Free Jail Bird by Jessie Keane Page A

reception now, Saz and her groom – Christ, she didn’t even know his name! – would be cutting the cake; there would be speeches, toasts, love and laughter. And here she was, standing alone, watching other people’s families having fun, not sure whether or not to go back to Becks’s place at all. She wasn’t welcome there. Fuck, she wasn’t welcome anywhere.
    She thought of her parents. Dad was gone, but Mum was still standing, so far as Lily knew. She’d live to torment, that one. She could call on her – if she really wanted to endure another hour or so of prune-faced bollocking, which was all she ever got from her mother; all she had ever got, come to that. Mum had visited her, just once, after she’d gone down for Leo’s killing. Just once, shortly after she’d first been put inside.
    She’d been new to prison life, terrified, depressed. And Mum had come in and said – God, would she ever forget those words? – ‘This is where I always thought you’d end up, Lily. You’re a bad ’un. They always say the quiet ones are the worst, and by God you’ve proved them right.’
    Did she really want more of that? Answer: no.
    She walked off across the park, going back toward Becks’s place. She’d pack up her stuff and bugger off, that was all she could do now. Find a little B & B or something. Sleep in a doorway if she had to. Anything was better than staying at Becks’s when Becks had made it plain she was surplus to requirements.
    She crossed the road and started walking back along the rows of houses toward Becks’s place when a long black car pulled in to the kerb. A man jumped out of the back, grabbed her arm, and yanked her off-balance.
    ‘Hey!’ she yelled, but her feet went from under her and she was half carried, half pulled into the car. She found herself lying across the back seat with a man on either side of her. Fear shot through her like a hot knife through butter.
    Oh shit, she thought, Freddy King.
    ‘What the…?’ she gasped out.
    One of the men, a huge bruiser, lifted a thick finger and pointed it at her. She remembered Freddy, outside the prison, pointing his finger at her like a gun. Yeah, this was Freddy’s work all right. ‘Shut up,’ he said.
    Lily shut up. The car zoomed off. She was trapped. She was finished, even before she had properly begun.

13
    There were four of them in the car, and she thought they were just going to drive her somewhere, hurt her, then finish her off. She could hear her heart beating like a trapped animal’s, she was so scared. Her bowels felt liquid, her stomach was churning into knots. Oh God. She didn’t know how she was going to get through this.
    How you get through everything, she thought. Alone.
    Her eyes filled with tears; it was weak but she couldn’t help it. She really was alone. Completely alone. Her friend had abandoned her. Her daughters, her lovely girls, had rejected her. She would never, ever forget the expressions on their faces when they’d seen her at the church. Hatred. Fear. Loathing. It was more than any mother could take.
    And now, this. The end of it all. She was terrified, but she was also sort of relieved. It would be over. All the suffering. All that time she’d done, and all for nothing. All for someone else’s crime. Now she was tired, and so alone. She didn’t mind dying; but she hoped they didn’t hurt her too much first.
    She thought they would. She saw it again, Freddy King outside Askham, aiming his finger at her, mouthing the words: You won’t see it coming.
    And guess what? She hadn’t. He’d got that right.
    The light was going as the car crunched onto gravel and skidded to a halt. Sudden silence descended. Into Lily’s mind came Saz’s face, filled with hate and horror. She screwed her eyes tight shut, held back the tears. She’d wanted so much to make things right, and now she wouldn’t get the chance. That stung her, hurt her bad. Her lovely girls. Lost to her forever.
    They flung open the car