1 The Cuckoo's Calling

“Met him, did you?”
“No, but she called ’im once while she was with me and I ’eard them on the
phone togevver, and they were a lovely couple. No, I got nuthin’ bad to say about
Evan. ’E ’ad nuthin’ to do with it, that’s proved. No, I’ve got nuthin’ bad to say
about ’im. As long as ’e’d of gone clean, ’e’d of ’ad my blessing. I said to ’er,
‘Bring ’im along, see wevver I approve,’ but she never. ’E was always busy. ’E’s
a lovely-lookin’ boy, under all that ’air,” said Marlene. “You can see it in all ’is
photos.”
“Did she talk to you about her neighbors?”
“Oh, that Fred Beastigwee? Yeah, she told me all about ’im, offerin’ ’er parts
hin ’is films. I said to ’er, why not? It might be a larf. Even if she ’adn’t liked it,
it woulda bin, what, another ’arf mill in the bank?”
Her bloodshot eyes squinted at nothing; she seemed momentarily mesmerized,
lost in contemplation of sums so vast and dazzling that they were beyond her ken,
like an image of infinity. Merely to speak of them was to taste the power of
money, to roll dreams of wealth around her mouth.
“Did you ever hear her talk about Guy Somé?”
“Oh yeah, she liked Gee, ’e was good to ’er. Person’lly, I prefer more classic
things. It’s not my kinda style.”
The shocking-pink Lycra, tight on the rolls of fat spilling over the waistband
of her leggings, rippled as she leaned forward to tap her cigarette delicately into
the ashtray.
“ ‘ ’E’s like a brother to me,’ she sez, an’ I sez, never mind pretend brothers,
why don’t we try an’ find my boys togevver? But she weren’t int’rested.”
“Your boys?”
“Me sons, me ovver kids. Yeah, I ’ad two more after ’er: one wiv Dez, an’
then later there wuz another one. Social Services took ’em off me, but I sez to ’er,
wiv your money we could find ’em, gimme a bit, not much, I dunno, coupla
grand, an’ I’ll try an’ get someone to find ’em, keep it quiet from the press, I’ll
’andle it, I’ll keep you out of it. But she weren’ interested,” repeated Marlene.
“Do you know where your sons are?”
“They took ’em as babies, I dunno where they are now. I was havin’ problems.
I ain’t gonna lie to ya, I’ve had a bloody hard life.”
And she told him, at length, about her hard life. It was a sordid story littered
with violent men, with addiction and ignorance, neglect and poverty, and an