Maps of Hell. Paul Johnston

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СКАЧАТЬ tanked up and full of himself, she had a go, gave it some verbal, and then he thought he’d have a go. Funny how you remember these things.’

      Something was required of her. Annie worked some spittle into her dry mouth and swallowed before she could speak.

      ‘What happened?’ she asked, trying to make it sound casual.

      ‘I broke his arm,’ said Max. ‘In two places. Men who beat up women are scum. They’re not men at all.’

      Annie nodded. It was too soon to feel relieved, but still, she did. She knew Max had a strict code of honour. A man on equal terms, fair game. Women or children, forget it. So she was safe enough. And yet, she doubted it. He was seriously pissed off with her, that much was plain.

      ‘Why did you do it, Annie?’ Max asked.

      Annie shook her head. It was all a jumble. All those years of being second-best with Ruthie forever the favourite. All those small slights and hurts that had somehow burrowed beneath her skin until they formed one huge uncomfortable boil, that somehow had to be lanced. When she had whispered in Ruthie’s ear on her wedding day there had been one blissful moment of utter release. At last, she had her revenge. But then there had been the numb hurt on Ruthie’s face, Ruthie who had always been kind to her, even when she was far from deserving it.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said hopelessly. It was all a mess, muddied by rivalry and bitter black hatred and deep despairing love.

      Max suddenly grabbed her chin and dragged her face close to his.

      ‘What do you mean, “I don’t know”?’ he snarled. ‘You wreck your sister’s happiness, you piss me off, and you say “I don’t know”? What the fuck’s all that about, Annie? What the bloody hell did you go and do that for?’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ said Annie.

      ‘You’re sorry? You don’t know the meaning of the fucking word yet, girl.’

      Yet. Too soon to be relieved, then. Far too soon. Her jaw was aching in his grip, but she kept still.

      ‘I told you it was a one-off. I told you to keep it buttoned. What did you think, that I was having a laugh or something? That I didn’t mean it? Do you think I say things I don’t mean, Annie Bailey? For fuck’s sake, say something.’

      ‘I’ve got no excuse,’ said Annie, closing her eyes with the pain. ‘She got on my nerves, all right? She was so smug and self-satisfied.’

      ‘Well you must be pleased now. She’s in fucking bits.’

      Yeah, I should be pleased, thought Annie. But somehow I’m not. There were all these confusing images in her mind. Ruthie at ten, giving Annie a lick of her ice cream when she’d dropped her own on the mucky pavement. Ruthie picking her up and dusting her down when she fell over and scraped her knee. Ruthie defending her when she committed the indefensible and was down for a hiding from Mum. Ruthie, Ruthie, Ruthie. She hated her and loved her in equal measures. After the relief of hurting her had come the remorse. A sick, soul-eating remorse that had been gnawing at her ever since.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ muttered Annie. ‘All right?’

      ‘No, it ain’t all right.’ Max released her with a derisory flick that sent her reeling back against the car door. The expression on his face was one of complete disgust. ‘What a selfish little tart you are,’ he said.

      Annie rubbed her jaw. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ she said bitterly. ‘That’s me.’

      ‘Go on, bugger off.’

      Annie stared at him.

      ‘Bugger off!’ yelled Max. ‘And keep the fuck out of my way in future, or you’ll be sorry.’

      Annie hardly knew she had opened the door, but she tumbled out on to the pavement. Tony, the driver, was there in an instant, plonking her suitcase down at her side as she scrambled to her feet. He stepped into the driver’s seat, and the car pulled away. Annie was left there, the rain beating down on her head. With nowhere else to turn, she started walking up the road towards Limehouse, towards her only possible place of refuge.

       9

      ‘She told me you’d be coming,’ said Aunt Celia when she opened the door and found Annie there, wet, bedraggled, and clutching a suitcase.

      Annie was irritated to be so obvious. But where else could she have gone? Connie would have lost no time in spreading the word about her tryst with Max, and all the relations would side with little angel Ruthie against her; they always had. Annie’s best friend was Kath, her cousin, but she was on Mum’s side of the family, and her mother would kick up bloody hell if she knew Annie had been in touch and got a good response. Bailey family bonds were strong. Max’s influence was even stronger.

      But Connie detested her husband’s sister, Celia. Annie didn’t know why. She said ‘that family’ were all the same; wasters and thieves. Annie hadn’t seen Celia for years. She hadn’t even been sure that she still lived in the same place. Celia and Connie had had a major falling-out when Dad left and all contact had been lost. But here she was, still in the same large Edwardian semi. Still pretty – although slightly faded. Still with that same wry smile on her face, still wearing her neat two-piece suits, still with a fag in her hand. The fag was still stuck in an ivory holder, too.

      ‘Tarty bloody piece,’ Connie had always said of Celia with a sneer. ‘Poncing around all affected with that thing in her mouth, thinks she’s the fucking Empress of India.’

      But Annie had always liked her chic aunt.

      ‘I had nowhere else to go,’ said Annie.

      ‘She’s fucking mad at you,’ said Celia.

      ‘I did a stupid thing.’

      ‘We all do stupid things, Annie. She said I wasn’t to take you in under any circumstances.’

      ‘Oh.’ Annie’s shoulders dropped. Her feet were killing her, she was worn out; now Celia was going to turn her away.

      ‘She didn’t tell me why, though.’ Celia opened the door wider. ‘Come on in, then, and spill the beans. Put the wood in the hole after you.’

      ‘I slept with Max Carter,’ said Annie as they sat at the kitchen table. Celia’s dark, glittering eyes lit up.

      ‘You never did,’ she said breathlessly.

      ‘The night before the wedding.’ Annie sipped her tea. Nice and warm. The kitchen was cosy. She’d been frozen to the bone out there in the rain. This was lovely.

      Celia let out a plume of smoke. ‘Never!’

      ‘And I told Ruth I’d done it. On her wedding day.’

      Her aunt clicked her tongue in disbelief. ‘Fucking hell. What did you want to go and do that for?’

      ‘I told you it was stupid.’

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ