Chapter Text
Six months. For Ella Cole, it had been six months of living hand to mouth, trying to pay for flats, bedsits or house shares with mould on the walls and mushrooms growing out of the carpet. Drug dealers on the stairs, unlicensed dogs barking night after night, bits of kids more than half her age with flick knives and vapes. She didn't bother them, and they didn't bother her. She knew this world and understood the ecosystem and flashpoints. She leaned against the front door and wiggled the key, the only way to get it to lock properly. It was still early, quiet in the stairwell bar one other person who kept his hood up and his hands deep in his pockets.
“Lend us a tenner, El?”
“I'm skint Dozzer, sorry.”
“Just till tomorrow?”
“No, Doz. Get down the clinic when they open, they can get you something to get you through the day.”
“Ain't allowed in there this week. ‘Ad a row with the security gaffer.” He sniffed.
“They'll kick you out for good if you keep that shit up. I've got to go, ask Mike.”
“Thanks anyway, bab.” She didn't see anyone else on the way out. The girls would still be sleeping, false lashes caked in mascara and lipstick stains bleeding into the soft lines around their mouths. She had to get out of this block, she'd only accepted it out of desperation. The black mould on the walls of the last place stank and it was wreaking havoc with her lungs. Putting her foot on a mushroom growing out of the carpet was the last straw, but after two months she'd also had enough of bumping into addicts and sex workers in the corridors, and she was sick of the girls pimp trying to enlist her. The fellas would love ya, you could make a killin’ babe he told her. Despite the early hour, the smell of weed in the building entrance was overwhelming.
“Ugh.” A small voice next to her complained. She'd stayed quiet so far. She wasn't always keen on Dozzer, even less so when he was after money.
“I know, baby, it's gross.” Ella wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her out into the street. “It's cold, zip your coat up.” If there was ever a reason to get out of their current accommodation situation, she was it.
“Can we go to the cafe?”
“Not today, you're in breakfast club.” They navigated the street, avoiding puddles from the never-ending rain and bags of uncollected rubbish. Ella checked her watch, late again. She only had half an hour to get to the school and then on to Slough House. Lamb never said anything if she was late, just an arched eyebrow and withering stare. She still had no idea how much he knew - or didn't know - about her. She'd certainly not told him anything. She hadn't told any of them, six months of polite-ish conversation and pointed silence. Grabbing the girl's hand, Ella dashed out onto the pedestrian crossing outside the school. An approaching car slammed on its breaks and sounded the horn. Ella spun around to face the driver.
“It's a fucking crossing, you twat!” She yelled. The driver glared at her. The driver she recognised glared at her, and then quickly realised that they knew her. “Fucking hell, Cartwright, you trying to kill us?” She raised her middle finger and continued across the road and into the school gates. She waited at reception for the breakfast club staff and said her goodbyes. As she walked back towards the road, she saw his car parked up across from the school. He beeped the horn once and gestured for her to get in.
“Sorry, I was miles away.” He said as she got into the passenger seat.
“My own fault. I shouldn't have rushed us out.” She muttered. “We were running late.” He didn't say anything. He merged with the traffic and drove in silence to Slough House. “I didn't mean to call you a twat,” she said as he went to open his door once he'd parked up.
“Yeah you did. You gave me the finger after you'd recognised me.”
“Yeah I did,” she replied sheepishly. “Can you umm… can you not tell anyone?”
“About giving me the finger?”
“About her.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Does she… does she have a name? Am I allowed to know?”
“Thanks for the lift.” She ignored the question and slammed the car door, trudging up the death stairs of Slough House.
“Oh, on time I see? Just about.” Lamb sneered. He perched on the edge of Ho's desk.
“Just about is still on time,” she told him on her way past.
“Fucking hell, a Cartwright on time as well. You pair are spoiling me today, am I dying?” He jeered as River shoved the heavy door open.
“God I hope so.” River muttered, dragging himself up the stairs behind Ella. By the time he'd stopped off to see Louisa, Ella had made a cup of tea for herself only, and pulled on noise cancelling headphones. “Make my own then, shall I?” He dropped into his wobbly, missing-a-wheel office chair and got stuck into the files Catherine had left on his desk. An hour later, Ella looked up from her files to fingers clicking in her face. She frowned and pulled off the headphones.
“Yes?”
“You haven't said anything for like, an hour.”
“I'm working?”
“Well, yeah but -”
“Did you want something?”
“Can I ask a question?” She didn't reply so he went ahead. “What's her name? How old is she?”
“That's two questions.” He waited, expectantly. “She's eight.” Ella sighed.
“And?”
“You'll take the piss out of her name so I'm not telling you.”
“You really think I'm in a position to take the piss out of someone's name?” She pursed her lips to hide the small smile.
“Her name is Clover.” She braced for laughter, or a derogatory sneer which didn't come.
“It's nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yeah, cute. Very hippy, I don’t envy teenage Clover. Did you choose it?”
“I did. I thought… I hoped she'd bring me luck.”
“Is that why you're here? Bad luck?” She shook her head slightly and put the headphones back on. End of conversation. “Right. Good chat, at least twenty more words than usual so that's progress.” Her head had dipped again, back to the files.
“Are you talking to yourself?” Shirley asked from the doorway.
“No, I'm talking to… her,” he trailed off miserably when it was clear Ella wasn't listening at all.
“Twat. Lamb wants you.”
“Two twats in one day. I am a lucky boy,” he sighed, leaving Ella alone.
*
As much as Ella appreciated Clover's preference for the sex workers over the drug addicts in the small block of flats, it made it somewhat trickier to explain why she wasn't allowed to pop and show them her freshly painted nails - which they always loved to see - or why she couldn't hang out at their flat for any longer than it took to say hello in the corridor.
“Why do they always have visitors?” She grumbled, admiring the purple glitter polish Ella had let her have on for the weekend.
“Because that's their job lovey, their visitors pay to come and… play games together.”
“Like monopoly?”
“Something like that.” Ella mumbled, head halfway in the oven which wouldn't light. She idly wondered how long the gas would take to kill her, then she remembered she hadn't paid the bill. “Shit.”
“What's up?”
“McDonald's for tea. Get your shoes on.” Ella sat back on the kitchen floor, stained with god knows what, and always sticky no matter what miracle cleaning products she brought. It had to get better than this. Surely it had to get better than this. She gritted her teeth, breathing in short huffs to try and keep the tears at bay. She'd felt a pang of terror after giving away Clover's name to Cartwright. For six months she'd been so careful, not daring to speak about her to anyone just in case, just in case, it somehow reached other ears. She had no way of knowing who Cartwright was in with. He appeared above board, but didn't they all? In sleep deprived delirium, she'd even researched how to change Clover's name via deed poll. She hadn't slept properly for nearly a week, hadn't paid the gas bill, but she had a fiver in her pocket and a handful of change - enough for a kids meal and maybe something for herself if she was lucky. She leaned into the door and wiggled the key, and led Clover out, passed the congregation of kids on the stairs and straight into the girl's pimp.
“Alright, El? Still got a job for you if you want it?”
“No thank you Pav, payday on Monday. I'm sure I'll get by til then.”
“A loan then? You don't even have to pay me back in cash,” Pawel Wójcik leered at Ella, a rolled cigarette caught between his teeth.
“Nope.”
“They love a milf ya know? Could get you forty quid a go?” Forty quid sounded like a lottery win but Ella stood fast. She held Clover's hand tightly.
“Bye, Pav.” She kept it polite, always kept it polite. He wasn't a man she wanted to upset or demean, she didn't have to work for him, he still had the ability to make her life miserable. She hadn't realised how much of a sliding scale ‘miserable’ was. She'd been miserable before but at least they'd been warm and well fed. She hadn't had pimps offering her work or addicts asking for cash. Bills were paid, and Clover had her own room. It wasn't going to be for long, she soothed. She was fighting hand over fist to get back the security deposit from the flat before. The letting company were trying to lay the blame for the mould on her and were holding onto the deposit to pay for the flat to be cleaned. Another call on Monday to get them to pay up and once they did she'd be back on her feet again. Assuming she made it to Monday. They huddled in bed together, even with the lack of sleep Ella finally felt peace. Her baby in her arms, too old really to be sleeping in her mother’s bed but when there was only one bed the options were limited. Ella thought it funny how Clo proclaimed to be a big girl who wanted her own room back, her own bed back, but who suddenly became so small again when it came to bedtime. Her stomach rumbled, the small burger she’d managed to scrape together the change for wasn’t really enough. She hoped the girls down the hall would be up in the morning, they usually had plenty of bread for toast. Pawel wouldn’t allow them to go hungry, it was bad for business when the sounds of hunger got in the way of the blow jobs.
“Fuck me, you look like shit.” Sofia told her the next morning through a cloud of cigarette smoke.
“Can we borrow some bread til tomorrow?”
“Sofia, look at my nails!”
“Oh Clo, they look beautiful! Why don’t you ladies come in for a cuppa.”
“You don’t have any visitors?”
“Nah, we’re free til lunchtime. Don't expect to see Lulu though, she's sleeping off a big night.” Clo raced through the flat to the plush pink velvet sofa and flicked on the TV. Sofia put a gentle hand on Ella’s arm. “Rough week?”
“Awful. I need to call that letting agent again tomorrow, if I had that money back we’d have a safety net. I wouldn’t be hunting for fucking change to take to McDonalds.”
“Can you even pay cash there anymore?” Sofia put a huge mug of tea down on the table. Ella cleared her throat, nodding over at the draining board which was laden with dildos. “Sorry, washing up. I’ll hide these.”
“Please don’t make me explain to an eight year old what a dildo is.” Ella grimaced. With the dildos away, a plate piled high with buttered toast made its way to the table. Ella ate until she felt sick.
“Better?”
“Thank you. I’m sorry we had to come to you.”
“Don’t be. I’d rather look after you two than a fifty year old on viagra,” she shuddered. “Heart attack waiting to happen - and my first aid at work is not up to date.”
“You haven’t heard anything?”
“If he’s out, everyone’s keeping it quiet. I’ll tell you if I hear otherwise.” As Ella left, Sofia pushed a twenty pound note into her hand.
“I can't take -”
“You can, you will.”
“I'll pay you back.”
“You won't. I've been there babe, I promise it'll be worth it.”
*
“Cole, with me.” Lamb ordered as lunchtime drew near on Monday. Ella's face fell, she'd planned a Subway payday treat before her wages were swallowed by bills and school clubs. She glanced over at River who shrugged and then followed Lamb outside, down the stairs and round the corner into the Chinese restaurant. His usual order was on the table already. “Whatever the girl wants.” He told the staff.
“Oh, no I'm fine.”
“You ain't paying, I know you’re broke.” Ella blushed. “Saw you nicking biscuits from Ho's desk for breakfast last week.”
“Chow mein please.” She mumbled, eyes tracing the red gingham tablecloth.
“Get her some other bits as well, will ya? Put it on my tab. Now, what I'm trying to work out is why you're so broke. It's not the old fizzy lifting powder, you're not as twitchy as Dander. Longridge is the resident gambler -”
“Just had a few big bills this month.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why are you asking me? You could just find out from the Park. Or Ho.”
“I'm asking you,” he said sternly. After a few sloppy bites of noodles, he softened. “Look, you don't seem as brain dead as the rest of the idiots upstairs. You've done everything I've asked for six months, and stuff I haven't asked for, you haven't complained, you've had your head down and got it done. Some people far more stupid than me might actually think you were enjoying it.”
“Believe it or not, I am.”
“But why?” She pushed the chow mein around her plate.
“I was married. I am married, actually. He's a big deal in organised crime, moves things around, makes things disappear. Money, drugs, people, gold, you name it. The Park were watching the gang, he made me doctor some images and change some tracking details to throw them off. Taverner found out it was me.”
“Did they get him?”
“Only on a lesser charge. A few of the lads went down for him on the big stuff.”
“He’s a bully then. Must be if he got his underlings to go down for him?” Ella swallowed thickly.
“Yeah. He doesn't like… disobedience.”
“Where is he now?”
“Serving a year, but he might be out by now.”
“And Taverner sent you to me. Why didn't she have you charged?”
“My dad is a copper. Between them they made it go away.”
“Bet daddy dearest was happy about that.”
“I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him for years.”
“Disowned and yet he still saved you from the clink, eh?”
“Something like that.”
“What a pickle you're in. A fallen woman, pushed from a life of luxury into squalor. You should write a book. Make sure there's lots of pictures though, otherwise Cartwright won't be able to read it.” He laughed loudly at his own joke and followed it up with a belch. “C'mon eat up. Will he come after you?”
“I've been staying low, I know a few people who are listening out for me,” Ella thought of Sofia and Lulu, teasing any snippets of information from clients they knew of who had links to him. Lamb nodded, seemingly happy enough with her response.
“We'll see, shall we? And the money?”
“I ran away with nothing. I've had to get deposits and advance rent together, it's just been a bit hard that's all.”
“Let's call this your six month probationary review, eh? Congratulations, you've passed and it comes with a payrise effective right now.” He pulled a battered wallet from his pocket and handed her a wad of notes.
“No, that's not right -”
“You're on less than the others, even Dander and she's only about twelve. Someone fucked up on payroll. Accept it and say thank you, Lamb.”
“Thank you, Lamb.”
“You're welcome, now this ain't a fucking charity so that's your lot. Sort your shit out and don't bring it to my door.” Ella hesitated, feeling like she should acknowledge Clover somehow.
“Just so you know, if everything did go to shit -”
“Oh fuck off, Standish can keep your fucking cat if the ex offs you.”
“I have a daughter.” Lamb stared.
“What do you want? A medal?” His cutlery clattered onto the empty plate. “Alright. Say no more.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't get all fucking weepy, you're better than that. Pull yourself together and get back to work.” Ella nodded and got up from the table, leaving Lamb alone with the leftovers and his thoughts.
*
Feeling buoyed by her conversation with Lamb, Ella took advantage of Cartwright going to get a coffee and called the letting agent. She was halfway through giving them an earful when he returned. She knew he was eavesdropping, the page he was reading hadn't turned despite only having a handful of text on it. Unless Lamb had been right and he couldn't read.
“Look, you owe me that money, that flat was not fit to be lived in. I have photos from the day I moved in, I have my hospital records which show I had three successive chest infections caused by black mould and I have a solicitor who specialises in getting deposits back from fraudulent landlords. I will put those pictures on every single platform I can and tell everyone that you're putting children at risk.” She kept her voice low but it dripped with anger. The monotonous voice on the end of the phone barely registered her threats. Ella balled her hand into a fist and bit down on it to keep from shouting. She didn't notice River get up from his desk until he was leaning over hers to pluck the phone from her ear.
“Pay her the fucking money back or I'll be down your office in an hour with the police.” Ella stared, River listened to the response. “I don't give a shit how long it's supposed to take, it's taken long enough.” There was silence again while he waited, tapping his long fingers on her desk. She watched his hand, not daring to look up at him. “Thank you.” He handed her the phone. “Check your account,” he left the call connected while Ella opened her banking app. Her jaw dropped, confirming the payment had been received. He took the phone back again, “That's come through. See how easy it was? Don't let it happen again.” When he passed her the phone again, she flinched. “Sorry, I shouldn't have interfered.”
“It's fine. Thank you.”
“You should go and get the cash out, hang on to it.” Ella frowned. Her new cash is king world was still taking some adjustment. She'd been so used to waving a platinum credit card, her phone, her watch, at a pin machine. She was amazed at how quickly she'd become frugal. The watch and her latest model phone - traded in for a basic handset - had been sold to buy a bed.
“Yeah, you're probably right.” She sighed heavily, an odd feeling settling in her chest that she couldn't quite place. Relief. For the first time in months she felt relieved.
She didn't abandon her vigilance entirely, but between telling Lamb and Cartwright - a duo she never envisaged being remotely trustworthy - the bare minimum, she relaxed enough to be able to sleep at night. She ensured that her private life remained completely private. No one but Lamb knew of her ex, and no one else other than Lamb and Cartwright knew about Clover, and she intended to keep it that way. But she found herself drawn to swapping book recommendations with Catherine, and even the constant arguments between Marcus and Shirley occasionally raised a smile. And then of course, there was Lamb.
“Turnock’s fucking teacakes?”
“They were out of jaffa cakes.”
“And you see me eatin’ marshmallow do ya?”
“Don’t turn your nose up. What’s the suitable alternative?”
“I dunno Cole, use your brain. Knew I shouldn't have told you you had half an extra brain cell than the others.”
“Hobnobs. Shall I get you some hobnobs?”
“Fucking hobnobs,” Lamb grumbled, pouring a scotch from the fresh bottle he pulled out from the bag. “Least you got the scotch.”
“As if I'd leave you hanging there.” Ella put her hand on the box of teacakes, intent on taking them back downstairs to have one with a cup of tea.
“Leave the teacakes.” He eyed her though the bottom of the glass.
“Thought so.”
“Jaffa cakes tomorrow or you’re out of here. Got it?”
“Jaffa cakes tomorrow.” She agreed. He ripped open the box.
“Oi here y’are.” She caught the airborne red and silver wrapped teacake he threw at her and beamed.
“Cheers, Lamb.”
“Off you fuck, work to do.” Ella slipped through his office door and gave Catherine a wave on her way down the stairs. She managed to find two reasonably clean mugs and made tea, popping one on the desk next to hers and one on her own desk. Headphones on, she unwrapped the chocolate covered marshmallow and took a bite.
“Bit early isn’t it?”
“Cartwright, there is no early when chocolate is involved.” She dragged off the headset and let it hang around her neck.
“Did you get me one?”
“Nope.”
“So that’s how it is?”
“I made you tea.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and nodded at his desk. Next to the mug of tea was a packet of hobnobs. He smiled, small, but a smile nonetheless.
“Thanks, Cole. Still sucking up to Lamb?”
“It’s not sucking up, he actually likes me. You’ll never know what that feels like.” She put her hand to her heart and pouted. “Sucks to be you.”
“See all you've done there is lure yourself into a false sense of security,” he opened the packet and snapped a biscuit in half, dunking it in the tea, “he doesn’t like anyone.” Catherine made her way through the maze of offices with a pile of files.
“Morning you two. Thank you for the book, Ella, very enjoyable. These are tax returns from the early 90s relating to the Havilland job.”
“Love a dodgy tax return,” Ella gratefully received her half. “I'll bring you the next in the series if you like?”
“Lovely, I've passed the first one onto Louisa.” “That's great, I told her she'd love it.” Ella smiled. River frowned.
“Since when is anyone actually nice to each other around here?” He muttered holding the second half of his biscuit in the tea for a fraction too long. It broke off with a solemn plop into the liquid. “Bollocks.” Since Lamb had taken a chance, Ella thought to herself. Since she'd allowed herself to feel the tiniest modicum of joy that she'd managed to escape from hell and had survived. It was far better than the self-flagellation she'd gone for originally, there might be a mountain to climb but she had to celebrate the achievement of making it to base camp. That evening, come 5pm, there was a mass exodus from Slough House and after six shit months and one less shit, almost verging on normal month, Ella felt able to actually smile at her colleagues as they departed. She walked down the slippery stairs with River, into the evening rain.
“See you Monday,” she said, opening her umbrella. He was looking past her at the bus stop. “Oi, dickhead, see you Monday?”
“Yeah, Monday.” His brow furrowed as he looked not quite at her, his attention still on the bus stop.
“Cartwright?”
“Do you need a lift to the school? It's pissing down.”
“No thanks, I'll live. You're going to the pub with Louisa anyway.”
“You should come next time.” He said, finally looking directly at her.
“We'll see. I should go.”
“Have a good one.”
“You too.” He watched her leave, walking in the opposite direction of the bus stop where the figure he'd been watching had vanished.
*