The Betrayer (42 page)

‘Yes, please,’ Maria said, her voice was no more than a whisper.

‘I’ll be about half an hour. Have a lay down, eh?’

‘OK. Bye, James.’

James had the number of their local Chinese in his phone.

‘Make sure it’s ready by half past. Me wife ain’t well and I’m in a rush,’ he told Mr Chong.

As he drove towards home, he was worried. Maria had rarely been ill in all the years he’d known her and she certainly wasn’t a cry-baby.

Hearing the door open and close, Maria took deep breaths. Please God, don’t let him know I’m lying, she prayed.

‘You all right, babe?’ James asked, crouching down beside her.

Maria smiled. ‘I think I’m on the mend. I was so ill, James, the pains in my stomach were awful,’ she lied.

Lily giggled. ‘Mummy’s had the poo-poos.’

Seeing Tara burst out laughing, James couldn’t stop himself joining in with their banter.

‘Did you tell your posh friends that you had the shits, dear?’

Maria shook her head. ‘Of course not, I came out with some cock and bull about an imaginary cousin in a crisis.’

James laughed. ‘Have you rearranged the lunch?’

‘No, I felt that ill, rearranging was the last thing on my mind.’

James stood up. ‘I thought you put the phone down on me sharpish earlier. Was you on your way to the khazi then?’

Maria forced a laugh. ‘Yeah, I was, now stop taking the piss and dish the dinner up, will you? Don’t bring me any in, I couldn’t face a thing.’

As the girls followed James into the kitchen, Maria breathed a sigh of relief. He believed her; she’d got away with it. Thank God, her family had been spared the awful truth. What had happened was entirely her own fault and her penance was to live with that knowledge for ever.

FORTY-ONE

James chucked his tools on the floor and opened the back door to let in some air. ‘I dunno about you, Fred, but I’ve had it for today, mate. Me mouth’s like a camel’s arse, and I could kill for a cold beer.’

Freddie didn’t need much persuasion to stop work. Both he and James had spent the last few months literally working their bollocks off.

‘Let’s go to that little boozer down the road, eh? I’m starving and they do a nice bit of grub in there.’

On entering the pub, James flopped on the nearest bench seat and sent Freddie up to the bar. Renovating the house was good fun, but bloody hard work. Three months on, it had begun to take shape and both lads were overjoyed with their efforts. With little experience, they’d been a bit dubious in the beginning, so much so that on their first day they’d stood looking at one another like a pair of lemons.

Freddie had been the first to break the ice, ‘Come on, clever clogs. Seeing as all this was your idea, where the fuck do we start?’

Laughing, they’d got stuck in and had hardly come up for air since.

They’d been shitting themselves on their trip to the Costa del Sol. The thought of telling Bobby Adams that they were giving up the drug run filled them both with dread. They’d fully expected him to go apeshit but, surprisingly, he’d been fine and had taken their decision on the chin.

‘Obviously I’m disappointed, but I fully understand your reasons. You’ve both been fantastic to work with and I wish you all the luck in the world with the property venture.’

James and Freddie felt a mixture of relief and joy by Bobby’s reaction and, on his insistence, had stayed with him for a couple of days and had a whale of a time.

‘Now, remember, don’t be strangers. You’re always welcome to stay at mine any time you like,’ he said, as he dropped them at the airport.

James smiled as Freddie sat down opposite him.

‘You took your bleedin’ time.’

Freddie nodded. ‘They’re so slow in these country boozers. The Foster’s ran out and they had to change the barrel.’

As the two ploughman’s lunches were brought up to the table, both lads attacked them hungrily.

‘So, how’s Maria?’ Freddie asked, between mouthfuls.

James shook his head. ‘She’s still tearful and biting me head off.’

Maria’s behaviour over the last few months had been odd, to say the least. At first, James had thought she had a cob on because he was working seven days a week, but now he wasn’t so sure. She seemed to have gone off him, so much so that she didn’t even want him to make love to her any more.

‘You don’t reckon she’s bored with me, or met someone else, do yer?’ James asked Freddie.

Spitting his pickled onion back onto the plate, Freddie shook his head. ‘Never in a million years – she’s not the type. Think back over all the years you’ve known her. Has she ever gone off the boil with yer before?’

James racked his brains. ‘Only when she was pregnant. She was tearful then and didn’t want me anywhere near her, with both the girls.’

Freddie smiled. ‘Well maybe that’s your answer then. You’ve been trying for another one, ain’t yer? Maybe she’s up the spout.’

James shook his head. ‘We ain’t had sex for fuckin’ months and if she’d missed a period, she would have told me.’

Freddie shrugged. ‘If I was you, I’d get a test and make her do it. Sarah didn’t know she was pregnant with Daisy until I made her do the test.’

James ran his fingers through his hair. Maria was certainly acting all hormonal, so maybe she was up the duff.

He smiled at his pal, ‘Right, I’ll get us another beer and then we’ll go and find a chemist.’

Back in the East End, Maureen was all of a fluster. First, Kenny had rung up and invited himself round for dinner, then Johnny had phoned up from football informing her that his dad would be joining them for Sunday roast as well.

‘I’m gonna have to pop to the supermarket, Mum. The leg of lamb’s big enough, but I ain’t got enough fresh veg. I’d better get some wine and some beers as well. All we’ve got is Guinness, and we can’t offer ’em that.’

Much to Maureen’s annoyance, Ethel insisted on going with her.

‘Can’t yer stay here? I’ll be quicker on me own. It’ll take us a good hour or so if I have to push yer around in the chair.’

Ethel was having none of it. ‘Don’t be so fuckin’ wicked. I ain’t had no fresh air for days – anyone would think you were trying to kill me off.’

Maureen tutted. Ethel drove her mad at times. ‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. I was just thinking of the time. Kenny said he’d be here at one and it’s half eleven now.’

Ethel sneered. ‘Bollocks to Kenny! He only wants to come and see us ’cause he’s probably had a row with Lady fucking Penelope. Now pass me me blanket. Like it or not, I’m comin’ with yer.’

Over on Hackney Marshes, Johnny coolly placed the ball onto the penalty spot. If he scored this, it would secure his hat trick and, hopefully, win his team the game.

‘Go on, Johnny, you can do it!’ he heard his dad shout.

Staring into the keeper’s eyes, Johnny sent him the wrong way and blasted the ball into the roof of the net.

‘Well done, son.’

Running to the touchline where his dad was standing, the hat-trick hero threw himself onto the grass. As his team-mates joined in the celebrations, Johnny’s smile lit up the overcast skies of Hackney.

A few miles way, Maureen pushed Ethel around the supermarket as fast as she could. Satisfied that she’d gotten all that she needed, she made her way to the checkout.

‘What’s a nipper like you doin’ stuck ’ere on a Sunday? You should be out enjoying yourself,’ Ethel told the pretty young cashier.

‘I need the money to help out with my education. I’m still at college,’ the girl said, smiling.

Ethel shook her head and laughed. ‘Education, what a load of old bollocks! I could teach you more in a day than you’d learn at any bleedin’ college in a year.’

Maureen put her change in her purse. ‘Sorry, love, take no notice,’ she whispered to the shocked girl.

On reaching the exit, Maureen stopped to hang the bags on the handles of the wheelchair.

‘Excuse me.’

As a huge arm grabbed her shoulder, Maureen swung around and came face to face with a rather tall security guard.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked impatiently.

The security guard spoke in a strong Nigerian accent. ‘I need you to come back inside the store. I believe you have shopping that you haven’t paid for.’

Maureen pulled her receipt from her purse. Surely Ethel hadn’t been on the rob? She’d fucking kill her if she had.

Inside the manager’s office, her worst fears were confirmed, as a fresh chicken, a packet of strawberries and a tub of double cream were pulled out from under her mother-in-law’s blanket.

‘I forgot they were there – it’s me Alzheimer’s,’ Ethel said indignantly.

As luck would have it, the manager was a pleasant chap.

‘I’m so sorry. She’s eighty-six and not all the ticket,’ Maureen kept repeating.

‘Just pay for the items and we’ll forget all about it,’ the manager said kindly.

Embarrassed, Maureen shoved a tenner at him. ‘Is that enough?’

The manager led them back to the checkout. ‘You’ll have to pay here, the items need to be scanned.’

The young girl who had served them before smiled. ‘Back again?’

‘Mum forgot to pay for her shopping,’ Maureen said, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.

Outside the shop, she gave Ethel what for. ‘Next time you wanna go to the supermarket, don’t ask me to take yer. Why did you nick a chicken when we’ve got lamb for dinner?’

‘I thought we could have it in sandwiches for supper.’

‘We’ve got ham for sandwiches,’ Maureen said, fuming.

Ethel couldn’t stop laughing, ‘Cheer up, Maur, we got away with it, didn’t we?’

Maureen was really pissed off. ‘I swear on my life, Mum, I’m not bringing you out no more – that’s your lot. Never again will yer show me up, and I mean it this time.’

Over in Ingatestone, Maria was also cooking a Sunday roast.

‘I’m starving, Mummy. Is it ready yet?’ Lily asked impatiently.

Maria put the chicken back into the oven. ‘Don’t drive me mad, Lily. Go and sit in the other room with your sister, and as soon as Daddy gets home, I’ll dish up.’

Lily scowled at her mum, pouted her lips and walked away.

‘Mummy is so horrible lately,’ she complained to Tara.

Tara said nothing, but nodded in agreement. Their mum used to be happy and laugh a lot; now she was sad and shouted all the time.

Maria poured a glass of wine and sat at the kitchen table. She hadn’t felt well lately; she was always tired and had no energy whatsoever. Wondering if her fatigue was caused by her newly found friendship with alcohol, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. A couple of glasses of wine never hurt anyone and at the moment it was the only thing that got her through the day.

She’d tried her best to forget about Tommy’s visit, but it was hard – bloody impossible, in fact. Many a night she woke up in a sweat as images of his evil face interrupted her dreams. She knew that James was worried about her and she hated herself for that. He was working so hard to secure a better future for them; the poor sod deserved better than to put up with her moods.

Determined to try and be more cheerful from now on, Maria poured herself another drink. For the sake of her family, she had to try and snap out of it.

Back in Stepney, the house was full of high spirits. Ethel nudged Maureen as Johnny’s hand shot out for yet another helping of roast potatoes.

‘Bless him, I do like to see a growin’ lad eat well. Ain’t he got his appetite back?’ Ethel said.

Still smarting from earlier, Maureen ignored her and began to clear the dinner plates. There was no doubt that Johnny had come on in leaps and bounds since his dad had appeared in his life. In all honesty, Royston wasn’t a bad lad. Polite and well mannered, he was a good influence on Johnny and someone for him to look up to.

Once a week Royston drove up from Kent to spend the day with his son. His wife had hated the arrangement at first, but once he’d begun to alternate the Saturdays and Sundays, she’d kind of accepted the situation.

‘Who wants dessert? I’ve got apple pie and custard or strawberries and cream,’ Maureen said, shooting a look at Ethel. She wanted to remind her that she still had the hump with her.

Ethel chuckled. ‘They’re my treat, the strawberries and cream.’

Guessing what the joke was, Kenny looked at Maureen. ‘Please tell me she didn’t thieve ’em?’

Maureen shook her head. ‘Don’t ask – sore subject.’

Kenny turned to Ethel. ‘Ain’t you ever gonna learn to behave yourself, Mother? I know you used to chore when we were kids but, fuck me, you’re eighty-six years old. You must be the oldest kleptomaniac in living history.’

Ethel pursed her lips. ‘If it wasn’t for me givin’ birth to yer, yer wouldn’t even be ’ere, so mind your own business. Anyway, how comes you’ve invited yourself round for dinner? Had a row with Lady Penelope, have yer?’

Kenny shook his head. ‘Her sister and husband are over for the weekend; they were doin’ my head in and I had to get out of the house.’

Maureen laughed. ‘I bet Wendy weren’t too pleased when you said you were going out. Did you tell her you were comin’ here?’

Kenny took a mouthful of apple pie. ‘I didn’t say where I was going. Cor, this is handsome, Maur,’ he said, cleverly changing the subject. ‘Did you make it yourself, girl?’

Maureen blushed with pleasure. ‘Of course I did, it’s a recipe me mum taught me when I was knee high.’

Ethel watched her daughter-in-law with interest. Maureen glowed whenever her Kenny was about. The way she felt about him stood out like a sore thumb.

Over in Essex, Maria was trying her hardest to be jolly.

‘Can I have some chocolate ice cream, Mummy?’ Lily asked her.

‘I want banana split,’ Tara demanded.

‘Neither of you are having any dessert until you’ve eaten all of your vegetables,’ Maria said, smiling at James.