Taking Liberties (Liberty Chapman) Page 23

  ‘She says she paid for four grams, but Dax said two, innit.’

  ‘Dax is talking shit,’ Liberty piped up. ‘I paid for four.’

  The young man took off his baseball cap and scratched his forehead. Both front teeth were chipped, which gave him an air of cluelessness. ‘My youngers don’t make mistakes,’ he said.

  Liberty shook her head. ‘Do I look to you like I’m the one making a mistake? Someone told me to come here, they never said I’d be getting rolled.’

  ‘Ain’t nobody rolling you,’ he said.

  ‘Looks that way to me, sunshine.’ She glanced up the hallway. The flat looked fairly small, only a few rooms where Frankie could be. ‘How about we go into your kitchen and get what I’m owed?’

  He slid his cap back on, narrowed his eyes and turned to the boy. ‘Go find Dax.’

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘Am I smiling, even?’

  The boy shuffled out of the door.

  ‘So what now?’ Liberty asked.

  ‘Wait for Dax, innit.’

  ‘And how long will that take?’

  The drug-dealer didn’t answer, but fished in his back pocket and pulled out a half-smoked joint. As he lit it, he screwed up his left eye against the smoke. She needed to move out of the hall-way, check the other rooms.

  ‘Can I use the toilet?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because?’

  He brought his smoke to the side of his mouth, took a drag, exhaled through the other side. ‘Because this ain’t a fucking hotel.’

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘What do you think I’m going to do?’

  His mouth parted and the edge of the cigarette paper stuck to the skin of his lower lip. ‘You can stand outside the door, if you like.’

  Liberty tried a smile but got nothing in return. ‘Can I at least sit down? If we stand here much longer, I’ll have to pee on your carpet.’

  The dealer shook his head. ‘Lady, you are some piece of fucking work.’

  ‘It’s been said before.’ She raised an eyebrow and took one step up the hallway. When he didn’t stop her, she felt a fizz of exhilaration in every synapse. She needed to check those other rooms, and if Frankie wasn’t there, and her feeling was that he wasn’t, she needed to get out before Dax arrived and the guy in the baseball cap realized this whole thing was bullshit.

  Sol pulled out his e-cig and tried to fathom what was going on. When Chapman had been given her drugs, she’d started a row with the courier. A proper row. Then she’d virtually pushed her way into the flat. The way she’d shoved her trainer into the door reminded him of Angie. The first time he’d worked with his ex-wife, they’d been on a raid. The birds singing the dawn chorus, a milk float coming down the road in an electric whir. Angie had winked at him in the grey sunrise before the battering ram sent the front door flying off its hinges.

  Sol smiled at the thought of it. The way they’d both loved that tension before it all kicked off. The way they’d released the tension later that night; Angie pissed on Bacardi and Coke, swaying in the pub, her sticky lips at his ear whispering,‘See anything you like, pretty boy?’ He sighed and took a puff, the sickly sweet taste filling his mouth and lungs, hinting at nicotine but failing to give that hit.

  ‘You’re no longer a dirty smoker,’ Natasha had told him.

  Right.

  ‘You’ve made a decision to have a healthier life.’

  Right.

  He took another drag and was watching the door when Hassani called. ‘Anything happening at your end?’ she asked.

  ‘Not sure,’ he said.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The lawyer’s left the sister in the car and has just disappeared into a drugs house.’

  Hassani caught her breath, the excitement almost palpable. ‘No way.’

  ‘Way.’

  ‘What do you think she’s doing? Buying drugs?’

  ‘Already done that,’ Sol replied.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Hassani. ‘She’s gone all that way to buy drugs? I mean, why? She could get anything she wanted in the Cherry.’

  Sol exhaled a cloud of vapour.

  ‘Do you think they’re doing a deal?’ Hassani asked. ‘Something big?’

  Sol thought for a second. ‘No, it’s not that.’

  ‘How can you be sure? I wouldn’t be surprised if the Greenwoods wanted to expand into some serious dealing.’

  ‘I’ve seen enough deals going on in my time,’ he said. ‘This wasn’t one. It’s all just too . . . random.’

  Hassani snorted. ‘I’ve met Chapman, remember? She does not strike me as someone who does anything random. She is cold and calculating, trust me.’

  Sol cocked his head to one side. Calculating was probably a fair description of Chapman. She certainly struck him as someone who analysed every situation. You could almost hear her brain ticking, which was why what was happening right now seemed out of character. But cold? Maybe. He thought back to her in the hotel bar. She’d admitted to having no contact with her family for two decades. Now that was indeed frosty. But there had been something else too. A hint of something behind the ice wall. Or maybe he’d imagined it.

  Another younger flashed past on a bike.

  ‘Gotta go,’ Sol said, then hung up and melted back into the shadows.

  Liberty strode down the hallway, peering through the first open door to a sitting room where two lads lounged on sofas, an iPhone on a coffee-table between them playing the music she’d heard earlier.

  No Frankie. No Daisy.

  ‘Who the fuck is that?’ one shouted, as she walked to the next door.

  ‘No one,’ the dealer in the baseball cap yelled back.

  ‘So what’s she doing here, man?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Liberty pushed open the next door. ‘Toilet?’ She knew full well it wasn’t.

  ‘Not that one,’ the dealer hissed.

  Liberty found a bedroom, where a couple were asleep on the bed, fully clothed, even wearing their trainers. The dealer yanked the door handle and shut it.

  ‘Over there.’ He nodded to the door at the end of the corridor. ‘Be quick.’

  Liberty smiled and set off towards it, checking the other rooms on her way. No sign of Frankie or Daisy, as she’d suspected. The bathroom was pretty much as expected: seat up, rim covered in pubes and no paper. As she closed the door, she knew there was no way she was placing any part of her arse on that toilet. Good job she didn’t actually need to go. Instead, she pulled out her mobile and sent Crystal a text: They’re not in here.

  Now all she had to do was get the hell out of there.

  She flushed the loo and ran the tap for show. Outside, she could hear that one of the other lads was talking to the dealer with the cap. He sounded angry. Liberty turned off the tap and pressed her ear to the door.

  ‘Chill out, man,’ said the man in the cap.

  ‘Don’t tell me to chill. I’m vexed and I ain’t gonna chill, you understand me?’ the other replied.

  ‘It’s not a problem.’

  ‘How is it not a problem? There ain’t supposed to be nobody in here but us. Nobody. Especially since yesterday.’

  Liberty seized the opportunity and opened the door. Both lads looked her up and down. ‘You think she’s gonna give us any trouble?’ asked the lad in the cap.

  ‘That ain’t the point,’ said the other. ‘Nobody inside. No exceptions.’

  Liberty put up her hands. ‘Whoa there, lads, no need for an argument. If it’s a big deal, I’ll wait outside.’ She took a step in the opposite direction towards the front door.

  ‘It ain’t a big deal,’ said the one in the cap, and blocked her way.

  ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it.’ She tried to squeeze past him.

  The lad didn’t move. ‘If I say you can be here, then you can.’ He flashed his eyes at his colleague.

  Jesus, that was all she needed, a pissing contest between a couple of dealers.

  A th
ird lad appeared in the doorway of the sitting room. He was carrying the iPhone, which was still spitting out hip-hop. ‘What’s going on?’ he shouted above the noise.

  Liberty put a hand to her head. It was spinning. Any second now the boy on the bike would return with Dax and confirm that she had actually only paid for two grams of coke.

  ‘Nothing’s going on,’ yelled the lad in the cap. ‘Why is every-one getting so fucking stressed?’

  ‘You know why,’ said the second, and gave him a shove.

  ‘Don’t you fucking touch me.’

  As the two squared up to each other, the third shot down the hallway and got between them. ‘Calm it right down, bruv.’ It wasn’t clear which one he was talking to but neither listened anyway, screaming around him, trying to take a swing. Liberty knew this was her moment and ran. When she reached the door, she threw it open and rushed out into the glaring sunshine.

  As she raced away from the flat, Dax and the other boy turned the corner on their bikes. Shit. She couldn’t let them see her. She whipped her head in the opposite direction. If she ran that way, they’d have a clear view of her and would easily catch up. Shit. She scanned the block for anywhere to hide. The only place she could see was a narrow passageway between two flats further up, presumably leading to an area for bins. The boys were almost at the garden gate. She had to do something fast.

  ‘Fuck it,’ she said, and vaulted the fence into next door’s garden. Someone at the kitchen window looked directly at her, shock on his face. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, ran to the next fence and jumped that too, landing with a thump in the third garden. She didn’t even speak to the child waiting impatiently in bikini and armbands while her dad huffed, puce-faced, as he blew up a paddling-pool. Instead, she took the last fence like the athlete she most definitely was not, grunting as her hand caught on a nail. At last she was at the passageway and able to dart inside. Out of breath, she leaned against the wall, heaving, her palm stinging. She brought it to her mouth to suck at the ragged skin, but stopped dead. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  Chapter 21

  July 1986

  When Geraldine stops the car, I don’t get out.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘What on earth’s wrong with you, Lib?’

  I shrug.

  ‘Do you want to go back to Langton?’ she asks.

  I shrug again.

  ‘Well, make a decision, please. I’ve already wasted an hour of my time and half a tank of petrol.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumble.

  She sighs, turns off the engine. ‘You know, you are entitled to have some fun, Lib. Lord knows I wouldn’t call being sent around in circles at breakneck speed any fun at all, but then I’m fifty years older than you.’

  ‘It’s just easier to be on my own,’ I say.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she says. ‘But not necessarily better.’

  She gives me one of her stares, so I get out of the car. As I’m about to slam the door, she leans over and throws a fiver at me. ‘I’ll be here at ten. Don’t keep me waiting,’ she shouts, and drives away.

  I immediately wish I’d stayed with Geraldine. It’s like she acts as some sort of barrier between me and the world. Not like a brick wall. More like a riot shield. I can see through it and keep up with what’s going on but I don’t feel so naked.

  When I get to Woolie’s, Jonno’s standing there chatting to Stacey Lamb. She’s in the year below us but she’s got tits like watermelons, jiggling about under her T-shirt. I thought about stuffing bog roll down my bra but worried it might come loose on one of the rides. Now I wish I’d chanced it.

  ‘Hey oop,’ says Jonno, grinning from one jug ear to the other.

  Stacey wobbles on her white stilettos and looks me up and down. ‘Them pedal pushers new?’

  They’re not. In fact, they’re too tight and I can feel them riding up into the crack of my arse, but I don’t know how to go about asking my social worker for money for new clothes. And I can’t ask Geraldine. She already gives me so much – I don’t want to push my luck.

  ‘C’mon,’ says Jonno, and grabs my hand. ‘Let’s get going. The other lot have already gone up there.’

  I let him lead me through town to the fair, listening to him and Stacey warble on about Top of the Pops. When we arrive it takes my breath away. I’d forgotten how mad it all is. Colours crashing towards us. Red and green and yellow and pink. Lights flashing. Swing chairs fly past, a few feet from our faces, the riders screaming their heads off. The smells of chips, candyfloss and diesel hit me in the face.

  ‘Let’s get on the speedway,’ Jonno shouts, and we run towards it, kicking through the empty pop bottles and polystyrene trays. I have to laugh when Stacey’s heel gets caught in a hot dog bun.

  Jonno’s other mates are already on the ride and wave to us. I don’t wave back but I smile and they make room for me on a motorbike. I feel something behind me and realize that Jonno has jumped on the back. He presses against my spine and reaches around me to grab the handlebars. I can’t help but laugh.

  As the ride whips around and Jonno sings his head off to the music, I feel something I haven’t felt in ages. Not happy exactly, but not sad either.

  At half nine, I say I’ve got to head off.

  ‘Past your bedtime, is it?’ asks Stacey.

  ‘I’m getting a lift back,’ I say.

  ‘From who?’ Stacey asks. ‘That scruffy old woman?’

  ‘Belt up, Stacey,’ Jonno warns.

  ‘What?’ Stacey fishes into her pocket for a lip gloss and takes off the top. ‘I’m just wondering who she is.’ A couple of the other kids laugh and Stacey runs the gloss across her mouth, letting the rollerball smear her lips. ‘I don’t think I’d want to live with one of them, but maybe you’re not bothered, Lib.’ She gives an oily pout. ‘Maybe you’re like that as well.’

  Jonno grabs my arm. ‘Let’s go. I’ll walk you back.’

  I shake him off and glare at Stacey. ‘Like what exactly?’

  Stacey glances around at the others, all of them giggling now.

  ‘You’re a fucking idiot, Stacey Lamb,’ I say.

  ‘At least I’m not a lezza,’ she replies.

  I ball my fist and smack her hard in the mouth. I feel her lip burst wet against my knuckles. As she screams I hit her again, this time a punch to the stomach. When she doubles over I kick her. And I don’t stop until Jonno drags me off.

  In the cool of the passageway, the bins stinking of rotten meat, Liberty found herself looking at Sol Connolly. ‘I asked what the hell you’re doing here.’

  He gave a cough. ‘I like Brixton. Who doesn’t?’

  Liberty peered outside to check the boys hadn’t followed her. They hadn’t and were nowhere to be seen. They must have gone inside the flat. Good luck with that one, she thought. All hell was breaking loose in there. She turned back to Connolly and eyed him coolly. ‘I suppose you’ve got a reasonable explanation?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘This is police harassment,’ she said.

  He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sure that’s what you’ll say in your complaint.’

  ‘You don’t seem like you care.’

  Connolly gave a lopsided smile. ‘What can I say?’

  ‘You’re following me,’ she said. ‘You shouldn’t be.’

  He shrugged. ‘And you shouldn’t be buying drugs.’

  Liberty felt herself redden and steadfastly avoided looking at her bag where two grams of powder was sitting in a see-through plastic baggie. ‘You didn’t follow me all the way down here for that,’ she said. ‘So what’s this about?’

  ‘It’s about Daisy Clarke and Kyla Anderson and the bullshit alibi you gave your brother,’ he said. ‘It’s about finding out what the fuck’s going on.’

  She had a sudden urge to tell him everything. That she had lied for Jay because she was crippled by guilt. That anything he had or hadn’t done was not his fault but hers. That she w
as here looking for Frankie and Daisy for the very same reason. That she was trying to make everything right. Would he understand that? Would anyone? ‘Nothing’s going on,’ she said, her voice small.

  The front of Daisy’s hair had dried into hard strands and her eye-lashes were clumped together. She licked her lips and tasted their stickiness. Outside the room, Brixton Dave was raging into his phone. ‘So who is she?’he screamed. ‘What d’you mean you don’t know? I pay you to know these things, arsehole.’

  She heard a crash and a thump, presumably from him kicking the wall. Things were moving on to a whole new level. ‘Listen to me, you fucking little toerag. Get your crew and find her.’ He was panting in fury. ‘I want some fucking answers.’

  Sol appraised Chapman. He could arrest her right now for possession. In fact, that was what he should do. Arrest her, take her to the nearest nick, let the local plod deal with her. Then he could jump in his car and head to the nearest service station, fill the tank with petrol and buy some fags. He’d be home in time to take Natasha out for dinner. She loved that little Greek place with black-and-white photos on the wall.

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve got yourself into,’ he said to her. ‘I’d have thought you had too much to lose.’ She pressed her lips together. ‘But you must realize that things are spiralling out of control now, and that you need to step on the brakes.’

  She didn’t answer, didn’t even look at him, but kept her lips tightly locked.

  ‘Can you at least tell me where Daisy is?’ he asked.

  ‘Daisy?’ The word tumbled from her mouth.

  ‘Yes,’he replied. ‘Daisy Clarke. Whatever you might think about her, she’s pretty vulnerable.’

  ‘I know that—’

  Chapman was cut off mid-sentence by the arrival of three youngers on bikes who stopped and blocked the entrance to the passageway he and she were in. The sound of spokes and brakes told Sol that the exit behind him was similarly obstructed.

  Chapman’s eyes widened as she, too, understood their predicament. ‘Well, this isn’t good.’

  One of the boys jumped off his BMX. Sol recognized him as the one Chapman had bought her drugs from. ‘Why are you chatting shit about me, bitch?’ Spit flew from his mouth. ‘Saying I rolled you when I never.’