Whisper My Last Goodbye Page 9

  Joanne looked wounded, there was not a single mention of her staying in to watch Joseph. She sat with her arms folded and had a face like a smacked arse. All that time and effort she’d put in for a night on the tiles was wasted. No dancing, no copping off, nothing, just a boring night sat in front of the television. Her phone got a text alert and she checked nobody was looking before she answered it. Once she replied she sat back and smirked, humming a song.

  Harpur plodded upstairs and headed into the bathroom. The place was a pig sty, there were wet towels everywhere. Lifting her head slightly, she clocked the toothpaste squirted all over the white sink. The bath was still full of dirty water and the cold tap was dripping. Pulling the plug out, she sat on the toilet seat and waited for the bath to empty. She inhaled and looked at the side of her, there was aftershave left with the lid still off. This was Neil’s favourite one too, his Armani one. She looked puzzled and held her head to the side. Her husband only really wore this when it was a special occasion; weddings, christenings. He would never waste it, he was too much of a penny pincher. When Sam was at home he would go ballistic if he ever found out he’d been using it. The heated arguments they’d had in the past about him using Neil’s stuff was endless. You see, Neil didn’t really know how to share. In some things he was selfish, a brat in fact. Sam knew how much it wound his stepfather up and Harper was sure he only used it to cause some friction in the household. Harpur reached over and screwed the gold top back on the bottle. If Joseph would have got his hands on this he would have squirted it all over the place. It would have been Neil’s own fault too. Fancy leaving expensive aftershave lying about where anyone could their hands on it anyway.

  Harpur looked down at the floor again and in the corner she could see Joanne’s dirty underwear, just left there for everyone to see. Did this girl have no shame? There were men in the house too. Harpur stood up and walked towards them with a look of disgust in her eye. As she picked them up with the tips of her fingers she cringed. “Dirty cow,” she mumbled under her breath. Harpur swilled the bath out now and put the silver plug in the bottom of the bath. All she needed was a nice hot bath to ease her stress and worries. Sticking her finger slightly under the hot tap her cheeks were bright red, she clenched her teeth together tightly. Bleeding hell, there was no hot water. “I’m sick to death of this house. Does anyone ever think that I might like a hot bath every now and then?” Oh, she was on one now. She hurried to the bathroom door and yanked it open. If Joanne would have been in her bedroom she would have given her a mouthful. Here she was grafting all day long and Joanne just jumps in the bath with no consideration for her or anyone else in the house either. She should have got washed early in the day, not waited until she was ready to come home from work. Things were going to change in this house for sure. Starting from tomorrow she was telling them all that she was no longer a maid for them. Let’s see what happens then when she’s stopped picking stuff up after them all the time. They’d see then exactly how much she actually did in the house. Yes, fuck them all, she was putting her foot down.

  *

  Harpur sat in the car waiting for Bridget to come out of her house, she was late again. She sat playing with her phone when a message from Dessie came through, she smiled softly and sat twisting her hair around her finger as she looked at it. He just seemed to cheer her up, know the times when she was feeling down. She opened the message and started to read.

  “Hi there, thanks for your message. I can’t ever imagine you being hanging or not pretty anymore. Stop being boring and let’s Skype. What’s wrong ay, scared you might still fancy me? Love Dessie.”

  Harpur fanned her fingers in front of her face, she was having a hot flush. This guy was so upfront, he just said what he thought and the cheek of him even suggesting that she fancied him, what on earth was he thinking? Harpur had a mischievous look on her face as she started to type a reply. There was no way he was getting the upper hand with her, she was retaliating.

  “Hi there, Mr Full of Yourself, why on earth would I still fancy you? Get over yourself, you're yesterday’s news. I think it’s maybe you who still has a crush on me don’t you think? Ok, let’s Skype soon. Get a wash and make a bit of an effort too if you’re trying to impress me. We’ll soon see who fancies who? Love Harpur X”

  She added some laughing emoji faces and pressed the send button. That would shut him up, let’s see what he had to say about that. Inside she was excited, something was happening. Although this was just a few text messages it was making her feel alive again; smiling, refreshed. They were messaging each other all day long now, non-stop. The car door opened quickly and a strong gust of wind flew in behind Bridget. “Sorry I’m late. You know what I’m like. I just always end up getting distracted. So, fill me in, what’s been going on?”

  Harpur flicked the ignition over and started to pull onto the main road. “Nothing much really. Well, Neil’s out tonight for football so I’m in no rush to get home. I swear to you, I walked in from work and the house was such a shit-tip. Neil was running about like a blue-arsed fly getting ready and Lady Muck was caked in make-up getting ready for a big night out on the town. Honest, on my life, Joseph was downstairs on his own watching television while she totted herself up. I’m sure she forgets she’s got a kid. Bone idle isn’t the word for her.”

  Bridget pulled the car mirror down and started to apply a baby pink coloured lip gloss, her mouth open slightly. “More fool you then. There is no way in this world that I would run about after them like you do all the time. Tell her to piss off back to her own mother’s anyway. I can’t see why she’s even staying at your house to start with. She’s a woman, not a bleeding kid. Let her stand on her own two feet.”

  Harpur was driving now, concentrating. “Her own mother threw her out when Joseph was a small baby. They don’t get on well, they never used to anyway. I just feel while Sam is in prison that I should help her out. It’s hard work on your own with a small child. I should know, I’ve been there.”

  “But she’s not your problem. Okay, if she helped out a bit in the house, put a wash on or hoovered up and made your life a bit easier, that would be fine but from what you tell me, she doesn’t do a tap, she’s a lazy bitch if you ask me. Either you step up and tell her straight or stop moaning about it.” Harpur shook her head, why did she even think she would get a bit of sympathy from her friend anyway? Bridget was hard like that. It was her way or the highway. As they sat in the car waiting for the traffic lights to change Harpur changed the subject, she was sick to death of doom and gloom. “You never guess what, me and Dessie have been sending messages to each other for days now. The cheeky get said I still fancy him. He wants to Skype me, you know, video chat.”

  Bridget was listening eagerly, urging her to continue. “No way, what did you say?”

  Harpur tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “At first I thought no way, but I’m going to chat with him and have a bit of banter. It’s what my life needs at the moment. He cheers me up. I know I’m married but, what the hell. What harm can it do anyway.”

  Bridget knew this would have happened sooner or later and she was smiling. “Well, get yourself in the hairdressers and sort your hair out, perhaps a spray tan too and book to get your nails done. If you’re going to see Dessie Ryan you better make sure you are top notch, show him what he missed out on. Has he said anything about his wife to you?"

  “No, there are no photographs of her either. I think he’s going through a rough patch like me.” As the traffic started to move again, Harpur started to giggle to herself. She turned the radio up and started singing. Bridget watched her from the corner of her eye. Things were moving on nicely, just like she’d hoped they would. Dessie Ryan was just the medicine her friend needed at a time like this.

  The car pulled up outside her mother’s house. Just the look of the place had misery written all over it; dark, dreary and morbid. Harpur let out a laboured breath and looked over at Bridget. “You know she’s going to kick off don�
��t you. She’s already told me she doesn’t want Tony anywhere near the house but I’m not listening. I need to see him, to speak to him and see what he knows.”

  Bridget scratched the top of her head and hesitated before she spoke. “Perhaps your mam is right. Tony can’t bring Brady back can he and seeing him, well, it just brings it all back to her doesn’t it?”

  “For crying out loud Bridget, please stick with me on this one. I don’t need you saying that in front of my mam. I thought you had my back?”

  “I do, but I’m just saying that’s all. You know what she’s like. And I don’t want to be sat there when she kicks off with you.” Harpur opened the car door. A text alert sounded but she ignored it and locked the car up once Bridget was out of the other side. The girls walked down the garden path together. Bridget slowed down a bit and let Harpur take the lead. She was just there for support, she wanted no part of this family drama.

  Harpur walked into the living room and Sheila was watching Coronation Street. She held a single finger up at them both and never took her eyes from the television. “Not a word, be quiet until this has gone off. We’re going to find out who killed her now.” Harpur rolled her eyes and sat down on a chair. They both knew not to mutter a single word until the show was over. She was like that Sheila, she loved her soaps, she really thought they were real people with real lives. Everyone told her it was make-believe but she chose to ignore them. This was reality in her eyes, a real street with people she was familiar with. Not a word was whispered until the episode was over. Sheila sat back in her seat and shook her head. “We’ve waited weeks now to find out who did it and now I’ve got to wait until Friday until they reveal who knocked her off. I suppose it keeps the viewing up but to tell you the truth it does my head in. They just kick the arse out of every storyline when they should just reveal who it was and not have you holding on for weeks.”

  At last, they could talk. Sheila popped a fag into her mouth and lit it. She sucked hard and both sides of her cheeks sank in. It was fair to say she was a heavy smoker and since Brady had passed away she had been chain smoking. Harpur followed suit and sparked one up too. Sheila squinted her eyes together and checked the wall clock. “What are you doing here at this time anyway?”

  Bridget shuffled about in her chair and kept her head down. Here it was, the start of World War Three. “I told you earlier that Tony was calling here to see you. Plus, I wanted a quick word with him too.”

  Sheila gritted her teeth and twisted her head quickly towards her daughter. “What did I tell you about having him around here? He’s a scumbag, nothing less. He said he was Brady’s mate but has he been near here since he’s been gone?” Her eyes were wide open waiting on an answer. “Has he bleeding hell. So do me a favour, if he knocks on this door tell him to piss off before I do.”

  “Mam, don’t be like that with him. When Brady was here you always let him in, it must be hard for him too.”

  Bridget sat fidgeting, this was going to blow soon she was sure of it. “Are you having a laugh or what? I let him in here so Brady wouldn’t go out with him. It was him feeding him the drugs, helping him score. He’s a dirty no-good lying bastard. And now my son’s gone I don’t have to be nice to him anymore. He’s a smackhead who cares about no one but himself. That’s the thing with people like him, they’re selfish, they’ve got no morals. He knew Brady was trying to get clean yet he made him go back to his old life all the time. It was him, yes him, who’s to blame for our Brady not being here now.”

  Harpur wasn’t taking it anymore, she snapped. “Are you for real or what? Nobody forced Brady to take drugs. He was his own person. He never gave a shit about anyone when he was off his head on drugs and you know it. You just blamed everyone else for the way he was. Face it mother, Brady was responsible for his own actions, nobody else.”

  Sheila smashed her clenched fist on the arm of the chair, dust flew into the air. “Don’t you ever say I didn’t know what my son was! I knew every little seedy secret he had. More than you will ever know. He was an addict, look the word up and see what it means. I’ll tell you shall I, and save you the time.” Harpur sat back in her chair and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “It means he could not survive without the drugs. He had an addiction. That means he had to have heroin every day to make him function. So don’t you come around here on your high horse preaching to me about what happened to my son.”

  Harpur wasn’t backing down, no way. “Tony knows what went on and I’m going to get to the bottom of it, like it or not.”

  Sheila hissed over at her, she was being sarcastic now. “And who are you all of a sudden? The police investigated it all and found nothing. They left no stone unturned so keep your bleeding nose out and concentrate on your own life. Stop trying to hurt everybody when we should be putting this behind us.”

  Harpur snarled over at her mother. She could be so evil with her mouth, ruthless she was when she started. Well, so much for having a chat with Sheila, it had all backfired on her. “Bridget, are we ready to go. I’ll wait in the car for Tony. What’s the point of bringing him in here when all she wants to do is verbally abuse him.”

  Sheila nodded her head. “At least you got that right. So when you see him, tell him from me to never darken my door again or he will feel my foot right up his arse. Tell him to keep away from me.”

  Bridget stood but in truth she didn’t know where to look. She kept her voice low as Harpur marched past her in a strop. “Take care Sheila, see you soon.” There was no reply from Harpur’s mother, not a word, she just plonked down in her seat and changed the television channel. The front door slammed shut and Sheila looked up at the large photograph of her son hanging on the wall in front of her. “See what you have caused. It’s a mess, a bloody big pile of shit. I hope you’re happy now.”

  Harpur dropped her head onto the steering wheel. “Why did I ever expect anything else from her? I swear, she bugs the life out of me sometimes. She thinks she knows it all when she knows fuck all.”

  “You knew what she would say. Can’t say I didn't warn you.”

  “Oh, you can piss off as well if you're sticking up for her. Did you hear the way she talks to me? Come on, that would wind anybody up. She’s hysterical every time I mention our kid. It’s like I’m not supposed to have any feelings where he is concerned.”

  “It’s just all still raw at the moment that’s all. You’re both still hurting.”

  Harpur was raging inside and Bridget wasn’t helping one little bit, she was adding fuel to the fire. “Oh forget it, what’s the point anyway.” Harpur quickly checked her wristwatch. “Tony should be here anytime now. I’ll just get him in the car and tell him my mam’s not well. I’m not lying anyway, she’s in bad pain. She tries to hide it but did you see the way she was sat; I can see she’s suffering.”

  “Has she been to the doctors?”

  “Yes but she only tells half the bleeding story anyway. She doesn’t want to worry anyone.” There was a silence in the car and Harpur was surveying the area. Bridget hated that they’d had words and wanted to get things back to normal. “Let’s go and see Neil down the boozer after you’ve seen Tony. We can have a couple of drinks and chill out.”

  Harpur pulled a sour expression. “No, I’ll give that a miss. I see enough of his moaning face at home, he’s the last person I want to see right now, he’s in the bad books.”

  Bridget pulled the mirror down again and started to examine her complexion, dragging at her skin. “I’m not getting any younger am I. I swear to you I’m getting more wrinkles every day that passes. I need some TLC. Why don’t we get a bit of Botox, just a freshen up, not like some of the women you see who have that frozen look?”

  Harpur was cooling down now and she started to smile as she looked over at her stressed friend. “I feel the same love, I need more than Botox. I need a facelift, a nip and tuck, a boob job, the list is endless.”

  “So, let’s do it then. There is a place in Whitefield where I’ve
seen it advertised. The girl is mint and it doesn’t cost a bomb.”

  Harpur digested what she just said and sat thinking for a few seconds. Yes, why not, it was about time she did something for herself. “Ok, book us in. And see if she does anything for this fat around my stomach too. I think I’ve got middle-age spread.” The girls sat laughing and their little dispute was over now.

  *

  They had been sat in the car for over an hour now and there was no sign of Tony Wallis. Harpur checked her watch again and let out a laboured breath. “I’ll skin that rat alive! Who does he think he is letting me down like this? I’ll tell you something for nothing, he must know that I know he knows something. Otherwise why is the dirty ferret dodging me. I’ll make it my business now to find him. He’s not going to be far is he. I’ll just park up on Tavistock Square and wait for him. That’s where they all score from isn’t it?”

  “Are you sure you’re not getting in too deep Harpur? The world Tony lives in is dangerous. Come on, you’ve heard the stories. More to the point, you’ve seen Tony’s scars.” Harpur had no fear, all she wanted was the truth and if she got injured finding it, so be it, she was ready to risk it all. “Come on, I’ll come back to your house for a bit. We can pick a bottle of wine up on the way home. I can’t be getting steaming though I’ve got a visit with Sam tomorrow and I don’t want to be reeking of booze.” Bridget snarled and looked out of the window. The last thing she wanted to do was to sit in her house again. She wanted to socialise, meet people, take a break from her normal everyday life. The car pulled out from the street and the radio was on low. Bridget was in a mood and it was obvious she wasn’t happy. Harpur shot a look over at her and gasped her breath. “Okay then mard arse, we’ll go to the pub. But don’t expect me to be a barrel of laughs. Especially, if that arsehole of a husband is in.” There it was, Bridget was smiling again. She was easily pleased.