Fighting for Survival (The Estate, Book 3) (21 page)

‘I did! She jumped me.’

Gina saw red. This had got to stop.

‘I’ve had enough of this,’ she said. ‘I’m going round to see Maggie Hunter.’

‘No, Mum.’ Claire’s head turned abruptly. ‘Me and Rach will sort it.’

‘You’ll do no such thing. I’ll give her mother what for, letting her daughter attack one of mine.’

‘Mum, please!’ Claire pushed a mug of tea over to her before picking up the other two. ‘We can handle it ourselves.’

‘Claire!’

Knowing she wasn’t going to listen, Gina let Claire scoot off back to her room, She sipped at her tea and wondered what she had done to get a pasting like that; was it over some lad or another or were she and Rachel still playing this leader of the pack thing? She knew she could sort out Stacey’s mother if it became necessary. Gina might only be five foot two, but she’d been told she packed a mean punch, especially if her girls were in trouble.

‘Do you think this will be okay?’

Caren looked up to see John taking out a jacket from the wardrobe. She watched as he slid it on, fitting into it easily even though it was a few years old.

‘I don’t see why not,’ she replied. ‘It’ll save buying something new, which we can’t afford to do anyway. Here.’ She handed him a couple of ties.

‘Does anyone bother with these anymore?’

‘Maybe not but I think first impressions count.’

John placed one over each shoulder. ‘Any preference?’ he asked.

She pointed to the blue one with a faint check. ‘This one,’ she said. ‘Do you need a new white shirt? I can get you one from Tesco, if you like.’

‘Tesco?’

‘You can get anything from there nowadays – good quality too.’

John was in the wardrobe again, pulling another shirt from a coat hanger. ‘I reckon this one will be okay.’

Caren sat down on the bed with a thump. This was John’s first interview in years, having worked for himself for so long. She wondered if he’d cope with the pressure. The job was only for a service advisor on the parts counter of the local Landrover dealer but she knew it was what he needed. And what
they
needed to get themselves back on track – and away from that nasty Bradley family.

Since the episode with Gina, things had settled down again. John had spent more time with her. They’d talked about their future: their worries. She’d told him how scared she was at the thought of being stuck in Stanley Avenue forever. He’d told her that he felt inferior because he couldn’t provide for her; didn’t feel like a man she’d want around her anymore. It had done them both good to get their feelings out in the open. And then yesterday, he’d come home with a huge grin, telling her he’d got a job interview.

John twirled round to face her, the shirt underneath the jacket. ‘What do you think? Will I pass?’

Caren smiled, feeling her insides responding. Wow, she’d forgotten how good he looked in a suit.

‘I think you scrub up pretty well, Mr Williams.’ She gave him a hug, relishing the feel of his arms as he pulled her near. ‘What I actually mean by that is I’d far rather see you with no clothes on at all.’

She began unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

Ruth hadn’t slept much the night before. The idea had come to her in a flash; she’d thought about nothing else since, so much so that she’d started to pace the room in the early hours of the morning. It was the perfect opportunity, the only opportunity really. Should she do it? Would it be the right thing to do? It would certainly be better for the boys.

Then doubt crept in. She knew what she had to do but would she be strong enough to do it? What right did she have to inflict such pain? To walk away from her troubles – pass them on to someone else.

But it would be much better for them all in the long term. For Mason and Jamie, and for her. This way, she wouldn’t be able to harm them.

She was in the kitchen bright and early the next day. Mason and Jamie came downstairs, wary after the antics the night before. As she saw them creeping in sheepishly, she realised she was making the right choice. She gave them breakfast, keeping a cheery attitude that must have confused them after last night’s tricks. Then when they had finished their cereal, she sat down with them.

‘How would you like to go on an adventure today, boys?’ she asked, trying to muster enthusiasm into her tone.

‘No school?’

‘No school.’ 

Mason and Jamie looked at each other wide-eyed.

‘Cool!’ said Jamie.

‘Where are we going?’ asked Mason suspiciously.

‘It’s a surprise. I’ve packed you some clothes and I want you to pick a few of your favourite toys – not the big ones, mind – and I’ll put them in your bags too.’

‘Are we staying out all night?’ Jamie wiggled his bottom about in the chair. ‘Can we go to a safari park? I want to see some lions. And wolves. And an – an elephant!’

‘We won’t be going to a safari park!’ Mason’s tone was scathing at his brother’s ignorance. ‘We’ll be going to stay with Martin.’

‘No, we’re not going to see Martin.’ Ruth gathered together the breakfast dishes. ‘Today we’re going somewhere else. And we need to be ready in twenty minutes. Can you do that?’

Jamie and Mason rushed upstairs. She sighed, trying to keep in her frustration: why were they so bloody noisy all the time? Still, it would be much quieter later when they weren’t around to bug her anymore. She squirted some washing-up liquid into the bowl and ran the hot water tap. Then she threw in the dishes, leaving them to soak. She needed to get herself ready quickly; she didn’t want her heart to get the chance to rule her head.

Less than an hour later, they were in the town centre. Ruth had taken them into the market to get a bag of pic’n’mix sweets and a comic apiece to keep them quiet. Then she walked into the Social Services offices, sat the boys down on the settee inside the window and went to speak to the lady on reception. The office was busy, but she bided her time in the small queue. As she reached the head of it, the woman gave her an unexpected smile.

‘Can I help you,’ she asked, whipping away her long blonde fringe to reveal friendly eyes.

‘I need someone to take care of my boys,’ said Ruth.

‘In what way exactly?’ The woman popped a form onto the counter. ‘Can you fill your details in here?’

‘No, you don’t understand. I’m leaving my boys here with you. The oldest is Mason and he’s ten. The younger one is eight and he’s called Jamie.’ The woman reached for the phone and dialled an extension number as Ruth started to cry. ‘Please,’ she sobbed, aware that people were beginning to stare. ‘Please don’t split them up. They don’t deserve that. It’s my fault, you see. I can’t be their mother. I can’t look after them. So you must do it for me.’ Then she turned away.

‘Wait!’ the woman shouted as people started to stare. ‘Please! You can’t just leave them here!’

‘What’s up, Mum?’ Mason asked as she came back to them.

Ruth knelt down and pulled him into her arms. She beckoned to Jamie and hugged him too. ‘I want you to be good boys now,’ she said. ‘Can you do that for me?’

‘Why, where are you going?’ asked Jamie.

‘I – I won’t be a minute,’ she said. ‘I need to pop out for something. Wait here, will you?’ She turned to Mason and touched his face lightly. ‘Look after your brother, Mason. You’re strong enough to do that. I’m not. Always keep him safe and…’ she swallowed her anguish and kept her tears inside, ‘look after him. Please.’

‘Mum, what are you doing?’ Sensing something was wrong, Mason clung to her. She pushed him away gently but firmly.

‘I love you both,’ she whispered. Then she walked away.

‘Mum!’

‘Where is she going, Mase?’ asked a bewildered Jamie. He ran to her.

Ruth hugged him fiercely. ‘I’ll be back in a moment. Go and sit with your brother.’

She was stopped at the door by a man with a child in a pushchair. ‘You won’t be back,’ he said. ‘You can’t leave them here. They’re too young to understand.’

‘I can’t…’ Ruth fought to control a scream building up inside. She turned to look at them one more time. ‘I can’t… I just can’t anymore.’

Before anyone could stop her, she ran out of the building and disappeared into the shoppers on the high street. She didn’t stop, she didn’t look back for fear of returning. Instead, she walked until she could see no more for tears and sat down. She ended up in the bus station; sat there for over an hour before climbing on a bus and heading back to Stanley Avenue. She had never felt so alone in her life. But she knew she had made the right decision.   

Caren spotted their car returning and went out to John. Desperate to hear how he’d got on at the interview, she ran down the path.

‘Well?’ she wanted to know. ‘How did it go?’

John shrugged. ‘It was okay, I suppose. But there were so many guys after it. Some of them were much younger than me.’

‘You’re hardly an old-timer,’ she said, noting his dejection.

‘It didn’t feel that way.’

‘Did they say when they’d let you know?’

John locked the car up and walked up the path with her. ‘No, they said they’d contact me in due course.’

Caren tried hard not to show how miserable she felt. It didn’t sound too hopeful, especially if there were a lot of men out for it.

‘Was the pay good?’

‘Not bad, but I doubt it matters now.’

‘Don’t be too down-hearted.’ She took his hand.

Suddenly, John grinned. ‘Oh, ye of little faith. I got it!’

‘What – they told you, just like that?’

‘Yep, I was the last one to be interviewed so they made we wait outside while they had a chat and then called me back in to tell me!’ 

Caren squealed and jumped into his arms. ‘That’s fantastic! Oh, I knew you could do it!’

‘Like hell you did!’

‘I did!’ She paused. ‘Wait a minute! You tricked me, you git!’

‘You’re so easy to fool.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Let’s go out for lunch to celebrate. I’m starving – all that nervous energy.’

 ‘You mean she left them in reception?’ Josie said, her tone incredulous.

‘Exactly that, poor mites. They had no idea she wasn’t coming back. I haven’t been able to get hold of her since.’

Josie was making coffee for Sarah Cunningham, a social worker she had known for about seven years. Sarah had been helping her out at The Workshop since it opened too, and Josie knew if it wasn’t for her, some of the women would never have come along. Both known for their persuasion tactics, between them, they were a great team – which is why Sarah had called in especially to see Josie.

Josie handed her a mug of coffee. ‘And have you caught up with her since?’

‘No.’ Sarah shook her head, messy but stylish curls flicking from side to side. ‘I’ve called several times over the past couple of days but either she’s not in or she’s not answering the door. I’ll keep on trying over the next few days but I’m not sure what to do after that. I’ve taken the case on but I’ve never had anything like this happen before. She said she wasn’t a fit mother and they’d be better off without her.’

Josie sat down at her desk with her drink. She swivelled from side to side on her chair. ‘She must have been in one hell of a state to get to that conclusion,’ she noted. ‘I’ve been calling for weeks now, only managed to get in a couple of times before the barrier dropped completely. I haven’t seen her since.’

 Sarah sighed. ‘It really gets to you when you can’t get through to someone, doesn’t it?’

Josie nodded.

‘How was she when you did see her?’

‘She’d only just moved in so I assumed she was busy, and maybe a little pissed off to be moving into Stanley Avenue.’

‘It’s not that bad.’

‘Not unless you live opposite or next to one of the Bradleys,’ Josie retorted.

The next morning, when Sarah Cunningham knocked on her door again, Ruth lay in bed curled up in the foetal position, a photo of her boys in her hand. It was half past eleven and she hadn’t got up yet. She ignored the knock but the next one was much louder. She closed her eyes and drew her feet up further. Whoever it was would go away soon.

The letterbox clattered and she heard something drop onto the floor. She wondered who it would be this time – the housing office; the social; the police? Of them all, she was scared of the latter most. It must be a crime to dump your children in an office and run away, like she had, surely? To leave a ten and an eight-year-old to fend for themselves, chuck them into a new way of family life, or worse, into a children’s home because no one would want two brothers – she’d heard stories on the news and read them in the papers. Some adoptive parents only wanted one child; they didn’t want to take on the responsibility of two. But then again, what did the media know? Maybe they’d got it wrong. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and imagined Mason and Jamie being put into the loving care of a man and woman who would look after them as their own, not for the money as she’d read about people doing too.