On this Sunday morning, she rubbed steam from the bathroom mirror and checked her reflection. The skin under her eyes looked bruised, her cheeks too hollowed. She made up her face and applied a lavish amount of blusher. Dark red lipstick, a defiant shade, and she was ready for the afternoon.
Her childhood home was unrecognisable since Rebecca, who had studied interior design, had eradicated all traces of their father from it. Raleigh Way had also changed. What was once an impoverished area had become gentrified as elderly residents died and the cottages were renovated by young couples seeking homes close to the city. The canal had been cleaned and was now inhabited by swans, who swam past Amanda with stately indifference as she parked her car and walked towards her mother’s house.
Rebecca and her husband had already arrived. Two months pregnant, Rebecca was afflicted with morning sickness, a misnomer, she claimed, as it also extended into the afternoon, evening and night.
‘I saw you on the telly.’ She lay on the sofa, her bare feet being massaged by Danny.
‘You were great,’ he said as he vigorously worked each toe in a circular movement.
‘You made quite an impact.’ Rebecca turned a wan face towards her sister. ‘But the powers that be can’t have been happy about evacuating the building. LR1 was off the air for ages.’
‘Don’t exaggerate,’ said Amanda. ‘And they received massive coverage from the media as a result. Lar Richardson said he could never have managed that amount of free advertising, even in his dreams.’
‘Who’s he?’ asked Danny.
‘The power that be,’ replied Amanda. His business card was in her wallet, a select card he gave to very few. She had memorised his private number, stroking her finger across the embossed LR1 logo.
She helped Imelda carry the dishes from the kitchen to the dining-room. Roast lamb was on the menu today. Rebecca bolted to the bathroom when the smell wafted towards her and emerged, red-rimmed eyes, ashen cheeks. It was going to be a long pregnancy.
‘How come you know so much about the drug gangs?’ Rebecca toyed with a scoop of mashed potato and waved the gravy bowl away.
‘It’s my job to know about them,’ Amanda replied.
‘When will the articles you’re writing about them be published?’ Danny asked.
‘Next week.’
‘All this talk about gangs scares me,’ said Imelda. ‘What’s this city coming to? That’s what I want to know.’
‘Scumbags,’ agreed Danny. ‘Let them take each other out and be done with it.’
‘Is that all you’re going to eat?’ Imelda looked pointedly at Rebecca’s plate. ‘That wouldn’t fill a canary’s belly. You have to eat for two, you know?’
‘It’s plenty, Mum.’ Rebecca sighed. ‘Stop fussing.’
‘This is delicious, Imelda.’ Danny piled his plate high and coyly patted his wife’s non-existent bump. ‘I’ll eat for the three of us.’
‘I can’t keep anything down but you’ve no excuse for not eating,’ said Rebecca. ‘You’re too thin, Amanda.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my weight.’
‘Of course not, dear.’ Imelda patted her arm. ‘But you do look tired. Are you sure you’re okay? That terrible bomb—’
‘Mum, it was a hoax.’ She was tired of discussing it with her mother, who phoned every few hours to check if she was okay.
‘But why would someone do that to you?’
‘There’s crazies everywhere. I don’t want to talk about it any more. When’s your next hospital appointment, Rebecca?’ Steering the conversation to scans and prenatal yoga, Amanda wondered how soon she could escape.
The swans were resting in the rushes when she left the cottage. She hurried towards her car, which she had left around the corner on Raleigh Lane. A Mercedes was parked in front of it, a silver jeep behind, both empty. She would have difficulty easing out of that space but it could be done. She got into her car – and knew instantly that something was wrong. The warning on her skin. The same itching uneasiness she used to experience before her father came home in one of his moods. Portents of trouble to come… and when the back door was whipped open she was terrified but not surprised. Too dazed to move when a hand came from behind to cover her mouth, she heard his voice, so familiar by now, but no longer muffled. ‘You’ve kept me waiting a long time, Amanda.’
She swivelled her eyes towards the rear view mirror. All she could see was his hulking figure leaning forward from the back seat. His aftershave, expensive and overpowering, was unable to mask the rank sweat oozing from his pores. His nasal twang was more pronounced and he spoke with utter conviction when he told her he would return to kill her if she didn’t shred every word she had written about the Shroffs.
‘What you’ve experienced so far is just a taster,’ he warned. ‘Can you imagine what we’ll do when we come after you for real?’
She tried to nod but his hand had immobilised her. Only her heart moved, frantic kicks against her chest as she realised who was behind her. Billy Shroff, the eldest brother, his features hidden behind a balaclava.
‘I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth,’ he said. ‘Don’t even think of screaming or I’ll be very cross with you. Do we understand each other?’
She nodded.
‘What are you going to do, Amanda?’ he asked.
‘I’m going to destroy my features.’
‘Say it again, only louder this time.’
‘I’m going to destroy my features.’
‘Again, Amanda. Again and again and again.’
Her voice shook but she continued repeating the same assurances until he grew tired of the game.
‘You know who I am, don’t you?’ he said.
‘No. No…’
‘No lies, Amanda. Of course you know. Can you remember what you wrote about my daughter’s wedding dress?’
‘I don’t remember—’
‘Try.’
‘Honestly, I don’t.’
‘You described it as a meringue whipped from egg whites and cocaine.’
‘I’m sorry…’ She was unable to recall those words but they were exactly what she would have written. Careless words, instantly forgotten by her but etched into Billy Shroff’s memory.
‘You’re a cruel bitch when you have a pen in your hand,’ he said. ‘And out of your hand too. Just remember this. The Shroffs are a close family. Insult one and you insult us all. New locks won’t keep us out when we come for you the next time.’
The interior light flashed on when he opened the back door. He walked past the Mercedes and turned the corner into Raleigh Way.