Disobey (20 page)

‘And her drinking. Did she tell you about that?’

‘No … No she didn’t. I wish she’d been able to share it with me. Let me know she was struggling.’

‘You and me both, Fran. You and me both.’

‘It’s such a mess. I don’t even know where to begin. Oh before I forget, Lola sends her love and she wants you to know that being banged up is a pretty poor excuse for not getting the moose head for the café that you promised her.’

They both laughed; warm, gentle laughter driven by the mem-ories of the days gone past and the time they’d all spent together. The struggles they’d had and the heartbreak they’d shared over the years.

Franny sighed. ‘I didn’t know it would get to this. What can I do? What do you want me to do? How can I make this better for you, Vaughn?’

‘There’s nothing to do, Fran. I’ve got to take the bird; ain’t nothing else for it. And anyway, it ain’t like I didn’t do it.’

‘It was an accident.’

‘Yeah, one that’s seen Casey end up in a coma and Soho open to anyone who wants it. Don’t you see, Fran, the game’s up, sweetheart. It’s over. As long as Casey comes through, that’s all that matters to me; I’ll take whatever comes after that. Ain’t no wriggling out of this. Del was right, if I’d started saying it wasn’t me, all I would’ve done was bring everyone else down with me. It would’ve given them an excuse to go fishing, and you know as well as I do, there’s plenty to catch.’

‘It might have been okay.’

‘Don’t Fran, you know how it is. If I’d run when Doc called the ambulance, not only would I have left Cass on her own but they would’ve torn Soho apart, arresting everyone from Toms to pimps to dealers to the faces. And if I’d said the others were there, they would’ve had them down as accomplices. You know that. And if you’d stayed, well, who knows.’

Fran leaned in to Vaughn, whispering as well as covering her mouth with her hand in case any of the prison staff could read lips, as occasionally she’d heard of them being able to.

‘I picked up the gun. It’s in a safe place.’

Vaughn smiled wryly. ‘Thanks, but I don’t think them not having the gun will make much difference, seeing as I’ve admitted doing it and seeing as Casey has a bullet in her chest.’

‘Then tell me what to do.’

‘Go home. Go home, Fran and put your life together. Start afresh, forget about me and trying to make things right. And if I were you, I’d get as far away from Soho as I could.’

32

‘Harder. Harder. Use your fists. That’s better. Use the strap. Harder. Jesus, this isn’t Nickelodeon
.’ Mr Lee fed the instructions through to the live streaming as he sat in the next room.

‘Don’t you think that’s enough?’ Jodie bit her fingernails as she watched Chloe-Jane on the monitor.

Mr Lee turned round, hostility dancing in his eyes. ‘Excuse me?’

Jodie stammered, her eyes wide with worry. ‘It’s just … It’s just, she’s new at it. Can’t you go easy on her? It’s her first time and he’s hurting her.’

Mr Lee laughed nastily. ‘And how is this anything to do with you? Correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t it you who brought her here?’

‘Yeah, but I like her.’

Mr Lee mocked her. ‘
I like her
.
I like her
… The next thing you’ll be telling me is she’s your friend.’

‘She is.’

‘If she was your friend, why would you bring her here?’

Jodie looked confused. ‘Because you asked me to find someone.’

Mr Lee stood up, taking and squeezing Jodie’s face in his hands. ‘Exactly. And I’ve told you before, Jodie, you don’t need friends. You’ve got me. Do you understand?’

Tears rose in Jodie’s eyes. She nodded, her voice tiny. ‘Yes.’

‘Yes what Jodie, yes what?’

‘Yes, Mr Lee.’

Mr Lee threw her back, sending her flying. Jodie crashed down onto the floor. Sprawled amongst the chairs, Mr Lee kicked her hard in her side. ‘And don’t you forget it, Jodie. I was the one who cared for you. I was the one who took you in when no one else wanted you. That’s true, isn’t it?’

Jodie hugged her knees, rocking through the pain in her side. ‘Yes … yes.’

‘And if it wasn’t for me, you’d be back on those streets, doing God knows what and with God knows who. Is that what you want? Because if it is, you’re free to go. Go on; the door’s open. I don’t want to keep you against your will. In fact, I’ll pack your stuff now.’

Mr Lee walked towards the door. A moment later Jodie jumped up, clung to the back of Mr Lee’s jacket. ‘No, please! Please, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been good to me.’

‘Do you, Jodie? I don’t think you do.’

There was desperation in Jodie’s voice. ‘I do! I do! Just let me stay. You’re the only one who cares. I ain’t got no one else.’

‘I think you’re ungrateful, Jodie. I’m not surprised nobody else wants you. If I had a child like you I’d get rid of you too. Why should I let you stay?’

Jodie started to shake. ‘Because I love you.’

Mr Lee smirked, stroking Jodie’s face. ‘And this is the way you show it, by telling me you’ve got friends. I thought I’d be enough for you, Jodie; but clearly I’m not.’

Jodie was fully hysterical now. ‘You are! You are! Please give me another chance.’

‘Chances, Jodie, you’re always looking for chances.’ Mr Lee paused, watching the monitor for a time. He turned and smiled. ‘Okay Jodie, I can’t be like everybody else. I can’t be cruel and turn my back on you, so you can have your last chance, but I don’t want to hear any more about you having friends. We’ve got each other. Remember that, Jodie. The only person who cares is me. Without me, you’ve got nothing and I’m all you need.’

‘It hurts.’ Chloe-Jane looked at Jodie as she sat in the bath above the live streaming room.

‘It will.’

Chloe looked at Jodie. ‘What’s the matter, Jodie? Are you mad at me?’

Jodie stared, watching as the water turned red with blood. Watching as Chloe-Jane’s back welted up. ‘No, I’m just saying it will hurt. What do you expect?’

‘Jodie, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing, okay? Nothing. You’re here to work and so am I.’

The cuts on Chloe’s back seemed to hurt more with Jodie’s coldness and she wasn’t entirely sure if the reason she was crying was all down to the burning pain in her back or down to the fact Jodie was being strange with her.

‘Please, Jodie. What have I done? I thought we were friends.’

Jodie swivelled round, turning her back on Chloe-Jane, not letting her see the tears in her own eyes. She scoffed. ‘Friends? Why would we be friends? I’ve got enough friends without having someone like you hanging about … Now hurry up, I’ll be downstairs. Mr Lee has left your money.’

‘Jodie! …’ The door slammed shut, leaving Chloe-Jane alone in the bath, wondering why the idea of the money waiting for her downstairs didn’t make her happy.

‘And where have you been, young lady? I’ve been worried out of me mind.’ Lola stood, hands on hips, dressed in a nightgown which looked like something she’d stolen out of a Victorian museum.

‘Sorry.’

‘Is that all you have to say? Me mind was racing; there’s a lot of bad things out there. Not that I have to tell you that.’

‘I know Lola, and I really am sorry.’

Lola backed down, switching on the kettle. ‘Well you’re here safe now, that’s the main thing. How did you get on with the job?’

Chloe-Jane forced a smile, still feeling the burn in her back. ‘Fine. I got on fine, it was really good. And I got paid.’

Lola raised her eyebrows. ‘Already?’

‘Yeah, cash in hand. Look …’ Chloe-Jane opened her bag and proceeded to get thirty ten-pound notes out.

Lola whistled but her face turned quickly to a frown. ‘Listen love, I wasn’t born yesterday. Money like that isn’t earned by promoting a few clubs and pubs.’

‘You’re right, it wasn’t just that. I just didn’t know if you’d approve or not. This fella, he deals in designer bags; nicked ones. And I got lucky, I managed to sell three of them for him. So that’s my cut. Sorry, I should’ve told you.’

Lola studied Chloe’s face. The girl looked tired but she didn’t look like she was lying. And she supposed there was no reason why it wouldn’t be true. She knew a lot of girls who sold knocked-off stuff and they got a good cut, so why not Chloe?

Lola’s face broke into a smile. ‘That’s wicked, Chloe. What a touch. I’m pleased for you. I knew you’d be okay, I told Franny just as much.’

Chloe’s face lit up. ‘You saw Franny?… How is she? Did she mention me at all?’

‘She did actually. Obviously I didn’t tell her I’d seen you, but she was worrying whether you’d be alright. I assured her you would, and look, I was right, wasn’t I?’

There was such hope in Chloe’s voice as she spoke. ‘Do you think I should call her?’

‘No baby. Just leave her alone. She’s hurting and I know it sounds harsh but I don’t think she’ll want to hear from you. Maybe in time, but not now.’

Chloe-Jane put her head down. ‘Lola.’

‘Yes, love?’

‘Do you think I could stay here till I can get meself a place of me own? I can pay you. I can give you a hundred a week.’

‘I don’t know, love, it’s awkward. What with Franny.’

‘Please, Lola.’

Lola sighed. She didn’t want to have to lie to Franny but the girl had nowhere to go, and she seemed a good kid. A good kid with rotten parents. And it wasn’t fair. The girl needed a break, a chance to get herself on her feet whilst she saved up for a place of her own. Well why not? And what harm was it doing anyone? And if truth be told, Lola could do with the money.

Business had been down for a while. Too long in fact. She had to compete with the big chains of coffee shops popping up all over the place, so a hundred quid a week would be a touch.

‘Why not? It’ll do no harm, but I’ll have to keep it quiet. Just until it all calms down.’

‘Thank you, so much. I owe you.’

Lola grinned. ‘Don’t owe me love, just pay me.’ And with that, Lola gave Chloe-Jane a huge hug, not noticing the pained expression on her face or the blood seeping onto the back of her top.

33

Alfie sat contemplating what he was going to do next, as he had been for the past hour. And the answer he came up with was just the same as it had been last night and first thing that morning. He didn’t know, and the more he didn’t know the more it frustrated him, and the more he felt like wringing someone’s neck, preferably Chloe-Jane’s.

Part of him deep down knew he was being ridiculous blaming her for everything. But then, what did it matter if he was being ridiculous? Everything had gone pear-shaped anyway so blaming a seventeen-year-old kid seemed appropriate, given everything he’d been going through. He also knew he was feeling sorry for himself, but who else would if he didn’t?

Here he was sitting in his semi-furnished, semi-finished house on the wrong side of Basildon with no one giving a flying fuck about him. His daughter, Emmie didn’t give a crap about him, in fact he’d heard she’d gone to Sydney to visit some of his ex-wife’s relatives. Fuck knows he didn’t even know she had relatives in Australia, but then nobody told him anything. He didn’t know what the others were going to do. He didn’t know if Franny would ever speak to him again, and he didn’t know if Casey was going to make it. And that was all before he started on the
ifs
and
buts
of him and Vaughn.

Alfie gave a start. He was sure he’d heard something. Slowly he got up, trying to avoid the worst of the old wooden floor-boards which creaked and groaned underfoot. Shit, there it was again. The sound of breaking glass.

Looking around, Alfie grabbed the nearest thing he could find to a weapon, which wasn’t very much, unless an umbrella and a hot water bottle counted.

The sound of more glass being broken had Alfie running across the landing towards his bedroom which led to his en-suite bathroom. From there he could access the fire escape and make his way to the outhouse which held his shotguns. Fuck. Why hadn’t he brought them into the house? He’d been naïve to think that Del Williams and Frankie Taylor wouldn’t have come after him.

Getting to the bedroom, Alfie Jennings pushed it open, and froze. There was somebody in there. He turned, charging back across the landing, hoping to get to the stairs before whoever it was caught up with him.

Alfie ran down the stairs two at a time and scrabbled round the corner towards the back door; along the corridor, past both sitting rooms and through the kitchen.

Shit. Pulling at the handle, Alfie found the door was locked. With no other choice, he smashed his fist through the glass pane, not spending any time acknowledging his torn flesh and the blood which oozed out.

With the delicate pane shattered all over the tiled floor, Alfie dragged one of the kitchen chairs to climb on, hoping it would make the scramble through the door frame less precarious.

‘Mr Jennings. We meet again.’

The words immobilised Alfie and it took him a few seconds before he dared to turn his head towards the voice. There, standing with three other men was Lin, Mr Lee’s henchman and the man who’d taken delighted pleasure in hacking off his finger.

Alfie’s blood ran cold and instinctively, he began to scramble through the window.

‘Pointless, Mr Jennings. Completely pointless. If you wouldn’t mind me making a suggestion; perhaps it’d be advisable to come down from there. You could do yourself a mischief. Isn’t that the expression?’ Lin smiled as he watched Alfie standing with one foot on the chair whilst his other leg stretched over the jagged glass on the mid-section of the door, only just able to stand on the ground outside on his tiptoes.

He walked over to Alfie. ‘You don’t look very comfortable there, Mr Jennings. Here, take my hand.’

Alfie snarled. ‘I’d rather cut it off.’

Lin grinned. ‘Really? Well that can be arranged.’ He clicked his fingers to one of the men standing behind him. The man produced a large machete out of the inside of his jacket and passed it to Lin.

Alfie’s face blanched. He felt genuine fear and beads of sweat begin to drip down his back.

‘Worried, Mr Jennings? I wish I could say you needn’t be, but then I’d be lying.’ Lin raised the machete, bringing it down towards Alfie’s skull.