Bad Boys of London: The Complete GYPSY HEROES Collection (46 page)

I don’t take the letter from him. ‘No, I have thought about it carefully.’

‘You’re throwing away a really good career on a whim. I always saw you as one of the managers here.’

He did! Really? Who would have guessed by the horrible way he treated me?

‘It’s not a whim, Sir.’

‘Why don’t you have dinner with me tonight?’

My eyes widen with shock. Wow, Rob has always been so distant and cold with me that I can’t think of a more uncomfortable way to spend an evening. Besides I have absolutely nothing in common with him. I shake my head.

‘It’s not a date,’ he says dryly.

I flush bright red with embarrassment. See, why I can’t have dinner with a brute like him? ‘I know that, Sir. Of course, it’s not a date. I realize that you just want to try and talk me into staying, but really there’s just no point. I’ve made up my mind.’

He stands. ‘I think you’re making a mistake.’

I smile awkwardly. It never crossed my mind that he would try to stop me from leaving that he even considered me such a valuable member of his team. Having said that, I suppose I was pretty useful to him. I did all the legwork so he could go out there and achieve all his monthly quotas.

‘Why don’t you take the leave that you are owed to relax and reflect on your decision? And if for any reason you change your mind you can always come back.’

I shake my head and start backing away. ‘No, my mind’s made. Thank you, Sir, for everything.’

‘Wait, Ella.’

Holding the door open I turn around and find he is only a few feet away from me. ‘At least finish the bloody week,’ he says angrily. ‘You’re going to leave everybody in the shit leaving like this.’

I’ll be glad to see the back of him. I shake my head, and say resolutely, ‘Goodbye, Sir.’ Then I close the door, happy that I have made the right decision.

Three weeks later …

SIXTEEN

M
y mother always has her children driving over to her other childrens’ houses delivering homemade food. I’m sure she does it because she thinks it will mean we see more of each other. Maybe she’s right. I suppose I would see less of them without these errands she makes us all run for her. This week I have a box of Shane’s favorite—lemon cupcakes—sitting on the passenger seat of my car.

I turn off the engine, grab the cakes, and, locking the door, cross the courtyard toward his apartment. My brother is a funny guy. It
’
s easy to misunderstand him and think he
’
s a pushover or a shallow playboy, but that’s just a façade he employs since it
’
s so convenient and effective. The opposite is true.

He’s actually very deep. Deeper than me, anyway. Me, I’m a simple guy. Neanderthal simple. Especially when it comes to women. My woman is my woman and mine alone. Shane’s more complicated. He doesn’t go out there all guns blazing to keep his woman.

Like that time with Lily. It was Shane who was first interested in her, but he took her to a party at Jake’s house, and Jake and Lily immediately hooked up. I know that Jake and Lily are mad about each other and all that, but the ease with which Shane allowed Jake to take his woman shocked me. I mean, I don’t know what I would have done. I love my brother, but I might have had to punch him real hard. I know I definitely wouldn’t have behaved like it was nothing, like I was some sort of wuss.

It bothered me so much that I asked Shane how he could be so cool about something like that. He shrugged and said, ‘I can get a woman any time. Sometimes I open my kitchen drawer and one pops out. But I can never replace Jake. I’d give my life for him. He’s family.’ 

And suddenly I remembered being fourteen again. My father had just been killed, and Jake had taken his place, so he was never in the house. It seemed to me then that my whole family was falling apart, and for some weird reason I became furious with my mother, as it was her fault that my father had stolen money from a gangster and had his throat cut.

Rebelliously, I began to act out. I cut school and would never come home until late, and when I did come home I wouldn’t speak to anyone. I was rude and sullen. I stole alcohol from the supermarket and got drunk. And when I was drunk, all I wanted to do was fight. I fought with everybody in those days.

Shane had just turned ten, then. One night I came home late, nearly midnight. Layla was asleep, Jake was out, of course, and only my mother and Shane were home. I walked into the house and heard a strange crooning sound coming from the living room. So I stopped and tiptoed to the door, and what I saw changed me forever.

My mother’s head was in my brother’s lap. She was weeping quietly, and he was gently stroking her cheek and kind of singing to her in a strange, reedy voice.

‘Don’t you worry, Ma. Don’t you worry. Everything will work out perfectly. Jake and I’ll take care of you. Dom will come around. He always does. Don’t you worry, Ma. Don’t you worry.’

I didn’t show myself. I walked backwards out of the door. I went to an illegal, open-all-night pub and got totally smashed. I felt so ashamed. Shane had taken on the role that I should have. Jake was doing his bit, and I was slacking. No one had asked me to change my ways. Everybody was just waiting for me to come to my senses.

I woke up the next morning with an almighty hangover, and totally changed. I pulled my weight, and I’ve never forgotten the strength of character that Shane showed at the tender age of ten. I know it’s all still there. He’s playing the part of the devil-may-care playboy, but one day the real Shane will come through and reveal himself.

I open the entrance door to the block of apartments. It’s a Sunday night—the night porter is nowhere to be seen, and the reception area
’
s deserted. I get into the lift and hit the button for Shane’s floor. The doors open, I get out of the lift, walk down the short corridor, and knock on his door. He opens it in a stained T-shirt and ripped jeans.

‘You OK?’ he says.

‘Yeah, good,’ I reply and hold out the box of cakes.

‘Thanks.’ He takes the box, immediately opens it, and, selecting a cupcake, bites into it. ‘Delicious,’ he says, and holds the open box out to me.

‘Nah,’ I decline, and he shrugs and leads the way to his living room.

We get into the room, and to my surprise my niece and nephew are playing there. They squeal with delight when they see me.

‘Where are their parents?’ I ask.

‘Mummy and Daddy and Uncle BJ and Aunty Layla have all gone to dinner,’ Liliana announces importantly.

I look at Shane curiously. ‘Are they here on their own with you?’

‘What’re you looking so surprised for?’

I cross my arms. ‘They trust you to take care of their kids?’

He seems amused. ‘Yeah.’

I feel vaguely miffed. ‘How come they never ask me to babysit?’

‘They love their kids, Dom,’ he says with a perfectly straight face.

I scowl. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

He raises both his hands in mock surrender. ‘Hold your fire. Just kidding. It’s probably because you don’t know the first thing about babies.’

‘How much is there to know?’

He grins. ‘Can you change a diaper?’

Changing diapers! Of course not. ‘Can you?’ I ask, genuinely surprised. See what I mean about my brother being a dark horse.

He shrugs carelessly. ‘Sure.’

‘When did you learn to do that?’

‘Had a girlfriend who had a kid,’ he explains casually.

‘How difficult is it?’

He pops the last bit of cake into his mouth and says, ‘Piece of cake.’

‘So why won’t they trust me to babysit?’

He puts the box of cakes down on a cabinet and turns to me. There
’
s a curious expression on his face. ‘Do you want to?’

I look down at the kids and hesitate. 

Shane begins to smile. That ‘stupid, see, I knew you couldn’t do it’ smile.

It gets my back up. ‘Yeah, I do,’ I say nonchalantly.

‘OK, I’ll let you get on with it then.’

‘Wait a minute. Where are you going?’

He looks at his watch. ‘If I leave now, I could take Tanya out to dinner.’

I frown. ‘You’re going to leave them both here with me? Alone?’

‘That
’
s the plan. Unless you think … you can’t cope.’

I look at the children. They
’
re sitting on the floor like two little angels. They stare back at me with big, curious eyes. Of course I can do it. What can possibly go wrong? If Shane can …

‘No, go ahead,’ I tell Shane. ‘Have fun. I can manage.’

But Shane has me figured pretty good. He
’
s already pulling his T-shirt over his head and striding toward his bedroom. He comes back into the room in a clean T-shirt. My brother is so good-looking he doesn’t even need to run a fucking brush through his hair.

‘Right then,’ he says cheerfully. ‘All their stuff is in the spare bedroom. In an hour’s time, warm the milk already prepared in the bottles and just give it to them.’

I nod slowly.

‘You sure about this?’

‘Have fun, Shane.’

‘Laters,’ he says to the kids, and, winking at me, goes out of the door.

I look at the kids. ‘It’s just us now,’ I say, and walk to the window, where I watch Shane get into his car and roar off.

Inside the apartment Tommy gives a great big howl.

I rush to his side. ‘What?’

‘I pinched him,’ Liliana confesses calmly.

‘What did you do that for?’

‘He poked me in the heart,’ she says tearfully, pointing to the middle of her chest. ‘And it hurt.’

‘He’s just a baby, Liliana. He didn’t really mean it,’ I explain reasonably.

‘Yes, he did,’ she insists as I pick Tommy up while he carries on with his meltdown. I realize immediately that there
’
s a very bad smell coming from him. Holding him at arm
’
s length, I then put him back on the floor.

Liliana is looking up at me with enormous accusing eyes, and I experience a rush of panic. I shouldn’t have let Shane leave. I brush my face with my hand while Tommy continues to bawl inconsolably.

‘Fuck it,’ I mutter, and pick him up again. I hold him the way I see everybody else holding babies. The way Shane does. With his little stiff body close to mine—but he only screams even harder. I put him back on the floor.

‘Do you want some ice cream?’ I offer desperately.

Tommy stops crying instantly, and, standing up, gazes at me with tear-stained, hopeful eyes. His mouth is still quivering, just in case I don’t come through with my offer. ‘I cream,’ he shouts happily.

‘Yes, ice cream,’ I repeat brightly.

‘He’s not allowed to have any,’ Liliana forbids in an eerily grown-up voice.

At that, Tommy throws himself to the ground and howls his head off in frustration. ‘I waaaaant i cream. I WAAAAANT I CREAM,’ he hollers.

‘Why is he not allowed ice cream?’ I demand.

The little madam has her chubby arms crossed over her chest and is glaring up at me. ‘Because we are
both
not allowed.’

‘Why not?’

‘There’s sugar in it and sugar is bad for children.’

‘Well, he
’s
damn well having some,’ I mutter.

‘I’m telling,’ she warns.

‘Yeah, you do that,’ I say, and, picking Tommy up by the armpits, begin to stride toward the kitchen with her following behind. If she’s not careful she
’s
getting Layla’s disgusting gin and tonic ice cream.

There
’
s a highchair pushed up against a wall. I drag it to the table and secure Tommy into it. The smell from his diaper is making me gag. I move away from him and open the freezer door. One scoop isn
’
t going to kill them. Triumphantly, I pull out a tub of cookies and cream flavor and show it to Tommy.

‘Mmmm,’ I say in an exaggerated way and put it down on the counter.

Tommy cackles with delight.

I turn and look at Liliana. ‘This is your last chance.’

She blinks, and I know I’ve got her.

‘I won’t tell if you won’t,’ I cajole softly. I know it’s wrong to bribe her like this, but what the hell. This is an emergency.

She grins suddenly, and I see Jake in her little face. That same gorgeous smile. Something inside me knots up. I feel a wave of deep love for her.

‘I cream,’ Tommy demands, banging the tray.

‘Right,’ I say, and fill Tommy’s bowl with three scoops of ice cream, because one just seems so mean.

I pull a chair out and raise my eyebrows at Liliana. Very primly, she walks over to the chair and slides in.

I put a bowl down in front of her. ‘Do you know how to change a diaper, Liliana?’

She shakes her head solemnly. ‘No, but Mummy knows how. We can call Mummy.’

I pick up the ice cream tub and start scooping it out. ‘No. No, let’s not.’

‘Daddy knows how, too. We can call him,’ is her next brilliant suggestion.

I put the tub of ice cream down. ‘I know what,’ I say in an unnaturally high voice. ‘Shall we learn it together on the Internet after you finish eating your ice cream?’