Ruthless a Gripping and Gritty Crime Thriller Page 4

  He heard his front door shut. Aaron still sat opposite him and was fiddling in his bag. He pulled out a basic-looking Nokia mobile phone and switched it on. He tapped on the keys for a full minute and then put it down on the table. William had downed another shot. He let his head sink back into the softness of the sofa and rolled his head a little to focus on the television. Bargain Hunt was on. He and Janey had liked this. They would play along, a team each. William had never won. Aaron’s phone beeped. After just a few seconds it beeped again, William recognised the sound of messages coming through. They were steady, every thirty seconds or so. After a few minutes Aaron was back tapping on his phone. He stood up.

  ‘You want another?’ He gestured at the bottle.

  William smiled. ‘At some point,’ he said.

  ‘I gotta go out.’

  William kept his eyes on the television until he heard the door click shut.

  Chapter 6

  Rhiannon’s first impression was that Danny was tall, almost too tall for his age, as if the rest of his body hadn’t been able to keep up. He wasn’t good looking, at least not in the traditional way, but he had a swagger when he walked over. He carried himself with real assurance and everyone else seemed to stop and wait for him to speak. She was captivated. Danny had deep brown eyes to match his skin tone, his hair was rolled tight to his head and had a pattern of straight lines cut into the side that also went through his eyebrow. He lit a cigarette, narrowing those eyes as the smoke drifted upwards. His presence belied his seventeen years.

  ‘So this is Rhiannon.’ Sam’s eyes were lit with delight. ‘I told you she was pretty, right?’

  Danny smiled. He looked Rhiannon up and down. He was biting down on his bottom lip. ‘You did say that. I should have known you would be right too.’

  Rhiannon felt her face flush warm. She had never been any good at meeting new people — definitely not boys. Yet here she was, in the middle of a group of new people and being called pretty. She had nothing to say.

  ‘She’s gonna be staying with me for a while. Don’t know how long,’ Sam said.

  ‘Lucky you. I’m sorry to hear about all your shit, Rhiannon. Sam said about your mum an’ that. About what happened. Shit time.’

  ‘My aunt . . .’ Rhiannon managed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It was my aunt. I lost my aunt.’ She said a little louder.

  ‘Your aunt. Right. Sorry to hear about your aunt.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  He pulled a cigarette higher in the packet and offered it to Rhiannon. ‘You smoke?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘You sure? It helps, you know, if you get stressed or whatever. Helps me at least.’

  ‘I don’t smoke.’

  ‘Drink? We got a few beers an’ that.’ He gestured behind him. They were in Victoria Park, a large park in the middle of Ashford with benches in among mature trees, concrete paths and a defunct fountain as a centrepiece. Most of the group had found a place to sit in the shade of one of the trees. Rhiannon looked over. She could see they were swigging from bottles.

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘You don’t drink either then?’

  ‘No. I grew up with drinkers. It can put you off.’

  ‘I respect that. So what do you do? For fun like?’

  ‘I don’t know. My aunt and I used to have fun. Right now I can’t see me having fun ever again.’

  Sam cut in with an awkward chuckle. ‘Well, I’m sure that ain’t true. You just need to hang out with us lot a bit.’

  ‘Thanks, I’m sure you’re right. I got to get back to the house for now, though. I have a meeting with my social worker.’

  ‘Sack it off! Them boring bastards never did a damned thing for me. They’re all fucking useless.’ Sam said.

  ‘I have to go today. I need to know what they have planned for me at least.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll probably still be here when you’re finished wasting your time. I want you to meet Rosh. He’s my man. He’ll be here soon.’ Sam walked a few steps away and took a seat at the foot of the tree. She accepted a bottle of beer.

  ‘You should try and come back. Just to hang. You don’t have to drink or smoke!’ Danny chuckled.

  Rhiannon felt herself blushing again. ‘I shouldn’t be long.’

  Rhiannon’s social worker was called Theresa Hart and she had an obvious affinity for purple. Rhiannon had met her on a number of occasions and she couldn’t remember her wearing any other colour. Today she even had purple tassels sprouting from her thick, dark hair that was clumped in a loose band to keep it from covering her face. She wore a purple top tucked into a black dress with some purple stitching. Her black tights finished in purple shoes and the same purple featured on oversized bangles that clacked together on her wrist as she readied her pen over a notepad.

  ‘So, Rhiannon, I haven’t seen you for a little while now. You’re sixteen — seventeen in October?’ Theresa looked up, her expression soft. She expelled a dramatic sigh. ‘Such a terrible time.’

  Rhiannon wasn’t sure if she was supposed to reply. She didn’t.

  ‘She’s a strong little one, I could tell that straight away.’ Rose was sat on the smallest sofa in her lounge and she was beaming, her gaze flicking from Rhiannon to Theresa.

  ‘Oh yes, our Rhiannon here is right little trooper. When I think of the things she’s been through, but she gets back up okay. I’m just here to try and make it a little easier, does that make sense?’

  Rhiannon shrugged. She didn’t feel like getting back up. She didn’t feel like getting patronised either but she bit her tongue. Theresa was always a little dramatic. Rhiannon had learned that you had to let her get her little bit of drama out of the way first before anything got done. And you needed to flatter her ego a little.

  ‘I appreciate your help, Theresa. I wasn’t sure who would come out and I was glad when you turned up.’

  ‘Yeah, we go back a bit me and you, right?’ She reached out and put her hand on top of Rhiannon’s.

  Rhiannon felt awkward and wanted to snatch it away but she resisted the urge. ‘What happens now?’

  Theresa took her hand back and sighed again. ‘Well, you remember when we spoke the last time and your aunty . . . well, she sort of stepped in at the last minute there didn’t she? We were all set up with a foster placement for you. That particular family no longer has the space, but don’t you worry about that. I’m certain I can get you a permanent placement in the next month or so. Your circumstances put you right to the top of the pile, Rhiannon, and people out there, they’re going to want to help you! How could they not?’

  ‘A foster placement? The police officer, he said you could go back to my mum. Maybe she’s sorted herself out.’

  ‘She hasn’t, Rhiannon. You can take my word on that. And you remember how it was when you lived with your mother?’

  ‘Better the devil you know though, right? A foster placement, I mean, that’s some complete stranger.’ Rhiannon could feel her voice breaking a little.

  ‘I organise care for vulnerable young persons, Rhiannon. Better the devil you know is not something I keep in mind when I do that. I would rather you were kept away from devils completely, do you understand what I am saying? I have your best interests at heart, Rhiannon, and I will not put you back into that environment again.’

  ‘My mum, she might sort herself out. You know, after all that’s happened.’

  Theresa sat back. She chewed her pen a little. It was another pause for the sake of drama. ‘She just might you know, that might just happen. But she might go the other way, Rhiannon. She might just react to all that’s been going on by hitting the bottle harder than ever. We both know she doesn’t deal with things well — with normal everyday things. This might just hit her for six. You know me, Rhiannon, I won’t rule anything out, and if your mum wants to see me and wants to convince me that she is capable of giving you the home you deserve then I will sit and listen. And if that’s the best thing for you then
that’s where you will go. But she hasn’t been beating my door down since you went to stay with your aunty.’

  ‘I know, but she knew I could have a better life with Aunt Mel for now. She knew she could give me a more stable environment while she was sorting herself out. She didn’t want to let me go, but she knew she had to. It might be different now. If I could just talk to her, tell her that I’m going to live with a complete stranger, maybe—’

  ‘I’ll talk to her, Rhiannon. I’ll let the dust settle a little, let her come to terms with losing her sister and then I’ll go and see her. Not with the intention of asking her to provide a home for her daughter, that isn’t something I will be asking for. But I will talk to her. And if she asks me, if she says she wants to take you back in, then I will start the ball rolling for her to be effectively assessed. With her past though, Rhiannon, with all that we know about her, it would be a long process. It will take months. And in that time I need to be sure you are in the right environment. This is all for you.’

  ‘I could stay here, then.’ Rhiannon flicked her attention to Rose, who quickly disguised a reaction.

  ‘Rose, here, is set up as an emergency service. The police bring people like you to her when they are caught out in the middle of the night. She has Anais here, who is Rose’s long-termer, and she has Sam who we are looking to house in the near future. Rose needs to have a space for the next emergency, Rhiannon.’

  ‘You might not have met Anais yet. But I won’t kick you out, my love,’ Rose said. ‘You are always welcome here. You can stay until there is something right for you to go to.’ Rose was beaming again.

  ‘And this new family,’ Rhiannon challenged, ‘who says they are right?’

  ‘The assessments are stringent. The people on our books, they’re all good people. Professionals usually, upstanding members of the community who want to make a difference, who want to provide positive environments for the young and the vulnerable. This is such an important time for you, Rhiannon. I can’t get this wrong.’

  Rhiannon could feel the panic rising in her again. She had spent so much of her life anxious and unsure that it had become the norm. It didn’t bother her usually, but with her aunt she had tasted how it could be to have a settled life. She knew how good that was and she yearned to have it again.

  ‘So how long until I’m somewhere else?’

  ‘Like I said, you’re top of the list. A month — two at a push. Until then, you can stay here with Rose.’

  ‘You’re very welcome here, Rhiannon.’ Rose said again.

  ‘Thanks. I just want to be settled somewhere. The last time I was up in the air, when you told me you were taking me away from my mum, that was the worst time. It’s the waiting. If you’re going to move me I would rather you take me now. It’s fine here, I’ll probably like it, but that’s worse. I don’t want to be sat somewhere I like waiting to go somewhere I might not.’

  ‘I know how frustrating all of this is. I know you didn’t want to be going through this again, Rhiannon. I didn’t want you to have to do this again either. But be a little patient. That is why this next move is so important. Because we need to get it right. We need to make sure it is the last move you have to make.’

  Rhiannon checked the time. The meeting had lasted twenty minutes. She knew there was nothing more to come from it. ‘I need to get back out.’

  ‘You have an appointment?’ Theresa looked a little taken aback.

  ‘No.’

  ‘There are a few more bits I need to go through with you, Rhiannon. Some paperwork.’

  ‘What paperwork?’

  ‘You know the sort of things. I need to fill out a form for your mental health assessment, we need to be sure you’re not depressed or suffering in ways we can’t see.’

  Rhiannon got to her feet. She peered down at the pile of forms Theresa had pulled from a purple folder. She suddenly flashed with anger she couldn’t control. ‘I lost my aunt. She was my best friend. My mum doesn’t want me — that’s if she still realises who I am. And you’re telling me not to get too comfortable because I need to go and live with a bunch of strangers just as soon as you can sort it out? I am depressed. I am suffering. You can put that on your form if you want — you don’t need me here for that.’

  Rhiannon walked away. She heard Rose calling out. Rhiannon’s anger dissipated immediately; she felt bad for Rose. But she kept walking. She could make her apologies later. She crossed the hall and got to the front door. She pulled it open then pushed it shut again loudly and moved quietly to the stairs opposite. She knew from experience that adults only ever spoke the truth about children when they weren’t around. She flattened herself against the wall. There was a dramatic sigh and then a voice.

  ‘She’s really been through it. I genuinely don’t know how she’s managed to stay so bright and so normal, you know?’ It was Theresa’s voice. It carried well.

  ‘I’ve seen some really messed up kids who have been through a lot less.’ Rose was quieter. Rhiannon found herself holding her breath as she listened.

  ‘And that’s just what you get in the handover notes, Rose. You get the case summary — that’s not half her story. This girl, her mum’s been an alcoholic just about all of her life — then she took in a man. We’re pretty sure he was abusing her in all sorts of ways. We’re certain he beat her. And what did her mother do? She chose the booze and this man over her own daughter. How could she do that?’

  ‘It happens all too often. I wish I could say I hadn’t heard of it before. I’ll hear of it again, too. I don’t doubt there’s a queue of wonderful young children who are being damaged as we speak by their own parents. And then when they start acting out, they’ll be kicked out for the rest of us to pick up the pieces.’

  There was another sigh. ‘She’s different though, you know. Rhiannon, I mean. She should be damaged, she should be acting out. But when she’s in school she’s top of her class and her behaviour . . . when I first started talking to the school about her home life, no one there would believe me. They were about ready to praise her upbringing.’

  ‘She’s a special kid, alright.’

  ‘Somehow. Somehow her mum didn’t manage to mess her up yet, like she has everything else in her life.’

  Rhiannon had heard enough. She tugged the heavy front door open roughly and slammed it shut so hard the glass panels rattled.

  Chapter 7

  William was very suddenly awake. His shirt was damp with sweat and it clung to him as he sat up on the sofa. A young, black lad sat opposite and was fidgeting on the table. The table had been cleared of the clutter William was used to. He rubbed his eyes and fixed on a small device that whirred as it flickered with twenty-pound notes. When it stopped the male scooped up the wad of notes and wrapped a band around them. He didn’t look over.

  ‘Who the fuck are you?’

  ‘Mo.’

  ‘Mo? Who the fuck are you?’

  ‘Aaron said it was cool to use his place.’

  ‘His place? This isn’t his place. This is my fucking place!’

  The lad shrugged. He couldn’t have been any older than sixteen. He wore a white vest and his arms were stick thin. His hair was shorn close to his scalp and he had baggy jeans that were hanging so low on his body that William could see the brand of his underwear.

  ‘Aaron here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You know where he is?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You want to get the fuck out of my place!’

  The boy had continued working with his hands. He stopped what he was doing and looked over. ‘Aaron said it was cool. Talk to Aaron. If he tells me to go, I’ll go.’

  ‘This ain’t Aaron’s place!’

  ‘He’s staying here right?’

  ‘Well, yeah, a few days.’

  ‘Then it’s his place.’

  ‘Jesus.’ William’s head thumped. His throat felt dry and he struggled to his feet for a glass of water. He drank a pint in one go. From his position
in the kitchen he looked back out over the table.

  ‘So you’re fucking drug dealers. I mean, it’s not a great shock. I guessed Aaron was in that sort of game from the start, you know. I’ve seen a million of him before. He can be what he wants but I won’t have it here. I can’t have it here.’

  He got no response.

  ‘Mo!’

  The lad did nothing to hide his impatience. He finished what he was doing, his movements deliberate, and only when he had made it clear he had finished did he look over.

  ‘What do you want from me, man? I ain’t the person to talk to if you got beef. Aaron tells me it’s cool then it’s cool. You got a problem with that then you need to speak to Aaron.’

  ‘Are there drugs here?’

  ‘It’s my business what I got. But I ain’t no common drug dealer. There’s some of that rum left, right? Aaron said you like the drink? Said that you just need to be on that shit and it don’t matter what happens. Best you don’t know.’

  ‘Not here. I don’t give a shit what you’ve been told or who you’ve been told it by. I don’t have drugs here. Not dealing. The cops round here, they get a whiff there’s a setup in a house and they’ll be through the door. I can’t have that. Not here. This isn’t that sort of place. This is my old mum’s house. I got lucky. When she died, the council let me have it. Round here it’s only supposed to be old people. It’s quiet and I like it. You’ll mess everything up if you got drugs here.’