The Graft (30 page)

‘What do you mean, he deals in guns?’

This from Louis who sounded surprised.

Colin said slowly and as if he was talking to a five year old, ‘You go to his house and he sells you a gun, that is what dealing means.’

They all laughed once more.

‘Very funny. I thought he only dealt in drugs?’

Colin shrugged.

‘One of my blokes got a lovely bit of iron off him, he’s cheaper than most and all. But knowing Leo, there’s a catch to it, has to be. He’s a user.’

‘Where’s Tyrell now?’

Louis shrugged.

‘Stoned out of his fucking box. Since he left Sally he’s changed. Can’t seem to get Sonny Boy out of his mind. But that’s natural, I suppose, considering.’

‘I don’t like that Sally,’ Billy put in. ‘Caroline said to me that she’s cold, and you know my old woman - she’s rarely got a bad word to say about anyone.’

They all nodded. It was a measure of the respect they felt for Caroline that the men at the table would listen to her opinion without a second’s thought. Unlike their own wives and girlfriends whose opinions were definitely never sought and never really listened to unless they were about the home or the kids.

Their territory as it were.

‘I like old Tyrell.’

Billy sounded sad for their friend.

They all nodded in agreement.

’A top bloke, and I think the sooner he gets to the bottom of all this the better off he’ll be. The Yanks call it closure.’

Everyone looked at Colin again and Terry said loudly and in a high camp voice, ‘Hark at fucking Miriam Stoppard over there.’

They were all laughing once more, but it was forced and the mood turned decidedly sombre. At the end of the day, the last thing they wanted to think about was the abortion that had passed for Sonny Boy’s life.

The thought of their own children’s futures frightened them now because Sonny had been given access to a good life by his father, and look what had happened to him. None of them wanted their boys ducking and diving, grafting for a living. They wanted them to be straight in more ways than one. And none of them wanted their daughters to marry men like themselves. They didn’t want them to have lives like their mothers had, constantly wondering where the old man was, would he be home, would he be nicked? Or what the women all saw as the biggest problem of all: who was he shagging?

They wanted far better for their kids or what the fuck was all the hard graft for?

 
Jude was starting to panic. Her brown was nearly all gone and Gino was nowhere to be seen. She’d thought he would have unloaded his mother by now, been kicked out of the house and ensconced in Jude’s flat for the duration.

If he didn’t show up soon then it meant she had to go out and earn a few quid herself and she didn’t like doing that. It wasn’t so much what she had to do for the money, it was the fact she had to get dressed up and actually leave the flat. Those days were long gone for Jude. She liked to be indoors, away from the world and out of her nut. It was the only way she could cope.

She would have to have a bath as well, and since Sonny had died the bath had hardly been in use. It stank. He had tidied up, washed sheets and done the mundane household stuff. As time had worn on it had been second nature to him. He liked being clean, would spend hours in the bathroom.

Jude also knew that with her bruises she would not be first call for any of the men at the market so all in all she was in a bind.

She couldn’t get any more gear through the sympathy vote after the turn out with Gino’s mother and she didn’t have anything to sell. Even Sonny’s portable was gone now as well as his CDs and his Walkman. She could ring up and get a house clearance firm to take his bed and wardrobe, but where would the wannabes sleep then?

She was not going to ask Tyrell for help, not for a good while anyway. Sonny’s other mates had given her a wide berth since she had introduced Gino to the brown so she was left with only one choice. She picked up Sonny’s mobile and rang the number she had got from Big Ellie. It went straight to answerphone and Jude turned the mobile off with shaking hands. What she was doing was dangerous, she knew, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She had no choice. Nick Leary owed her and this number could get her untold riches. He had a shock coming to him, she was determined on that much.

She would give it an hour and try once more.

In the meantime she would make her way to Verbena’s. She was always good for a tap when Jude was desperate.

Even if she did have to listen to her Bible-thumping to get it.

 
Sally watched her husband as he packed the last of his clothes into the large suitcase they usually kept for holidays. She could not believe that he was leaving her for good. But as she looked at his face she saw the determination there, and was sorry to realise that this actually was the end of their marriage. Once he walked out with that bag, she knew she would never be able to allow him back. Her pride would not permit that. She worried more about what people thought of her and her family than she did about her own happiness. She knew that Tyrell knew that as well and was using it against her and she couldn’t blame him, not really.

She was her mother’s daughter as he had pointed out many times over the years. It was being proved now because she would not ask him to stay. Inside she wanted to beg him not to go because she still loved him. But they both knew she was more worried about being seen as the deserted wife than anything else.

He looked at her with fresh eyes, and wondered how she had ever snared him. If it had not been for her his eldest son would have lived with him, but Sonny had always known he was not really welcome with Sally around.

It was as if she had been convinced he would taint her boys and maybe she was right. But the world tainted kids. They could come from the best homes and still smoke a bit of puff. Look at Prince Harry.

In the bedroom Tyrell could smell the lavender oil she sprayed on the pillows to aid restful sleep. He glanced at the tasteful pictures on the wall, and knew she was just holding back from straightening the bedspread because his case was on it, and it was rumpled.

Sally’s life had been so different from Jude’s. She always had everything under control and he had been attracted to that once. Now all he saw when he looked at her was the way she had never wanted his eldest boy messing up her home. It wasn’t really to do with the other boys, it was his chaotic life she couldn’t stand. If he had been a graduate he would have been welcomed with open arms. Sally was a snob, and the worst type of snob at that.

He only hoped his other sons achieved, because if they didn’t she would be the same with them. She was like her own mother in that way: saw her kids as a reflection of herself and worried constantly how other people perceived her.

But he was on to her now and he would make sure his other sons had a better start than poor Sonny Boy. He would see that they knew there was more to life than her constant harping about being the best. His boys would also have fun.

They even laughed quietly, he realised. Why had he never done anything about it before? Because Sally made sure that everyone danced to her tune. Well, it was over now. He was changing the record and they would all dance to whatever tune he decided in the future.

‘Can I get you a coffee?’

It was the nearest she would ever get to asking him to stay and they both knew it. If he accepted the coffee she would expect him to try and kiss her, maybe get her into bed. She would say no at first and eventually relent and then it would all be as it was before. He could see the pleading in her eyes.

‘Can’t. I’m meeting someone and I’m already late.’

His voice was dismissive and he knew he was hurting her but he was past caring. How many times had she spoken to Sonny Boy like that when he had phoned to speak to his brothers? She would cut him off mid-sentence, tell him they were in bed, studying, whatever, and Tyrell had let her. That was the worst of it,
he
had let her because he had not been man enough to tell her where to get off and leave the poor boy alone.

‘Well, don’t let me keep you then.’

He grinned.

‘You won’t. By the way, why didn’t you tell me Sonny had rung your mobile in Jamaica the night he died?’

He saw the shock on her face.

‘The police have your number down as one of his last calls. They spoke to you about it, I’m sure.’

‘It was a missed call . . . I told them that.’

But she had not told him and he wanted to get that fact over to her now. She was stuttering and he enjoyed her discomfort because he had waited to say this to her, waited for the right moment.

’According to the phone records the call lasted one minute and twenty seconds, so don’t talk your bollocks to me. You did what you always do, didn’t you, Sal? You fucked him off quickly because you couldn’t stand him interfering with your safe little life.’

She was shaking her head in denial.

‘You were all out . . .’

‘If I had spoken to him maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did. Maybe, just maybe, he was ringing for help or advice.’

She laughed now and said in a hard voice, ‘He wanted money. I said to wait till we got home. Did we still have to bankroll his mother’s addiction on holiday then?’

She was all self-righteous now.

He pushed his face close to hers and said through gritted teeth, ‘You’re a cunt, Sal! A nasty, vindictive and jealous cunt.’

It was the second time he had called a woman that in a few days. Tyrell closed his eyes and took a deep breath because for the second time he also had the urge to clump this woman so hard she would never get up again.

‘He wanted help, and knowing how you were with him he would not have rung you unless he was desperate.’

‘How was I to know what he was going to do?’

Tyrell wiped his nose. It was running and it took all his willpower not to break down in tears.

‘He was on the rent, Sal. That boy was flogging his arse for his mother, and I never knew because you made sure I never really had any time on me own with him.’

‘You couldn’t have got money to him from Jamaica.’

Her voice was dismissive once more. She had recovered herself and he had to admire her for that if for nothing else.

‘Oh, but you’re wrong. I could have got the money to him through friends. I had done it before.’

He saw the amazement on her face and it gave him a small sense of satisfaction. ‘You have never known the half of it, Sal, but you thought you did and that suited you. Well, I’m off. As I said, I have people to see, things to do.’

He dragged the heavy case off the bed and the silk throw fell to the ground. He knew she was itching to pick it up and make it all look neat once more. As he carried the case out of the bedroom he saw his boys and realised they had heard everything that had been said. But he couldn’t do anything or say anything about it because he was crying. He was crying for his dead boy. These two were alive and well looked after, he knew. He was going to have to sort his head out before he spoke to them about this.

The revelations of the last few days had destroyed him. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to mend himself properly. All he did know was that if he didn’t leave this house now he would explode.

The handsome boys gazed at him with their big eyes and he dropped the case. Taking them both in his arms, Tyrell hugged them to him. Then, picking up the case again, he walked precariously down the narrow staircase. As he went out of the front door he could hear them both calling out to him, but he shut the door and walked away as quickly as he could.

He would deal with them later when he could talk properly and explain the situation with their mother as best he could. Now, though, he was aware he had to save himself and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Inside his car he lit up a joint and toked on it deeply before he made his way back to his flat and his meeting with Louis Clarke.

Chapter Fifteen

Jude was looking out of the window and trying to calm her nerves. The number she’d tried was still not responding and she was getting more nervous every time she rang it. But: ‘Needs must when the devil drives,’ and as her devil drove her constantly, she knew she had to see it through to the bitter end.

‘The Lord will help you, Jude, if you ask him to.’

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

‘The Lord couldn’t give a fuck about me and you know it, Verbena.’

The other woman wasn’t shocked by the words, she expected them now. But she hoped and prayed that one day Jude would see the light and give herself over to Him.

‘You’re wrong, girl. Now put that phone away and talk to me properly.’

Jude was wired, really sweating, and it wasn’t just the need for drugs, it was nervous sweat as well. She could smell herself and for a split second felt a wave of shame. Glancing at herself in the large gilt mirror over the fireplace, she saw a bedraggled woman with dark roots and bloodshot eyes. The reflection depressed her. Jude hated seeing what she was because it pushed home to her the fact that this was it now until she died. Another wave of self-pity swept over her, mingled with self-loathing and the utter need for oblivion.