The Betrayed (21 page)

‘Hello, Mullins Exports. Sharon speaking, can I help you?’ came the chirpy voice.

‘Yes, erm, can I speak to Mr Mullins please. Eddie,’ Ruby asked.

‘Who’s calling, please?’ asked Sharon, sounding a mixture of surprised and bemused.

‘It’s… it’s his niece, Ruby.’

‘Oh, right. Well I’m sure Uncle Eddie would love to talk to you. Hang on and I’ll put you straight through.’

While waiting, Ruby’s face grew pale. Her hand was clenched so tightly around the phone that her knuckles were perfectly white.

Finally, Eddie’s voice came thundering down the line. ‘Ruby! Well, there’s a turn-up for the books! How are you, chicken? What can I do for you?’

Ruby took a breath. ‘I was wondering…’

‘What? Spit it out.’

‘I… er… I… Can I see my dad? Can you arrange it, Uncle Eddie? Can you arrange for me to go see my dad in prison?’

‘Of course I can, darling,’ said Eddie, taken aback. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ said Ruby. ‘I just want to see my dad, that’s all. I just miss him.’

‘Well… I suppose so. Yeah, I could do that for you.’

twenty-three

R
osie was understandably upset when Ruby told her that she had phoned Uncle Eddie, and that he was taking her to visit her dad in prison. Why did she want to see him, of all people? It was especially surprising, as they had done so well in building a new family unit with Andrew. She hadn’t ever really bothered with Johnny before – if anything, he’d been a bit of an embarrassment to her – so why now? But then again, Rosie was painfully aware that Ruby hadn’t been herself lately, so if a visit to Johnny would help her recover, then it was worth a shot. Ruby had been adamant that Rosie didn’t tell Andrew she was going – she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings, Rosie thought – so she kept her word and didn’t mention it.

It was around lunchtime the following Saturday when a sleek, metallic silver SL class Mercedes pulled smoothly into the car park adjacent to Britley House. The trio of teenagers who were kicking a football against a battered garage door abruptly stopped when they recognised the personalised number plate. They picked up their football, and stared with a degree of awe as the formidable-looking man climbed out of the car. Eddie needed no introduction to anyone ‘in the know’ in the East End. Even though he hadn’t been to Britley House for a couple of years, everyone on the estate knew who exactly who he was. The brothers, as locals who had ‘done good’, were almost worshiped in certain circles.

Hate-’em-all was with him, but he decided to wait by the car… not to guard it – nobody would dare touch it – but rather because of Dibble. Harry hated even the most placid dogs, so whenever Dibble ever came up in conversation, he would complain that, ‘If it were up to me, I’d have that fucking psycho dog put down, I would.’

Eddie strolled across the parking bays, past the walls covered with scrawled ‘tags’, the boarded-up doors, and the windows protected by iron bars. The corridors and stairwells were filthy, and Eddie sneered as he picked his way through the empty Coke cans, fag ends and the occasional used condom.

Although Eddie and Aunt Madge never really saw eye-to-eye, there was a degree of mutual respect, which always surprised Rosie. Eddie always watched his Ps and Qs around her, out of respect for her plucky spirit and grit, honed during the Blitz. In turn, Aunt Madge respected his ‘old school ways’ – not something to be taken for granted these days, she thought.

Aunt Madge’s highly-glossed red door had an immaculately polished door knocker and a doormat with two black paw prints printed on it. Eddie straightened his cuffs and adjusted his tie before ringing the bell.

‘Hello, Aunt Madge,’ Eddie said, as she opened the door, holding Dibble under one arm. ‘How ya keepin’?’

Looking up, she replied with a simple ‘Eddie’, searching over his shoulder for his sidekick Hate-’em-all. She never liked him… she could never trust anyone who didn’t like a dog as sweet and good-natured as her Dibble.

Ruby appeared in the doorway, clutching a small bag, and Aunt Madge gave her a beautiful smile, full of reassurance and love.

‘Call if you need anything, Rube, okay?’ she said. ‘You’ve got your mobile?’

Ruby nodded. ‘Hi, Uncle Eddie.’

‘Hello, love,’ Eddie said.

After spitting on the corner of her handkerchief and wiping a speck of dirt off Ruby’s face, Aunt Madge said goodbye. Eddie led Ruby along the landing, her hand looked miniscule, grasped gently by Eddie’s fat fingers. As they went down the steps, two young boys who were sitting and sharing a cigarette in the stairwell, swiftly edged out of their way.

‘Good lads,’ Eddie muttered, as they passed them.

By the time Ruby, Eddie and Hate-’em-all-Harry arrived at HMP Maidstone it had started to rain. Although the one-way system was as busy as ever, the only people on the street was a line of visitors, huddled under umbrellas, waiting to go inside the prison. Ruby flinched when she heard the squeaking sound of bolts being drawn back and a key being turned in a lock. The small door within the huge oak gate creaked open and the visitors began to shuffle inside.

Ruby hadn’t seen her dad in prison for five years. In the early days of his sentence both Rosie and Johnny felt it better if their daughter wasn’t dragged all over the country on visits. Rosie always showed her pictures of her dad, and they spoke on the phone fairly regularly, too, but still their relationship was far from conventional. Now, as Ruby waited patiently outside the prison that held him, she did begin to panic that, once inside, she wouldn’t recognise him.

With surprising tenderness, Eddie led Ruby inside, where she was frisked by a burly female prison officer. She wanted to impress her uncle and Harry, so did her best to take everything in her stride, even trying not to blink when a security camera took her image.

Ruby looked, and felt, smaller than her 12 years when she was led into the vast visiting hall. She dutifully took a seat at the battered and chipped Formica-topped table, while Eddie and Harry collected tea and snacks from the canteen. After what seemed like an hour, a loud electronic buzzer sounded, making Ruby jump. A heavy iron door swung open and a short officer with a thick moustache nodded to the Control, a sign that a category ‘A’ man was coming through.

Johnny filled the doorway. Ruby was surprise at the size of her dad – thanks to five years of working-out at the prison gym he had honed his stocky, British bulldog figure – but she recognised him immediately. The sight of him, in a white t-shirt and jeans, wearing a chunky Cartier bracelet on one wrist and a gold Rolex on the other, brought back a flood of memories. He had darker skin than she remembered, but the jet-black hair and cornflower-blue eyes were unmistakable. Spotting her, Johnny gave one of his rare smiles.

Ruby stood up. ‘Daddy!’ she cried, involuntarily spreading her arms.

Johnny rushed over and scooped her up in his arms. When she kissed him on the cheek, Johnny felt the unfamiliar sensation of a lump in his throat, and tears welling up in his eyes. It had been so long, he had almost forgotten… he had almost lost her.

‘Haven’t you grown up’ he said, putting her down and stepping back for a better look. ‘You’re
beautiful
. The dead ringer of your mother.’

Father and daughter sat next to each other, her arms wrapped tightly around his massive bicep. Sitting there with him, Ruby felt something that she hadn’t felt for what seemed like forever: safe… untouchable.

Eddie and Hate-’em-all returned with a tray of snacks and put it down on the table. Johnny couldn’t take his gaze from his daughter. With her clear skin and pretty eyes, she looked
so
much like Rosie. Over the course of the two-hour visit, he must have used the word ‘stunner’ over 20 times. Ruby, on the other hand, didn’t say much at all – she seemed kind of shy – she just nodded in all the right places, and smiled sweetly.

Inside, Ruby was in turmoil. She was desperate to talk to her dad about what had happened to her, but Rosie had given her strict instructions not to tell her father that they were no longer living in Hewitt Way. ‘If he finds out that Mummy has a boyfriend,’ she had told her, ‘there will be no end of grief.’

As Johnny, Eddie and Hate-’em-all sat around talking in hushed tones about ‘deliveries’, Ruby tried to think of a way to tell her dad about Andrew without getting her mum into trouble. Eventually, with time running out, she spoke up.

‘Dad? I…’

‘What is it, Ruby?’

‘Can… can I come and see you again?’

‘Of course you can,’ Johnny said, with a wink. ‘Why don’t you bring Mum next time?’

Ruby tried again. ‘Dad, Dad… I want to tell you something. I want to tell you something
on your own
.’

Sensing something wrong, Johnny said his goodbyes to Eddie and Harry, who told Ruby they would meet her outside. Once they had left, Johnny turned to his daughter.

‘What’s up darling? Tell me,’ he said. ‘Whatever it is, daddy will fix it. Listen, I know I haven’t always been a good dad – what with all the problems I had before – but I’ve always loved you. You know that, don’t you? And I always will love you, too. There’s
nothing
I wouldn’t do for you.’

Ruby took a deep breath. A tear –
a little diamond
, Johnny remembered Rosie’s name for Ruby’s tears – dropped from her eye. Johnny wiped it away with his finger, and looked deep into her pretty blue eyes. There was, he could see, a bleak sadness in there.

‘What’s up darling? Come on, you can tell Daddy.’

twenty-four

R
osie had a surprise for Andrew. His birthday was coming up, and Rosie had been called away to Brighton for a read-through and a series of meetings about a new film. She had expected to stay in Brighton overnight, but they had finished earlier than expected, so she made a last-minute arrangement to catch a train back to London to surprise him. He was off to Thailand – to film a documentary this time – and Rosie was overjoyed that she’d be able to see him before he left. It also meant she would be able to give him the new leather briefcase and hand-made birthday card that she had bought him.

After paying the taxi driver, Rosie let herself into the house where she heard muffled voices coming from the lounge. Deciding to climb into their bed and wait for him, Rosie quietly closed the front door behind her and tip-toed up the stairs. As she passed his private study she was surprised to see that the door was ajar. Andrew’s study was
always
locked. She thought it odd, but welcomed the opportunity to sneak in and put the card on his desk. He’d open it and read, ‘Come next door for your
real
present!’
Perfect
. She crept into the study and, finding a space on the desk next to his computer, she opened the card and began to write inside it.

At that moment she heard a ‘bleep’ – Andrew had an incoming email. She glanced over at it, and noticed a pile of photographs, the top one lying face down. Eager to see Ruby’s portfolio pictures, Rosie turned it over. It was Ruby all right, but there was something terribly wrong. Her daughter was wearing a bikini… a rather revealing bikini. She was lying on the white leather sofa that Rosie had noticed on the way into the study. Why would he have taken her picture in here? A scantily clad 12-year-old in a man’s private study. That wasn’t the type of photo shoot that Rosie had agreed to at all. Picking up the next photo, her very worst fears were confirmed: it was her little Ruby, topless. Instantly, a thick blackness descended, enveloping Rosie’s soul.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her stomach cramped up like she was going to be sick.

With her hands shaking so much she could hardly hold the photos, she thumbed through the others. Each one was worse than the last. How could this be? Andrew went to the local church… he ran his own company… he played golf at the local country club. He was so sophisticated… so decent. What were these photos doing there? It seemed so unlikely, that Rosie struggled to understand what they meant. The photos dropped from her hands, and she stood in silence on trembling legs.

She only snapped out of it when the computer made another bleeping sound. Still in a daze, Rosie opened the message. To her disgust Rosie discovered that Andrew had been logged on to a chatroom, and was messaging someone with the username ‘Sexy Suzy’. Reading the message Rosie was shocked: ‘Hi Corky, gotta be quick mums downstairs =) attached is picture you wanted’.

Rosie clicked the mouse, opening the attachment. There in front of her was a picture of young girl lifting her top up and exposing her naked breasts. The message continued, ‘will you meet me Corky? You promised you would if I sent you that pic. xxx’.

Scrolling through the filthy message, Rosie grew more and more shocked and horrified and scrolled through the other messages. Their words seemed to jump out of the screen, mocking her – ‘fuck’, ‘bitch’, ‘sexy’ – and all of them were signed ‘Corky’. Rosie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Not her Andrew? It couldn’t be.

Suddenly, she heard his voice downstairs, bidding his guests farewell. Rosie hurriedly picked up the pictures of Ruby and put them back on the desk. Then she hastily left the room, taking the birthday card. In blind panic she quietly scurried up the next flight of stairs to Ruby’s bedroom on the top floor. She closed and locked the door, and sat on her daughter’s bed. There, sitting in the dark, everything fell into place.