Bad Sister(35)

Connie let out a long breath. With a shaky hand, she grabbed the receiver and began dialling DI Wade.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR


Then


No matter how much air freshener she sprayed, or Shake n’ Vac she scattered, the stench of weed, dirt and sweat seeped back through – the concoction of smells made her retch. For the five months she’d lived there, Jenna had never had time with Vince alone – his gang of mates practically lived there too.

She’d complained. Asked if they might have time without them, but Vince told her they were his family; he couldn’t tell them to sling their hooks, because he owed them. Owed them what exactly, she didn’t know, and he didn’t offer any explanation. Judging by the drugs that changed hands, though, and the money that suddenly appeared at odd times, it wasn’t hard to guess. What could she do? She’d made her bed – as her mum had often told her in the past, now she had to lie in the shitpit. And boy, had she made her bed.

If her mother could see her now. Would she even care? What kind of mother abandoned her only daughter? Things had never been amazing, she wouldn’t have ever given her a ‘Mother-of-the-Year’ award, but after Brett’s arrival they’d progressively worsened. Her mother had become snappy, quick to anger. She’d made it obvious she disliked Brett and the arguments she and Brett’s dad had were almost always about him. Jenna was pushed out of the picture. She’d tried visiting her mum at the nursing home a few times after the fire, but as she’d been met with a wall of silence, a glazed look of indifference each time, she’d stopped. Couldn’t bear to see the empty shell. How had her mother been so lucky? The sudden onset dementia meant she had no idea what it was like to live with the fallout. How convenient.

Her mum, like the rest of her family, was dead to her now.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE


Connie


Connie gave a yelp of surprise and dropped the phone as the door swung open and banged against the wall.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.’ Steph burst through, dragging little Dylan behind her.

Connie’s chest rose and fell rapidly. ‘No problem,’ she managed. The call to Wade would have to wait.

‘I’m late because I had an argument wi’ the school ’cos I told ’em I’m not leaving Dylan there again today. He needs to stay wi’ me.’

Connie opened her drawer and retrieved the colouring pencils and paper she’d given Dylan before.

‘Hey, Dylan. How would you like to draw me a picture this morning?’ Connie crouched down, smiling at him. He lowered his head and scuttled behind Steph, still clutching her hand.

‘Go on.’ Steph pulled him back around her and gave him a nudge towards Connie. ‘Take ’em. You can do a nice happy picture. I’ll put it on the fridge when we get home.’

Dylan edged forwards, his first two fingers of one hand jammed in his mouth. He chewed on them. Poor kid seemed really nervy. He hadn’t been like that last time he’d been in her office. Connie smiled and placed the pencils and paper on the floor beneath the window. He’d go to them in his own time.

‘Sit down, Steph.’ Connie took her notebook and pen, then moved her chair to be beside Steph. A sickly-sweet aroma reached Connie’s nostrils; she repositioned the chair slightly further away. She didn’t want to appear rude, but the smell was overpowering. Was it cannabis? Surely not. ‘Are you doing okay, Steph?’

‘Been better.’ Her eye sockets appeared sunken; dark puffy skin bulged underneath. ‘Not slept the past few nights.’

‘Have you been taking anything?’ Connie thought she might as well be direct.

‘What, like drugs you mean?’ Her voice cracked.

‘Yes, like drugs. Only I’ve got to say, I know you said you’ve not been sleeping, but your appearance is, well—’

‘I took a bit of weed. That’s it – to try and relax me. It wasn’t much, nothing really.’ Steph broke eye contact and looked over at Dylan, who was finally busy with his colouring.

Connie knew that cannabis had been an issue for Steph in the past, when she’d lived with her boyfriend. But to her knowledge, she hadn’t used it since being relocated. She wondered where Steph had acquired it. It was a question for another time, though; her priority for today’s session was finding out about any perceived or real danger Steph might be in. With the focus on her brother, Brett.

‘Perhaps we’ll talk about that a bit later, see if together we can come up with some more appropriate ways of dealing with stress and learning some relaxation techniques?’

‘Yeah, whatever.’

‘I’m going to write notes as we chat today, Steph. I feel we need to get some things straight and I want us to come up with a plan by the end of this session. Does that sound reasonable to you?’

‘Fine. If you think that’s gonna help, knock yourself out.’

‘Don’t you think it’ll be helpful?’

‘Depends.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess. If the plans include moving me again, then that might work.’

Connie sat back in her chair. Steph must feel the threat to her was great if she was even thinking about that.

‘I would imagine that would be a last resort for Miles and his team. They’d want to do what they can to ensure your safety here, first.’