Sweet Little Lies (Cat Kinsella #1)(104)

Parnell nods reverently.

Her jaw tightens. ‘Bastards. I bet that was a warning to everyone to keep their mouths shut. Any girl who passed through the flat would have got the message loud and clear – they all loved the gardens, see, it was the only place they ever got out to. We were all pretty much prisoners, we just didn’t see it that way.’ She smiles and it’s a genuine smile, no side-helping of sarcasm. ‘Me and Maryanne did sneak out sometimes though, at night, left the girls on their own. Turnmills was a favourite, it was less than a mile, you see. We went as far as Heaven once though, over by Charing Cross. It was risky but it was worth it, you know. Just to be able to do normal things for a few hours – dancing, flirting .?.?. not sitting in night after night, watching repeats of Friends with a load of hormonal women.’

‘What about men?’ asks Parnell, leaning back again. ‘Any male visitors?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

I put my hand to the back of my neck – not clammy, red-hot.

Don’t be defensive, I will her. Don’t flat-out deny it.

But Saskia’s a smart cookie, she knows they’re asking for a reason. ‘There were a few around occasionally, just Mackie’s associates. The odd party, or drop-off.’

‘Drop-off?’ asks Renée. ‘Stuff for the girls?’

A hollow laugh. ‘Not exactly. They’d store drugs in the flat sometimes. Money. Weapons occasionally, although Maryanne kicked off about that. I can’t remember names, though. I can barely remember faces.’

‘Well, this was hanging on your wall.’ Parnell slides the photo over, points at the men. ‘Jog any memories?’

She stares for a long time, poker-faced. ‘Nope,’ she says, pushing it back. ‘It was a long time ago. I forgot that photo was even there, to be honest. I hardly ever go in that room. God, I was gorgeous back then,’ she says, changing the subject, looking to Renée. ‘You don’t realise it at the time, do you? You don’t appreciate it.’

Renée stays stony-faced while Parnell taps his palms on the table – a chirpy move, almost like a drum roll. ‘So all good things come to an end, as they say. How long were you and Maryanne involved?’

She answers instantly, like it’s just yesterday. ‘Maryanne took off for Brighton early 2001 – she was always going on about wanting to live by the sea. I kept going for a bit but it was too much for just one person. I started making mistakes at the clinic, being too obvious, I suppose. Anyway, I got fired when they caught me with clients details on my phone.’

‘The Mackies must have been angry at Maryanne for leaving?’

‘Yeah, but not as much as I thought. I think Mackie was wanting to wind things down anyway. Bigger fish to fry, easier scams to run. And I reckon Gina’d lost interest – don’t know if she ever had any interest, to be fair – she was just following Daddy’s orders. She was like a robot.’

‘So is that what happened with Maryanne?’ There’s a taunt in Renée’s tone, I wonder how Saskia will take it. ‘She lost interest in earning lots of money for eating picnics and watching Sky TV?’

Saskia blinks slowly, doesn’t react. ‘She lost faith in what she was doing.’

‘Faith?’ echoes Parnell.

‘Yes, faith. Look, I’ll hold my hands up, I did it for the money, pure and simple, but Maryanne – now I’m not saying she wasn’t a greedy cow, ’cos she was – but she did genuinely think we were doing a good thing. Giving someone a good option. I used to take the piss out of her, laugh at her fairy godmother act, but to be fair she’d been through it, not me. She knew what a lifeline it had been.’

‘Sure, sure,’ says Parnell, nodding quickly. ‘So what changed? Why’d she lose faith?’

She stares at the table, bites her lip. Blood pools at the centre again but she doesn’t seem to notice. ‘Something happened, late 2000, coming up to Christmas. There was this girl, her name was Kristen. Nice girl, but she kept chopping and changing her mind throughout the pregnancy, she was high-maintenance, a pain in the arse, really. Maryanne was always having to talk her around – I left that side to Maryanne – like I say, she’d been through it, not me. Anyway, after Kristen gave birth, that was it, she was keeping her baby and that was the end of it. It was the first time it’d actually happened. Maryanne was shitting herself, expecting Gina to go mental .?.?.’

‘And she didn’t?’ asks Parnell

Her face sours. ‘No, because she just walked into the flat and took it anyway. Literally just lifted the baby out of the Moses basket with Kristen sitting there screaming.’

Every hard edge I’ve tried to cling on to begins to dissipate, liquefy.

Renée adjusts her ponytail – beats punching the table, I guess. ‘Surely this Kristen went to the police then?’

Saskia looks from the table to the floor and her voice becomes a mumble. ‘No way, she wouldn’t dare. We had their contact details from the clinic, remember? She told Kristen in no uncertain terms, “We know where you live, where your family lives.” I mean, that was always sort of implied once a girl had given birth and she was getting ready to leave the flat, just to keep her in line, you know, but it was the first time I’d heard it said so blatantly.’