Get Even (35 page)

‘Come on, boys. We ain’t got all day, you know.’

Sharon looked around her home and felt a swell of pride. The move was the best thing she could have done and she was so pleased that Ray had insisted on it. Getting away from everything had completely changed her outlook on life and she loved the Essex countryside. But, best of all for her, was that the boys loved it here; they were thriving and that was what she really cared about – that and Ray and the child she was carrying inside her.

She was thrilled to be pregnant again and she felt that this new addition would complete their family. Ray was so good; he did not even care if it was a boy or girl. He saw young Lenny and Liam as his own sons and for that she would be forever grateful to him. They called him Dad now and, over the years, Lenny had gradually ceased to exist for them. She knew it was wrong but she was also glad of it. The photos in this house were all of the four of them, smiling and laughing and looking like any other family. She was blessed, she knew that much, and she was grateful for this wonderful life that she had. Sometimes it seemed too good to be true and that was when the old fears would plague her, but those feelings were getting less and less frequent. Ray wasn’t living a secret life; she trusted that deep down in her heart. He was the opposite of Lenny Scott. His lovemaking was different; everything about him was different. And that was what she loved about him.

Ray had expanded the businesses over the years and they now had quite a high standard of living. She loved that they had their own pool and enough land to give them privacy. The boys went to a Catholic school that wasn’t cheap, but it seemed to keep them out of trouble. As Ray said, you can’t fuck with the Jesuits, they were hard bastards. And they were that, all right. Ray prided himself on being a good Catholic and he had insisted that the boys had a proper education. It was paying off though – the boys were worn out with all the sport and they genuinely seemed to like their teachers – even if they did wear what Liam referred to as ‘dresses’. They were changing and that pleased her. They had a future now. Sharon had never been happier and it showed.

As Ray left with the boys to drop them off at school, she made herself a pot of tea and sat in her large, sunny kitchen contentedly. Life just didn’t get better than this. Not that she never argued with Ray. She could be stubborn, but they were the normal arguments and petty squabbles of family life: where to go on holiday, what they would do at Christmas. Ray always wanted them to go to his mother’s but now it was better for her to come to them. Old Annie Donovan loved coming to her son’s beautiful home. Sharon adored her. She was a wonderful woman. When Sharon had asked her where Ray got his dark good looks she had laughed delightedly and said, with searing honesty, ‘His father was a Turk. He left one day and he took my heart and most of my electrical equipment with him!’

Sharon had laughed with her then, but she could see the woman had genuinely loved the man, whoever he was. Annie got on well with her, and they were a happy family. Sharon’s mother thought the sun shone out of Ray’s backside and her dad thought the world of him too. So, despite all she had had to contend with, life had taken a turn for the better and she thanked God every day for that.

Reggie Dornan suspected that there was some business going on between Jack and Ray Donovan. It was obviously just between the two of them, but he wasn’t too worried about it. He too had his private deals with Jack Johnson – that was how their world worked. What he felt, though, was that whatever they were doing together, it was not something he wanted a part of. There was a feeling there of an almost unholy alliance. He knew it sounded melodramatic, even to his own ears, but he could not shake the thoughts away. Ray disappeared for days at a time, and no one knew where he was or what he was doing. Again, nothing so strange about that in their world. But Reggie’s gut instinct was telling him to be careful and not to pry.

He didn’t see that much of Sharon these days and that suited him, though she was civil to him and grateful for his help when she had needed it. His relationship with Lenny would always be there between them. He respected that she had kept it to herself though he guessed that was more for her and the boys’ sakes than his. Either way he was glad it wasn’t out there. Even in these enlightened times it was still seen as a weakness. Lenny Scott’s memory would have been destroyed and everything he had ever done would be suspect. It was wrong, but it was the world they inhabited, simple as that.

Reggie got out of his car and pressed the buzzer at the electric gates and then he waited in his car patiently for Sharon to open them. He parked on the large driveway and walked casually towards the front of the house. It was an impressive place, and he was glad for them.

Sharon had blossomed since she had been with Ray and the boys were not such a handful these days. Lenny had encouraged them to be boisterous, even while he punished them for it. Ray was a more moderate parent. The boys loved him, there was no doubting that, and Ray thought the world of them too. He took them to football and karate – whatever they wanted to do, he was as up for it as they were. Now he had his own child on the way and Reggie supposed that would complete the family.

Reggie kissed Sharon lightly on her cheek and followed her through to the big, bright kitchen that was like something out of
Homes & Gardens
.

She was pouring him a cup of tea as he said teasingly, ‘You’re getting bigger, girl!’

She laughed. ‘Fucker won’t keep still. Keeps nightclub hours this one. Moving all night and sleeping all day!’

Reggie took the mug of tea and laughed. ‘If it’s a boy, we’ll start him as a doorman!’

Sharon didn’t laugh quite so heartily at that quip. Sharon didn’t want her sons in the Life, thank you very much. She had great hopes for her boys and being criminals wasn’t one of them.

Reggie, realising he had put his foot in it, changed the subject quickly. ‘So, Jack tells me you need someone to sort out stuff for a cinema room, I believe?’

He could not help feeling the irony of Sharon’s annoyance at her sons’ implied criminality and the fact she expected him to provide stolen goods! But he didn’t say a word.

She nodded happily. ‘Come through, I’ll show you what’s needed. Jack said someone had a load of home-entertainment systems going cheap. It will be wonderful for the boys, obviously.’

He followed her through the house and she opened the door to a large room and beckoned him inside.

‘I’m getting black-out curtains made for the windows. But I don’t know what’s on offer screen-wise. You should decide really; I’m useless with anything electrical.’

He smiled at her as he surveyed the room.

‘So, how was Manchester?’

It was said completely without guile and Reggie looked at her and frowned. ‘What you on about?’ As soon as he spoke he realised he had put Ray right in it, but that was not his fault. If Ray needed a fucking alibi, he should have told him about it.

He saw Sharon’s head snap back quickly and then she composed herself saying, ‘Oh, I probably got the wrong end of the stick. Blame the pregnancy hormones!’

He laughed with her but the damage was done. The sun had gone out of her day and they both knew it. Reggie sighed heavily. He hated personal intrigue – even his sexual encounters were practised well away from his home turf. He would let Ray know he had dropped him in it, but the question had been so unexpected he had no chance. Let him sort his own fucking messes out.

Ray was aware that he had dropped what was known in his world as ‘a serious bollock’. It had been so last minute and he had forgotten to tell Reggie he needed an alibi for a few days. Sharon wasn’t in and out of the offices any more; they had people to take care of everything and she was more or less a homebody now. Ray could kick himself, seriously kick himself. He knew how dodgy it would look to Sharon, especially as she was heavily pregnant and on a short fuse. And now, on top of everything else, he had to go away again for a few days. He was leaving at five in the morning and he imagined that news was going to go down like a lead balloon. He sighed heavily. Sharon was a good girl, and he loved her, but she could be suspicious at times. His mum insisted it was a woman’s thing but he wasn’t so fucking sure. Sharon had a radar in her head, and nothing or no one could turn it off.

As he drove through the gates to his home he was amazed that he actually felt nervous. Sharon was the only person in the world who could make him feel like this – that she kept him on his toes was part of the reason he loved her. He hated lying to her but the truth, if she ever found out, would be so much worse. Not that he could tell her that, of course.

Jack Johnson was with a small, sharp-toothed man called Micky Biggs. An unfortunate name, considering his reduced size. At four foot eleven, he was just off being a dwarf. But anyone with half a brain would take one look at the short man and know instinctively that he was not to be fucked with.

Jack remembered seeing him attack a huge fellow once in a North London pub. The bigger man had made one too many quips about his diminutive height. It had been a sight to see, that was for sure. Micky didn’t so much fight, as bite. He was like a terrier and, like a terrier, he went for throat, ears and face. It was the sheer ferocity of his attacks that laid waste to his detractors. Now he was a small but respected member of the community, not that anyone ever mentioned the former. Not within Micky’s hearing anyway.

‘You look well, Jack. Time’s marching on, boy.’

Jack accepted the compliment easily. He knew this was just the preliminaries before Micky got round to what he really wanted to talk about. It was laughable, but it was social etiquette to get the niceties out of the way, pay each other due respect, before discussing who was going to get maimed or murdered. Jack sipped at his whisky and savoured the burn that accompanied it. Micky was of the strange breed of criminals who did not drink alcohol at all. He claimed he didn’t like the taste and that it made him aggressive. As if he needed any help with that!

‘How’s the wife, Micky?’

Micky sighed happily. He loved his Lynda with a fierceness that frightened everyone but her. She was a tall blonde with the body of a streetwalker. But they worked, somehow, and had one of the happiest marriages in their world.

‘She is fucking over the moon with the new baby. Fabulous mother and, now she’s breastfeeding, her knockers are fucking enormous!’

Jack laughed with him. ‘How many is that now, then?’

Micky’s face was tinged with pink as he said, ‘Five – all boys too! She wants a girl badly, so I suppose this won’t be the last one till she gets her way.’

Jack looked at this strange man with respect. He was a grafter, an earner, and he gave respect where it was due. As long as no one mentioned his height he was a good friend to have. But, like most men in the Life, he could be a bitter and ferocious enemy. Jack was interested to know who had been fool enough to fuck him off or try to have him over. But they would get there in the end. They always did. It was pleasant to chat with Micky Biggs; he was a lovely bloke – a gentleman.