Heartless (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Stanley felt a twinge of guilt as his dishevelled wife walked past him to get a drink of water. In the three days since Rosie and Jonathan had been gone, Bernie had done nothing but look miserable. She hadn’t uttered a word and had barely eaten a thing. Stanley watched as she drank the water. She had big dark circles under her eyes, her hair was lank and greasy and she had been wearing her dressing gown for the past three days. In all the years that they had been married Bernie hadn’t been able to so much as leave the bedroom without making sure she was immaculately turned out.

“Do you fancy a brew?” Stanley asked, hoping to break the ice a little.

Shaking her head, she didn’t even bother to answer.

“Look, love, we can’t go on like this, can we?” Stanley said. Trust Bernie to over-dramatize things. The way she was behaving you would think Jonathan and Rosie had died, not just moved into their own place. He knew that she was upset about Rosie going more than anything, but this was the way it was supposed to be.

Stanley had spent the days relaxing, drinking tea and reading the newspapers, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he no longer felt like an unwanted guest in his own home. No noise; no sneers. As far as he was concerned, Jonathan moving out was the best thing that had happened in years. “Come on, love; this is stupid. Jonathan is twenty-three: he wasn’t going to live at home forever.”

Slamming her glass down on the worktop, Bernie swung around to face her husband.

“Stupid?” Bernie shouted. “I’ll tell you what stupid is, shall I? Stupid is driving your own son and granddaughter out of their home. Stupid is you and your bloody tantrums. Rosie is the daughter I never had, Stanley; don’t you see that? I’m the closest thing that little girl has to a mother.”

Bernie was so angry with her husband it was all she could do not to smash the glass of water over his head.

“She has a mother, Bernie,” Stanley said quietly, bowing his head. He knew that Bernie wouldn’t want to hear this but it needed to be said. From the moment that Jonathan had brought that baby home, Bernie had devoted her life to her care. She had raised her as if she was her own and Jonathan had let her because it suited him. He had been able to go off and work unsociable hours, every time he had been called in with a minute’s notice. Jonathan had taken advantage of his mother’s good nature, and the bond that she had formed with Rosie, to get her to do everything that he asked. But she wasn’t Rosie’s mother, she was her gran.

He knew that his wife was feeling lost without Jonathan and Rosie to molly-coddle and he felt bad about that. His intention had never been to cause her upset. But Jonathan needed to stop using her and stand on his own two feet for a while. And Stanley wasn’t going to go back on what he had said and done. Bernie would see in the end that it had been the right thing to do, he was sure.

For years Stanley had only put up with Jonathan to please his wife. He couldn’t do it anymore. Now it was Bernie’s turn to make some sacrifices.

“You haven’t lost them, Bernie, they’ve just moved out,” Stanley reasoned with his wife as her bottom lip trembled and tears rolled down her cheeks. He knew that she was upset but until now he hadn’t realised just how much, she was obviously desperately unhappy but he was damned if she thought for a second that she was going to persuade him into changing his mind by putting on the waterworks. Losing his patience, Stanley changed tack.

“That boy has controlled this house for far too long. Why can’t you just admit it, Bernie?”

Bernie clamped her hands over her ears, refusing to listen to the words of venom which her husband was spewing out about Jonathan yet again. Stanley had always bullied Jonathan; he had never had a good word to say about him.

“And whether you want to admit it or not, Bernie, Rosie’s turning out just like him. She’s not right,” Stanley said sadly. He had wanted more than anything to love his only grandchild but he had seen right through her, just as he had with Jonathan. The pair of them manipulated everyone. He needed Bernie to acknowledge that she could see it too.

“You know it’s true, Bernie; that girl’s just as heartless as her father. Do you think Geoffrey next door just came round here shouting the odds all those times for the fun of it? Twenty-five years he’s been our neighbour, and we never had a peep of trouble from him. Rosie killed his birds, snapped their necks just like Jonathan did to all those poor bloody animals in those videos. When are you going to face it, Bernie? History’s repeating itself; she’s cut from the same cloth as her father.”

Even after all the years that had elapsed, Bernie still couldn’t bring herself to talk about what they had found. Stanley remembered it all so clearly. He had come home from work to find his wife sobbing hysterically as she had played the tapes that she found stashed underneath Jonathan’s bed while she had been hoovering. Jonathan had been at school and Bernie had found the camcorder that the boy was obsessed with. Jonathan had a hard time at school; he had no friends and seemed to his teachers like an angry child. Bernie had thought that if she watched the films, saw the secret world that Jonathan had filmed from his angle, they would help her understand him.

Most of the tapes featured tortured animals. He had filmed himself killing defenceless creatures in the vilest of ways. Feeling sick, she had made herself watch every tape as if it was her punishment for not realising what Jonathan had been doing. The worst video had been the one of Tommy. Bernie had sat with her hand placed over her mouth as the camcorder had zoomed in on her Tommy as he struggled to keep his head out of the water, spluttering and coughing as he begged for help.

Bernie had realised that not only had Jonathan stood there and filmed the whole thing, but that he had zoomed in on Tommy’s face as if he had been enjoying his brother’s panic and distress. At one point the whole screen had been taken up with a close-up of Tommy’s eyes. His desperately scared eyes had bored into the lens, behind which Jonathan would have just stared back. By the time that Stanley had got home, Bernie had been so distraught she could barely talk. She had shown him the videos instead, and Stanley had hit the roof.

But Bernie had done her usual thing and begged him not to say anything. She pleaded with him to destroy the tapes, terrified that someone would find them and take Jonathan away from her. She vowed that if he got rid of everything she would speak to Jonathan, properly. Stanley had stuck to his part of the bargain, burning all the evidence of their son’s sadistic pastime in the incinerator in the back garden. But Bernie had never stuck to hers. Once the tapes had been destroyed, she refused point blank to discuss what they had both seen. The violence... the blood… she would never really be able to shake off the memory of what she had seen but for her son’s sake she had fought to pretend that it hadn’t happened. Even now, all these years later, she wouldn’t talk about it.

“How dare you say such a thing, Stanley? Rosie is an eight-year-old girl, and you are nothing but a horrible bully. We were a family...” Bernie shouted. Enough was enough for her too. If Stanley thought for one moment that she was going to let him stand there and say such things about poor innocent Rosie then he had another think coming. “Look at us now, Stanley, me and you rattling around in this big empty house on our own. I’ll be lucky if Jonathan even lets me visit her... you do know that, don’t you? You’ve ruined everything.” Bernie was weeping again as she spoke, but she didn’t care. The void inside her was growing bigger with every passing minute that she was away from her precious Rosie.

Stanley sighed, defeated. Bernie would never listen to the truth.

Bernie missed Jonathan as well as Rosie. Of course he had his funny ways; she knew that better than anyone did, but so what? She felt like the whole world was against him sometimes. She remembered the way her friends had looked at him in disgust when he had been a young boy, turning their noses up at the way she ‘spoilt’ him. She had watched the way her husband had become jealous of the time that they spent together, detest for his own son written all over his face. It had been Bernie that had fought Jonathan’s corner every single time when he had been growing up. She had been there for him when the teachers in each of his schools had taken a dislike to him and tried to make out that he was a troublemaker. She had been the one that had tried to speak to him when he had come home from school in tears as a small boy because all of the kids in his class had singled him out, taunting him by calling him nasty names and refusing to play with him. Jonathan had been and was different to most people, yes, but Bernie didn’t care. He was her son and, unlike everyone else, she would never turn her back on him.

“You just don’t get it, do you, Stanley,” Bernie spat. “I don’t care if you’re here or not. All I care about is Rosie and Jonathan. It was you who had the problem, so you should have been the one who left.”

Bernie stood there trembling. She had seen the hurt in Stanley’s eyes the second that her words had tumbled out of her mouth. By looking at her husband’s expression, she could tell that the truth that had just rolled out of her mouth had smacked him straight in the face.

She meant what she had said, though.

Pushing past Stanley, Bernie felt her head start to pound. She needed to lie down. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget.

Rubbing his head, which was aching, Stanley sighed. Bernie would never change, and nothing he said or did would make her: it was time to give up.

Stanley felt crushed. His wife had made her choice, and she hadn’t chosen him. After all these years, after everything, Jonathan had won.

There was one last thing he had to do, though. Taking his phone out of his pocket, Stanley’s hand trembled as he pressed a series of buttons. Even if he had lost Bernie, even if Jonathan had ripped them apart, he wasn’t prepared to let him do it to other people.

Hearing Tommy’s familiar voice on the other end of the line almost tipped Stanley over the edge; shutting his eyes tightly, as if to stop the emotion tumbling out of him, he said: “Son, it’s me. It’s time we had a little chat.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sophia hadn’t left her nan’s side since she had found her cowering in her bedroom earlier. When Nessa was seen in A&E, the doctor said that she had only fainted but, although he assured Sophia that her nan would be okay, they wanted to keep Nessa in and run some tests due to her high blood pressure. .

“I’m bored out of my blooming tree, Soph... Can’t we go for a little wander? I can’t sit here all day, not with that view. Look at her over there; she looks like something out of a horror film.” Nessa nodded at the cubicle opposite in her usual tactless manner.

“You’re supposed to be resting, Nan,” Sophia said, then, turning to where her nan was looking, saw in horror that a woman was lying on the bed opposite with her nightdress hitched up around her waist completely exposing herself. Spotting the wheelchair at the other end of the ward she had second thoughts.

“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you, Nan. I’ll take you outside so that you can sit in the fresh air for a little while if you promise me that when we come back you’ll get some rest.”

Nessa beamed as Sophia got the chair.

“We’re only going out there for five minutes though,” Sophia said, as she helped her nan off the bed and to ease her frail body into the chair. “Carefully does it.”

“Sophia my dearie, if I had a few feathers stuck to my bottom would that make me a chicken?” Nessa asked.

“What?” replied Sophia, confused by another of her nan’s wacky sayings.

“This.” Nessa pointed at the wheelchair. “Just because I’m in a wheelchair it doesn’t make me an invalid, Sophia, so stop with all your to-do, my girl.”

Shaking her head at how strong-spirited her nan was, after everything she had been through that day, Sophia wheeled her out of the ward, shooting the old girl opposite a quick glance as they passed her. “I’ll get the nurse to come and help you get more comfortable,” Sophia said feeling embarrassed.

They took the lift to the garden area, which had benches. It was a beautiful day, and Sophia thought that a breath of fresh air would do her nan good.

Wheeling the chair next to a bench, Sophia took a seat on it as she watched her nan close her eyes and bask in the glorious sunshine.

“Oh, this is better. I can’t bloody stand being inside these places. They’re so sterile and cold. The place reeks of death,” Nessa said, as she opened one eye and looked at Sophia. “You know, Sophia, I was lucky today but I’m getting on, love. The day’s going to come when I’m not going to be here anymore.”

“Nan, don’t, please...” Sophia shook her head. She didn’t want to think that one day she would lose her nan, let alone talk about it. Especially after the shock she had got that morning. At one point, seeing the destruction of her nan’s house, Sophia had thought that she would find Nessa in a similar state. It had been a horrible feeling.

“There’s no use pretending, sweetheart, my day will come. The only certainty in life is death, you know,” Nessa continued, thinking that now was as good a time as any to broach the subject. “I just want to make sure that you’re going to be okay, lovey, when I’m no longer here. Your mum isn’t much use to you, what with her nerves, but I want you to promise me that you won’t give up on her. She is very ill and she has no idea what she’s saying. But one thing I know for sure is that if she was in her right mind, she would have never given up on you. Promise me you’ll see her again.”

Sophia nodded. Of course she would. It didn’t matter how long it took, or even if her mother never acknowledged her again, Sophia knew she had to try and get through to her.

Sophia felt a heavy lump form in her throat. Her nan was the only person she really had left now, she couldn’t bear the thought of her death. She had always been there for her. She felt closer to her than she did to anyone. She couldn’t bear the thought of her death.

“Nan, don’t you be worrying about me; I’ll be fine. I’m going to get back on my feet, I promise. Once I get myself a job and move into a better place, I’ll be able to start seeing Rosie. That’s all I want now. I’ve got a lot of making up to do to her. And as for you...” Sophia said wistfully. “You’re not going anywhere. You could give a woman half your age a run for her money. So no more of this morbid talk okay?”

“It’s not morbid talk to me. The day I meet my maker will be a happy one because I know that your dear grandad Patrick will be up there waiting for me, along with little Rascal.” Nessa smiled though Sophia saw the tears glisten in her eyes as she spoke.

“And as for seeing Rosie, what about Jonathan? He won’t let you anywhere near the girl. He was like a man possessed today, Sophia. I’ve never in all my life seen someone look so capable of... well, murder.” Nessa shook as she thought of the damage that man had caused. He had smashed up the place in front of her, and Nessa had seen the glint in his eye as he enjoyed the fact that he was terrifying her as he did so.

“But that’s exactly why I need to see her, Nan. Jonathan is evil. I should never have given her to him. You should see her, Nan, she’s like a mini-me: all curly red hair. Dinky, though.” Sophia smiled. “But boy is she outspoken. She talked to me with more confidence than I’ve felt in all my life.”

“Don’t you be so sure; that’ll be another trait she gets from you, I’d put money on it,” Nessa insisted. “Don’t you ever forget that you, my girl, are strong. Always have been; even as a nipper you’d have talked the hind legs off a donkey. You’d have me and all the ladies down at the social club in fits on a Sunday afternoon with all your stories.”

It was true, but prison had changed the girl, knocking her confidence; Nessa hoped in time she would get it back. “You’ve been through a lot; too much, Sophia. But I have never, not for a second, doubted you. And now you’ve come out of the other side in one piece, and it’s time to start building your life back up. But just be careful, that’s all I ask. As my dear old mother used to say, you can’t argue with crazy and that Jonathan is a whole load of that.”

“I know what you’re saying, Nan, but since I saw Rosie it’s like I’m possessed. I’m determined to get her back. And if I do it all the right way and get a job then move to a decent place, like the social workers said, then there’ll be nothing that he can do to stop me,” Sophia said before adding carefully, “are you sure that you’re not going to tell the police what happened, Nan? You can’t let him get away with it.”

Her nan was as stubborn as they came and once she made her mind up about something there was nothing that anyone could say to sway her, but Sophia needed to try.

“No, lovey, its more hassle than it’s worth.”

***

“Well, looks like those old bags must’ve got bored and gone to find someone else to cast aspersions on,” Dolly said lightly, as they walked back to the hospital’s main entrance. She had been practising her most seductive wiggle for them and was disappointed to see that they were no longer there to witness it. Mind you, she thought, it may have been just as well that they had left, the old prudes wouldn’t have known where to look once she got going; she would have probably brought on a few heart attacks.

Jono walked on in silence. He hadn’t uttered a word since they’d left Roache’s cubicle.

Just as they reached the main doors, Dolly heard a familiar giggle. Turning around she saw Sophia, of all people, pushing an elderly lady in a wheelchair into the hospital shop.

“Oh bollocks,” Dolly said to Jono. “Can you hang on a second? I’ve got to go to the toilet. Ladies’ business, you know.” The type of bloke that Jono was, even hinting about her having a period would make him run a mile.

“Hurry up then,” Jono said impatiently. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

“Which do you fancy, Nan? Gingernuts or Hobnobs?” Sophia scanned the shelves for treats for her nan.

“If they’re the chocolate ones, go with the Hobnobs. Gingernuts don’t even come close,” said a voice from behind her.

“Dolly!” Sophia squealed. “Wow, I nearly didn’t recognise you.”

Sophia tried to hide her shock as she took in her friend’s heavily made-up face and brash clothing. She had only previously seen Dolly in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, and the most the girl had worn on her face had been tinted lip-butter. Sophia had imagined that Dolly was one of those high-class call girls, all designer labels and clients with posh motors. Every time she had told her one of her funny stories about her job, Sophia pictured Dolly’s life as full of glamour.

Knowing what Sophia was thinking, Dolly shrugged. “Well, you know I like to stand out from the crowd. My work clobber is a bit in your face, admittedly.”

Dolly grinned cheekily. She was what she was; hopefully Sophia’s opinion of her wouldn’t change now.

“Work uniform? I bet your boss makes you wear that on purpose so he can get a few cheap thrills,” Nessa interrupted from her chair. She watched the two girls embrace, guessing that this was the famous Dolly.

Copping an eyeful of Dolly’s bum cheeks as they poked out of her black shiny shorts, she added: “I think your boss could probably get done for sexual harassment. You should contact that
Watchdog
. What is it that you do?”

“Dolly works as a...”

Sophia knew that her nan was very open-minded and would always welcome her friends no matter what, but Dolly said before she could finish: “How rude of me, sorry; I’m Dolly; you must be the lovely Nessa. I’ve heard all about you. I’m an actress. First proper day out and my agent called offering me a part in a TV show, playing the role of a lady of ill-repute. Beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.”

Dolly bent down and kissed Nessa on the cheek, then winked at Sophia. Sometimes it was nice when people didn’t know what she did for a living. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, as she had been doing it far too long to let her feelings about it bother her anymore, but this way she felt less judged. And from everything that Sophia had told Dolly about her nan when they had been at Holloway, Dolly didn’t want to give the old dear any reason not to like her. She remembered how highly Sophia had spoken of her nan in prison; she wanted to make a good impression.

“An actress… oh, how lovely.” Nessa beamed. “Amazing what they can do these days; those make-up girls are so talented. Is that part of your role too?”

Nessa pointed at Dolly’s bulging and puffy lip.

“Did Trevor do that?” Sophia asked.

She knew that Dolly had been dreading her release date; she had told Sophia that she would have to face her pimp again, and he was going to go nuts at her for shunning him while she had been inside. Sophia had tried to persuade Dolly to call him, but Dolly wouldn’t listen.

“No, it wasn’t Trevor, although trust me he wasn’t happy with me. It was handbags at dawn at the gate. It was Roache who did this.”

“Oh my God,” Sophia said, clapping her hand over her mouth in shock. She had had a feeling that something had been going on between Dolly and Roache, but every time she had quizzed Dolly about, she had strongly denied it.

“It’s only a fat lip. Trust me: Cockroach ended up getting a lot worse than I did. He’s here, on one of the wards. He got brought in on my last night, problems with his wotsit, I heard,” Dolly said quietly, raising her eyebrows.

Sophia, getting the gist of what her friend was saying, giggled. It was about time that slimeball got his comeuppance and, whatever had been going on between her friend and him, Sophia was just glad that it sounded as if Dolly had been the one to get the better of the man.

“Listen, I’ve got to go, my driver,” she emphasised the last two words for Nessa’s benefit, “is waiting in the car. Here...”

Dolly took a screwed-up receipt out of her handbag and jotted down her address. “Come over tonight, if you fancy it?”

Dolly had missed her friend and couldn’t wait to tell Sophia the details of what she had done to Roache. “Trevor’s going out tonight, on a hot date, so I’ll be all on my tod. We could get a bottle of wine and a takeaway?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I can’t really leave Nan. We had a bit of trouble ourselves this morning...” Sophia trailed off, not wanting to bring up what had happened while her nan was there in case it upset her.

“Don’t you be silly, girl; you go,” Nessa said. “Go and have some fun with your friend. Dolly, can you tell her not to be so daft? I’m only in here tonight so that the doctors can keep an eye on my blood pressure. Sophia keeps acting like I’m on my death bed, insisting that she wheels me about in this poxy thing like I’m some sort of an invalid.”

“Nan!” Sophia tapped her on the shoulder playfully. It was true that she hadn’t been able to shake off the worry about the way her nan looked just before she keeled over.

Dolly thought that it wasn’t Sophia just wanting to look after her nan that was stopping her from coming over. She knew that she was wary about going to her house because of whom she lived with. And Dolly couldn’t blame her. She had told Sophia all about Trevor when she had been inside.

“Or I could come to yours? Makes no odds where we are; it’d just be nice to catch up, that’s all,” Dolly said.

Thinking of her bleak room at the halfway house, Sophia would have been mortified to have Dolly visit her there; it was so small and pokey they would both feel like they were back in their cell. But her nan was right, after she left the hospital, what was she going to do? Going home alone for another depressing night of listening to her neighbours tearing chunks out of each other was the only option if she didn’t see Dolly.

“Well, if Trevor’s definitely going to be out, I don’t see why not. Is about eight okay?”

“Great. He’ll definitely be out, so it’ll be just you and me. I’d better go now, mustn’t keep my chauffeur waiting.”

Dolly smiled and hugged Sophia once more, and then looking at Nessa said, “It was lovely to meet you, Nessa. Sophia used to say how brilliant you were all the time. Hope you feel better soon.”

Kissing the two women on their cheeks, Dolly strutted out to where Jono would no doubt be impatiently waiting.

“Well, she was rather lovely.” Nessa smiled, as they went back to choosing which biscuits to take to the ward. “You didn’t say she was an actress.”