The Choice

by KERRY BARNES

  Hesitating, she said, ‘And this is all above board?’

  Brandon gave her his most ingratiating smile and handed her a pen. ‘Just sign there and there.’ He pointed to the crosses in pencil.

  Eagerly, she signed her name, and then he produced more papers. ‘And this, too. I must say, this is most generous of your father. He seemed to me to be a very decent man,’ said Brandon.

  ‘Is he all right?’

  Brandon nodded. ‘Of course he is. He said he wanted to make sure you were taken care of.’

  She scribbled her name again.

  Brandon’s smile almost reached his eyes. ‘Now, I just need you to sign here to say I have witnessed it and then we’re done.’

  The formal business concluded, Shelley stood up, and in her tight blue dress, she started to walk away, wiggling her arse, no doubt trying to impress Brandon. She turned before she reached the door and gave them her sexiest smile. ‘Right, Nicolas, I think I’d best be off to buy some new clothes if I’m to be the boss now.’

  Nicolas, now sitting on the edge of the sofa, grinned up at her. ‘You do that, babe, and why don’t ya have a nice weekend at the spa as well. Let’s face it, you’re a rich woman now.’

  Her face flushed with excitement, she skipped out of the room and went back up the stairs.

  Brandon put his hands up to high-five his client. ‘All done, Nicolas. She is now the proud owner of a development site in Spain that has no building plans. It was one of Crawford’s dead-in-the-water ideas. Aah well, she doesn’t look like the hard hat and high-vis jacket type anyway.’

  Nicolas laughed and patted Brandon’s back. ‘Oh yeah, but at least she will be out of my hair, along with that kid of hers. Er, that confession note she signed a couple of weeks ago. Is that all above board? I don’t want her going off on one and shouting her mouth off.’

  Brandon winked. ‘Yes, I have a copy, and so does she, but my advice is you need to give her a reminder just so it sticks in the forefront of her mind.’

  Nicolas laughed. ‘Oh yeah, how did it go with Lucas? I was making the coffee. Did he sign everything?’

  Brandon winked. ‘He is one daft sod. He must take after his mother and not Willie, because I told him that there was no need to bother reading it as it was all legal jargon, which would take forever. In essence, as soon as I told him that he now owns half of his grandfather’s estate, he just signed every paper I put in front of him. I have left him signed copies, and when he finally works out what’s happened, he won’t have a leg to stand on, and if he wants to go to the police, then he’ll face being locked up. So that’s all been tidied up nicely.’

  ‘I must remember that if I ever have to sign anything that you shove under my nose, I read every bleedin’ word. Staffie told me that you did the same thing to Jackie. How d’ya do it, Brandon?’

  With a cheeky grin and a wink, Brandon replied, ‘It’s all about charm and who can be charmed. The likes of Jackie and Shelley, and even Lucas, are so full of themselves that they simply can’t see beyond what they can gain, so you just use it your own advantage.’ He laughed. ‘Honestly, does this face look as if it could lie?’

  Fascinated, Nicolas took a good look and had to agree. Brandon’s boyish looks and the twinkle in his eye could charm the eyes off a rattlesnake.

  As Nicolas walked him to the door, he could hear the gunfire and bombs going off from the video games console. He shook his head. ‘That boy won’t even leave his bedroom unless he wants food or a piss.’

  After he’d seen Brandon into his car and leave the property, he saw another car pulling into the drive. Inside were two lads; it didn’t take a genius to work out who they were.

  Liam stepped out of the car first, followed by Arty. They waved to Nicolas while heading his way.

  ‘Cor, blimey, Liam, if you ain’t your father’s double, and you, Arty, cor, you’ve grown a lot since I last saw ya. Give us a hug, boys.’

  Arty embraced his great uncle and stepped back, allowing Liam to follow suit. ‘Er, Liam wants to meet his brother.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Me, I’d fuck him off, but this ol’ softy won’t have none of it.’

  Liam looked at Arty. ‘You’re just jealous, Art.’

  Arty tutted and shook his head. ‘Uncle Nick, is it okay if we meet this prune?’

  Nicolas stepped back. ‘Come in. He’s upstairs on that space station thingy.’

  Liam laughed. ‘Ya mean PlayStation.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he should’ve grown out of it by now.’ He looked the boys up and down; they were a far cry from Lucas. Arty was smartly dressed in a cashmere roll-neck jumper and a dark-grey fitted blazer, and his hair was gelled back. Liam was slimmer, but, still, he carried off his own style, and Nicolas had to give it to him – he did look smart in a beanie hat, polo-neck jumper, and a long overcoat. He smiled; if only he were thirty years younger.

  ‘Go on, then. Surprise the lazy fucker.’

  Liam was first up the stairs, heading for the sound of gunfire. He was about to knock at the door but decided he would just walk straight in. Arty was on his heels, and as they closed the door behind them, they heard Shelley shout out, ‘See you later, Lucas. Don’t forget to take your tablets!’

  So engrossed in his game, Lucas didn’t see or hear the lads come into his room.

  Liam stared at the lad who was supposed to be his spitting image, but what he assumed he would feel once he’d come face-to-face with him didn’t happen. He felt nothing, no sudden affection, not even the long-lost brother sensation of completeness. Unexpectedly, watching Lucas’s angry face as he shot the Germans on the screen, he had the urge to leave.

  It was Arty who spoke first. ‘Oi, d’ya wanna turn that thing off?’

  Lucas slowly turned his head to the side to find two big fierce-looking young men, one giving him a cold stare. He paused the game and got up from his gaming chair. ‘And you are?’

  Liam stood with his arms crossed and his head tilted, weighing up his half-brother. ‘Me, I’m Liam Ritz. This is Arty Stafford.’

  Lucas, with his hair unkempt and three days of stubble, screwed up his face, and with a sense of sarcasm, chuckled. ‘So you’re the donor.’

  Arty could feel his chest rise as he fought to hold back his temper. But this was Liam’s business, not his, although, right now, he wanted to rip Lucas’s head off.

  ‘Your brother, mate,’ replied Liam, wishing he hadn’t said that.

  Lucas smirked. ‘I suppose you would say that. My guess is you wanna meet me now ’cos I’m fucking cako. Well, if you want, I can write out a cheque for the body part.’

  Liam’s face dropped in shock; this wasn’t supposed to happen. He thought maybe they could go for a pint, get to know each other, have some kind of relationship – like he had with Arty and Ricky.

  Lucas winked. ‘What’s up, Liam? Come on, that’s why you’re ’ere, ain’t it? I mean, you never bothered to find me before.’

  Liam was flummoxed. ‘Hang on, I never knew about you until ya robbed me of me kidney.’

  Lucas shrugged his shoulders. ‘Whatever. So, what d’ya want?’

  Arty could see the hurt written across Liam’s face. He squeezed his shoulder and pulled him back. ‘Come on, mate. You don’t need this prick.’

  Lucas laughed. ‘Make that a rich prick.’

  As if rage had suddenly twisted his brain, Liam spun around and lunged forward, grabbing Lucas by the collar, pushing him back against the wall. Nose to nose, he spat, ‘You cocky bastard. I fucking stopped me ol’ man from annihilating you for what you lot did to me. Now, I wish to God I’d never bothered.’

  He let Lucas go and was on the point of walking away but was stopped dead in his tracks when Lucas replied, ‘Your ol’ man went over the top when he held a gun to my head, and he can go away for a long time. So, I suggest you don’t ever touch me again or you’ll be visiting him at Her Majesty’s pleasure.’

  The front that Lucas had shown was enough for Liam to do what he did best – unhinge
his wild side.

  Arty knew that look, and before he’d even had time to draw breath, Liam went for Lucas. The first fast crack to the nose had Lucas sliding down to the floor crying like a baby. Then followed a barrage of blows to Lucas’s ribs. But it was the run-up kick to the head that finished off Lucas, who ended up sprawled out on the bedroom floor. Still in a temper, Liam ripped the PlayStation from the unit, held it high above his head, and smashed it down onto Lucas’s face again and again until the console was smashed to pieces and Lucas’s face was a mangled, bloodied mess.

  ‘Wow, that’s enough!’ shouted Arty, as he pulled Liam away. He knew, with the side table now in Liam’s clutches, Lucas would be dead, if he wasn’t already.

  Nicolas gasped in shock as he pushed the door open. Immediately, he dragged both Arty and Liam away. ‘Get out, boys, for fuck’s sake. Ya ain’t killed the bastard, ’ave ya?’

  Liam was panting hard, trying to get his breath. ‘If I ain’t, I’m going back in there to finish the slimy git off.’

  ‘No! Leave it. That’s all we need, a murder on our hands. Get off with ya, and I’ll clean him up.’

  Liam slowed down his breathing. ‘He threatened to have me ol’ man nicked.’

  Nicolas winked. ‘I can assure you, son, that that won’t happen. He can’t ever go to the Filth, not after he’s signed his own arrest warrant. I’ll make sure he reads it before he wants to make a nuisance of himself. Leave it to me, lads.’

  As they all trooped downstairs, moaning and groaning sounds coming from Lucas’s bedroom told them that they hadn’t killed him.

  Once they were both in the car, Liam looked at his bruised knuckles. ‘Look, Arty, I’m sorry right? I don’t need another fucking brother. You and Ricky … well, you’re family, ain’t ya?’

  Arty started the car. ‘Yeah, and from now on, we follow in our fathers’ footsteps, yeah? We just stick to our own. Now, you get yaself cleaned up. I’ve got some baby wipes in the glove compartment there. You need to get packing, mate. We’ve got a business to run in Spain. That development over there needs a good look over, and now you’re a rich—’

  Liam laughed. ‘Don’t you call me a rich prick an’ all.’

  ‘Nah.’ Arty laughed back. ‘I was gonna say, a rich fucker.’

  ‘I think, Bro – me, you, Ricky, and the girls all need another holiday, so before we get stuck into any business, get on the phone and book a villa, five stars no less.’

  Arty whacked Liam’s arm. ‘Listen, you might be a rich fucker, but that doesn’t make me your skivvy. The holiday can wait. And, Sunshine, we need to get ourselves clued-up and dressed for the part for this takeover. So are you gonna ’ave ya barnet cut and buy a new whistle and flute? I mean, us lads, the three musketeers, wanna look the dog’s bollocks when we stroll into that posh office block.’

  He gave Liam another quick once-over before saying, ‘Especially you, mate, being the boss.’

  As Liam chuckled, Arty beamed. He really didn’t want another lad on the firm, and yet he understood why Liam had had to meet his half-brother. In fact, he would have done the same thing.

  * * *

  Nicolas helped Lucas onto the bed, and after fetching a bowl of warm water and a towel from the kitchen, he began cleaning him up. The bruising on his face was pretty bad, and yet he himself felt absolutely nothing. The arrogant sod deserved it.

  ‘You need to take your tablets, Lucas.’

  Lucas peered through slits. ‘What? What I need is a phone to call the police. Look what that cunt’s done to me. And as for his ol’ man, I want him locked up an’ all.’

  Nicolas nodded. ‘Yeah, all right, mate, but let’s get you better first, eh? Now, like I said, you need to take your tablets.’

  Lucas closed his eyes and nodded.

  As Nicolas got to his feet, he stared down at the boy and shook his head. What a waste of space he truly was.

  Scrutinizing Lucas’s bottles of tablets, Nicolas opened his own medicine cabinet and took out his blood pressure tablets, his cholesterol pills, and the painkillers. It was an easy swap, if ever there was one.

  He grinned to himself. Shelley would be so distracted now, what with all the money she thought she had to spend on her endless shopping trips, that she would never notice if the lad slipped into a coma.

  * * *

  Liam, Arty, and Ricky each parked directly outside the impressive tall building. The parking spaces were now reserved for their vehicles, and they stepped out of their cars with their shoulders pushed back.

  The security guard smiled and welcomed them in. ‘Did you find the traffic okay, Mr Ritz?’ Glen asked Arty, as he directed the question to the person he wrongly assumed was Liam.

  Arty laughed. ‘Mate, he is Mr Ritz, I am Mr Stafford, and this is Mr Regan,’ he said proudly, pointing to his mates in turn.

  Glen had been told that the new owner was young and not who you would imagine a property developer to look like. The description wasn’t far off the mark. Mr Ritz, unlike his sidekicks, was a little scruffy around the edges, to say the least. A long grey military coat and a beanie hat didn’t give the impression that he was the boss, but the sheer presence and size of Mr Stafford and Mr Regan did suggest that he was being accompanied by men who held sway.

  ‘I’m told that most of the offices are empty now,’ said Ricky, with a grin that confused Glen, as he was unsure if it was a smirk or a genuine smile.

  Glen smiled back, showing his gold molars. ‘There are a few guys who apparently have their own clients.’ He shrugged.

  Arty marched past Glen, determined to catch the staff siphoning off the business. He pressed the lift button three times before it finally opened. Liam and Ricky had to trot to keep up with him as they joined him in the lift.

  ‘What’s the sudden rush, mate?’ asked Ricky.

  ‘If Colin’s old staff want the business, they can download all the information, effectively steal the files, and take the clients to another firm. Well, I want them searched before they leave the fucking building.’

  Liam nodded in agreement. ‘Yeah, let’s start as we mean to go on. You take the lead, Arty, ’cos I know fuck all about computers.’

  ‘Best you start learning, then, you crank. How are ya gonna run a business if ya can’t use a computer?’

  Liam grinned. ‘I’ve got Poppy. She knows all that stuff.’

  Arty rolled his eyes and looked at Ricky. ‘I swear sometimes I could kick him up the arse.’

  Liam sighed. ‘Listen, it’s good of Zara to give me this opportunity, but, seriously, Arty, what the fuck do I know? I would rather us all be equal partners, just so that …’

  ‘So that what, ya bloody great oaf?’

  Liam gave them his most charming smile. ‘So that we’re always together.’ He blushed and looked awkward. ‘Look, I love you two as me own brothers, yeah, and, well, what do I know about business? I want us to be in this together. I don’t wanna go me own separate way. It ain’t who I am and it’s also no fun.’

  Arty put an arm around Liam’s and Ricky’s shoulders. ‘All for one mate, then.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear, d’Artagnan.’ Liam laughed at that quip, now feeling more at ease. He knew that in the grand scheme of things he was no leader. He was much like his father in that respect – the backup. Ricky was the cute one with the face that would melt a girl’s heart but with a temper that you wouldn’t see coming. As for Arty, he was someone who was good with technology and would have sailed through an honours degree if he hadn’t settled for a university of life certificate.

  Just as the doors opened, there, looking flushed, stood Amanda with files that she could barely carry.

  She stared at the three young strangers and demanded to know who they were.

  Liam stepped forward and grinned. ‘The new owner, and I’ll take those, thank you very much.’ He snatched the files and handed them to Ricky.

  Arty hissed in Amanda’s face, ‘You, lady, are coming with me before I call the p
olice. Those files are not your property.’

  Amanda felt her legs turn to jelly. ‘Those are my private notes. They’re nothing to do with this firm.’

  Arty, dressed in a light-grey fitted suit, spun around. ‘Listen up, lady. I don’t know who you are, but you’re trespassing. I have a list of all the files associated with this company, and if one of them, and I mean a single one, is missing, then I’ll have every member of staff arrested and that includes you.’ He stormed ahead towards the main administration room where there were eleven desks and computers, six of which were not occupied, but five men, all in suits, were busy doing something on their computers. Stacked up on the counters were box after box. Arty could see that they all contained files.

  ‘Right, all of you, stop what you’re doing! Do not touch any of the computers and step away this minute, or you’ll all be arrested,’ hollered Liam.

  Nearly all of the men did as he instructed but were bemused that the order was coming from some young guy who looked as though he belonged to a pop group. Others stared at Ricky and Arty, who wore aggression like a well-fitted glove. One presumptuous lad, though, just ignored Liam and carried on.

  In a flash, Ricky tore over to the desk, backhanded him, and pushed the man over. ‘Did you not hear what he said?’ He looked at the screen and could see that information was being sent to a personal e-mail address starting with the name ‘Jim Garcia’.

  ‘Arty, this geezer’s downloading stuff.’ He glared at the young man. ‘Is that your name?’

  Nodding, Garcia jumped to his feet and pushed Ricky to get his hands back on the keyboard.

  Ricky reacted in way that had everyone shocked. In a flash, Garcia was grabbed by the throat and dragged over to the large window. With one hand, Ricky opened the window; with the other, which was still throttling the bloke, he forced him over the windowsill. The strength of Ricky was enough to have the top half of Garcia’s body leaning out over the pavement twenty-one floors below.

  The silence was palpable: no one moved for fear that they would be next to feel this young man’s wrath. Garcia, who was hanging backwards, clutched Ricky’s arm for dear life. ‘Please, please, I’m sorry.’