Two-Faced (30 page)

‘If it’s only them you’ve got a problem with,’ Laura said quietly, ‘how come you never return my calls? I know it’s the right number, ’cos your mum gave it to me when she called that day asking if I’d seen you.’

Lips tightening, furious with her mum for giving out her number without asking permission, Mia said, ‘She must have given you my work number, but I hardly ever check that ’cos my agent deals with everything.’

Murmuring a disbelieving, ‘Mmm,’ Laura said, ‘So why haven’t you bothered trying to get in touch with me? You know where I am, and you knew I wanted to hook up with you. Or couldn’t you be bothered, ’cos I’m not one of your posh model mates?’

‘Laura, have you any idea how busy I’ve been?’ Mia protested. ‘I’m working all the time. Christ, I hardly get a minute to talk to my own
mum
.’

‘Quit interrogating her, man,’ Darren said, irritated with Laura for ruining his reunion. ‘She’s busy; you can’t expect her to drop everything to run round after you.’

‘I’m not,’ Laura shot back. ‘I just don’t see why she thinks she’s too good to even call me to say hello.’

‘Oh, believe what you want,’ Mia snapped, fed up with the schoolgirl farce this was descending into. ‘I’ve got better things to think about. Nice to see you again, Darren. Hope you and Sandra have managed to patch things up, ’cos she was always the one you really loved.’

Reaching out as Mia turned to go into the toilets, Darren grabbed her arm. ‘Wait, you’re wrong. Me and Sandra are history.’

Yanking her arm free, Mia said, ‘Oh,
great
!’ when her bag fell to the floor and the contents spilled out at their feet. Squatting down to help her pick them up, Darren gave her a questioning look when he picked up the small plastic bag of coke. Snatching it, she shoved it back into her bag.

Vern came around the corner at that exact moment. Seeing the way her and the boy’s eyes seemed to be locked, he grabbed the back of Darren’s jacket and hauled him to his feet, slamming him up against the wall.

‘What the
fuck
 . . . ?’ Darren roared, trying to shove him off. ‘Who d’y’ think you’re messing with, dickhead?’

Holding him easily with one huge hand on his chest, Vern looked at Mia. ‘You know this clown?’

Face drained of colour, Mia instinctively shook her head, praying that Darren would have the sense not to contradict her. She’d always known that Vern must be hard, but this was the first time she’d ever actually seen him in physical action, and Darren was obviously no match for him. And Stu wasn’t helping; he was too busy whispering to Laura – probably telling her to go and round up some mates before he attempted to help out his friend.

Shaking now, she said, ‘It’s okay, Vern, you can let him go. I dropped my bag and he was helping me pick my stuff up, that’s all.’

Inclining his head towards Darren, Vern spoke to him so quietly that only Darren could hear what was being said before dropping him. Flashing him a glance of resentment, Darren straightened his shirt and jacket and jerked his head at Stu.

‘Steve’s ready to get off,’ Vern told Mia when they had gone, as calmly as if nothing had happened.

Nodding, she bit her lip, wondering if she ought to ask him not to mention what had just happened. Deciding against it, figuring that it would only make her look guilty, she said, ‘Won’t be a minute. I just need the loo.’

Scuttling into the ladies, she rushed into the empty cubicle at the far end of the block and locked the door. Hands shaking violently, she took out the coke and rooted for her small compact mirror. Realising that it must have skidded across the tiled floor when she’d dropped her stuff, she tore a wad of toilet roll off the dispenser and wiped the top of the cistern before sprinkling out a thick line. Hesitating when she heard the main door swing open, she held her breath. Seconds later, it opened again and some chattering girls entered. Relaxing, knowing that their noise would drown out hers as cubicle doors slammed shut and the sound of pissing and singing rang out, Mia quickly rolled up one of the twenty-pound notes Steve had given her and snorted the line. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head right back as the rush enveloped her – oblivious to the mobile phone filming her over the cubicle divider.

Steve’s face was stormy when Mia joined him by the club’s front door. Grabbing her roughly by the arm, he marched her down the road and around the corner into the side street where the car was parked.

‘Where’s Vern?’ she asked, trying to act as if she hadn’t realised that anything was wrong in order to defuse whatever was going on in his head.

‘Dealing with something,’ Steve snarled, using his own key-fob to unlock the car doors. Yanking the back door open, he shoved her in before jumping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

‘What’s going on, babe?’ Mia asked nervously, clinging to the sides of her seat as he pulled furiously away from the kerb. ‘Please don’t tell me this has got anything to do with that guy Vern gripped just now. ’Cos I’ve already told him what was happening. I dropped my bag, and he was helping me pick up my stuff, that’s all.’

Ignoring her, Steve drove around the block and screeched to a halt when he spotted Vern. Hopping in, Vern reached into the glove compartment and took out a wad of tissues as they set off again.

Mia felt sick when she noticed that he was wiping blood off his knuckles. She dug her nails into her palms and cast longing glances out of the window as they sped out of town, wishing she could leap out and roll to freedom on the grey pavements that were whizzing by.

Still furious when he parked up at the back of the club, Steve shoved Mia inside. Staying outside to have a hushed conversation with Vern, he came in a few minutes later and lashed her across the face with the back of his hand, sending her sprawling across the floor.

Crying out, she looked to Vern for help, but he just calmly locked the door and walked through to the club.

‘Who was he?’ Steve demanded, his face livid as he stood over her. ‘And before you open your mouth, just remember what I told you last time – lie, and I’ll
kill
you.’

Weeping now, Mia cowered back into the corner. There was no sense in lying; Vern had obviously got that blood on his hand from beating Darren up, so Darren would have had no option but to tell him exactly who he was. But he might at least have had the sense not to mention that Mia and he had slept together.

‘He’s – he’s just an old friend.’

‘
Friend?
’ Steve repeated caustically, swinging his foot back and slamming it into her thigh. ‘Try again, sweetheart!’

Mouth wide, barely able to speak for the pain, Mia clutched at her leg. ‘All right! I went out with him! But I was only fifteen . . . we were just kids.’

Squatting down beside her, Steve grabbed her by the throat and slammed her head back against the wall. Teeth gritted, he said, ‘So why did you lie to Vern and say you didn’t know him?’

‘Because I knew you’d be like this if you found out,’ Mia sobbed, truly terrified now.

‘And that girl you pretended not to notice,’ Steve went on, putting two and two together. ‘She was with him, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Mia admitted, blinded by tears as she clutched at his wrist to prevent him from strangling her. ‘But I knew it would end up in trouble, that’s why I didn’t want to see her. But you
made
me go and talk to her. You
made
me!’

‘Stop making so much fucking noise,’ Steve hissed, banging her head off the wall again. ‘Did you arrange to meet up with them there? When I said that was where we were going, did you get straight on your phone and set it all up so you could see your old fucking boyfriend again?’

‘
NO!
’ Mia sobbed. ‘I didn’t even want to go, ’cos I saw her there last time and didn’t want to risk bumping into her again.’

‘Did you now,’ Steve growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. ‘So this is the
second
time you’ve seen him and thought you could get away with not telling me?’

‘No!’ Mia squawked. ‘He was in prison that time – I swear to God! She kept going on about how much he wanted to see me when he got out, but I told her I wasn’t interested. And tonight I told her I was with you and didn’t want to see him, but he caught up with us outside the loos. I was telling him to get lost when I dropped my bag, and that’s when Vern came round and gripped him up.’

Staring into her eyes for several long moments, Steve said, ‘You know how lucky you are that your ex-dick told Vern the same story? If there had been one thing that had been remotely different, it wouldn’t just be
him
on his way to hospital right now – you understand me?’

Biting her lip, Mia squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

Reaching for her handbag now, Steve said, ‘Let’s just check your phone, eh? Make sure you haven’t been taking numbers behind my back.’

Tipping the bag up, he was about to reach for her phone when he noticed the edge of a photograph sticking out of her purse. Pulling it out, he stared at it intently. Then, a light of recognition sparking in his eyes, he glared at her. ‘What the
fuck
are you doing with a picture of that dickhead footballer?’

Guessing that he’d mistaken Liam’s dark hair and green eyes for those of Jay King, Mia shook her head and blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘It’s not him, babe . . . I swear it’s not. It’s m-my dad and my grandma. It’s the only picture my mum had of him, and I took it ’cos she was going to throw it away. I’ve been carrying it round for years.’

‘He ain’t blond,’ Steve pointed out, looking from the picture to her.

‘No, but my mum is,’ Mia reminded him. ‘Please, Steve, it’s my dad. You can ask her. She hates his guts, but she’ll tell you.’

Still holding her gaze to see her reaction, Steve slowly tore the photograph down the middle. Seeing genuine pain in her eyes, he decided that maybe she had been telling the truth. He knew for a fact that she’d had no contact with the footballer, so it wouldn’t hurt her if that had been his picture. Anyway, she’d have been more likely to be carrying one of the pro shots of the dickhead in his footballing prime than one of him as a snotty kid.

Letting go of her throat now, Steve stood up and dusted himself down. Then, reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet and took her in his arms.

‘You know you’re my girl, don’t you,’ he murmured, stroking her hair. ‘And I don’t like hurting you, but I just can’t stand being lied to. Steal my money, smash up my car, call my mother a whore –
any
thing but lie. ’Cos if I can’t trust you, then there’s no point to any of this, is there?’

Mia shook her head and buried her face in his chest, glad that he was holding her up because her legs were shaking so badly that she’d probably have collapsed otherwise. She wanted to get away from Steve, but they always spent the night together and if she tried to change the routine now he’d get even more paranoid. But there was no way she was staying with him after this. This was the second time he’d hit her, and it had been way worse than the first. At least then she’d been kind of anaesthetised by that really strong new coke he’d given her which had knocked her out. But this time he’d really gone for her, and she dreaded to think what he might have done if she hadn’t told him the same thing that Darren had told Vern.

‘Let’s go get a drink,’ Steve said now, gently wiping her tears away. ‘I think we could both do with one, couldn’t we?’

Nodding, Mia forced herself to smile.

Kissing her softly on the lips, Steve peered into her eyes. ‘That picture really your dad?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yeah, it does.’ Reaching down, Steve scooped up the two halves. ‘I’ll get it fixed up for you tomorrow.’

Having no intention of being here tomorrow, Mia took the pieces from him, saying, ‘It’s okay. I’ll just sellotape it. It’ll be fine.’

Glad of the dim lights to hide her tears and bruises as he walked her into the club, Mia went through the motions of drinking and chatting as usual until it was time to leave. But beneath the smile, she was just praying for the night to end so that she could go home and shut Steve out of her life for ever.

18

Kim was woken by the phone.

‘Sorry for disturbing you,’ Sammy apologised when she picked it up, his tone grimmer than she’d ever heard it. ‘Ordinarily I’d have waited and rung back later if I caught you in bed, but this can’t wait.’

‘It’s okay,’ she assured him. ‘Has something happened?’

‘Mia’s in the paper. Is she there?’

‘No, why?’

‘I’ve had a couple of journalists on the phone already,’ Sammy told her. ‘It’s not good, and we need to get hold of her.’

‘What’s going on?’ Kim asked worriedly.

‘I’ll tell you when I get there,’ Sammy said. ‘And if anyone knocks or rings in the meantime, don’t answer any questions.’

Seriously concerned now, Kim put the phone down and ran upstairs to get dressed. Chain-smoking and pacing the floor when Sammy arrived fifteen minutes later, she practically dragged him inside.

Sammy plonked himself down on the couch and handed her the newspaper he was carrying. ‘Read that.’

Eyes widening when she saw the front page, Kim slumped down beside him. There were two pictures of Mia, both grainy, and obviously taken from above. The first showed her with a rolled-up banknote up her nose snorting a line of white powder off the top of what appeared to be a toilet cistern; the other clearly showed her face, with her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and a tiny smile of ecstasy on her half-open lips.

FAME TO SHAME IN ONE STRAIGHT LINE!

As Kim speed-read the snatch of story below the headline – which apparently continued on pages four and five – her frown deepened into a valley as she learned that Mia, who, the paper claimed, had seemed poised to become Britain’s next big thing on the catwalk, had been caught last night snorting cocaine in a nightclub toilet.

‘Did you know she was on drugs?’ Sammy asked when she’d finished reading.

‘Did I hell! Don’t you think I would have stopped her if I had?’