bird, that’s who.’
‘So what if I am?’ In a parody of a black woman’s voice, holding up his hand he cried, ‘I don’t see no ring on my finger, baby.’
Tiffany knew she was defeated, inside her drink-fuddled mind she knew it, but reason was tossed aside.
‘If you go to another bird then we are finished, right?’
It sounded childish even in her own ears.
‘Fair enough. Goodbye, Tiff
He was hard, so hard, and he loved it.
‘Give me some money.’
49
‘Bollocks! You want to be Miss Independent, you get your own money.’
‘I need a cab. I need to get home to our child.’
Pat laughed.
‘You make me fucking die. You really think you are something else, don’t you? Why do you think I got you that job, Tiff? It was to get shot of you, my love. I knew you were just like your mother, that you’d blow that fat cunt for the money. It’s in the blood, love. Enjoy it, did you?’
Somehow Tiffany had believed Patrick would never find out what she had done. It had never occurred to her that he could have set her up for the night’s events. She felt suddenly sick, her stomach rebelling at the alcohol and the unpalatable truth. She walked unsteadily from the room.
Outside in the street the cold hit her and she pulled her coat tighter around her. Then the tears came, maudlin tears because she felt so sorry for herself. A little later she heard Pat’s BMW. He passed her by without a second glance.
As drunk as she was, she’d learned a valuable lesson. She was alone with her daughter, and would always be alone. It was a sobering thought. She had crossed a boundary tonight and she knew it. But it was a boundary she would have to cross frequently to keep her head above water and give her child all the things she herself had never had.
Carole had once said that Pat had brought her mother to ruin. Finally it occurred to Tiffany that she might have been right about that. Because if he had treated her mother as he had just treated her, then it must be right.
Tiffany threw up in the gutter and it made her feel physically better at least. But the mental wounds would take a lot longer to heal.
50
Chapter Four
Alan Jarvis was pleased with Marie. The office looked so different. It was clean and he could find anything he wanted. The VAT man would be happy about that too. He had even taken down the more lurid calendars though Marie had never said a word about them. It felt odd coming in in the mornings. There was fresh milk for his coffee and now the place didn’t have that unkempt odour that used to cling to his clothes and hair.
He kept his sidelines private so Marie had no knowledge of what went on here late at night, and that suited them both. Alan was in over his head there and he knew it. But the money was phenomenal.
Marie had the computer up and running and also had everything but his private business on disk. It was great to come in and see her sitting there in her black suit. She was easy to be around. Unlike most of the women of his acquaintance, she didn’t feel the urge to talk all the time. His ex-wife Beverley could talk for the Olympics and get the gold. It was one of the things he had eventually hated about her.
He liked the way Marie was quiet, in her voice and demeanour. He was pleased he had employed her. He only hoped he could pass over all the legal, stuff to her soon and then he could get on with his other businesses in peace. This place was a good front and he knew it.
‘You had a few parcels turn up.’
He nodded.
‘I’ve been expecting them, Marie. Where are they?’
‘I put them in the back office. I know it’s none of my business but they have “Medical Supplies” written on them.’
Alan frowned. ‘Do they?’
He walked into the back office and cursed his associate in France who was so thick he thought he could get away with that scam in a scrapyard.
51
‘Leave it with me, Marie. I’ll sort it out. Now have you mastered the overseas stuff yet? Africa is
‘So what if I am?’ In a parody of a black woman’s voice, holding up his hand he cried, ‘I don’t see no ring on my finger, baby.’
Tiffany knew she was defeated, inside her drink-fuddled mind she knew it, but reason was tossed aside.
‘If you go to another bird then we are finished, right?’
It sounded childish even in her own ears.
‘Fair enough. Goodbye, Tiff
He was hard, so hard, and he loved it.
‘Give me some money.’
49
‘Bollocks! You want to be Miss Independent, you get your own money.’
‘I need a cab. I need to get home to our child.’
Pat laughed.
‘You make me fucking die. You really think you are something else, don’t you? Why do you think I got you that job, Tiff? It was to get shot of you, my love. I knew you were just like your mother, that you’d blow that fat cunt for the money. It’s in the blood, love. Enjoy it, did you?’
Somehow Tiffany had believed Patrick would never find out what she had done. It had never occurred to her that he could have set her up for the night’s events. She felt suddenly sick, her stomach rebelling at the alcohol and the unpalatable truth. She walked unsteadily from the room.
Outside in the street the cold hit her and she pulled her coat tighter around her. Then the tears came, maudlin tears because she felt so sorry for herself. A little later she heard Pat’s BMW. He passed her by without a second glance.
As drunk as she was, she’d learned a valuable lesson. She was alone with her daughter, and would always be alone. It was a sobering thought. She had crossed a boundary tonight and she knew it. But it was a boundary she would have to cross frequently to keep her head above water and give her child all the things she herself had never had.
Carole had once said that Pat had brought her mother to ruin. Finally it occurred to Tiffany that she might have been right about that. Because if he had treated her mother as he had just treated her, then it must be right.
Tiffany threw up in the gutter and it made her feel physically better at least. But the mental wounds would take a lot longer to heal.
50
Chapter Four
Alan Jarvis was pleased with Marie. The office looked so different. It was clean and he could find anything he wanted. The VAT man would be happy about that too. He had even taken down the more lurid calendars though Marie had never said a word about them. It felt odd coming in in the mornings. There was fresh milk for his coffee and now the place didn’t have that unkempt odour that used to cling to his clothes and hair.
He kept his sidelines private so Marie had no knowledge of what went on here late at night, and that suited them both. Alan was in over his head there and he knew it. But the money was phenomenal.
Marie had the computer up and running and also had everything but his private business on disk. It was great to come in and see her sitting there in her black suit. She was easy to be around. Unlike most of the women of his acquaintance, she didn’t feel the urge to talk all the time. His ex-wife Beverley could talk for the Olympics and get the gold. It was one of the things he had eventually hated about her.
He liked the way Marie was quiet, in her voice and demeanour. He was pleased he had employed her. He only hoped he could pass over all the legal, stuff to her soon and then he could get on with his other businesses in peace. This place was a good front and he knew it.
‘You had a few parcels turn up.’
He nodded.
‘I’ve been expecting them, Marie. Where are they?’
‘I put them in the back office. I know it’s none of my business but they have “Medical Supplies” written on them.’
Alan frowned. ‘Do they?’
He walked into the back office and cursed his associate in France who was so thick he thought he could get away with that scam in a scrapyard.
51
‘Leave it with me, Marie. I’ll sort it out. Now have you mastered the overseas stuff yet? Africa is
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