Broke (9 page)

Too weary to argue, Amy flopped onto a chair. But when the kettle switched itself off a few seconds later, and Marnie said, ‘Oh, oh, I think the electric’s gone,’ she fell to pieces all over again.

‘Oh, God! I can’t take any more of this!’

‘Hey, it’s not the end of the world.’ Marnie rushed over and gave her a cuddle. ‘We’ll just go round to mine for a brew instead.’

‘I don’t want a stupid brew,’ Amy sobbed, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘I just want my l-life back.’

‘I know it’s hard,’ Marnie said soothingly, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. ‘But this is just a little blip, hon. Everything will start picking up soon, you’ll see.’

‘
How?
’ Amy cried. ‘Mark’s not even trying. He just leaves everything to me, then walks out when I ask him to do anything. And the social are saying we’re not entitled to full benefits ’cos it’s Mark’s fault for getting sacked. I’ve got no food, no electric, and the phone’s about to get cut off. I don’t know how much more I can take, Marn, I really don’t.’

‘Right, that’s enough,’ Marnie said firmly. ‘You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, Amy Taylor, and if anyone can get through this, you can.’

‘I couldn’t even give the kids their tea last night,’ Amy admitted tearfully. ‘That’s why they’re at my mum’s. Mark promised to get some money so I could go to the chippy, but he didn’t come back. And then Bobby started crying, and my mum had a right go at me, and I just . . . I just . . .’

Unable to go on, Amy covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Marnie held her in silence. There was no point saying anything, because money was the only thing that would make her feel better and Marnie had none to give. She could cheerfully kill Mark for walking out and leaving Amy to deal with all this on her own, but she didn’t want to add to her friend’s distress, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

When she was cried out, Amy got up and splashed cold water onto her swollen eyelids. ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to break down on you like that.’

‘That’s what friends are for,’ Marnie reminded her, taking her cigarettes out of her pocket and lighting one. ‘You’ve done it enough times for me in the past. Christ, there’ve been times when I probably would have slit my wrists if you hadn’t been there.’

Drained, Amy sat down and held out her hand. ‘Give us a drag.’

Marnie drew her head back. ‘You don’t smoke.’

‘I need
some
thing.’

‘Not that. You’ve seen the state I get in when I run out, and you expect me to get you started?’

‘Just bloody give me some,’ Amy groaned.

‘Right, fine.’ Marnie passed the cigarette over. ‘But don’t blame me if it makes you sick.’

Amy took a deep drag, and was instantly whisked back to her teens by the taste and the sensation of giddiness in her head. Before she got caught with Cassie, she’d been a twenty-a-day girl. She had given up as soon as she found out she was pregnant and had never touched one since. But this was a whole new level of low and, the way she was feeling right now, if somebody had offered her crack she would probably have taken it.

Soothed by the nicotine, but also a little nauseous, Amy passed the cigarette back to Marnie after a couple of drags. Getting herself hooked on fags wasn’t going to solve her problems. And nor was making excuses for Mark. Her mum had been spot on about that, because Amy had been covering for him ever since they’d first got together. She’d lied for him, provided him with alibis, defended him, and even physically fought over him. And all he’d ever given in return was his last name, and two kids who, precious as they were, had effectively ended Amy’s life outside these four walls. From waking up in the morning till she went back to bed of a night, her whole life revolved around them. Mark, on the other hand, was spending even less time with them these days than when he’d been working. Apart from when he was forced to get up to sign on, he stayed in bed all day, and only got up after the kids had gone to bed so he could play on his Xbox without being disturbed. And if Amy dared to complain, he flew off the handle and walked out.

Well, enough was enough. She was done with being a doormat, and when Mark showed his face she was going to give it to him straight:
Sort it out, or pack your bags and piss off back to your mum’s.

Or, better still . . .

‘I’m going to stay at my mum’s,’ she declared, pushing her chair back.

‘Really?’ Marnie raised an eyebrow. ‘How long for?’

‘Who cares?’ Amy shrugged. ‘Don’t see why I should sit here suffering while he’s out doing God knows what. If he asks, you haven’t seen me. Let him figure it out and come running after me for a change.’

As Amy packed a bag of clothes for herself and the kids and called a cab to take her to her mum’s, Mark walked out of the bookie’s with a face as grey as the storm clouds that were brewing overhead.

It had taken him less than half an hour to lose every penny of the hundred quid that Jenny had lent him, and he was absolutely gutted, because he’d been banking on the money to cheer Amy up and make her overlook the fact that he’d stayed out all night.

It was far too early to go to Steve’s, and too cold to hang around on the street, so he set off for home with a list of excuses going round in his head.

The house was deathly quiet, and full of shadows. Mark tried to switch the hall light on, but nothing happened. Even in the gloom, he could see and smell that the living room and kitchen were spotlessly clean. Hoping that Amy wasn’t too mad after all, because she rarely cleaned when she was in a mood, he went back out into the hall and called her name. When he got no answer, he went quietly up the stairs to see if she and the kids were sleeping. But both rooms were empty, and when he saw the open drawers and missing clothes a sickly feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach.

He ran round to Marnie’s and banged on the door. ‘Marnie . . . open up. I know she’s in there. I just need to talk to her.’

After several more knocks, and a fruitless peer through the window, he was about to climb over Marnie’s locked side gate to go round the back when Gemma came out of her house.

‘Coo-ee!’ she shouted. ‘If you’re looking for your Amy, she went off in a taxi about an hour ago. With a suitcase.’

Muttering ‘Thanks,’ Mark went home and picked up the phone.

‘Yes, she’s here,’ said Sonia when she answered his call. She turned to Amy who was sitting on the couch with her feet up and a cup of tea in her hand, and mouthed, ‘
Mark
.’

Amy shook her head.

‘I’m sorry, she doesn’t want to talk to you,’ Sonia told him. ‘And don’t come round, ’cos John will be back soon and he’s already gunning for you.’

Sonia rolled her eyes at Amy when Mark pleaded with her to let him speak to his wife, and said, ‘No, I’m sorry. She’s made her decision, and you’re just going to have to give her a bit of space to think things through.’

Amy drew her knees up to her chest and listened to her mum’s side of the conversation.

‘Yes, I know they’re your kids, but they’re safer here with us for the time being . . . No, of course I’m not trying to punish you, I’m just supporting my daughter . . . It’s got absolutely nothing to do with me, this is her decision, not mine . . . Well, if that’s the way you’ve been talking to her, I don’t blame her for leaving you . . . Goodbye!’

‘What did he say?’ Amy asked when her mum slammed the phone down, even though she’d already guessed most of it.

‘That it’s not all his fault,’ said Sonia. ‘That you’re not as perfect as me and your dad seem to think, and if you weren’t so lazy he wouldn’t get so mad and keep going out. Oh, and the kids are as much his as yours and you’ve got no right to keep them away from him, and if you try he’ll take you to court.’ A pious look on her face, she sat down and pressed the button on the side of her chair to elevate her legs. ‘Like to see how he’s going to get a solicitor when he can’t even afford to put the lights back on.’

Amy would have been amused if she hadn’t felt so sick. Her mum had been so mad on the phone this morning that she’d half expected her to slam the door in her face when she’d turned up. But as soon as Sonia saw the suitcase and realised that Amy was serious about sorting her life out, she had welcomed her daughter with open arms. And she was in full mother-tiger-protecting-her-young mode now, determined not to let Mark anywhere near until Amy was good and ready.

And, right now, Amy was nowhere near ready. She just wanted to relax and let the stresses of the last few months drift off her shoulders.

Cold, miserable, and totally pissed off with Sonia for refusing to let him talk to his wife, Mark sat down and willed Steve to hurry up and ring so he could go round to his place. He’d feel better once he had food and beer in his belly, and the footie would chill him out enough to stop the conversation he’d just had with his bitch of a mother-in-law from going round in his mind.

He didn’t know who the fuck she thought she was, but if she thought she was going to get away with treating him like a prick she had another think coming. And John fat-bastard Clark wasn’t going to stop him, either. He might think he was a hard man just because he was six foot something to Mark’s five-eleven, and fifteen stone to Mark’s ten. But size wasn’t everything, and Mark would mash him up if he tried to get in his way.

Still brooding when his mobile rang at half-four, he saw Steve’s name on the screen and pushed himself up in his seat. ‘At last! I was starting to give up on you. I’ll be there in ten.’

‘Sorry, mate, change of plan,’ said Steve. ‘I was about to get on the bus, but Layla’s mum rang and told her to bring me home for dinner.’

‘You had dinner with them last night.’

‘Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t very well say no, could I?’

‘What about the footie?’ Mark whined. ‘And you promised me a takeaway.’

‘I can see you any time,’ said Steve, pissed off with his friend for trying to make him feel guilty. ‘And you’ve let me down loads of times, so what you acting up for?’

Aware that he sounded like a sulky brat – or, worse, a scorned girlfriend – Mark said, ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry. Just forget I said anything.’

‘Look, she’s special,’ Steve told him, almost whispering now. ‘But you’re me best mate, and I don’t want us falling out over her.’

‘We won’t,’ Mark assured him. ‘Everything’s cool. Go and have your dinner, and give us a ring when you’re free for that catch-up.’

He disconnected without waiting for an answer and slumped back miserably in his chair. Now what was he supposed to do? No electric, no food, no booze, and no cigs. He was going to be crawling up the walls before the night was through, and all he had to look forward to tomorrow was more of the same.

He snatched his phone up and dialled another number.

‘All right, Mum?’

‘What do you want, Mark? I’m a bit busy just now.’

‘That’s nice. Can’t I call my mother to say hello without her thinking I’m after something?’

‘Well, you never have before, so that’d be a no,’ Jane Taylor answered bluntly. ‘Seriously, Mark, I’m up to my eyes in it here. The am-dram are doing
Grease
, and I’ve only got a week to finish the costumes.’

‘Tell ’em to do their own.’

‘It doesn’t work like that. I’m wardrobe mistress.’

‘Well, I hope they’re paying you for all the time you’re putting in.’

‘Oh, so that’s why you’ve called?’ Jane said knowingly. ‘Should have guessed. You’re after a borrow, aren’t you? Well, sorry, son, you’re out of luck, ’cos the bank of mum is closed for the foreseeable.’

‘I wasn’t even gonna ask for dosh,’ Mark lied, injecting as much hurt into his voice as he could manage. ‘I just wanted to say hello, but if you can’t be arsed talking to me, I won’t bother in future. Oh, and by the way, Amy’s left me and took the kids. See ya!’

With that, he cut the call and threw the phone down angrily. When it immediately began to ring and his mum’s name appeared on the screen, he switched it off. Fuck her, and fuck Amy’s stuck-up bastard parents. He’d get Amy back if it killed him. And when he did, they could all go to hell if they thought he was letting them see his kids again.

7

Jenny was settling down to watch
Big Brother
when the doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone so she ignored it. But when the letter box flapped open and Mark called her name, she leapt off the couch and ran into the bedroom as if her heels were on fire. Quickly changing her cosy fleece dressing gown for a more sexy satin one, she brushed her hair and spritzed herself with perfume, then ran downstairs.

‘Sorry,’ she told Mark breathlessly. ‘I couldn’t find my keys.’

‘Not disturbing you, am I?’ He eyed her nightclothes.

‘No, I’m just watching telly,’ she said. Then, seeing his miserable expression, she asked, ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Amy’s left me,’ he told her glumly. ‘She’s took the kids and gone to her mum’s.’

Jenny’s heart lurched so hard she had to put her hand against the wall to steady herself. ‘Has – has she found out about us?’

‘No.’ Mark shook his head. ‘Least, I don’t think so.’

‘Why has she left you, then?’

‘I don’t know. Everything.’ Mark shrugged. ‘Me not having a job, never having any money, kids doing her head in . . . It’s all just got on top of her.’

‘Has she said it’s over?’ Jenny probed, waving for him to come in and leading him upstairs. ‘Has she asked for a divorce?’

Mark frowned deeply as he sat down on one of the couches. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Amy might ask for a divorce, and he didn’t know what he would do if she did. As much as she pissed him off, he didn’t want to lose her. And it would totally crack him up if they split and Amy got together with another bloke and the kids started calling him Daddy.

Jenny switched the lamp on and poured two glasses of Scotch. Mark looked crushed, and she wished she could sit next to him and hold his hand. But she wasn’t brave enough, so she handed his glass to him and carried her own to the other couch.

Mark swallowed a mouthful and closed his eyes, relishing the burn as the liquid slid smoothly down his throat.