Free Faceless by Martina Cole Page B

of joy tinged with relief.
    ‘Dad?’
    Her voice was different, quieter.
    ‘Marie. You look well, love.’
    It was the right thing to say.
    ‘How did you find me?’
    They stared at each other for long moments.
    ‘I rang Old Bill. They told me where you were, being your father, like …’
    The cold was cutting into her bones but she didn’t know where to take him. It was after six and she had to be in by six-thirty. For the first time this irked her. Suddenly she wanted to go out for the evening. Catch up on old times. Be herself.
    ‘Come in with me and we’ll have a coffee, eh?’
    Kevin nodded.
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    ‘That would be lovely.’
    He hugged her then. It was a spontaneous gesture and she hugged him back, awkwardly at first until she relaxed. They laughed together. She felt the tears then and swallowed them down. After thirteen years, close human contact seemed at odds with what she had become accustomed to and tears burned her eyes.
    ‘Oh Dad, it’s so good to see you.’
    As they walked into the building they were so wrapped up in one another that neither of them saw Lucy standing across the road, a look of complete revulsion on her face.
    Anastasia had the demons in her. She had cried literally all day and nothing was right for her. At thirteen months she was at a stroppy age and Tiffany was tired after her night on drink and drugs. She’d wanted to obliterate that scene with her new boss. Now she was paying the price.
    As the child picked up a cup of cold coffee and poured it on to the carpet Tiffany lashed out. It was a hard smack and caught the little girl unawares. She screamed with fright and pain. Immediately, Tiffany was cuddling her.
    ‘Mummy’s sorry. Mummy’s sorry,’ she repeated over and over again.
    Anastasia clung to her, hot tears pouring down her face and making her hair damp. Tiffany had never felt so bad in her life but the day had been so long. Every time she thought of what she had done last night she felt sick inside.
    She cradled the child in her arms, whispering to her and trying to make the little girl feel better. Eventually Anastasia went to sleep, still giving occasional little hiccoughing cries. As her mother laid her gently in her cot she realised the full extent of her responsibilities. The thought that her temper had got the better of her like that and made her hurt her own child filled her with such guilt and self-loathing she wanted to die.
    The flat was quiet. Too quiet.
    Normally Pat would have been round by now and Tiffany realised she had come to rely on seeing him. She had no real friends, her years in care had seen to that. Any friends she had made then she didn’t mix with now. Didn’t want to be reminded of what her early life had been like. So it was a lonely existence for her. Carole would have been welcome, because she had known Carole all her life and didn’t have to pretend to be something she wasn’t with her. But she 56
     
    knew she wouldn’t see her mother’s old friend for a while.
    Tiffany rolled herself a joint and smoked it until she felt calmer. The babysitter would be coming soon and she had to get ready for her first night’s work. The thought of leaving the child after smacking her made her feel even guiltier. But she got ready anyway.
    She wanted to really earn tonight to prove to herself that she was doing the right thing. Had done the right thing the night before.
    She gently stroked her daughter’s brow and then went and got
    ready.
    An hour later she was sitting on the bus in a heavy coat, dressed like a schoolgirl underneath and feeling ridiculous. But the money was uppermost in her mind. She suppressed every other emotion. Especially the guilt and the shame.
    Louise dished up in her usual haphazard fashion. As Kevin sipped a scalding hot cup of tea he glanced over at Lucy and caught the look she was giving him.
    ‘All right, love?’
    His voice was concerned.
    ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
    She sounded sullen.
    ‘Who you talking to?’