Cold Shoulder by Lynda La Plante Read Free Book Online Page B

yesterday. I’m not a charity, you know. Now, we’d better see which meeting you go to…?’ Rosie began making a series of phone calls and talked at length to someone whom she described as her sponsor. Eventually she hung up.
    ‘Jake figures I shouldn’t be your sponsor, but since I’ve taken you on, I’ll give it a try. Any time, day or night, if you feel the need for a drink, or someone to talk to, then you just tell me. Have you wanted a drink this morning?’
    ‘What do you think?’
    Rosie sighed irritably, and warned Lorraine that she did not have enough money to ferry them both all over LA. ‘Don’t you have any money at all?’ she barked.
    ‘No, but I’ll manage…’
    Rosie pushed past her, into the tiny kitchen area, took cereal and fruit, and began to munch noisily. Slowly, the warm, friendly Rosie began to surface. She complimented Lorraine on how she looked, and started counting dollars from her purse. Lorraine watched, trying to work out how much money it contained. As soon as she had a chance, she would steal it and get the hell out of the apartment.
    ‘How about social security? Can you claim any benefits?’
    Lorraine shrugged. Said she couldn’t recall any social security numbers, but declined to admit to Rosie why she didn’t want to — the skipped bail, court appearances, debts… If she tried to apply for financial assistance she’d be arrested. Rosie gulped her coffee and began to make a long list, chewing the end of an already gnarled pencil.
    ‘Okay. We got enough here for a few days, but we’ll look around for jobs, see about taking you to the social security to see if they can trace your numbers and maybe you’ll get some benefits. Not that you can live on what they dole out, I know, I’m on it—’
    ‘We? I can manage on my own.’
    ‘No, you can’t. I can’t go off to the hospital and leave you, well, not until I can trust you. So here’s some suggestions…’ She had jotted down waitress, cleaner, mostly menial jobs, and then listed all the addresses of AA meetings. Lorraine wondered idly if all this effort was to help Rosie keep on the wagon, never mind herself.
    ‘I thought you said you were something to do with computers. Can’t you get a decent job?’ Lorraine enquired.
    Rosie looked up. ‘Oh, yes. I can get into any bank and they’ll make me head cashier! I lost my job, my respectability. I’ve got no references, not even a driver’s licence, they took it away. I thought you’d know that — if you were a cop like you said. If you were, why can’t
you
get a decent job?’
    Lorraine began to chew at her nails. She’d finished the pack of cigarettes; now she craved not only a drink but a cigarette, too. She suddenly felt tired, and yawned. It was as if she had been up for hours, which indeed she had, but it was still only ten o’clock.
    ‘Can I use your toilet?’
    ‘You don’t have to fucking ask me to go to the john, for chrissakes!’
    When Lorraine didn’t show for fifteen minutes, Rosie went to check on her. She was curled up on her bed, deeply asleep, her hands cupped under her chin. Rosie studied Lorraine’s sleeping face, and realized that she must once have been beautiful. You could still see glimpses of it: in repose, Lorraine’s face lost its hardness. Her mouth was closed, so you couldn’t see the missing tooth, and the deep scar was hidden by the pillow. For the first time Rosie really wondered about Lorraine’s past, still certain that the cop line was just that — a line.
    She crept out, then searched through Lorraine’s belongings. Nothing. The brown paper bag was empty of any personal mementoes. No letters or cards, no make-up — and the plastic purse they had given her was empty, she hadn’t lied about that. But Rosie was sure she had lied about having no family; a girl who had been as attractive as Lorraine must have had someone — had maybe even been somebody.
     
     
    Rosie let Lorraine sleep for almost the entire day.