Bad Sister(4)

Connie’s input was ten sessions, with an option of monthly catch-ups after – so, soon enough, one of Steph’s three supports was going to go. If she felt Miles wasn’t being as supportive as she’d been led to believe, then she’d feel alone – just her and Dylan. Connie had to try and encourage her to make friends in Totnes, help her to ‘become’ Stephanie Cousins. Put her old name and identity in a separate compartment. Not that anyone could forget who they were; where they came from. And nor should they – but if she was to succeed in integrating Steph here, Connie would have to help her build a new life.

‘So, what is the current situation with Miles?’

‘I think he’s fed up wi’ seeing me. Got better things to do wi’ his time. He told me he can’t babysit me and Dylan all the time, said I gotta be the one to make positive changes and embrace this new life.’ She whispered the next bit: ‘That fucker – I put my life at risk to help ’em out. I went to that court and helped put a lowlife drug dealer away. He won’t rest until he’s made me pay for that. He’d have killed me then an’ there, I could see that in his eyes. They still could, if they find out where we are … Miles is meant to protect me, ain’t he? Not abandon me when it suits him. When I’ve outlived my usefulness.’

‘Is that what you think he’s done? Abandoned you?’

‘What would you call it?’

Connie leant her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin in her cupped hand, contemplating the question. ‘Well, abandonment is a strong word. I wonder if what he’s actually trying to do is reduce his support in an effort to encourage you to go out of your comfort zone—’

‘Er … I think you’ll find coming to this poxy town was already out my comfort zone. Dropping my boyfriend in it, testifying against one of the most powerful gangs in Manchester – that was out my comfort zone. But it’s not just that. What I want now is …’ Steph turned away. Connie saw dots of blood appear on her bottom lip, her teeth clamping down hard and grinding the thin skin.

‘Yes, go on. What is it that you want now?’

Steph wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, and then looked directly at Connie, the light from the window highlighting the unusual amber shade of her eyes. ‘I want someone to protect me. Make me safe. Stop him getting to me.’

‘Okay, that’s part of the reason you’ve been relocated – to prevent your boyfriend, or any of the gang members, from harming you. Miles has ensured—’

‘No. Not them. And Miles has ensured nothin’, apart from his stupid conviction. He might think he’s protected me by setting me and Dylan up here. But if he leaves me to it now, leaves me to fend for myself, then he ain’t gonna stop him from getting me.’ Steph’s face darkened, her expression fearful, frozen in time. Another time? Some other place?

‘Steph. If you aren’t talking about your ex-boyfriend, or the gang members, then who?’ Connie leaned forwards. ‘Steph.’ She placed her hand on Steph’s knee. Nothing. Steph remained stuck, transported, as if she was in a trance. ‘Stephanie.’ Connie spoke more firmly.

Steph’s eyes returned to Connie’s. ‘Sorry. I was gone then.’

‘Where? Where were you, Steph?’

‘Back.’ She shivered, drawing her unzipped hoody tighter across her chest. Her voice lowered, her tone hard. ‘Wi’ him.’

‘Who? Who are you with?’

‘Brett.’ She spoke the name as if it hurt her to say it.

The silence following the mention of this name stretched. Connie waited for her to elaborate. But she seemed to have gone into a daze again, her eyes penetrating the walls and beyond. Without warning, Steph bolted up and out of the chair, striding towards Dylan. She scooped him up. He thrashed briefly in her arms, trying to reach down for the paper scattered on the floor before she shouted at him to be still. Then she headed for the door.

‘Steph, we still have half an hour of the session. It might be good to carry on, don’t leave now,’ Connie shouted after her as she got up and followed Steph out.

She watched as Steph descended the stairs, Dylan bobbing up and down with each step. As she reached the bottom she turned. Her eyes were wet with tears.

‘He will come for me. He’ll finish what he started. I know it.’

‘How do you know it, Steph?’

‘Forget it, Connie.’ Her voice was flat. ‘You can’t help me.’

Connie was still on the top step as the front door of the building banged hard in its frame. She ran down, and outside. Steph was already disappearing into the crowd in the market square opposite. What was that all about? She’d assumed Steph’s fear of being found was related to the gang that her ex-boyfriend had been a part of. But now she’d thrown something new into the pot. She’d have to write it down while it was fresh in her mind. There was no mention of a Brett in Steph’s case file, the one Miles had given her, she was sure of it. Connie had read the file thoroughly; it hadn’t taken long. It detailed her ex-boyfriend and the known gang members, and family-wise it said that her mother was in a nursing home, her father’s whereabouts were unknown and she had no siblings.

As Connie returned to the consulting room to note down her questions, the security buzzer for the front door sounded. She exhaled and stretched across her desk, pressing the button to release the lock without asking who it was. It’d be Steph, hopefully, coming back to finish her session. But the noise on the stairs suggested more than one adult. Connie marched across the room. She let out an involuntary yelp as she flung the door open to find two people standing on the other side.