lizzy, because I never want to touch you again as long as I live.’

With that Evelyn walked from the room, her shoulders stooped.

Lizzy put her head in her hands.

‘Why did this have to happen? Why did you have to let her read that?’ She threw the diary on to the breakfast bar and Kate could hear the tears in her voice.

‘I think you should ask yourself why you wrote it, Lizzy, and why you did those things? That’s the important issue here now, not what we think.’

Tears were pouring down the girl’s face and every maternal instinct in Kate’s body told her to comfort her child. But the descriptions in the diary were there in the forefront of her mind and they stopped her. To picture your daughter with two boys in the back of a transit van is not exactly conducive to maternal solicitude. It caused a wide gap, a void that Kate was sure would always be between them.

‘Why can’t you just let me live my life how I want to?’

‘Because you’re set on a course of self-destruction, that’s why, Lizzy.’

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