‘That was a mistake. Connor son, get the Mair sh… The press coverage of Saskia Mair’s death.’ While Connor’s in the front room, I finish making the shake and pour it in a tall glass.
Bekki takes a big swally.
‘Is that nice?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
Connor’s back with the Mair shite. ‘Now, Bekki,’ I goes, ‘Saskia Mair was the woman who took you from the Johnsons, but the authorities have found out she was lying. The Johnsons never hurt you. See, it says here Saskia Mair admitted to hurting the children so people would think it was their families that did it…’
Bekki’s reading the article on the laptop. ‘One of those children was me?’
‘Yes. The Johnsons never hurt you.’
‘But they’re still horrible! You were there, when they tried to grab me outside your flat!’
‘But they didn’t try to grab you, did they? They were just trying to talk to you, I think. I know I’ve got ninja skills and everything, but if they’d really wanted to grab you, how could Flora and I have stopped those big bbb… those big men?’
Bekki frowns. ‘But… that old man was horrible.’
‘Was he? What did he say to you?’
‘He kept saying “Wee Bekki”.’
‘Well, that’s not too horrible, is it?’
‘But he was horrible!’
‘In what way?’
‘He was… dirty. And I think he was drunk.’
‘Oh. Well, maybe he has problems. You know, like Edith’s mum? Medical problems.’
‘Like depression?’
I nod. ‘Yes, maybe depression.’
‘But even if he’s got depression I don’t want to live with the Johnsons! I want to stay with you, and Connor and Carly and Willow, until Mum gets out of prison!’
‘Aw, and we want you to stay with us, more than anything, sweetheart! We’re made up to have you living with us. And you know Flora and Neil made me your guardian in case anything happened to them, so it’s all legal and everything. So don’t you worry, Bekster, you’re staying right here.’
Bekki pokes the straw in the shake. ‘Burgers and chips aren’t good for you.’
‘All right, missie, you can have a nice salad if you want.’
‘I mean for you.’ She gives me a gorgeous wee smile.
‘Oh, here we go, Connor, here’s Miss Calorie Conscious on the case again.’
‘Aw Maw, she’s right enough, you’re getting a right lard arse on you. You need to get back on that exercise bike.’
Bekki snickers.
‘Huh! Less of your cheek, my lad!’
‘It’s less of your cheek we’re needing – less of your bum cheek, eh?’ And he’s chuckling away and Bekki’s choking on her shake, and I’m grinning all over my fucking face.
And when she’s off washing her hands before tea, I’m like that: ‘No happy? She’s no happy?’
‘Course she’s no fucking happy! You’re living in a fucking dream world if you think she’s fucking happy about any of this! Okay it’s no so bad with just us, but what’s gonnae happen when we’re in Spain and it’s Here wee Bekki, here’s fucking Psycho Granda, and aye Ryan and Travis are fucking mentalists but hey, they’re no worse than that wee shit Corrigan, your wee shit cousin’s gonnae be in your face twenty-four-seven, aye we’re all living under the same roof, whoopy-doo.’
‘Your Da’s sakeless so he is. Travis, aye maybe he has his moments, eh, but there’s no malice in the boy.’
‘He broke my fucking arm!’
‘Bairns, eh? Yous were bairns. And Ryan’s always looked out for you. What for are you calling him a mentalist?’
‘He’s a fucking murderer!’
‘Keep it down, son! Aye, Ryan’s no angel, but Christ on a cheesy biscuit! No fucker’s ever messed with you cos they know if they do, Ryan’s gonnae do them. He’s always looked out for this fucking family and that’s the thanks he gets?’
‘Aye, okay, maybe he looks out for us and that, but how’s Bekki gonnae react if she finds out he –’
‘She’s no gonnae find out.’ I go and shut the door. ‘Look, son. Right enough, it’s gonnae be hard on Bekki to begin with, aye, but I know what I’m doing here. She’s getting on fine with you and Carly and she loves wee Willow. I’m thinking tomorrow we can all go a wee trip to the zoo and Bekki can meet Mandy.’
Connor’s got a right face on him.
‘Right enough, it’s best we wait till we’re in Spain before she meets the boys and Jed and the other bairns. Wait till the bitch is convicted and the adoption’s finalised and that. Get it all done and dusted –’
‘Aye, wait till we’ve a legal fucking hold on her and she’s in another fucking country where she cannae speak the language and she cannae run away to Edith’s or Mia’s or that. Aye Maw, that’ll be ace. Bekki’s gonnae be made up.’
‘I’m no saying it’s ideal, and aye, there’s maybe gonnae be tears, but long term, it’s for the best, aye?’
Connor rolls his eyes and I’m in his face.
‘Get off my fucking case, son. We’re in this together for Bekki, right?’
‘Aye, whatever you say, Maw. Whatever you fucking say.’
34
Six Months Later
My dear, darling Beckie
I’m so sorry
She sat back in the chair. The view from her window was of the wall of the block opposite, against which a slender birch tree grew. She had watched the tree – she thought of it as ‘her’ tree – lose its leaves, she had watched it agitated by November gales and worried for it, she had watched the snow delicately ice its branches, and now little fat buds were swelling at the end of every twig.
Beckie didn’t want this letter.
She didn’t want any contact with Flora.
And who could blame her?
Yesterday the jury had returned their unanimous verdict that Flora was guilty of the charge of murdering her husband. And now it would be all over the press in every horrendous detaiclass="underline"
Rachel Clark has killed again.
Beckie was going to find out all about what Rachel had done.
She scrunched up the letter and dropped it into the raffia wastepaper basket.
The contents of the room were designed to offer as few opportunities as possible for violence. So the bin was raffia, not metal or even wicker. There were no drawers in the desk she was sitting at, only open spaces for your things. Drawers, even the kind that were anchored in place, could be pulled out and used to clobber someone.
‘Flora, this fucking stinks. I’m that sorry.’
She turned in the chair.
Danielle was standing at the door, scratching at the side of her mouth where the skin was always dry.
‘Thanks, Danielle.’
‘Least you’re no getting transferred to some other fucking hole for the rest your sentence, though, eh? Least you get to stay wi’ us?’
Flora smiled.
Wendy appeared behind Danielle. ‘You’re gonnae appeal though, right?’
Wendy favoured cut-off T-shirts that showcased her muscly arms. Today it was a neon-green number with the slogan ‘Blink if You Want Me’ emblazoned across it in silver text.
Flora nodded. ‘Actually, Wendy, I was going to ask you something.’
Most of the women didn’t talk much about what had brought them here. Some not at all, and that was respected. Flora had told Wendy and Danielle what had happened, in general terms, not naming any names because you never knew what connections people might have in this place. But now she was desperate.