by Jacqui Rose
Vaughn gave a tight smile but didn’t say anything, not wanting to get involved.
‘You see that, Tia, Vaughn’s too polite to say what a noisy cunt you’ve been.’
Tia stared at her husband wondering quite how she had so many tears. Harry was intolerable and she could see that he was enjoying tormenting her. She had a banging headache and the only thing that had got her through the journey was the thought of seeing her children. She was looking forward to getting out of the car and having a nice, long bath.
‘Will you turn it in, Harry? Stop digging me out. You’ve made your point, so can you drop it?’
Roaring with laughter, Harry opened the car door after Vaughn pulled up outside the last house in the row. ‘Drop it? Tia, after what you’ve done, I ain’t even started, darlin’.’
He slammed out of the car and stalked towards the house with the pale pink front door as Tia wearily stepped out of the car. Though as she did, she quickly glanced across to Harry to make sure he wasn’t looking as she spoke in a whisper to Vaughn. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Vaughn stared ahead, not wanting Harry to see them talking. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’
‘You had every choice!’
With his cheeks flushing with anger, Vaughn hissed, ‘If I did, do you really think that I’d come here?’
‘I dunno, Vaughn. I don’t know what you’d do.’
‘I was desperate.’
Grabbing her cream Prada bag, Tia snapped, ‘Yeah, well we’ve all been that. It don’t mean you needed to come here.’
With his anger getting the better of him, Vaughn swivelled around. ‘If I hadn’t, I would’ve been a dead man by now.’
‘Well, it’s a shame you’re not.’
‘Everything all right? She ain’t chewing your ear off is she mate?’ Harry’s voice boomed out from the doorway of the house.
‘No, it’s fine. She just thought she’d dropped her phone!’ Vaughn called back.
‘Dozy fucking cow. Just leave her to it. Come and have a drink!’
Ignoring Harry’s insults, Tia shook her head. She’d known that Vaughn had been in trouble, big trouble, but she never guessed that he would actually come and work with Harry. Leaning towards Vaughn, she hissed her words. ‘I want you gone. Understand? But in the meantime, stay away from me, Vaughn. Don’t talk to me. I don’t want anything to do with you. You hear me? Just stay away from me.’ And with that Tia Jacobs rushed into the house, crying again.
Tia’s hand reached for the bathroom door just as it was abruptly swung open by a strikingly beautiful woman. Tammy Owens. It always amazed Tia how even though it was her house, with her children in it, over the past year or so it was Tammy opening the door from the inside, whilst she stood waiting to be let in, very much from the outside.
‘Tia! Welcome home!’ Tammy purred as she threw her arms over Tia pulling her into a steely embrace.
‘Let me look at you. When Harry said you might be coming home, I couldn’t believe it. Now we’ll be able to catch up on all that girly gossip – it’ll be like old times again. But first things first, we simply have to get you out of that hideous dress. You look like a tramp, darlin’.’
Tammy trilled with laughter, exuding the coldness that seemed always to be in her heart from her eyes. As Tia politely tried to free herself from Tammy’s suffocating grip, it crossed her mind that for as long as she could remember, Tammy had always been a bitch. A bitch if she didn’t get something, a bitch if she did.
They’d been close once, really close, and she would’ve done anything for her but Tammy had never acted like the same could be said of her. Tammy was selfish and so often mean, but Tia had always made some excuse for her behaviour.
But the real breaking point between the two of them had come last year when Tia’s youngest child, Lily, who’d only just turned six, had been rushed into hospital after falling off a slide and smashing her head.
It had been touch and go for a while and the surgeons had had to rush her into surgery. She’d tried to get in contact with Harry and she’d tried to get in contact with Tammy but she hadn’t been able to get in touch with either.
After a long, difficult night waiting to see if Lily would pull through, she’d come home exhausted from the hospital to get a fresh change of clothes, riding in the back of a filthy mini-cab.
She’d walked into the front room and what greeted her was a pair of size-eight La Perla knickers on the floor and a semi-clad Tammy entwined in her husband’s arms. When they’d seen her standing there, Tammy had just lit a cigarette and told her how tired she looked.
And now, as Tammy stood smiling at her, Tia just shook her head. Rather than feeling anger towards her, Tia pitied her, because she was a fool if she thought that having Harry Jacobs would bring her any sort of pleasure. She knew well enough that Harry destroyed everything he came into contact with, and soon enough he’d destroy Tammy too. Yes, Tammy Owens, her twin sister, had a lot to learn.
4
‘Where we going?’ Sasha said sullenly as she looked at Wan from under her dark fringe. Immediately annoyed by the question, Wan grabbed her face, squeezing it hard so he could feel her jawbone pressing into his fingers.
He was already pissed off by what had happened to Sophie. A girl OD’ing was a pain, to say the least. Getting rid of a body was even more of one, and that wasn’t even taking into account the fact they’d be a girl down now.
Still, like his brother and his father had always taught him, these girls were supposed to be disposable. Easy come, easy go. There’d always be another girl around the corner after all.
Faceless girls that nobody cared about. Runaways. Girls that no one would come looking for. Girls who’d been kicked out of their homes, girls who’d just come out of care. But the best kind of girls were the ones who’d already been abused so what he was asking of them, well, it had already become second nature to them. Oh yes, these girls were head and shoulders above the rest.
But that still didn’t stop him from being irritated by the fact that Sophie had accidentally topped herself. Although she was new, the punters had clearly liked her. She was part of the latter group. Abused and unwanted, which had made it straightforward for him. A few kind words, a little bit of attention, a roof over her head and that had been basically it. It was all he’d needed to do to make her willing, willing to do whatever it was that was asked of her as long as she’d been fed some cocaine, which she’d taken to like a duck to water.
It was always helpful when they liked the taste of powder and the pills. Sophie couldn’t get enough of it – clearly in hindsight too much of it. Unlike some of the girls who seemed to think that when he gave it to them he was trying to give them arsenic, Sophie had nostrilled it up like there was no tomorrow.
It was important that when he needed the girls to work for him they were high. That way they were loose, they didn’t become frigid and tighten up, especially when they were being passed around a party. The last thing he needed was an uptight little bitch. It was bad for business. Plus, it helped them forget. The less they remembered, the better.
Though what he didn’t like was the fact that Sophie had been the second girl recently who’d overdosed, and as much as they were disposable, he didn’t want them falling like flies. More to the point, he was worried that the cocaine was too high a grade, too pure, though he’d been assured it wasn’t, or that it was bad shit. The last thing he needed was to be letting the girls take what ironically was lines of arsenic.
Turning his thoughts back to Sasha, Wan growled, ‘Don’t question me. When I say we’re going somewhere, that’s all you need to know. You understand?’
Sasha, dressed in a skimpy white dress that skirted her pert bottom, nodded as she stared glassy-eyed at Wan.
‘Good. Now get in the van,’ said Wan as he stood surrounded by two of his henchmen in the private car park of his restaurant.
In the back of the blacked-out van, there were already two other
girls sitting, spaced out on mats on the floor. Seeing Sasha hesitate, he gripped her arm, dragging her towards it. ‘Get the fuck in. I haven’t got time for this.’
‘I … I … I just don’t want to go after last time.’
Wan lunged for her, pulling her hair and twisting it around in his hand, causing her to let out a screech. He stared at her, his face inches away from hers. ‘No one asked you to be here, Sasha. You’re here of your own free will, remember that.’
‘I know, I just don’t like it, that’s all. I don’t like the parties. The men, they smell and, well, they’re old.’
He continued to glare at her as he let go of her hair. ‘You’re not marrying them, so what’s the problem?’
Sasha, who was barely five foot tall but tottering on high heels, looked up at Wan with tears in her eyes. ‘I just—’
He interrupted, his cockney accent sounding stronger than normal. ‘Do I put a roof over your head, Sash? Do I feed you? Let you eat in my restaurants anytime you like? Order anything you want? Do I give you money to go out and about? To shop, to get your nails done? Even get your fucking hair extensions done?’
‘Yeah.’
He took her face in his hands again, only this time, he stroked it gently. ‘Well then, what’s the sour look for? All I ask in return, is a few favours here and there. That’s all, and that’s not too much to ask, is it? My girlfriend doing me a favour … Tell me, Sash, who’s treated you better than me?’
Sasha’s green eyes stared up at him mesmerisingly. ‘No one, Wan.’
‘Exactly. No one. You’ve never had a better boyfriend than me, even your mum didn’t want to know you, but I do, Sash. I want you but if you want, you can go back to where you came from. How about that, Sasha? Would that make you happy? You want to go back on the streets? I can take you there. I can take you back to the place I found you. Just say the word … Actually, let’s just cut to the chase and why don’t I take you back now? Save either of us any more heartache.’ He began to pull her towards the gate.
‘No, please! Please! I don’t want to go back. Please, Wan! I’m sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘But I don’t think you are. I think it’d be better if you just went. No hard feelings, hey?’
‘Please, please, don’t make me go. I want to stay with you. I’ll do it, I’ll go to the party, and I won’t complain, I swear. Give me another chance.’
‘I’m all out of chances, Sash.’
Hysterical now, Sasha continued to beg. ‘Please, please—’
‘What’s going on here?’ Franny, her chestnut hair tied up into a ponytail, walked into the car park from the back entrance of the restaurant.
On seeing Franny, Wan dropped hold of Sasha who stood weeping quietly to herself. ‘Go away, Franny, this is nothing to do with you. Just a boyfriend–girlfriend thing.’
Franny raised her eyebrows at the same time as hardening her gaze. She glanced at Sasha who looked distraught. ‘Sash, sweetheart, are you all right? I’ve been thinking about you. I was worried.’
‘I said this is nothing to do with you, so why don’t you turn around and go and find something else to do,’ Wan said.
Franny didn’t move, instead she just stared at Sasha, seeing the dark circles under her eyes, and bringing down her voice, she spoke gently. ‘Please, Sasha, talk to me.’
Standing under the grey London sky, tears came to Sasha’s eyes and she opened her mouth to say something but it was Wan who spoke first as he turned to look at Sasha. ‘Get in the fucking van … Now!’
Without hesitation, Sasha ran and stepped into the Ford transit, leaving Wan to stare at Franny with as much contempt as he could muster. His words snarled out as he pushed her hard in her chest, causing her to take a step back to hold her balance. ‘Don’t ever do that to me again. You hear me? You’re overstepping the line these days. First back in the club and now this.’
Not showing the slightest hint of being intimidated, Franny, standing as tall as Wan, returned his stare and his contempt. ‘All I was doing was asking how she was.’
‘And I’m telling you, not to.’
‘It was only a few hours ago that she watched her friend overdose. What the fuck is wrong with you? The girl’s traumatised,’ said Franny angrily.
Wan held a steady glare. ‘Haven’t you heard the saying, the show must go on?’
Barking out her words and feeling so much hatred towards Wan, Franny shook her head. ‘This ain’t a show though. You can’t expect her to be okay. She’s just a kid and that was her friend, Wan. She watched her friend die after your goon wouldn’t even let her call for the ambulance.’
He shrugged. ‘What can I say?’
Rolling her tongue around her mouth, Franny chuckled nastily. ‘You really are something else. So what should I do, not bother when one of the girls is upset? Not bother when it’s clear that Sasha’s in shock?’
‘That’s exactly right.’
Nodding, Franny felt the surge of anger rush through her. Everything in her wanted to take her gun and shove it down his throat. But instead, she stayed still for a moment, not speaking, not moving, making sure that she was in control of her emotions before she did say anything.
Eventually, with an even tone, she asked, ‘So where are you guys off to, anyway?’
Without warning, Wan slammed his hand around Franny’s throat. ‘Don’t. Ask. Questions.’
Then Wan stomped off towards the van, getting in it before speeding away.
Rubbing her neck, Franny closed her eyes for a moment. Anger, not pain, rushed through her veins. Yes, she’d paid for protection against Harry and Vaughn and yes, she’d had to hand over her shares to Wan and do any bit of dirty work he asked of her, but how long she could put up with it, she didn’t know. If she was going to do anything about it, she needed help.
Pulling out her phone, Franny dialled the ever-familiar number and spoke to the ever-familiar voicemail. ‘Alf, hey, Alfie, it’s me. Call me back. Please. We need to talk. I need to talk.’
Putting the phone back in her pocket, Franny decided that although she’d made some stupid mistakes in her life, none were as stupid as allowing Wan to make an enemy of her.
5
Standing in the bedroom of his friend’s large, luxurious flat situated on the banks of the River Thames, with stunning views of both Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, Alfie Jennings listened to the message from his on-off lover Franny Doyle and, as was his habit, he threw his mobile across the room. The phone crashed against the wall where it fell on the bed, waking up the hooker he’d had his friend send over to him last night.
‘Bloody hell, Alf, what happened to a gentle wake-up kiss?’
‘What happened to a silent whore?’
The hooker, who’d known Alfie for the past ten years, shrugged, clearly not taking offence. ‘What’s ruffled your feathers this morning?’ she said laughing. ‘And for your information, if you want me to keep my mouth shut, it’ll cost you another fifty quid.’
He rolled his eyes at her. ‘Do me a favour, Jan, just shut the fuck up. I’m happy to pay you a bull’s-eye for some peace.’
He sighed and broke open the new bottle of whiskey, pouring it generously into a crystal glass.
‘Alfie, why don’t you come and take some lines with me, relax a little.’
He turned around and stared at Jan. ‘I thought you were going to shut your mouth.’
She shrugged and giggled. ‘You never used to be such a grouch. Come on, let’s have some fun.’
Alfie stared at the cut-up lines of cocaine on the cream Ralph Lauren nightstand. He could almost taste it, almost feel the burn in his nose, and he could almost hear it calling his name. After the last couple of years of indulging to excess, he was trying to knock it on the head. Or at least cut down on it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted and it certainly didn’t help his cause that Jan was noisily snorting it up.
‘Drop me out, Jan, and if I were you and wanted to get paid at all, I’d
stop chewing my fucking ear off.’ And with that, Alfie shot one last angry glance at the lines of coke, took a huge swig of whiskey and stepped outside onto the balcony, feeling the drips of water run down his handsome face from where he hadn’t bothered to dry his hair after his shower.
With the cold air somewhat taking away the urge to snort some gear, absentmindedly watching a tugboat on the river, Alfie thought of Franny. In actual fact, she was the only thing he could think of. No matter what he did – even when he was getting his dick sucked by some whore or having a threesome – Franny was the only thing on his mind. And since he’d met her all those years ago, it had always been the same.
In the messages she’d left for him, he could hear the tone in her voice and he knew her well enough to realise that she was struggling. What with, exactly, he wasn’t sure, though from a good source he knew she was somehow caught up with Wan. But he was damned if he was going to come running, playing a knight in shining armour. After all, she had fucked him over. She had fucked everyone over, come to think of it.
Franny had not only set Vaughn up, she had set him up by giving him no alternative than to do her dirty work.
Last year his daughter, Mia, had been kidnapped and he and Franny had gone looking for her and it had taken them down a very dark road. He’d thought that Mia had been taken by a paedophile ring and whilst they’d been searching, they’d come across a little boy who was about to be auctioned off to the worst kind of human beings. Worse still, the boy’s own father had been part of the sale.
And of course, once he knew about the boy there’d been no way he could’ve left the kid; he could never have that on his conscience. But he’d also known the sort of money that the boy was going for, being young and innocent – fresh meat, as they called it – was the sort of money he didn’t have to hand. His business hadn’t been doing great, especially after Franny had taken two million quid of his money. Though he knew that was another story entirely, one he didn’t want to think about now.