The Promise Read online

  Today’s comedown only clarified that; it was brutal. Every inch of her ached; the pain excruciating.

  She’d woken up shivering this morning, covered in a veil of sweat.

  It didn’t help that she was completely skint either.

  She knew she needed something to take the edge off or she’d never last the day, and for now that something was going to have to be a bottle of Lambrusco. Hopefully, she could stretch to a packet of fags too, because, for now, that was all she could afford.

  Turning the corner, Josie scanned the boxes of breakfast cereal, looking for Weetabix, knowing full well that Marnie would refuse to eat anything else.

  ‘Mummy, I’m going to wee myself,’ Marnie squawked, cupping her hand over the crotch of her leggings.

  ‘Five more minutes, Marn. Just hang on,’ Josie promised.

  ‘But I can’t hold it!’ Marnie cried, her face going bright red.

  ‘Well, you’re going to have to.’ Holding Marnie roughly by the wrist, Josie rolled her eyes as she made her way over to the young lad behind the till.

  ‘You haven’t got a toilet this one can use, have you?’ Josie asked, distracted, as she looked over the young boy’s shoulder and tried to work out which cigarettes she could afford.

  ‘We have, yes, but I’m afraid members of the public are not allowed to use it. We don’t allow anyone out the back, I’m afraid. Health and Safety,’ the boy said giving a look of sympathy to the child that was hopping from one foot to the other.

  ‘Can’t you just make an exception? She’s desperate,’ Josie said, irritated.

  ‘Sorry, it’s strictly off limits. There’s the public toilets at the other end of the parade?’ he suggested.

  Josie looked down at her daughter.

  ‘Do you hear that, Marnie. This boy’s got a toilet but he won’t let you use it.’ She spoke tartly. ‘What a jobsworth!’

  Not sure how to reply, the boy looked mortified as he began scanning the contents of Josie’s basket.

  ‘Oh, here we go!’ Josie said as a new customer walked in.

  Of all the people for her to bump into at this early hour of the morning, Javine Turner was the last person she wanted to see.

  Javine hadn’t lived around these parts very long, but already she’d managed to get most of the local girls’ backs up, Josie included. Strutting around the place like she was God’s gift to mankind as she looked down her nose at them.

  Everyone around here seemed to know the smug little cow’s fate better than she did. Swanning around, thinking she was Delray Anderton’s new girl. Hanging off the man as if she was surgically attached to him. Javine Turner had no idea what she’d signed up for. Delray was just using her like he did with all of them.

  Josie knew it herself, first-hand.

  Javine might be flavour of the month for now, but it wouldn’t last. Delray would soon have her out on the earn just like the rest of his girls.

  Watching as Javine tottered over towards the magazine stand, Josie felt suddenly self-conscious. Javine looked like a million dollars, dressed up in a tiny mini-dress, her ample boobs spilling out of her top.

  Josie looked a right state in comparison; she hadn’t even bothered to brush her hair since she’d rolled out of bed this morning. She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes too: a pair of tatty-looking skinny jeans and a baggy old T-shirt. Instantly irritated that she hadn’t made more of an effort, Josie pursed her lips as she watched Javine bend over to get a magazine from the rack.

  At least she had her dignity, unlike Javine, who was now displaying everything she had on offer to anyone who cared to look.

  The girl was the epitome of everything that Josie hated about young girls of today.

  Walking about half-naked, they were classless.

  Tacky.

  Turning back to the boy behind the counter, who was clearly enjoying copping an eyeful, Josie said, harshly: ‘What do you reckon then, eggs and bacon, or muesli?’

  He blushed, not understanding the question, clearly embarrassed that he’d been caught staring at one of the customers.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I thought you were trying to catch a glimpse of what that skank had for breakfast?’ Josie said sarcastically, enjoying the discomfort she was causing him. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it being much. The girl looks like an anorexic whippet.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Do I know you?’ Javine interrupted with a fake smile as she joined the queue behind Josie.

  ‘No, love, but I know all about you. You’re Delray’s new girl.’ Josie wrinkled her nose, pretending to look uninterested in Javine’s small talk. ‘I’ve heard all about you.’

  ‘Is that so? Well, whoever you think you are, there’s no chance of anyone ever mistaking you for being an anorexic whippet, is there? Though you look like you might have eaten a few.’ Javine shot the older woman a smug grin; then, scanning the contents of Josie’s basket she added: ‘Ooh, Lambrusco and Weetabix. Breakfast of champions!’

  ‘Why don’t you just fuck off!’ Josie muttered under her breath. She wasn’t in the mood for this shit today. The way that she was feeling, it wasn’t going to take much to start World War Three.

  Delray had surpassed himself this time with this one.

  Javine really did think that she was something else altogether. Strutting around Brixton as if she had two fannies or something.

  Josie was more than capable of wiping the floor with the likes of Javine Turner. The girl needed to watch her mouth.

  Ignoring the threat in Josie’s tone, Javine smirked.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Josie glared at her.

  ‘I’ve seen you around, haven’t I?’ Javine shot Josie a smug grin as she realised who this woman was. ‘Delray pointed you out to me.’

  Javine smirked, remembering the afternoon they’d driven past Josie. Delray had told her that Josie Parker was some old tart that he used to know. Javine remembered feeling shocked that someone like Delray would even contemplate being associated with a woman of Josie’s calibre. As Delray had said, though, everyone was capable of making mistakes, and now Javine had the pleasure of meeting Josie first hand, she couldn’t agree with the man more.

  ‘I bet he did.’ Turning back to the boy at the counter, Josie ignored the girl. The last thing she wanted to do was start discussing Delray. He wasn’t worth the oxygen.

  ‘Can I get you anything else?’ the boy behind the counter asked.

  Josie guessed he was sensing the building tension between his only two customers.

  ‘Can you stick a fiver on the electric key, and I’ll have a pack of Benson’s too. Just ten.’ She needed a fag now more than ever.

  ‘That will be £16.10, please.’

  Josie nodded. Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for her money.

  Nothing. Checking both pockets, she started to panic.

  It wasn’t there.

  She searched the floor around her, just in case it had fallen out.

  ‘Sorry, I had a twenty pound note, I must have dropped it somewhere,’ she said as she dug around desperately in the bottom of her handbag, totting up the loose change she found, well aware that the smug bitch behind her would be loving this.

  ‘Mummy, I can’t hold it in anymore.’ Marnie was still harping on at her. Jumping up and down on the spot.

  ‘Cross your legs,’ Josie said gritting her teeth. She wasn’t in the mood for all this shit today; she just wanted to get out of here, get home and have a large glass of wine and smoke herself stupid.

  Trying to steady her now shaking hand as she counted the pile of loose change in her palm under the scrutiny of the shopkeeper and Javine, Josie could see that she didn’t have enough.

  Mortified, she realised she was going to have to put something back.

  She wasn’t going to forfeit her wine.

  ‘Forget about the fags.’ Josie stared at the boy behind the counter.

  Keeping his expression neutral, the boy refunded the cigarettes.

  ‘Actually, you’
ll have to refund the electric too,’ Josie said, her face burning with humiliation as the boy behind the counter made a song and dance over the fact that he had to issue a refund on the electricity key.

  Another night without any electric was going to be a royal pain in the arse, but right now, Josie couldn’t bear to think about anything other than the intense yearning for something to take the edge off. It was consuming her entire mind and body. She’d just have to light some candles tonight, she justified to herself. The girls could have Weetabix for dinner again. That’s all the girls bloody wanted to eat half the time anyway.

  Sighing loudly, the boy behind the counter continued tapping in some numbers to his machine before pushing the bag containing the wine and cereal towards her.

  ‘That will be £6.10 then, please.’

  Looking down at her hand, eyeing four pound coins and a few silvers, the rest were all coppers.

  ‘Mummy.’ Marnie was crying now.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, Marnie, will you just wait,’ Josie said, totting up the money, irritated that she still didn’t have enough.

  ‘Mummy.’

  Trying to get her mother’s attention, Marnie grabbed at Josie’s hand, scattering the pile of coins.

  Josie was down on her hands and knees, grabbing at the money as it rolled across the shop floor.

  ‘Jesus! Delray said you were a mess!’ Javine’s voice boomed above her.

  Josie smarted. Got back up on her feet.

  ‘Oh, is that so? What else did your so-called boyfriend tell you?’ She could feel the shop assistant’s eyes on them as this jumped-up little trollop tried to get the better of her. But Josie wasn’t having it.

  ‘He’s told me loads, actually.’ Javine shrugged. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the child with Josie as her mother.

  ‘You want to watch yourself, love.’

  Josie shook her head, annoyed at the girl’s blatant cockiness.

  ‘Oh yeah, and why’s that then?’

  Javine grinned. ‘Delray won’t be happy if he hears that you were talking to me like this, that’s all.’

  Javine was loving every moment as she stared at Josie insolently, trying to gauge her reaction. Knowing full well that she was winding her up.

  ‘Don’t think yourself so important, love. I’m sure Delray wouldn’t give two shits about the way people around here speak to you. He’ll be doing it himself before too long when the novelty has worn off,’ Josie spat, hoping to wipe the conceited look clean off the girl’s face.

  This was the kind of girl that Delray was employing these days for his so-called ‘escort’ business: bimbos that thought they were above everyone else around here.

  Well, Josie had been on Delray’s payroll from the beginning when he’d had his girls walk the street to earn their money. He was nothing more than a pimp, and Javine was nothing more than his next earn. Only, it seemed that Delray had managed to convince this stupid bitch that their relationship was something more than that.

  Josie couldn’t believe girls still fell for that kind of shit, but then, Javine wasn’t much more than a kid, really. Young and dumb: just Delray’s type.

  ‘Oh, I think you’ll find that Delray would be very interested indeed about how people treat me,’ Javine sneered.

  ‘Oh, whatever, Javine. You’re ten a penny, love. Just another young bird he’s shagging for now. He’ll have you out flashing your clout for him soon; you just wait and see.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Josie. Me and Delray are serious.’ Javine’s eyes gleamed triumphantly, and Josie couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘’Course you are, love. What’s it been? Three weeks?’ she sneered knowingly. ‘What’s he done? Made space for your knickers in one of his drawers in that shitty flat of his? Though, judging by the state of what I just saw when you bent over, you won’t be needing much room – seeing as you don’t seem to own any.’

  ‘Oh, haven’t you heard? He’s just moved into one of those swanky apartments over at the Albert Embankment. You know, the posh ones overlooking the river.’ Watching the surprise on Josie’s face, Javine continued. ‘The place cost him a bomb. Twenty-four-hour concierge service. Security on the main door. The penthouse, of course. You know what he’s like. He insists on only the best. Well, at least these days he does.’ She knew she was treading a thin line discussing Delray’s business with the likes of her, especially as Delray had specifically told her not to discuss anything with anyone. He liked to keep his private life exactly that, but Javine just couldn’t help herself. Josie was talking down to her as if she was nothing, as if she was just some stupid little girl.

  Well, she was much more than that, and it was about time people around here realised it too.

  ‘I’ve moved in with him.’ Flashing the pile of interior design and home magazines that she’d just picked up off the news stand, Javine smirked.

  ‘Mummy! Mummy!’

  ‘What, Marnie?’ Josie shouted as she looked down to where Marnie stood, her daughter’s feet surrounded by a puddle of dark yellow piss. Her pink leggings soaked through.

  ‘For fuck sake, Marnie!’ Josie shut her eyes in despair.

  ‘Oh dear. Looks like someone’s had a little accident,’ Javine quipped as she stepped forward and tossed two twenty pound notes on the counter.

  Flashing the young shop assistant her most flirtatious smile, Javine was in her element. ‘Here! Take whatever she’s having out of that and let her keep the change. The old cow looks like she needs all the help she can get,’ she said as she tiptoed her pointy black stilettos around the puddle of urine and marched from the shop, victorious.

  Furious, Josie made a grab for the bag of shopping on the counter, shoving the bottle of wine that had been removed back inside.

  The look on the boy’s face behind the tills told her everything she needed to know.

  Javine Turner had just made Josie look like a prize prat.

  Desperate to restore at least some of her dignity, Josie held the boy’s gaze.

  ‘Here, seeing as you’re so shit-hot on your health and bloody safety, you can clean that piss up,’ she told him before grabbing Marnie tightly by her hand and marching out of the shop.

  The quicker she got home and poured herself a glass of wine the better.

  Chapter Four

  ‘You’re going to end up rubbing a hole in those,’ Mandy Johnson quipped as she watched Davey Lewis continuing to wipe the imaginary dust from bottles on the optics behind him. ‘You do know that you’ve already cleaned that same bottle three times while I’ve been stood here like a lemon waiting for a drink?’ Mandy knew full well that Davey had seen her standing there; she’d clocked him looking at her in the mirror.

  He was avoiding her, secretly hoping that Rita the barmaid would serve her instead; only, his plan hadn’t worked. Rita had her head buried in a magazine at the opposite end of the bar, so Davey had been left with no choice but to finally acknowledge her.

  Pretending not to notice the frosty reception she was getting, Mandy persevered with the small talk. ‘You expecting a visit from bleeding royalty or something?’ Smiling as she leant up against the bar, Mandy stuck her chest out a little bit more, making sure that Davey copped an eyeful of her more than ample cleavage as he poured out the drinks.

  But Davey didn’t even glance in her direction.

  Now Mandy knew something wasn’t right. Normally the sight of her well-endowed chest was more than enough to put a smile on the man’s face; at least, it had done the last couple of nights. Tonight though, it seemed like a whole other story. Davey Lewis had barely acknowledged her existence.

  ‘Oh sorry, Mandy, didn’t see you standing there. I just thought I’d give the place a once-over, you know.’ Davey shrugged, still not meeting her eyes.

  Davey, cleaning ‒ just for the sake of it? Who was the bloke kidding? The Old Bell pub was a typical South London boozer, slap bang in the heart of Brixton, complete with permanently sticky tabletops, beer sodden
carpets and a pool table that was missing half its balls. As the pub’s landlord, Davey had never seemed to bother about the state of the place. Until now.

  ‘Two Chardonnays, was it?’ he asked, already turning his back on her to get fresh glasses.

  Mandy persevered. ‘Yeah, cheers. Think me and Jos will just have one more before we call it a night,’ she said, wondering if perhaps she was just being a bit paranoid. Maybe Davey just had things on his mind. He had mentioned to her numerous times over the past few weeks that the pub was haemorrhaging money left, right and centre. Maybe the man just had a lot on his plate.

  ‘Saturday night ain’t what it used to be, eh? This place is dead now thanks to all those fancy wine bars opening in the high street,’ Mandy said, clocking the small handful of locals dotted about the pub – most of them looking as thoroughly miserable as this place felt. If it wasn’t for the fact that she and Josie had already been barred from most of the pubs here in Brixton, they’d be at one of the wine bars too, in all honestly. Still, Mandy wasn’t going to voice that to Davey.

  Unlike all the other landlords around here, Davey had always turned a blind eye to the women’s business dealing. They could speak to and meet up with anyone they wanted; as long as they weren’t doing their business on his premises, Davey didn’t mind one bit. Especially seeing as he didn’t exactly have a stream of punters coming through the door.

  Besides, it wasn’t that bad, really, if you were partial to the shoddy selection of prawn cocktail crisps and old-man bitters.

  Realising that Davey still wasn’t engaging in conversation with her, Mandy decided to take the bull by the horns.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Davey? Only, you really don’t seem yourself tonight, mate?’

  ‘Everything’s fine, Mandy,’ he said unconvincingly; his tone sharp, dismissive. He cursed as he placed the two glasses down on the bar in front of Mandy and one of them slipped from his grip. He caught it before it rolled onto the floor and smashed but soaked himself in the process.