Rise and Fall (2 page)

He looked over to his little brother, sitting happily in his playpen. The poor little thing didn’t have any idea of what was in store for him; he cooed and smiled at any attention he was given while he wore a filthy babygrow and no doubt a nappy that was probably full to the brim with shit from the night before. It was all the poor mite knew.

His sisters were just as bad as his mum, lazy mares the pair of them, probably still asleep in their pits upstairs, when they should have been up and getting ready for school. His mum never bothered to moan at those two to get their arses to school, probably because she knew they were both thick as shit anyway and would end up just like her. Why bother wasting her breath?

They had never had money from what Jamie could remember; their food barely lasted the week and they had to live off toast or cereal half the time; every once in a while his mum would really push the boat out and do them all a microwave meal as a bit of a treat, although that didn’t happen very often.

It was the way it had always been. Jamie saw so many kids at school with flash phones and cool trainers. He had neither. He was lucky if his trousers weren’t swinging up around his ankles, or his school shoes weren’t pinching his toes, as they were always a size too small for him. Luckily, unlike some of the weaker kids who got bullied for being poor, or having short trousers, or pretty much anything that made them stand out against being ‘normal’ like everyone else, Jamie had never been a victim. He had an air about him that he wouldn’t stand for bullying, and he reckoned it was because of that no-one had messed with him.  

Even so, there had been many occasions when, despite the brave face he had put on, he had felt mortified that his clothes were dirty, or that he had to go to school wearing ankle-swinging trousers. However, he had gone to school, no matter how he looked or what he had been wearing, and he had always kept his head held high and made out if he needed to that it didn’t bother him.

He wasn’t prepared to do that anymore. This life might be enough for his mother, but it was a far cry from what he wanted for himself.

Jamie felt a pang of anguish as he looked over at Kevin again. Poor little Kevin. The kid had it all to come. The screaming matches, the guilt trips, the demands. Jamie hated the thought that when he left, Kevin may be next in line for his mother’s plotting and scheming, but Jamie just couldn’t do it anymore; if he stayed here even a second longer he would lose his mind. 

Jamie had made a plan last night as he lay in bed thinking about his new life, which would be a better one, and he had made a vow that he would make sure that Kevin was alright. He would get himself sorted out and then come back for him. 

Jamie walked past a garage on the way to school each day. It was near the high street. The owner looked like he earned a few bob, Jamie had seen him getting out of his flash motor all suited and booted, and Jamie had decided that this morning he was going to go there and see if he could sort himself out some sort of a job. He fancied having a go at learning the motor trade and had high hopes that even though he was young he would be able to start at the bottom and work his way up, even if it meant just cleaning cars and sweeping floors, he was prepared to do anything if it meant getting away from his mother.

Kevin smiled up at Jamie and held out his little chubby arms, wanting to be lifted out of the playpen, but Jamie couldn’t pick him up. He knew if he held his baby brother even for a second, he’d end up staying out of pure guilt. 

“What are you doing standing there looking gormless? Go and put your uniform on. Get your arse into gear, boy,” his mum demanded. Maura thought she had won, as Jamie seemed to have nothing to say for himself. 

“Yep, you’re right, Mum.” He nodded.

Smiling at the thought of Jamie finally doing what he was told, Maura picked up the TV remote ready to turn the volume up; one of her favourite programmes was about to start. 

“You take care, Mum, I’m off.” Jamie walked out of the room, ignoring Kevin’s cries as the poor little sod realised he wasn’t going to get picked up. 

As Jamie grabbed the bags that he had left by the front door, his mother hoisted herself out of her chair and made it out to him in the hallway in record-breaking time.

Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, she dragged him in close so that their faces were almost touching; the stench of stale cigarettes on her breath hit him full in the face, making him recoil.

“You’re off? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Maura was seething. Jamie would do as he was fucking told, she thought.

It was a step too far for Jamie; he was fifteen now, and his mother still felt she could control him; with every bit of balls he could muster, he let her have it.

“It means, Mother, I’m off,” Jamie spat back. “I’m leaving. I’ve had enough of your fat fucking gob and your constant fucking demands. I can’t bear to even look at you. You fucking disgust me. Now what part of that do you not understand you fat, lazy bitch?” 

Jamie spat the words with as much venom as there was truth. For the first time in his life, he witnessed his mum rendered speechless. Shrugging off his now silent mother, he pushed past her and slammed the front door. 

Breathing in the cool fresh air, he felt a surge of relief wash over him. This was the moment he had dreamt of for so long. He had finally broken away from her; at last, he had told her what he thought of her. He was the master of his own destiny now, instead of his mother’s mule, and for the first time ever Jamie Finch felt free to be his own man.

Shay drummed his fingers loudly on the dash-board, his agitation getting the better of him. They had been watching this house for hours, and his patience was beginning to wear thin. 

This was the swankiest road Shay had ever been to. It was a private lane in the middle of Oxshott in Surrey, and it had the most luxurious-looking houses he had ever set eyes on. Each house was immaculate, from the pristine manicured lawns to the gleam of the sparkling windows: there was not as much as a leaf out of place around here. As for the cars: well, they were in a whole other league. Porches, Range Rovers and Audis were parked in most of the driveways. These people must be swimming in money, Shay thought. It was a far cry from what he had to call home back in Lambeth; the only things that lined his street were fag packets and overflowing bin bags and plenty of them at that.

Normally their jobs were quite straightforward, but this one was proving more difficult. When they had followed this bird back to her gaff earlier, they hadn’t anticipated the extent of the wealth in the neighbourhood nor the tall, wrought-iron gates standing in their way. 

They would have to take their time before they made their move. The fact that they were squished into a crappy little blue Ford Escort that had seen better days, probably wasn’t aiding them much in their plan of keeping a low profile. The car stood out like a sore thumb, and it stunk, or rather Gavin’s arse stunk. 

“Ah, man; has a fucking rat crawled up your arse and died, or what?” Shay’s words were muffled as his hand was clasped over his mouth and nose trying to block out the stench.

“Sorry, mate, I think it was that doner kebab I had last night.” Gavin had the good grace to look shame-faced, as Shay wound down the window for about the tenth time that morning. 

Shay couldn’t help but notice that when Gavin spoke his breath actually smelt worse than his arse; feeling queasy, Shay turned his head in order to avoid the smell.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blonde woman finally come out of the house they had been watching just across the road. He watched as she tottered down the long driveway towards the brand new Range Rover that, a few hours ago, they had followed back to this street.

“Okay, here we go.” Shay sat bolt upright to get a better view. He was relieved that they could hopefully get moving, as they had already wasted enough time today. He had been bored shitless waiting, and he wanted to get out of here before someone noticed them.

Shay watched the girl walk to her car. She was hot, he’d give her that, blondes were his weakness when it came to women, and this one was something else: a real stunner. 

Nudging Gavin to get his arse into gear, Shay’s mind went back to the task in hand; no matter how hot the bird was, the Range Rover that she was about to get into was hotter and that was their main priority right now.

Turning on the ignition, Gavin knew what they had to do; there was a secluded lay-by at the entrance of the lane, lined with hedges. It was going to be much easier to do it there, they had figured, much less chance of being spotted. All the houses seemed to be gathered in one cluster at this end of the lane.

Driving on ahead, they had a few minutes to gather their thoughts and get themselves motivated for the task ahead. 

***

Looking into her rear-view mirror, Saskia Frost reapplied her lipstick, rubbing a pink smudge from her teeth with her finger. Then, she checked around her eyes for crows’ feet. 

She was only twenty-four, but in the harsh light of day and without her usual thick layer of foundation, she was sure that she could see the start of one or two little lines forming at the outside edges of her eyes and between her brows. She might book herself in to see that Botox doctor some of her girlfriends went to, Doctor Nutley-Rowe. His prices were probably high end, but his reputation preceded him, unlike some of the syringe cowboys she had heard horror stories about. The girls had told her that this doctor was so good that he had a list of celebrity clientele longer than her legs. 

Making a mental note to call one of her friends to get the doctor’s phone number, Saskia started the engine, trying to put the depressing thought of her newly found wrinkles out of her mind. She pulled off down the lane. Turning up the radio, she had just started to relax as she hummed along to a new dance track, when a blue Ford Escort pulled out in front of her, blocking the lane forcing her to brake suddenly.

“What the fu…?” Her head flung forward, as her car screeched to a halt. 

She barely had time to clock what was going on when a man wearing a balaclava jumped out of the car and leapt in through her car’s passenger door, opening it with such force he almost pulled it off the hinges.

“Get out of the fucking car,” he bellowed.

Saskia couldn’t think straight, her ears were ringing and she felt like she was going to pass out. She stared at the man in the balaclava, as if in a trance. She could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t hear any words, there was just a dull ringing in her ears as she tried to make sense of what was going on.

“I said get out of the fucking car: now.” The man pointed a gun straight at her.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion. This can’t be happening, Saskia thought. 

Seeing the daft bitch’s blank expression, Shay realised she was going into shock; he yanked off her seatbelt, leant over her and opened the driver’s door then pushed her out onto the road. 

As she landed with a thump on the road, thick dust flew up into Saskia’s eyes; seconds later, the tyres screeched as the two vehicles pulled off at full speed. Saskia heard someone scream; dazed and confused as she was, it took her a few moments to realise that the sound was in fact coming from her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched both the cars disappear from sight as they left the lane.

“Are you okay?” a man asked. Saskia recognised him as a busy-body from up the lane; he had obviously come out to see what was going on. “Have they just stolen your car?” he asked, shocked, as things like this just didn’t happen where he lived. This was a sought-after area. They had Neighbourhood Watch.

Saskia glared at the nosey neighbour, the shock of her beautiful car being stolen now turning into pure anger, talk about stating the fucking obvious!

The blue escort pulled into West’s Garage forty minutes later. It was closely followed by the gleaming black Range Rover. 

“Ah mate, that was a fucking heavy one.” A sweaty Shay jumped out of the four-by-four, relieved that they had finally completed the job.

Jamie walked over to inspect the car that he had spent the morning waiting for. It was perfect. They needed to get this out pronto; their client had been in a hurry with this order, and they were way behind. 

“Fucking bird wouldn’t get out of the motor, would she?” Shay’s pulse was racing as he told Jamie what had happened. 

Stealing cars used to be child’s play for them; motors could be broken into and hotwired in seconds, but the contract they were handling now was for luxury cars and their main client insisted on having the keys for every motor he ordered, otherwise the cars weren’t worth shit as far as he was concerned, and that always made their jobs of stealing the cars tricky. They now had to make sure that they nicked the keys as well as the motors, which doubled the chances of them getting caught. They would have to break into homes and steal the keys or like today, they would have to spend hours waiting for an opportunity to get the occupant out of the motor so that they could get in, which was even more tricky. The risks were much higher now.

Shay had felt a second of panic earlier when the blonde bird hadn’t got out of the motor when he had first told her to. People could go either way when they were dealing with their instincts in circumstances like that, especially if they went in shock mode, like she had, there was no telling how some people would react. Luckily Shay hadn’t encountered anyone brave enough to argue with him in the heat of the moment, especially when he had a loaded piece pointed in their direction. His adrenaline had been pumping today, but thankfully it had all gone to plan and the motor had been delivered in one piece. Satisfied with the boys’ job, Jamie told Shay and Gavin to go for lunch.

Ignoring Jamie lording it around the garage like he was the boss, just because the boys had managed to bring in another motor for him, Les Patterson couldn’t disguise the fact that once again his nose was firmly out of joint. He inspected every inch of the motor himself too. It had taken most of the morning to get it here, yet Jamie seemed to have once again come up trumps; it was immaculate.