Get Even (34 page)

‘I hope you never know another day’s peace, you vicious little whore. That will be my prayer, morning, noon and night – that you get your fucking comeuppance, young lady.’

Sharon laughed bitterly. ‘I might have known you would bring God into this. Well, He hates hypocritical old bags just as much as everyone else does. Now fuck off out of my house before I pick you up by the scuff of your scrawny neck and turf you out myself.’

She watched the woman walking away and she felt the urge to plant her foot firmly in Lesley Scott’s skinny, bony backside. Who the hell did she think she was?

When Lesley had left, Sharon went to the phone and rang her mother’s house.

‘Bring the boys over, Mum. The sooner we all get back to normal, the better.’

She felt better then, stronger. It was as if Lesley Scott had healed her somehow with her vitriol and her delusions. She knew she had to get her life back, for the sake of her boys and for herself. She remembered how once, at school, the English teacher had said that it wasn’t what happened to you, it was how you dealt with it. She couldn’t remember where the quote was from but it was apt. She wasn’t going to let this latest trouble destroy her. She was going to get on with it, make a good life for her and her boys, and she would get even with Lesley Scott, not by fighting with her but by putting this behind her and not letting it define who she was to become. Anger, she was finding, could actually be a good thing.

Jack Johnson was talking to Ray Donovan alone. Ray was not too bothered; he knew he had right on his side and, in fairness, Reggie and Barton had stopped him before he had done too much damage to Lenny Scott. He had done what he had set out to do: made sure that Big Lenny Scott never touched another woman as long as he lived. That seemed just and fair to him, though what had happened to his Sharon would not be so easily remedied. Now he looked calmly at Jack, a half-smile on his face. He had had his retribution; he felt better for that anyway.

‘What can I do for you, Jack?’ He spoke quietly and respectfully. He had no quarrel with Jack Johnson and he had a feeling that Jack didn’t have any quarrel with him.

‘Feeling better?’

Ray shrugged nonchalantly. ‘A little, if I’m honest. But it still doesn’t change anything for Sharon. What he did was brutal and frightening and soul-destroying.’

Jack nodded in agreement and sympathy. ‘True. But at least she hasn’t got to contend with him ever again. That in itself has to be a blessing. One thing, though. I’ve realised who you are, or rather who you were.’

Ray was immediately alert and he sat up straighter in the chair as he said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Jack smiled then. ‘Oh, your secret’s safe with me, son. I won’t say a dicky bird. Do you still keep in touch with the Wheelans? I know them well. Todd and Dingo were old muckers of mine many years ago when we were all starting out.’

Still Ray didn’t say a word.

‘Listen, if I really want to, I can find out another way, Ray, but I would rather hear it from you.’

There was a hint of a threat, but only a hint, and Ray relaxed somewhat.

‘They are fine. Obviously I don’t see that much of them now they are banged up. I hear the odd word, of course.’

He was challenging the man and Jack knew it and admired him for it.

‘Why are you so interested?’

Jack shrugged gently. ‘Curiosity. No more and no less. I knew that their torturer was an unknown – that he did the job well and that when it all went tits up they kept their traps shut about who you were. Wise men. Everyone is vulnerable in prison. Not the safest place to make enemies.’

Ray held his large hands up in a gesture of supplication. ‘So, now you know. What happens next?’

Jack Johnson smiled quietly. ‘Nothing. Why pick at a scab? I just wanted to know for my own gratification. It was the blowtorch that alerted me. I heard that was your forte. That and pliers.’

Ray laughed delightedly. ‘Those were the days, all right. No one knew who I was, see? So no one saw me coming.’ He coughed quietly before continuing, ‘I stalked my prey and I caught them. I tortured them and I left them to be found by relevant parties. I was good at my job and the fact that no one knew who I was worked in my favour when it all fell out of bed. I came South and the rest is history.’

Jack nodded. ‘You were lucky, Ray. The Wheelans kept schtum.’

Ray shrugged once more. ‘It was in their interests to keep quiet about me. I did what they asked and I know where the bodies are buried. They would never have seen the light of day again if I had turned.’

‘Which, of course, you never would!’

Ray laughed again as he said nonchalantly, ‘But the Wheelans didn’t know that, did they?’

‘Have you told anyone? Reggie or Barton?’

Ray shook his head. ‘And I am not going to. That was another life.’

Jack understood his logic and applauded it. ‘Sharon can never find out. You do realise that, don’t you?’

They held eye contact for a few seconds before Ray said casually, ‘She won’t. I can assure you of that.’

Jack smiled again. ‘Ever thought of taking on some private work? All under the table – no one would know who you are. I know a lot of people who would pay well for your kind of expertise.’

Ray was smiling again and Jack knew he had him. Men like Ray Donovan only came along every second or third generation and, when they did, they were worth their weight in gold.

‘I will broker for you and never mention your name.’

‘I’m game if you are, Jack. I miss my old occupation, if I am honest. A good stress-reliever, much better than the shite they spout on
Good Morning
!’

Jack laughed with him, pleased that he had struck the deal.

‘Fancy a quick snifter?’

Ray grinned, and it was as if the sun had come out, as he said happily, ‘Why not? Been a great day in many ways. It was good to get back into the swing of things. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it.’

Jack Johnson smiled but a small shiver ran up his spine. Now he knew exactly who he was dealing with, he would use extreme caution for the foreseeable future. This was not a man to cross. Even he knew that.

Sharon was bathed and in a robe when Ray came into the house. She ran to him and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She smelled of coconut shampoo and Nivea Creme. It was a smell he had begun to love. She looked up into his eyes and he smiled at her reassuringly.

‘It’s done. We won’t ever talk of it, OK? Not unless you want to . . .’

She shook her head quickly. ‘No, I don’t want to talk about it ever again.’

He hugged her tightly once more, and then she said, in a small voice, ‘Is he dead?’

Ray laughed then, and kissed the top of her head. ‘No, lass. He’s not dead.’

She kissed him lightly on his full-lipped mouth, and he kissed her back. Then the two boys came running down the stairs in their pyjamas and he held out his arms to them so they could join in with the hug. They were thrilled to see him and he was pleased to see them too. They were good kids, but they needed a stern hand and he could provide that for them.

‘Who fancies a game of Monopoly?’

His voice was loud and jocular and the two boys were immediately full of excitement.

‘I’ll make us all hot chocolate, shall I?’

As Sharon watched Ray and her sons setting up the game she felt a glimmer of hope. She had been so lucky when she had found Ray Donovan and she knew that his gentle firmness was just what her sons needed. His love for her was all-encompassing and she honestly felt cherished by him. Finally Sharon could see some kind of future. Christ Himself knew, she’d had enough to deal with in her young life. Surely it was time that she got some good luck? She had earned it one way or another.

She poured a shot of brandy into her hot chocolate and brought it through to the lounge where the boys were arguing over who was having the dog while Ray watched them with a big smile on his handsome face.

Lesley Scott looked down at her husband. He was in hospital and under sedation. He had been badly attacked by assailants unknown. His genitalia had been practically burned away and his fingernails had been removed with pliers, as had some of his teeth. Lesley knew that the police were not going to be investigating this too closely; that bastard Jack Johnson would make sure of that. She was too shrewd to make a scene or even hint that she knew who was responsible. But God was slow and He was sure, and she would pray every day to see that whore got what was coming to her. She would live to see Sharon Scott, her dead son’s widow and the mother of his children, brought as low as she had taken her. It was all that was keeping her upright – that and the hatred she harboured in her heart. The only thing she had left her with was this excuse for a man.

Dry-eyed she left the hospital and made her way to the nearest church where she knelt down before the altar and started her prayers for vengeance.

Great is truth and it prevails.

3 Esdras 4.41