Page 28 of Coming Home
It was the payday loans that crippled her. Rosina saw it as the only option when a run of losses and big bets to try to clear them, mounted up. The repayments were astronomical but payday loans were so simple to arrange and they gave her breathing space to think and a bit spare to feed her addiction, because that’s what it was. Although she knew it, she simply could not stop even though her life was becoming a huge lie. She lived in fear of missing the postman or Lou picking up the mail from the mat, of him deciding to log on to internet banking – which was why she changed the password. There was something else she feared even more; and that was not being able to bet. She needed to. She had to.
Rosina was £27,942.36 in debt. She had run out of lines of credit and if she didn’t get her hands on more cash, Lou would find out. The night before Norman Carter came into the garden centre to buy a gift for his mum, Rosina had begged her gran for divine intervention. Lying in the dark as Lou slept peacefully by her side, she clasped her hands together and scrunched up her eyes in a last-ditch attempt for salvation.
Gran, you have to do something. I’m running out of options and seeing as you got me into this mess by dying on me, then sending me heavenly signs, I think it’s only fair you sort it all out. Joking apart, Gran, I’m in trouble and the proverbial is going to hit the fan so please, have a word with the boss and ask him to help me out.
The following morning she happened to be passing through the store and recognised Norman instantly from school. They were all part of a group who she and Lou still saw occasionally at functions or in the local pub, not best mates any longer, more the type you wave to or share a few moments of banter. Knowing of his reputation and current profession, Rosina made a beeline towards him. She knew she was playing with fire as they sipped cappuccinos and went down memory lane. She was glossing over the fact that he was the school thug who’d done well for himself, while he glossed over the fact that his chain of pawn shops and debt-collecting business weren’t exactly squeaky clean and above board. Everyone knew he was a loan shark and still a nasty piece of work, all wrapped up in his Armani suit.
She’d taken his business card when he offered it, and though she had squirmed when he suggested she gave him a call, Rosina assured him she would, and she did. The very next day.
‘It’s just a short-term problem that I need a quick solution to, no fuss. I realised after our chat yesterday that you might be able to help out and as you and I are old friends, I thought we could arrange something privately.’ Rosina’s face burned with humiliation, which was why she had to do this on the phone. The embarrassment was killing her as much as the stress of her predicament in general.
‘And how much do you need to borrow?’
Swallowing down bile she grappled with a figure in her head, tempted to ask for the whole amount but that was astronomical so she settled for a month’s wages: that would tide her over and balance the housekeeping books at least. ‘Three thousand pounds.’
‘And what is the money for, if you don’t mind me asking?’
She’d already rehearsed what she was going to say. ‘We’re still catching up from when Lou was furloughed and I went a bit mad on Christmas presents for the kids so this will help until I get paid at the end of the month.’
‘Why can’t you just ask your mother? She’s not short of a few quid.’
Sucking in her temper, feeling like she’d been slapped, Rosina forced a casual tone, hating herself for what she was about to say. ‘Seriously, I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than have her know my business. That’s why I’m asking you. You won’t mention this to anyone we know, will you?’
‘You’ll still have to sign an agreement, but if you want to keep it between us you can rely on my discretion. As you say, we go way back. Leave it with me. I’ll be in touch.’
Rosina knew she shouldn’t have sounded too eager but she couldn’t help herself. ‘I need it soon, as quickly as possible so when will I have it, the money?’
‘Why don’t I pop down to the centre tomorrow, you can sign the paperwork and then I can arrange to have it in your account almost immediately. I’ll see you at ten. In the café or would you prefer it if I popped into your office?’
Her mind raced. It had been a one-off and totally acceptable, chatting with an old friend in the café but if Norman came back people would be suspicious. ‘What about the car park by the woodland trail. It’s signposted on the road. I’d rather meet you there if it’s okay? You know how people gossip.’
‘That’s fine, and yes I do. I’ll meet you there at ten. See you tomorrow, Rosie.’
When the line disconnected, she shuddered and wondered if she’d made a mistake but needs must and secrecy was of the utmost importance. The last thing she wanted was her mum seeing her with Norman and asking questions. All she had to do was meet him, sign the papers and the money would be in her account and then she could clear some of her debts. It had been such a simple solution, another quick fix, another huge mistake.
* * *
Hearing Tilly shout up that they were leaving, then the front door slam, Rosina listened to her daughters’ voices as they walked down the path and off to school. Throwing back the duvet she rushed over to the window and pulled aside the curtains just in time to see the three of them turn the corner. The glass chilled her palm when she touched the window, suppressing the urge to call out to them, say she was sorry for not running them to school like always and that she hoped their dad hadn’t made them the worst packed lunch ever. Instead, she stood there and sobbed.
She’d missed three payments and each time Norman had added more onto her debt. ‘Interest,’ he said. ‘It’s in the paperwork,’ he said. And now what she owed had doubled and if she didn’t meet him that afternoon with the full amount in cash, then he was going to tell Lou and her mum because, as he’d said when she finally rang him back, he knew exactly where to find both of them.
Stumbling back over to the bed Rosina threw herself onto the mattress, dragged the duvet over her head and closed her eyes. The urge to grab her phone and see if she could place a bet, or try the slots was crippling her. Maybe she could find some coins in the kitchen drawer and go down to the shop and buy a few lottery tickets – but the EuroMillions draw wasn’t until Friday night and that was too late. Anyway, she’d wasted hundreds of pounds on the lottery already and she didn’t have the energy to get dressed let alone go outside.
Don’t touch your phone, don’t touch your phone.
Rosina repeated the mantra, sucking in air, squashing down a surge of panic. Riddled with anxiety, exhausted from living on the edge, the shame and the guilt and the worry was just too much. And then for the first time, loud and clear, a voice screaming inside her head.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
14
Leonora
Lay-by on the A34
Present day
It was pitch black and absolutely freezing outside the car but what could anyone expect at 5am on a December morning? And thank God for twenty-four-hour McDonalds and Google Maps for finding them a nice, isolated lay-by, perfect for a stupid o’clock rendezvous with the love of your life who was bleary-eyed and wearing whatever he’d rolled out of bed in, plus two sweaters and a beanie hat.
