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she didn’t voice her opinion. As Mickey said, they’d cross the bridges as they came to them.
    They had no other choice.
    21

Chapter Two
    Marie answered the loud knocking at her door, frowning to see a woman standing there. She had dark backcombed hair and heavy black eyeliner. She smiled at Marie, her false teeth too big for her mouth.
    ‘Marie Carter?’
    It was a statement more than a question.
    Marie nodded.
    The woman held out her hand in a friendly manner.
    ‘Sally Potter. I’m next door.’
    Marie shook hands, saying nothing.
    ‘You can call me Sal,’ her visitor said encouragingly.
    ‘Thank you.’
    The woman grinned.
    ‘I done a lump, love, murder like yourself. Been out nearly eight months. ‘Course, I topped me old man, and give his bird something to think about and all. I thought I would introduce meself, that’s all. I ain’t trying to pry or nothing. If you fancy a bit of company give me a knock, OK? It takes a few weeks to acclimatise, like.’
    She smiled again and walked off.
    Marie shut the door, her heart hammering in her chest. She sat on the bed and listened as the radio blared through the thin wall. Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily. She wanted out of this place and she wanted out soon. Everyone wanted to pry into her business, everyone wanted something from her and she had nothing to give.
    She felt dry, empty.
    Even friendship frightened her these days and yet once, friends had been everything to her. She closed her eyes and saw once more the two bloodied bodies, saw the carnage her drink-and drug-fuelled rage had caused, and felt the familiar bile rise into her throat.
    23
     
    Friends were not an option any more. She was much safer alone. Everyone was safer if Marie could just stay alone.
    Carole Halter sat in the club alone. It was early, most of the girls wouldn’t be in till later, but she liked to have a few drinks under her belt before she started her night’s work.
    The bouncer, a young blond body builder called Declan, looked her over and obviously found her wanting.
    ‘Had your look?’
    She challenged him from habit, neither of them really caring about the other’s opinion. He put himself above her and she saw herself as beneath him. It worked for them both.
    ‘Have you seen anything of Tiffany?’ Carole asked.
    He shook his head. Didn’t even bother to answer properly.
    ‘Why the fuck would I want to see her anyway?’
    ‘I was only asking!’
    Carole’s voice was loud and aggressive now.
    She carried on sipping her drink, eyes prowling the club in case a punter had crept past her. A small good-looking blonde girl came in. Though heavy-breasted she was otherwise practically anorexic in build. Long bleached hair hung like a curtain across her face. She pushed it away with one slim hand, violet-painted nails looking dangerously long.
    Carole smiled at her.
    ‘All right, Tiff?’
    The girl stared at her for a few seconds.
    ‘It’s OK, Carole, I know. I was told earlier.’
    She carried on walking to the cloakroom that also doubled as the strippers’ changing room and Carole followed her.
    ‘What are you going to do?’
    The girl pushed the door open with surprising force and shrugged.
    ‘Do? What am I supposed to do?’
    ‘Well, she is your mother.’
    Tiffany grinned into the dirty mirror above the sinks.
    ‘So I hear.’
    Carole was alarmed at the girl’s attitude and it showed.
    ‘I don’t think you quite realise the strength of her, Tiff. She is strong, not just physically - and we all know the truth of that. But mentally she’s like man mountain Dean. If that fucker wants to see you bad enough, she will.’
    24
     
    Tiffany shrugged.
    ‘Yeah, so? Shall I practise my curtsey now then?’
    Carole shook her head sadly.
    ‘Listen to me. She is still your mother, love. No matter what. She loved you in her own way …’
    Tiffany waved her hands angrily.
    ‘Oh, yeah? Left us for hours on end by ourselves, drugged out of her fucking brain! Well, Carole,