Lost Angel (28 page)

‘They’re your family, not mine,’ Johnny reminded her.

‘Don’t be angry with me,’ Ruth begged. ‘None of this is my fault. I didn’t know my dad was going to do this. I don’t even
want
it. You heard what I said to Mr Dean.’

‘Yeah, I heard, but I bet you only said it ’cos you knew it couldn’t happen.’

‘I had no idea.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Johnny muttered. ‘All that time you spent locked in there with Frankie before he died . . . you and him must have had the whole thing planned from the start.’

‘I swear to God,’ Ruth insisted, making the sign of the cross over her heart as a tear trickled down her cheek.

Johnny sucked his teeth and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

‘Where’s that tea?’ Rita demanded, popping her head out of the parlour. ‘Me and Trevor are spitting feathers in here.’

‘Coming,’ Ruth said, sniffing back her tears and wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Johnny went straight to the nearest bar and stayed there for the rest of the day and most of the night, snorting coke and drinking.

Somewhere along the way, he picked up a girl and ended up back at her place, where he attempted to fuck away the stresses of the day. But it didn’t work. The combination of booze, coke and rage made it impossible for him to come, and the girl had stopped enjoying herself long before he flipped her onto her stomach.

‘You’re hurting me,’ she complained. ‘Can you just stop now, please?’

Johnny gripped her hips firmly and carried on banging away at her.

‘I’ve had
enough
!’ she yelped, trying to crawl away from him. ‘Just get off me. You’re
hurting
me!’

She was crying by now, and that was what finally brought Johnny to his senses. He had never before in his life forced himself on a woman, but that was what he had effectively been doing for the last half-hour or so, and he was disgusted with himself.

‘Jeezus, I’m sorry,’ he croaked, sliding out of her and off the bed. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked as he reached for his clothes.

The girl gathered up the sheet to cover herself and stared at him with terror in her eyes. ‘Will you just go, please?’ she whimpered.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again. ‘Here . . .’ He took a handful of notes out of his wallet and offered them to her.

‘I don’t want your money,’ she sobbed, mortified that he obviously thought she was a prostitute. ‘I just want you to go.’

Sick with self-loathing, Johnny put the money on the bedside table and walked out.

Ruth was still awake when Johnny got home. She was sitting at the kitchen table, with a bottle of whisky and a pack of cigarettes in front of her. She didn’t even smoke, but this had been one of the longest, most stressful days of her entire life and she’d needed something to dull the pain, having spent most of the time in tears. Her eyes were so puffy now that she could barely see out of them, and her nose was so blocked that she sounded like she had a terrible cold when she asked Johnny if he was all right.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he replied coldly as he took a glass out of the cupboard and snatched the bottle.

Ruth picked up the strong scent of alcohol on him and guessed that he’d already had more than a few. But her heart constricted in her chest when she also smelled perfume.

‘Where have you been?’ she asked him quietly.

Johnny poured himself a drink and leaned back against the ledge. ‘Do you really want me to tell you?’

Ruth held his gaze for a few seconds. Then she shook her head and looked down at the glass in her hands. She wasn’t stupid; she knew he’d had other women throughout their marriage. But she’d chosen to ignore it, afraid to confront him for fear that he might admit it. And as much as it hurt to think about him sleeping with another woman, the thought of him leaving and setting up home with one of them if it all came out in the open was unbearable.

‘I was worried about you,’ she said, trying to bring him back to the subject at hand. ‘I thought you might still be upset about my dad’s will.’

‘It was his business,’ Johnny replied, as if he didn’t give a toss. ‘He was entitled to do whatever he liked with it.’

‘I know, but you’ve worked really hard to build it up.’

‘Yeah, well, it makes no odds to me now.’

‘You’re not going to leave me, are you?’ Ruth gazed up at him with fear in her eyes.

‘Dunno.’ He shrugged. ‘Haven’t decided yet.’

‘Please don’t,’ she begged. ‘Nothing’s changed. It’s just names on a piece of paper – it doesn’t mean anything. You’re still the boss.’

‘We’ll see,’ Johnny said. He swallowed the drink and put his glass in the sink. ‘I’m going to bed.’

When he had gone Ruth lowered her face into her hands and sobbed. She knew that her dad must have done it like this to make Johnny stay with her, but he hadn’t taken into account what a blow it would be to Johnny’s pride. And if Johnny decided that he couldn’t live with it, she would lose him for ever.

Johnny slept on it and decided to stay. Like Ruth had said, nothing had really changed. She might have the majority share, but he was still in control, and forty-nine per cent of a booming business was infinitely better than a fifty grand pay-off. He still had his cars and his money, and now that Ruth had as good as given him the green light to screw around he didn’t even have to make excuses for staying out late, so it was a total win-win situation as far as he was concerned.

Ruth was so relieved when Johnny said goodbye and went off to work as normal that morning that she burst into tears all over again. She hadn’t slept a wink all night for worrying and had convinced herself that he would get up, pack his bags and leave. But it looked like everything was going to be all right.

She still wasn’t happy about him seeing other women, but now that he knew that she knew she had no choice but to accept it. Either that, or confront him and risk losing him – and she would rather die than let some other woman get her claws into him. She wore his ring and shared his name, and it was her bed that he slept in most nights, her house that he called home, shirts washed and ironed by her that he wore on his back, and her womb that had provided his first child. Any woman could give him sex, but none could ever give him any of that – and that was the important stuff.

21

Angel was excited. Her dad had been away on a week-long business trip, but he was coming home today and she couldn’t wait for school to end so that she could see him.

Her last lesson was double English, and it had been dragging on and on. But when the bell rang at last, she jumped up, rammed her book and pen into her bag and made a dash for the door.

‘Back to your seat, Miss Conroy,’ the teacher ordered. ‘I haven’t given you permission to leave yet.’

‘Sorry, sir, can’t wait.’ She backed out into the corridor. ‘Desperate for the loo. Women’s problems,’ she added, grinning slyly when his cheeks flared.

‘Wait for me,’ her friend Vicky called after her. But Angel just waved over her shoulder and ran.

She burst out through the main door and carried on running all the way up the path, out of the gate, and on down the road to the bus stop, with her long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a sheet in the wind.

Her dad’s BMW was nowhere in sight when she reached the car lot a short time later. Disappointed, she waved hello to Tony, the salesman, who was busy giving a couple the hard sell on a Vauxhall Corsa, and made her way around to the office.

Angel didn’t remember what the yard had been like back in her grandad Frankie’s day, but it was really posh now, with a proper showroom for the more expensive cars and a glass-fronted office and reception area where the prefab had once stood.

Dave was sitting behind the desk inside, his head bowed as he dealt with some paperwork. Just like the yard, he had changed beyond all recognition over the past few years and was now a very different man from the stone-head that Johnny had first invited to help him get the business up to scratch. Back then it had been a laugh: a means of hanging out with his best mate while lining his pockets with easy money. Now it was his career, and he was proud to tell people that he managed a reputable business like this.

And it wasn’t just his business life that had changed. Since cleaning up his act, Dave had met and married Hannah, a lovely woman who was everything that Ruth and her mother
thought
they were: classy, intelligent, kind, funny. Life was great, and Dave wouldn’t change a thing. Apart from, maybe, kids. Hannah couldn’t have them, and that was a great source of sadness for them both. But he had his sister’s kids and his honorary niece to spoil, so he couldn’t complain.

He glanced up and smiled when Angel walked in now. ‘Hello, sweetheart, what are you doing here?’

‘I thought my dad might be here,’ she said. ‘Didn’t he say he was coming back today?’

‘He must have got held up,’ Dave told her, mentally cursing his friend.

Johnny had rung that morning to say that he was on his way back, but he still hadn’t shown and Dave could only assume that he’d dropped in on one of his tarts en route. And while he wouldn’t ordinarily begrudge him – because God knew it must be hell having to go home to Ruth and that devil in a dress that called itself a mother-in-law – Johnny must have known that Angel would be dying to see him, so he should have let her know if he was going to be late.

‘Fancy a Coke?’ Dave asked, reaching into his drawer for the keys to the soft-drinks machine.

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Angel sighed and flopped into a chair to gaze longingly out of the window.

Dave took a can out of the machine and handed it to her before going back to his seat. ‘Does your mum know you’re here?’ he asked as he took a bottle of Scotch and a glass out of his drawer.

‘She doesn’t tell me anything, so why should I tell her?’ Angel replied coolly, peeling back the tab of her can.

‘She’s still your mum,’ Dave reminded her, pouring himself a shot.

Angel didn’t bother answering this, but she did cast a disapproving glance at his drink.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he groaned. ‘It’s been a hard day. I need to relax.’

‘Yeah, that’s what my mum and nan always say.’

Dave raised the glass to his lips but lowered it again without drinking a drop. Angel always had this effect on him. Even when she’d been tiny, she’d had a way of looking at him that made him feel guilty. There was nothing snotty about her – she wasn’t like her mum had been when Ruth, Johnny and Dave had been younger. It was more a kind of knowingness, as if she could see past whatever came out of your mouth and read the truth behind the lies. Hannah had described her as an ‘old soul’ when Dave had introduced her to the family, and he thought she was spot on.

Angel took a sip of her drink and swivelled the chair back to the window in time to see a group of lads turn the corner and come strolling towards the office.

‘They’re early,’ Dave murmured, glancing at his watch. ‘Sorry, sweetheart.’ He stood up and came around the desk. ‘You’re going to have to wait outside for a few minutes while I run through the schedule with them.’

‘Do I have to?’ Angel moaned. ‘I’ll be quiet – you won’t even know I’m here.’

‘It’s business,’ he said firmly. ‘And girls and business don’t mix.’

She tutted and gave him a disapproving look as she got reluctantly to her feet. ‘Don’t
you
start. I get enough of that rubbish off my dad.’

‘Well, then you should know not to bother arguing about it, shouldn’t you?’ Dave teased, ushering her toward the door. ‘Go and sit in the showroom. I’ll come and get you when I’ve finished.’

Almost as soon as he’d said this, Angel heard the crunch of tyres and turned to see her dad’s car pulling up outside. She squealed with delight and ran to the door, just as the lads reached it.

‘Ladies first,’ one of them said, winking at her as he held it open for her.

‘Thanks,’ she said, waving to her dad as he climbed out of the car. She brushed against one of the others on her way out, and called back ‘Sorry!’ over her shoulder.

‘’S’all right,’ Ryan Johnson murmured, gazing after Angel as she ran to her dad. This was the first time he’d ever seen the boss’s daughter, and she was nothing like he’d expected. The way his mate Tommy had described her, he’d thought she would be a spoilt bitch with her nose in the air and a silver spoon hanging out of her mouth. But she looked totally unaffected – and absolutely gorgeous, with her long blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes.

‘You’re late!’ Angel threw herself into her dad’s arms and hugged him tightly.

‘Yeah, and so are you,’ he replied with a grin. ‘I’ve had about twenty messages off your mother in the last ten minutes, panicking about you not going straight home from school. Did you tell her you were coming here?’

‘I think so.’ Angel shrugged.

‘That’s not good enough,’ Johnny scolded. ‘You know she gets worried. And I don’t like the idea of you running around if no one knows where you are. What if something happened?’

‘Dad, I’m nearly sixteen,’ she reminded him. ‘And I haven’t seen you all week, so I don’t see the problem. It’s not like I’m always taking off, or anything.’

‘You still should have let her know.’

‘Fine, I’ll tell her next time.’ Angel sighed. Then, giving him a cheeky grin, she said, ‘I’m going to say you were waiting for me outside school, then
you
’ll get the blame.’

‘The earache, more like.’ Johnny chuckled. ‘And I suppose you’ll be expecting a lift home, an’ all?’

‘Of course. Unless you want me to take the bus . . . in the dark . . . on my own.’

‘It’s not even dark.’

‘No, but it will be in a bit. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re complaining. Anyone would think you didn’t want to spend time with me.’

‘All right, you win,’ Johnny conceded. ‘Just let me have a quick word with Dave first.’

‘Can we go for a Maccy D on the way home?’ Angel wheedled. She didn’t even want a burger, but it was the only thing she could think of to snatch herself a bit of time alone with her dad before they got home. Once there, her mum would want him all to herself and she wouldn’t get a look-in.