The Good Life (35 page)

Jenny finished the bird and covered it in foil, then she cleaned up the kitchen quickly between sips of white wine. It was all feeling very festive, and she was looking forward to the big day tomorrow. For the first time in years she wasn’t dreading Christmas Day; that was a turn-up for the books as far as she was concerned. She finished her tidying and, after one last glance around her kitchen, she joined the others in the lounge.

Cain Junior and Linda were on the sofa together; her bump was becoming much more noticeable, though she was still tiny really. The tree looked amazing, and there were presents piled everywhere. There were also a couple of jewellery bags hanging from branches of the tree itself and Jenny wondered what Cain had asked his son to get for her. She never needed presents, but she knew it made Cain feel as though he was a part of the day. God, she missed him. Christmas was a real family time of year and he was conspicuous by his very absence. But she pushed those thoughts out of her head; she was going to be happy tonight and tomorrow if it killed her.

‘Oi, madam, I was talking to you!’

Her mother’s voice broke through her reverie and she said quickly, ‘Sorry, Mum. I was miles away.’

‘You’ve been like fucking Dilly Daydream lately. You sickening for something?’

Eileen actually sounded concerned and Jenny felt a sudden rush of affection for her.

Holding out her arms she said with a laugh, ‘Come here and give me a cuddle, you old bat!’

Thrilled and happy Eileen did just that and, as she hugged her daughter, she asked herself for the hundredth time how she had been so lucky. She was a lot of things, was Eileen Riley, but she wasn’t a complete fool. She knew that any other girl would have blanked her mother for the start she had been given. In spite of everything Jenny seemed to believe that you had to make the best of things. Eileen loved this girl with all her heart, and it pleased her to know her daughter felt the same.

Michael catcalled them, shouting, ‘Hugging a drag queen! Let me get a photo . . .’

Cain and Linda were laughing their heads off. Michael had a new digital camera and he was snapping away left, right and centre.

‘It’s nearly nine o’clock! Don’t let me forget to put that fucking turkey in at midnight.’ Jenny looked at Linda and asked, ‘Are you still staying here tonight, darling?’

Linda nodded happily. ‘Yes, if that’s all right.’

Cain Junior hugged her. ‘’Course it’s all right. You’re carrying the next generation of Morans, darling.’

Linda laughed and went bright red with embarrassment.

‘Who wants another drink?’ This from Eileen who couldn’t stand the sight of an empty glass.

The doorbell rang just as she went to the kitchen, and Cain jumped up to answer it. ‘More fucking carol singers, I’ll bet.’ He searched in his pocket for a few pound coins as he walked out of the room.

When Jenny heard the first shot, she thought for a wild moment that it was a car backfiring. As soon as she heard the second shot she ran into the hallway screaming.

Cain Moran Junior was lying across the doorway, his lovely handsome face destroyed. Then there was more screaming and Jenny was on her knees, trying to bring her son back to life again. But it was never going to happen.

Cain Moran had been miraculously released from the hole that morning. He was sitting with Des Harker and the rest of the lads at the kitchen table having cooked them all a large Bolognese with a salad and, of course, the requisite bowl of chips. They were all in a festive mood and looking forward to the following day.

‘Thank fuck they let you out, Cain. We were dreading trying to cook that fucking turkey without you. The food has been shit lately, believe me.’

Everyone laughed. They each refilled their glasses and raised a toast.

‘Another year out of the way, thank fuck for that.’

‘I’ll drink to that, mate.’

They were chatting among themselves when Des Harker’s mobile bleeped with a text message. As he read it, Cain saw his friend’s face change and, when he put his hand over his mouth in obvious distress, all the men at the table stopped talking and stared at him. Des shook his head in disbelief.

‘Everything all right, mate?’

Cain put his hand on his friend’s arm as Des gave him the phone, saying, ‘I am so sorry, Cain . . . just so fucking sorry, mate. Jesus fucking Christ. The bastard . . . the absolute bastard.’

Cain looked down at the message; the rest of the men were bewildered as to what the fuck was going on.

‘What is it? For fuck’s sake, tell us.’

Cain looked around the table with tears running down his cheeks.

‘Jason Biggs murdered my boy tonight. My Cain. Jenny will go off her head, he has a baby on the way . . . Oh, dear fucking God!’

He was sobbing bitterly and every man at the table was at a loss as to what to do. Des Harker put his arm around his friend’s shoulders and held him as he cried, wondering all the while at how a man could be so cruel, no matter how justified he felt his actions might be.

Michael Moran was still in shock. He sat holding Eileen’s hand as they waited in the hospital to find out what would happen to poor Linda. Jenny had been sedated, thank God; her screams had been like a wild animal’s. Linda’s parents were with them too, and they all were waiting silently to hear if she was going to be OK. The poor girl had been in absolute bits.

Michael wiped his eyes again, and Eileen squeezed him to her. She was crying silently too, unable to believe what the night had brought on them. The cruelty of Jason Biggs waiting until Christmas Eve was something she could not comprehend. It was evil. But that was what the criminal world could be, and if you weren’t able to allow for that you should not be a part of it. Still, to see her grandson blown away was not something she would ever forget. That handsome, kind boy with a baby on the way and his whole life ahead of him. It was evil all right, and it would finish off her poor Jenny for sure. Her only son – her only child – taken from her so brutally.

She was crying even harder now and, as she and Michael continued to hold one another, Jenny Moran lay in a hospital bed dead to the world, sleeping the sleep of the just. She would have to wake up at some point, though, and then the nightmare would begin all over again.

Cain was handcuffed to two Prison Officers, but they at least had the decency to keep as low a profile as possible. Jenny looked awful and, as she cried into Cain’s chest, he held her as best he could. The service had been beautiful and as they’d left the church it had begun to snow. It was a bitterly cold day and Cain was consumed with thoughts of making Jason Biggs pay.

Linda’s parents were supporting their daughter as far as they could. The only saving grace was the baby was still there – if she had lost that too it would have been unbearable. But, as Jenny kept saying, there was still a piece of her boy in the world.

They made their way slowly to the grave and Cain looked around him, wondering how it could have come to pass that he was burying his treasured son. He felt the sting of tears again just as his son Michael put a hand on his shoulder, and he smiled sadly. Michael was a good lad; there was no doubting that.

As they approached the grave, Cain saw his mother being helped along by Eileen. She had taken the murder of Cain Junior really badly – they all had. How else could a death like this be taken?

‘I knew if I waited long enough you’d get what was fucking coming to you!’

Everyone closed their eyes as Caroline stood spouting her usual hatred and vitriol.

‘I prayed for this – for you to lose everything – and you have.’

She was laughing now, but the sight of her son Michael left her so shocked she couldn’t say another word.

‘Go home, Mum. This is not the time or the place.’

As he started to walk towards Caroline she backed away as though he had the plague.

‘She got you and all, did she? She’s taken everything from me and now she has taken my son too, is that it?’

Caroline was becoming hysterical. Everyone was gawping at her; this had not been on the agenda and they didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Jenny stood staring at the woman who had been a thorn in her side for years, and eventually said loudly, ‘Can you really blame him, you mad bitch? Just go home and let us bury our son with a bit of dignity.’

Michael started dragging his mother away from the graveyard; she was not happy to be going. Cain was shocked at the sight of his ex-wife, and couldn’t understand how someone who had once been such a beautiful and vibrant woman could now look like someone from a Hammer horror film. It was proof of just how long he had been locked away.

He pulled Jenny towards him awkwardly and they resumed the walk to their son’s graveside. The snow was coming down thicker now and the ground was frozen solid. Cain looked around and felt pleased with the turnout for his boy; it was a mark of how popular he had been. All his old schoolmates were there, as well as ex-girlfriends, work associates and the other men he had come to know over the years. It reminded Cain of the fact that he still was part of a community and he felt a strong sense of gratitude that he had not been forgotten – he still had a place in the world he had chosen all those years ago. There were flowers everywhere and the snow was starting to settle on them. There was going to be a blizzard by the looks of it. Cain kissed his wife’s head and held her hand tightly as the priest started the final prayers.

Jason Biggs had a new bird and her name was Jemima. She was very posh and owned a lovely cottage just outside Manchester, which suited Jason as it was away from his wife’s prying eyes. Jemima also had a lot of money and plenty to say for herself – as per usual he had picked another nut-job. She was dark-haired with startling green eyes and small, juicy little tits. She also had the tightest snatch he had ever encountered and that was a big part of her attraction.

She was naked, on her knees, giving him a mind-bending blow job. He was in seventh heaven. She was new to the area and he could not believe it when she had come into his club and made a beeline for him. Not only did she have a voice like Princess Anne, but she could fuck like a train; she was everything he wanted, gift wrapped in a pale-grey Mercedes sports car. As he felt himself coming, he relaxed and let his mind wander a bit. He wanted to keep this feeling for as long as possible. So few birds enjoyed giving head, and when you found one who relished it you had to make the most of it. It was only manners, after all. But when he opened his eyes, he saw a man standing across from him with a gun. It was at that moment that he realised Jemima had set him up.

She was standing now, and she said in a broad cockney accent, ‘Get it over with, for fuck’s sake. I need to get back to Canning Town.’

The man was only too happy to oblige.

At Eileen’s flat, Cain was negotiating a deal with the local Chief of Police, Geoff Dawes. They went back years, and had a grudging respect for each other. The snow was bad and Cain was hoping to persuade the Police Chief to let him have one night with his wife.

‘Come on, tonight of all nights. Do you really think I could go on the trot and leave her in this state?’

Geoff Dawes was inclined to agree with Cain’s request. Ten grand was a big sum to pass up and there was Jenny Moran standing with the cash in her hands. It seemed the two POs were happy enough with the situation; if Cain went on the trot they would be in the clear with two grand each, which wasn’t to be sneezed at either.

‘All right. But I want your word, Cain, that you won’t get up to any funny business.’

Jenny looked sharply at her mother before she had the chance to answer them with a ribald retort. Eileen looked suitably shamed.

‘I am putting a couple of blokes outside, OK?’

Cain nodded and they shook hands on the deal.

When the police had left, Eileen tactfully retired to her bedroom with a bottle of vodka. Alone at last, Cain and Jenny looked into each other’s eyes. Jenny began to sob as Cain held her tightly, glad that, if nothing else, he could be there for her tonight of all nights. The night they had buried their only son.

‘It’s done, babe.’ She cried into Cain’s chest as he stroked her hair, and continued gently, ‘Jason Biggs is dead.’

She looked up at his handsome face and kissed him fiercely on his lips, her tongue slipping into his mouth, and he kissed her back deeply.

‘Thank you, Cain. Thank you . . .’

With that, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

Michael Moran was sitting with his mother, listening to her rant on as usual. Sometimes he felt as if he was living Groundhog Day over and over again.

‘Look, Mum, he is my dad. I was supposed to bury my little brother today, but instead I am here with you. You have got to listen to me for once.’

Something in her son’s voice broke through the fog in Caroline’s mind and she looked at him expectantly.

‘This can’t go on, Mum, I can’t live like this any more. I am going to move into my own place permanently and you’re going to have to start taking responsibility for yourself. You’ve got to keep up your medication and stop drinking so much.’

Caroline remained quiet, afraid of what her son was telling her. She was terrified at the thought of being alone.

‘You do so well in the diner – you’re the star of the show there. Why can’t you act like that all the time and be the star of your own life? Now, one of your staff members, Carole Borden, has said she is willing to move in here with you so you have a bit of company. You and her get on well, don’t you? I’ve seen you having a laugh together at the diner.’

Caroline was nodding now, and her bloated face looked so forlorn Michael was almost tempted to change his mind. But he knew that if he didn’t do this now he never would.

‘She will see that you take your pills on time, and she can cook for you.’