A week had passed since it had happened. A week since she’d brutally murdered someone. The media had reported him as a forty-six-year-old man who’d been living in and out of hostels for the best part of twenty years. No family. No friends. A loner. That made Arabella feel worse than ever. Now there was a character, a real person behind the crime she had committed.
The police hadn’t shown up. The chat around the area had died down and the gossip had moved on to something else. She didn’t know how to feel about that. Relieved that she might just get away with it? Or ashamed and disgusted with herself? She hadn’t looked in the mirror since the morning after. Not properly. She couldn’t look herself in the eye. If it wasn’t for the salon, she was sure she’d have lost the plot by now. The place had kept her distracted as much as possible. She’d wanted to distance herself from Roxanne to keep her mind from what had happened, but hadn’t managed to do so. Eddie had spent more and more time at the office. The business had picked up a lot in the last few days and Eddie had said he wanted to be there to oversee everything.
Arabella flicked through the appointment book as she sat at the front of the salon. The girls were all busy with clients, the sound of hairdryers blasting hot air around and music playing from the radio reminding her of how she’d felt the day she was getting ready for her end of year high school dance. A time Arabella would much rather forget.
‘Come on Arabella, you know you want some,’ Shona had said, waving the bottle of vodka under her nose.
Arabella had tried to laugh it off, she remembered. ‘No thanks. That stuff is rank.’
‘Och, are you fear’t the teacher will suspend you or something? They’re probably all be on it too. Come on, you’ll be the only one not doing it. You want to feel left out?’
Arabella had shot Shona a look before grabbing the bottle from her hand. She didn’t want to feel left out. That was the worst feeling, not being part of things. She’d do anything to make herself fit in because it helped to distance her from the memories of feeling rejected and let down by her alcoholic mother, the person who ultimately was the cause of Arabella struggling to create relationships with others throughout her entire life.
Unscrewing the lid, Arabella took a large mouthful and suppressed the urge to gag as the rancid liquid burned its way down to her stomach.
‘Nice one,’ Shona said, pulling out a small bag of coke from her bra. ‘Now for a line.’
‘No thanks,’ Arabella had said. ‘I’ll stick with the voddy.’
Shona and some of the other girls started to laugh. ‘Aw, little care home girl doesn’t want to do drugs. Who you trying to kid, think you’re a Goody Two-Shoes or something?’ one of the girls said.
Arabella felt so belittled it made her angry but she didn’t show it.
‘Goody Two-Shoes kids don’t end up in care,’ Arabella said, reaching out her hand and taking the small bag of powder from Shona.
She smiled at Arabella then. ‘Honestly, you’re a laugh when you just join in, Arabella. You should just loosen yourself up all the time.’
That was how these friendships had formed, if she could even call them that. Arabella had friends so long as she went with the crowd. If she did the same as them, they didn’t take the piss out of her. They’d been standing in the school toilets when one of the female teachers came in to check on the girls. Shona pulled more bags of coke out of her bra and shoved them into Arabella’s bag.
‘What are you doing?’ Arabella hissed, trying to give them back to her.
‘Unless you want a kicking, keep your mouth shut,’ Shona had said.
Luckily the teacher hadn’t searched any of them. Arabella knew at that point that she wasn’t friends with any of these girls. They were using her. She just wasn’t friendship material and people would only give her the time of day if she did what they told her to.
Fast-forward into her adult years and she’d realised that Shona was the same person now as she was back then. She’d used Arabella and Arabella had allowed her to. She’d made a right mess of her life. Before she’d gone to prison, she’d been working a few shifts for Eddie, answering phones and cleaning the offices. She’d got a job in a salon but lost it quickly when she’d failed to show up for a few shifts because she’d had a hangover after spending time with these people the night before; the ‘friends’ who’d ultimately been the cause of her prison sentence. Yes, she’d had Eddie at home, but he wasn’t a friend. She’d needed friends, a group she could fit in with. In truth, she knew she’d never fit in with anyone. Eddie had commented on how often she’d be out with them and not him, but Arabella hadn’t toned it down until it was too late. Now things were finally going in the right direction. Or at least they had been. Not so long ago, Arabella had thought she’d never get to live a life like this. Being in prison wasn’t exactly good for the CV and she had worried that she’d struggle to get a job. Not in a million years could she have imagined that Eddie would have bought her a salon. Not in a million years did she think she’d have murdered a complete stranger.
The phone rang, pulling her from her thoughts.
‘Hair Envy, Glasgow,’ Arabella answered. She was getting better at this by the day. And so she should; she did own the place after all.
‘Hey, it’s me,’ Eddie’s voice came from the other end of the line. ‘How’s things going?’
‘Oh hi,’ she said, surprised to hear from him. ‘Yeah, nothing much to report. I’m just manning the phones while the girls get on with their clients. I suppose I have to since Scarlett’s done a bunk.’
‘Scarlett isn’t at work?’ Eddie asked.
‘No. She hasn’t turned up. The girls say it’s not like her. I’ve tried to call her but her mobile is switched off.’
Eddie started to speak but Arabella didn’t hear what he was saying with the commotion going on at the front door of the salon. A woman had appeared. Barely a woman, a young girl in fact and she was pregnant. She couldn’t be older than sixteen, Arabella thought. She looked ill. Her face was pale and beads of sweat trickled down between her brows. She seemed out of breath. She wasn’t alone.
‘Arabella, can you help?’ Roxanne said, holding the young girl up. ‘I found her on the street like this. I think she’s in labour.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Arabella said a little too loudly. All of the stylists and clients turned to see what all the fuss was about. ‘Eddie, I have to go. I’ll call you back.’
Hanging up the phone, Arabella rushed around to the other side of the desk and stood in front of her friend and the young girl.
‘I’ll call an ambulance,’ Arabella said.
‘No, I’m not in labour. I just need a glass of water,’ she said, tears pouring down her cheeks. She looked like she was in pain, Arabella thought.
Roxanne looked on at Arabella, panic-stricken. ‘Can we go through to the kitchen, let her sit down for a bit?’
Without saying a word, Arabella led them through the salon to the kitchen. Allowing them to go ahead of her, she followed them inside and closed the door, creating a private space away from prying eyes. The young girl was helped down onto a chair by Roxanne while Arabella grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. Turning, she held it out to the girl who was now sobbing.
‘Right, calm down, hen,’ Roxanne said, her expression hardening. Arabella frowned at how harsh her friend sounded.
‘Are you okay?’ Arabella asked as the girl took the glass and held it tightly. ‘Do you want me to phone someone for you?’
The girl stopped sobbing as though someone had flicked a switch. Her actions were robotic. She looked up at Arabella, shook her head. Her expression was neutral, but Arabella saw the fear in her eyes.
‘Right, shirt off,’ Roxanne said to the girl. Arabella’s eyes widened in horror at the request.
‘What?’ Arabella said, but Roxanne ignored her, keeping her eyes on the girl. ‘Wait a minute, Roxanne. What the hell is going on here? Why does she need to take her shirt off?’
The girl got to her feet slowly and silently pulled the shirt over her head. As Arabella took in the scene, she was as confused as she was horrified. A moment ago, this girl had looked like she was in labour. She was crying, terrified. Roxanne was helping her. But now?
Roxanne spun the girl round and began to untie the straps at the back, allowing the fake pregnancy bump to fall to the floor. Bending down, she picked it up and studied it. ‘Good work, Stephanie. Good work indeed. Did you think this was real?’ Roxanne turned to Arabella.
Arabella’s eyes darted between her friend and the girl who’d just revealed that her pregnancy was fake. ‘Did I think she was really pregnant? Are you kidding, Roxanne? What the actual fuck is going on here?’
Roxanne didn’t respond as she opened up the inside of the suit and began pulling envelopes out. They were stuffed full, by the looks of them.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ Arabella asked, staring as Roxanne’s hands went to work pulling the envelopes out.
‘Arabella, just give me a second. I need to count this and get Steph here paid.’
Arabella scoffed, ‘Are you two having a fucking laugh here? This isn’t serious, is it?’
Stephanie stood in awkward silence in her jeans and bra, arms folded over her chest as she watched Roxanne check the envelopes she’d pulled out of the suit. Five, to be precise.
‘Good girl, Stephanie. Right,’ Roxanne opened one of them, took out a handful of notes, counted out one hundred pounds and shoved it into the girl’s bra.
‘Payday has come for you,’ Roxanne said, smiling at Stephanie. ‘Now, remember what we talked about?’
Stephanie nodded quickly as Roxanne shoved the pregnancy suit at her. Sliding it on, she turned so that Roxanne could strap her back in securely. ‘Yes, you said I’ve to wait for a call for the next job.’
‘Good girl. Keep that phone I gave you on you at all times. Make sure it’s on loud and vibrate so you don’t miss it. You answer, take instructions and do as you’re told. Got it?’
‘Am I fucking invisible here, Rox?’ Arabella said, the words hissing through her teeth.
Roxanne tightened the suit, tugging hard on the straps before securing them. Stephanie expelled air and almost lost her balance, gripping the counter to support her. Roxanne said nothing.
‘Right,’ Arabella said, standing with her back to the door and folding her arms across her chest. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you explain what the fuck you’ve just dragged me into.’
Roxanne stopped pulling on the ties for the suit and Stephanie gave a sidelong glance before turning her back and putting her shirt back on.
Roxanne frowned, as though she had no idea what Arabella was talking about.
‘Is this a problem?’
‘Are you joking? You pull this girl in off the street and pull fuck knows how much money out of her fake pregnant belly and you think I’ll not bat an eyelid?’
‘It’s only money, Arabella. It’s not like I’m forcing a needle into her arm.’ Roxanne’s tone was how Arabella had always known it. Friendly. Straight to the point.
Arabella felt her eyes narrow, her brow crease. Was she overreacting a little?
‘Well, what’s the money for? Where did it come from?’ Arabella pushed.
Roxanne turned to Stephanie and gestured for her to leave. ‘Mind now, that phone should be practically glued to your hand for the foreseeable.’
‘No bother, Roxanne.’
At that, Stephanie gave Arabella a tight-lipped smile and headed out of the kitchen via the back door. Roxanne saw her out and Arabella waited for the door to be closed and for an explanation.
‘Look. I’m doing this job. It’s not exactly legit, but it’s a job. Something to bring the cash in, you know? We don’t all have a boyfriend to buy us a salon when we get out.’
Arabella felt instant embarrassment, like a spoiled brat. ‘Well,’ she continued to press. ‘Can I ask what sort of job?’
‘Some of the same of what I was doing before going to the jail. Shoplifting, wee bit of dealing. That sort of thing.’
‘So that girl,’ Arabella eyed the door. ‘What’s her role in all this?’
Roxanne smiled thinly. ‘She works for me. And for Jake. This is our thing. Together. Like this place is yours and Eddie’s.’
Arabella sighed, shook her head. ‘Ed might own this place but he has nothing to do with the day-to-day running. To be fair, that’s not even down to me. Scarlett does all that. Or at least she did until she done the off.’
Roxanne raised a brow but didn’t comment about Scarlett. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you by bringing her in here. Stephanie, she’s a good girl. She gets the job done, some of her mates help her out. I send out the list of goods, she gets hold of them, sells them and brings the cash back to me. Jake has a team working for him too. I just, well I didn’t know where else to bring her. When I met up with her, she said the polis had been watching her. Or at least she thought they were. I panicked, made her pretend she was going into labour and before I knew it, I saw this place and thought you’d be alright with it. I should have checked with you first that it was okay.’
Arabella noticed the softness in her friend’s eyes then. A silent apology to go with the explanation.
‘It was a one-off, yeah?’
‘Absolutely. I’ll make sure that my shoplifting business doesn’t cross over the threshold of Hair Envy again.’
Nodding, Arabella smiled. ‘Good. Look, I don’t mean this to sound harsh, but things have been pretty shitty for me the last week what with… well, you know what with. I just don’t think I’m cut out for all this illegal shit. Ed bought me this place so I could start over. I don’t want him thinking I’m falling back into something that’s going to send me back to prison. I am so grateful for what you did, I really am, Rox. You’ll never know how much. But I can’t get involved in your shoplifting game.’
Roxanne opened up her arms and stepped forward. ‘Then you don’t have to. I promise. And I know how grateful you are for what I did for you, Arabella. You’re not a bad person, you don’t deserve to go to prison for what happened. The guy was a sleaze, you dealt with him the best way you knew how. You did it to keep us safe. I won’t hold that against you, if anything I thank you for it.’
Arabella accepted Roxanne’s open arms and hugged her best friend. Not just her best friend but her only friend. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.