by Emma Tallon
She’d sat there in that hallway until her back ached and her legs cramped from the unusual position. It was only the incessant ringing of her phone that had finally forced her to move, rather awkwardly, back into the kitchen. The calls had been from Freddie, seven of them missed and the eighth just coming through as she reached it. He’d wanted to come over to see her, but she had made excuses. The last thing she had wanted yesterday was to see her eldest son. In the state she had been in he would have seen straight through whatever lies she told. She needed to figure out what she was going to do first, before she could face him.
As Mollie contemplated getting into the shower to try and force away some of the cobwebs still lingering from her sleepless night, a car pulled up in front of the house. She closed her eyes in distress. It was Freddie’s. He obviously had no intention of giving up on his mission of talking to her face to face. She should have expected it, really. He was like a dog with a bone once he had his mind set on something. For a few seconds she wondered whether she should just jump in the shower anyway and hope something more pressing would call him away before she got out, but even as she considered it, she knew there was no point. Freddie would just wait her out or come straight back later. Tiredly she sighed and placed the one-eyed teddy of Thea’s she’d been holding back in its place on the bed and walked downstairs to greet her son.
Freddie let himself in the front door at the same time she reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘Alright Mum?’ he asked, his hazel green eyes searching her face keenly.
‘Alright, Freddie? What are you doing here so early?’ she replied, tightening her dressing gown and shuffling through to the large kitchen at the back of the house.
Freddie followed her and sat down at the kitchen table, whilst Mollie began working the coffee machine on autopilot. ‘Woke up early, had a bit of time on my hands. Thought I’d come and have breakfast with me old mum, that’s all.’
‘Less of the old, thank you,’ she promptly retorted.
‘Paul not up yet?’
‘Just heard him stir a few minutes ago, so he should be down soon.’ Mollie pulled three mugs out of the cupboard and placed them on the side as the coffee began to boil. She’d heard Paul come in during the early hours as usual, as she’d lain awake in her bed staring at the ceiling in the dark.
Freddie watched his mother as she moved around the kitchen putting bread in the toaster and pulling out all the breakfast things. She always liked to be on the move, never liking to be still, but her busy movements were more jerky today, more irritated. He could see the strain in her jaw and knew that this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. Whatever was bothering her since he had mentioned Jim, she clearly didn’t want to talk about it. But he was going to try and make her, all the same. He decided to cut straight to the point.
‘Mum, what’s going on with you? You looked like you’d seen a ghost when I mentioned Jim to you a couple of days ago. What’s all that about?’ He sat back and waited, his gaze never leaving the side of her face as she rolled her eyes and turned away.
‘Oh, leave it out, would you, Freddie?’ she said, her tone irritable. ‘I’ve told you already, I just remember him being bad news, that’s all.’
‘OK, give me an example of why,’ Freddie said, holding his arms out beseechingly.
‘I don’t remember why, OK?’ Mollie snapped. ‘It was a bloody long time ago and my memory ain’t exactly what it was. All I remember is he was bad news and that he weren’t liked. That’s all.’
Freddie tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully, as she turned her back with a huff and carried on with breakfast. ‘You’re lying to me, Mum,’ he said eventually. ‘I just can’t figure out why.’
Mollie swung around to face him, frustrated anger flashing behind her eyes. ‘Excuse me?’ she exclaimed. ‘Well, that’s nice, ain’t it? My eldest son dropping into my house, to my kitchen, just to accuse me of being a bleeding liar.’ Her voice rose hotly with every word as her guilt and stress bubbled over. ‘Lovely. Thank you very much.’
Paul appeared at the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes and shooting a look of confusion towards Freddie as he walked straight into their mother seemingly losing the plot.
‘What a slap in the face. Well, I’ll tell you what…’ Mollie turned around and slammed the frying pan she had been about to add bacon to into the sink with a loud clang. ‘You want breakfast somewhere you can insult the chef and get away with it, take yourself down the damn café.’
With one last glare at Freddie, she stomped past Paul, up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
‘What the hell was that about?’ Paul asked, his jaw dropping. He’d only been awake ten minutes and somehow in that short space of time World War Three had managed to break out in his kitchen.
‘Jim Martin.’
‘What is it about that guy?’ Paul asked.
‘I have no idea,’ Freddie replied grimly. ‘But whatever it is she’s hell bent on hiding it.’
Paul turned to stare after his mother, completely stunned. He could count on one hand the times he had seen her lose her temper like that, and most of those had been when they had been outrageous teenagers asking for it. It just didn’t happen like that these days. Something was getting to her about Jim Martin. Something very big indeed.
Thirty-Four
Mollie sat on the bed upstairs and forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly until she calmed down. She felt terrible. Terrible for hiding things from Freddie, terrible for screaming at him to distract from the real issue and terrible because she knew she had to deal with Jim and get him away from her family once and for all. But how was she going to do that?
Angrily wiping away the tears of self-pity that had begun to fall, Mollie thought about Jim’s demands once more. He wanted five hundred thousand pounds up front. Then a monthly payment, though he hadn’t said how much he expected that to be. There was no other choice, she was going to have to pay it. It was the only way to protect her family from the fall-out. It was the only way to protect herself from it too, she finally admitted. She couldn’t bear to think of how Freddie would look at her if he knew what had happened all those years ago. He would never see her the same way again. She just couldn’t allow that to happen.
The problem was, Mollie didn’t have access to that sort of money. She had savings for things like Christmases and birthdays, of course, from the allowance Freddie so generously paid into her account every month. He looked after her financially, had done for years. It was a family business, he always said. She had done her part bringing them up and working all her life, now it was time she benefitted from him doing his part, he insisted. But despite what he sent her being a very comfortable income, it was certainly not going to give her access to half a million pounds in a week.
Thinking over what assets she had, she shook her head helplessly. There wasn’t anything that would bring her even close to what she needed. Mollie wasn’t a flashy person, she didn’t own much jewellery. A few pieces her children had bought her as gifts were worth something, but not at that level. And besides, they held more sentimental value than anything else. She couldn’t bear to part with them. The furniture in the house was decent quality, but again, this wouldn’t raise much second-hand. She leaned forward and placed her face in her hands in despair. What was she going to do?
The memory of Jim looking around her house with a calculating sneer popped back into her mind and she sat up.
The house.
Freddie had bought it for her outright. Their local bank manager had gone through all the paperwork with them, moving the house into her name. Freddie had said it was to protect her, should anything ever happen to him or if his assets ever got seized. She wasn’t sure of the exact value, but it was a large house in a nice area in London. Surely that could be worth half a million at least?
She sniffed, a sudden ray of hope shining through the darkness that had been looming over her. If she could remortgage the hous
e and get the money that way, Freddie need never be any the wiser. She wasn’t that old, still of an age where a mortgage application should be accepted. And although she didn’t work, she could prove she had a regular income from Freddie, a very comfortable one. She was sure she’d be able to cover the repayments. Standing up, Mollie pulled off her dressing gown and threw it on the bed before pulling open her drawers.
She was going to get dressed, wait for her sons to leave the house and then go down to talk to the bank manager about her options. It was a loss, but it was just money. Family would always be more important than that. Sniffing again, Mollie forced a brighter expression onto her face. It was all going to be OK.
Thirty-Five
Jim stared through the gates that fronted the large family home and whistled in appreciation. The house itself was set back beyond a large drive, which housed three very uneconomical-looking cars. The double front door was set between two wide windows which stretched along the ample length of the property, and cameras seemed to be dotted everywhere, covering every square inch. Clearly, Sophia’s husband hadn’t done too badly for himself.
He’d heard tales of Aleksei and of course had picked up that he was dead, after eavesdropping on Sophia and Freddie’s conversation. But that and the fact he had been a Russian mobster was all he really knew for sure so far. He was curious to find out exactly what Sophia wanted from him.
A buzz sounded and the gates pulled back, allowing him entrance. He nipped through the gap as soon as it was wide enough and walked to the front door which was immediately opened by Ali, the man Sophia kept around as her personal bodyguard.
‘Alright, me ol’ mucker?’ Jim greeted him cheerily.
He was met with a stony expression and a sullen response. ‘Through there.’ Ali pointed to a large, bright front room. It looked formal, probably not the one the family relaxed in.
‘Oh. Cheers.’ Jim wandered through and pushed his hands down into his jeans pockets as he awkwardly hovered. He considered sitting down but eyeing the pristine cream sofas he decided not to. He wasn’t used to being somewhere this plush. It made him feel out of place.
The sharp taps of Sophia’s heels rang through from the hall and he turned to greet her. She swept into the room, again looking as though she’d stepped straight out of the front page of a magazine, dressed in an elegant floating cream trouser suit.
‘Jim,’ she said with a tight smile. ‘I was glad to receive your call.’
‘Well, you know.’ Jim shrugged. ‘Only a fool turns his back when opportunity knocks.’
‘Indeed.’ Sophia beckoned him to follow her. ‘Come with me. We will be more comfortable talking in here.’ She disappeared and Jim quickly followed her out across the hall into a room on the opposite side.
The plush carpet was darker in here, to match with the dark wooden furniture that adorned the comfortable home office. Sophia took a seat behind the desk and Jim sat opposite, waiting to hear what she had to say.
‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, go on then. Couldn’t say no to a tipple with a gorgeous girl like yourself,’ he replied cheerily.
Sophia regarded him across the table. He was an imbecile, that much was clear. The goofy smile on his face – as though being here was some sort of treat – was already getting on her nerves. If one of her own men acted as he did, she would slap them hard around the face and remind them who they were working for. But he was not one of her men and he was potentially of great use, so she would tolerate him for now.
Opening the bottom desk drawer, Sophia rummaged around and pulled out two tumblers followed by a bottle of vodka. She eyed the label and forced an expression of grudging appreciation.
‘He may not have had good taste in much else, but with vodka he knew what he was doing,’ she said, pouring out two generous measures and handing one over to Jim.
Jim took it with a nod of thanks. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’d say your husband had pretty good taste by the looks of this place. He definitely had good taste in women, at any rate.’ He gave a wink to accompany his compliment, but Sophia’s face remained unsmiling. She stared at him icily and Jim began to wonder if he should have just stayed quiet.
‘This house was selected and furnished by me, without any input from my husband at all. And as for his taste in women, Aleksei was just one day away from moving me out of this home I created with my own two hands and sending me and my children away to Estonia, so that he could move his whore in to play queen of the castle. But then he died. So…’ She pulled a cold half smile. ‘Here we are.’ Picking up her glass, she tipped it back and drank the clear liquid within.
‘Oh.’ For the first time since he could remember, Jim was lost for words. ‘Jeez.’ He blew out his cheeks on a long breath. ‘So, no taste then, clearly.’
‘Well,’ Sophia topped her drink up, ‘like I said, he knew his vodka.’
Jim frowned. ‘So, his death was a good thing then, for you?’ He found himself wondering if Sophia had been the cause of her husband’s demise. She seemed more than capable, from what he had surmised so far.
Sophia seemed to consider it for a moment before she answered. ‘I wouldn’t say a good thing, no.’ Her expression softened slightly and she looked down into her drink with a sad smile. ‘I was unhappy with this new arrangement, of course. But I had known about Aleksei’s preferences for a long time. There was no heartbreak, we had lived as friends for years.’ Her eyes wandered to a small frame to the side of the desk. It was a picture of the four of them together, her, Aleksei and their two boys. ‘We were close friends and I advised on business matters, behind closed doors. In many ways he was a very good husband. He was also the father of my children and for that I will always love him. So, whilst yes, it saved me having to leave this home, no, it was not something I would have wanted. Not for Aleksei.’ She stared at the picture for a few more moments before turning back to Jim, her expression hardening. ‘What his death did mean for us, though, was a sudden lack of security. Without the income from his businesses we cannot live like this forever. Which means the people who killed my husband also put my family at risk of poverty.’ Her brown eyes flashed darkly. ‘And that is something I will not have. Not now, not ever. We have not come this far to see ourselves downtrodden.’ She lifted her head defiantly.
‘So, what are you thinking?’ Jim asked, not really sure what any of this had to do with him.
‘What I am thinking, Jim, is this.’ Sophia reached into a small box on the desk and pulled out a slim cigarette. She offered one to Jim, who declined. ‘I need the gun-running operation back up and working smoothly. You know of my plans to partner with the Tylers already.’ Jim nodded. ‘Well, I need that to go ahead. Most of Aleksei’s men scattered when he disappeared, leaving me without the manpower I need to carry it out. I need Freddie’s men to work with me, to become loyal to me, to believe my loyalties have switched towards them.’
‘Right.’ Jim shrugged.
‘But privately my loyalties are still the same. I need to finish what Aleksei started and take Freddie and Paul out of the equation altogether.’ She lit her cigarette.
‘What?’ Jim asked, surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation.
Sophia’s level gaze bored into his. ‘I realise that this may seem shocking to you. You might wonder why I would even say this to someone on their payroll. But you are not that loyal, I don’t think.’
‘Hey!’ Jim sat up straight at the insult and his brow furrowed in annoyance.
‘Don’t take it the wrong way,’ Sophia continued. She pushed his untouched glass of vodka towards him. ‘I just had my man Ali do a little research on you. You are new to the firm. Not their usual type of recruit and not someone who has had dealings with them before.’ She sat back and tilted her head to one side. ‘You have no family, no proper home, no life to speak of after you recently left jail. I believe you are just looking for the right opportunity. I think that you are not so much loyal to the
Tylers as loyal to the right employer, when you find them. And that is why I am telling you this. Because I have an offer for you. A real offer.’ Putting her cigarette to her lips she took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke high into the air.
Jim picked up the glass and drank from it, feeling the smooth burn of the vodka slide down his throat. This conversation had become very serious very quickly and he wasn’t sure whether he was going to like what Sophia was going to ask of him next. ‘Go on then,’ he said.
‘The Tylers have you on the lower end of their payroll, running errands for them. They don’t trust you. Or at least, they have not given you any responsibilities that would indicate that they do. They are just keeping you on a leash.’ She watched as Jim’s neck flushed pink and he cast his gaze away. ‘That is not an employer who values you.’ Leaning forward, Sophia filled Jim’s glass back up. ‘I am going to take the Tylers down one way or another. I’m in no rush, I can bide my time if needs be. But I’d rather not. I would rather have someone on my payroll working with me on the inside, who can help me get the job done quickly.’
‘What would you want me to do?’ Jim asked, in trepidation.
‘I want you to get me information that will help me achieve this end goal. Assist me in the set-up.’ She saw the worry fluttering across his face. ‘You would not be expected to do it yourself,’ she added. ‘I do not expect that you are a killer.’ The worry began to lessen. ‘I just need a plan. And I think if you think hard enough, you can help me come up with that plan, with the knowledge you have of the Tylers, their businesses and personal lives. In return, I will put you on my payroll, starting on double what the Tylers currently pay you. You will work for me, ongoing, and if you manage to give me something valuable enough to pull this off well, I will reward you with a percentage of the gun-running profits.’ She sat back and crossed her legs.
Jim swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. This was a huge step up for him and the small demon of greed inside him began to feel excited as he calculated how much money he’d be raking in if he took Sophia up on this. But then again, if he did join Sophia, this could all come crashing down around his ears once word got out. He’d been down that road once before and he wasn’t sure whether he was more terrified of the idea of doing time again or of being on the wrong side of one of the most violent firms in London.