Fall From Grace (27 page)
‘Look, I’ve got one daughter missing, one forced into doing a stupid job and my son is in care. None of that is down to me!’
‘You’re their mother, Lorraine,’ said Steve. ‘Now can you tell us anything of any use or are we wasting our time here?’
‘He usually came round with someone called Jake,’ said Lorraine. ‘The same one who’s being dished up in the papers as some sort of forgotten war hero or something. It makes me sick.’
‘There’s a procedure that will now fall into place, Lorraine. A family liaison officer will be appointed to you who will provide you with the necessary support whilst we continue to look for Michaela.’
‘Can they get me any money?’ Lorraine asked.
Joe paused before answering. He thought Steve had been a bit tough on her before but with that response she’d lost him now too.
‘Emotional and practical support to do with the investigation, Lorraine,’ said Joe. He sighed wearily, ‘you never know, you might just find it useful and if you’re short of money then ask the social for an emergency loan. We’ll get you that liaison officer, Lorraine. That’s all we can do whilst we look for Michaela.’
*
When Paul went back to work after his father’s death, he stared at the photograph of his mother that he’d put in a silver frame and placed on his desk where she could see him and he could see her. It was a lovely picture of her. His Uncle Doug had told him that his Dad had taken it when she was pregnant. He could see the joy and the happiness in her eyes and he held onto her in that joyful state. He hoped that she’d help him mend his shattered heart. He wished he’d known her. He wished they could’ve been close. He wished he could talk to her now.
‘I thought you might need this,’ said Anita as she brought him in a mug of coffee and one for herself.
‘Thanks, Anita,’ said Paul. ‘I didn’t have any breakfast this morning. I couldn’t be arsed with it.’
Anita produced a packet of chocolate biscuits. ‘Fancy one or two of these then?’
‘Ah, magic!’ Said Paul, taking the packet from her and diving in. ‘Why don’t you sit down and talk to me for a minute?’
‘Okay, then,’ said Anita before adding with a grin. ‘I’ve never sat down with a Lord before.’
‘Now enough of that you,’ said Paul, pointing his finger at her.
‘So are you dead minted now?’
‘Anita…’
‘…I know, I know, you’re always saying it isn’t about money it’s about values, I know, I’ve always been listening.’
‘And I was saying it when I didn’t have any money as well as now that … well, anyway, I’m only a Lord on paper, on inheritance, and I’ve no idea how much money there is in the bank.’
‘But you know it’s a lot.’
‘Yes,’ said Paul. ‘But I haven’t seen any of it yet so let’s change the subject. Are you really starting to enjoy working here now?’
‘Oh yeah,’ said Anita, ‘it’s boss.’
‘Well you’re doing really well,’ said Paul who watched over the last few weeks as Anita had travelled from being an insolent, defensive, sulky little cow into someone who was starting to grow up. She was now ironing her clothes before coming to work. She was showing due respect to other people and wasn’t nearly as volatile as when she’d first started. In fact, her volatility had largely gone and been replaced by an eagerness to learn and understand. ‘I’m proud of you, we all are.’
‘I wish my Mum was.’
‘She’ll come round eventually,’ said Paul.
‘Oh she’s alright on a Friday night when I give her some money out my wages for my board,’ said Anita.
‘She can’t be easy to live with.’
‘You’re not kidding,’ said Anita, ‘flaming impossible at times.’
‘You’ve come to a lot of realisations whilst you’ve been here,’ said Paul. ‘I mean, when we first met you were wedded to all her ways.’
‘Working here has so opened my eyes,’ said Anita. ‘To what’s important and to what I’ve missed out on.’
‘What was your mother’s own upbringing like?’
‘She didn’t really have one I don’t think,’ said Anita. ‘As far as I know her Dad left, her Mum left, she was brought up by someone, some relation I don’t know.’
‘So she’s probably chronically insecure,’ said Paul. ‘Which is why she’s such a control freak with her family.’
‘Still makes it a pile of shit to live with, Paul,’ said Anita. ‘No matter how you try and understand it.’
Paul smiled. ‘Oh yes’ he said. ‘I know.’
‘Well I don’t care anymore,’ said Anita, staring into her coffee. ‘I just want to get on for me and Candice.’
‘Good for you,’ said Paul. ‘Go for it, girlfriend!.’
‘I’ve got an appointment this afternoon about getting my own flat.’
‘Oh brilliant!’ said Paul. ‘Do they want a guarantor? I’ll do that for you. And don’t worry about furniture and all that. We’ll sort all that out.’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Paul. ‘I can’t guarantee what it will all be like but we’ll get you some things to get you started. I might even throw some paint on your walls for you if you’re good.’ Anita looked like she was about to start crying. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s just… since I started working here I’ve never known so much kindness shown to me.’
‘You’re worth it, sweetheart.’
‘I never knew that before.’
‘Well you do now,’ said Paul, ‘despite what your daft mother says.’
‘You know, I’ve never known what it is to have a Dad,’ said Anita, ‘but you’re as good as.’
‘I’m not old enough to be your Dad, you cheeky cow.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Thirty-five.’
‘And I’m only seventeen, so you are old enough,’ said Anita.
‘Well alright, I’ll give you that one,’ said Paul, laughing. ‘But only just.’
‘Paul, I know you were dead upset about your Dad and that but you see, I’ve never met my Dad. I don’t know his name, I don’t know what he looks like and I haven’t even got a photograph or anything. But if I could choose a Dad it would be you.’
Paul felt humbled by Anita’s words, ‘well I’d say I’d adopt you but I think I already have.’
‘You’re not getting rid of me now,’ said Anita.
Paul faked a weary sigh. ‘Oh God what have I started?’
‘I could do with getting a bloke as well as a flat.’
‘Very good but no more babies for a few years,’ said Paul, ‘one step at a time. Have yourself a bit of cock but make sure there’s a dress code.’
Anita laughed, ‘A what?’
‘A dress code? Make sure he wears a jacket? A condom?’
‘Oh, right, I didn’t get you at first,’ said Anita who was still smiling at Paul’s use of the word ‘cock’. ‘I won’t make you a Granddad again just yet.’
They both fell into fits of laughter that was a welcome relief from all their worries.
‘You’re the best medicine, Anita.’
Anita smiled and then stood up and made for the door. Then she stopped.
‘What is it?’ Paul asked.
‘She blames you, you know,’ said Anita. ‘My Mum. She blames you for everything.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’
*
Paul went round to Lorraine Cowley’s house and when she opened the door he was struck by the same familiar defensive stare.
‘Can I come in, Lorraine?’
‘Seeing as it’s you I don’t suppose I’ve got any choice.’
‘You’ve always got a choice, Lorraine.’
Lorraine led him into the house and folded her arms defensively. ‘So? Have you come to tell me I’ve thousands of pounds in unclaimed Benefits stashed away? Because that’s the only thing you’d have to say that would interest me.’
‘I’m here to offer you a job, Lorraine.’
‘You what? Have you not listened to a single word I’ve ever said?’
‘Have you not listened to a single word I’ve ever said?’
‘You’ve only ever talked rubbish.’
‘Lorraine, do you have any idea? Do you have any idea about what it’s like for soldiers who are out there making it safe for you to go and spend your benefit money in the Arndale Centre? Do you? I mean, do you?’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’
‘Well that’s the bloody point!’
‘No need to get so fucking aggressive.’
‘There’s every fucking need! You sit around on your fat arse blaming anybody you can lay your hands on for the mess you’ve made of your life and yet you don’t have a fucking clue about what real sacrifice is all about.’
‘I’ve never had anything in my life!’
‘Wrong, Lorraine! You started off with nothing and you’ll end up with nothing unless you start to take some fucking responsibility. You can’t change what has happened in the past, Lorraine, none of us can, even though we all wish we could. But you can make things different in the future if you open your eyes to yourself.’
‘Why are you laying this on me now?’
‘Because I know you blame me for everything you perceive to be wrong in your life at the moment,’ said Paul, ‘and I won’t accept that.’
‘Well you wouldn’t.’
‘Lorraine, we don’t need a revolution for those at the top. We need one for folks like you who expect the rest of us to keep you afloat. It’s not good enough, Lorraine. It’s not good enough for you and it’s not good enough for those soldiers out there risking their lives on your behalf. You need to show yourself and them some fucking respect.’
Lorraine had never been spoken to like that before.
‘Are you upset about something?’ she asked.
Paul laughed. ‘Upset? That doesn’t go anywhere near covering what I’m feeling at the moment.’
‘Do you want a coffee?’
‘Yeah, I want a coffee.’
‘You’ve got a job for me?’
‘Yes, I have.’
‘I can’t read or write.’
Paul immediately felt like a complete idiot. Why hadn’t he spotted that? She didn’t take any interest in her son Sam’s reading abilities because she couldn’t. And her only way of dealing with it was to set herself against it and him. She’d never got a job because she couldn’t fill in an application form. Her only way of dealing with life was to have babies and to avoid facing up to what the real challenge in her life was. It was so fucking obvious it might as well have leapt up and slapped him across the face.
‘I’m sorry, Lorraine,’ said Paul. ‘I should’ve realised.’
‘It’s too late now.’
‘No it isn’t too late,’ Paul insisted. ‘Lorraine, it is not too late.’
Lorraine didn’t look at him as she cried. ‘I can’t do it now.’
‘Yes you can, Lorraine. Do you hear me?’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can,’ Paul repeated. ‘You just need the right kind of help.’
‘I don’t know where to get it, I don’t know where to get a job, I don’t know where to get nothing!’
‘You can come and see us at the centre, Lorraine,’ said Paul. ‘Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to tell everyone on the estate all these months?’
‘I don’t like.’
‘What don’t you like?’
‘I don’t like talking to people who are going to look down on me.’
‘They won’t, Lorraine,’ said Paul. ‘Your own daughter works there.’
‘She looks down on me now.’
‘No she doesn’t, that just exists inside your own head.’
‘She does look down on me!’
‘Alright, you win, but why don’t you do something to make her proud of you instead?’
‘I need somebody to help me.’
‘I’ll help you, Lorraine,’ said Paul. ‘I’ll help you.’
‘What’s this job you’ve got for me?’
‘I want you to turn up at the social services centre at ten on Monday morning where you’ll be officially employed as a cleaner,’ Paul announced, ‘hours to suit and we will fix your reading and writing classes around it. Okay?’
‘I’m not talking to any posh people.’
‘Lorraine, there are lots of people in your situation and there won’t be any posh people there.’
‘You’re smiling.’
‘I’m smiling because you’re sounding so bloody absurd.’
‘What does absurd mean?’
‘It means you when you’re resisting any kind of change,’ said Paul, holding up his now empty coffee mug. ‘Will you make me another one? I’m not sleeping at the moment and I need all the help I can to stay awake during the day. Oh and will you lay off Anita? I know you’re giving her a hard time but she doesn’t deserve it.’