The prison’s musical selection wasn’t that broad. Sean liked a bit of country and western, the raunchier the better. It amused him to go into the multi-faith room on a Sunday evening and slap that on the tape deck, especially if there were some ragheads in there trying to say their prayers. But tonight he had the place to himself, Dolly was singing one of his favourite ballads and he had plenty to think about because tomorrow morning he’d be walking out of those gates.
Being banged up hadn’t been all bad. At forty-five he was fitter than a bloke twenty years younger. He was six two, worked out every day, never backed away from a fight and was the main supplier of drugs to his fellow inmates. As a result he’d risen to the top of the prison hierarchy. Everyone deferred to him, even the screws. Now he was getting out they were queuing up to pay him court.
The door at the back of the room opened quietly and a slight, blond lad slipped in. Other cons knew not to disturb him at this hour, but as his ‘boy’ Darryl had special privileges. Darryl was only twenty-two, had the soft skin and silken lashes of a girl, he was serving three years for burglary and possession with intent to supply. His life inside would’ve been hell if he hadn’t been lucky enough to hook Sean.
Darryl padded softly down the aisle between chairs and sat down next to Sean. Sean glanced at the boy, saw he had tears in his eyes.
‘What the fuck’s up with you?’
Darryl snivelled, wiped his nose with the back of his hand. ‘Gonna miss my big cuddly bear.’
Sean shifted irritably. ‘Don’t fucking call me that. You know I don’t like it.’
‘But I know what you do like, don’t I babe?’ Darryl reached out and stroked Sean’s thigh.
Sean gave a spluttering laugh. ‘Not in here! It’s the fucking chapel, for chrissake! Ain’t you got no respect?’
Darryl gave him a mischievous grin. ‘God loves and accepts all his creatures. I had a regular who was a vicar. I use to blow him in the vestry between Holy Communion and Matins, that’s what he told me God understands.’
Sean grinned. ‘You are a dirty, filthy little whore, ain’t you?’
‘Isn’t that what big bear likes?’ Darryl’s hand was creeping towards Sean’s groin. Sean slapped it away none too gently. Darryl shot him a petulant glance. ‘Ouch! That fuckin’ hurt.’
‘Yeah and I’ll hurt you even more if you don’t stop playing up.’
‘All I’m saying is I’ll miss you. But I’ll be out in six months and we can—’
Darryl didn’t get a chance to say more because Sean seized him by the jaw and twisted his face round until they were eyeball to eyeball.
‘Now you listen to me boy, ’cause I ain’t gonna say this twice. What happens in here stays in here. I ain’t no queer, I’m a married man. I don’t want my Glynis finding out about this. She’d be disgusted.’
Darryl wrenched himself free, he was stronger than he looked.
‘What d’you think she’s been doing all these years? Painting her nails and waiting for you?’
Sean glared at the boy. Nostrils flaring, he wagged his index finger in Darryl’s face. ‘She’s loyal my wife. I won’t have a word spoke against her. Once I’m out, I don’t need none of this and I certainly don’t want it. Got that?’
Darryl’s eyes began to brim with tears. ‘Don’t you like me any more? I thought you liked me. I understand business, on the outside I could be very useful to you.’
Sean took a deep breath, then exhaled. ‘Look you’re a good boy Darryl, but let’s get real here. Once you get out you’ll go back to your fairy friends and our paths won’t cross, not ever. You got your world, I got mine.’
Darryl wiped his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. ‘What’s gonna happen to me in here once you’re gone?’
Sean huffed, this was beginning to get on his nerves. ‘I’ve had a word, Jimmy and the other lads’ll keep an eye on you. That’s the best I can do mate. Take a tip from me, you got a talent, use it.’
Now Darryl really started to blub. ‘But I’m in love with you.’
Sean got up angrily, that really was the last straw. ‘Oh don’t be such a stupid little prick! You faggots, you make me sick to my stomach. Always bloody whining. Worse than a bloody woman.’
He went over to the tape deck, cut Dolly off in mid-flow, strode back up the aisle and was gone, slamming the door behind him.
26
Kaz watched from the kitchen window as the electronic gates swung open and the white stretch limo drew up in front of the house. Ellie and Brian were already outside waiting with Terry in his wheelchair. A huge bunch of yellow ribbons was tied round one of the maple trees in the garden. Kaz was damned if she was going to participate in this farce. She was only there because Joey had begged her.
Ashley got out of the front of the limo, opened the back door. Joey was first to emerge, then Glynis, Sean’s wife, followed by the man himself. Kaz watched as he enveloped Ellie in a hug. His short cropped hair was peppered with grey, but apart from that he seemed much the same as she remembered him. He leant over Terry, patted his shoulder, then enveloped him in a brief manly hug. Terry remained oblivious, his glassy eyes staring into the distance.
Kaz took a deep breath and walked with as much nonchalance as she could muster into the hallway. Sean came through the door, his arm round Ellie’s shoulder, his face sombre.
‘I dunno what to say mate, seeing him like this breaks my fucking heart, I can tell you.’ Then his eye alighted on Kaz and his features broke into a broad grin. ‘Blimey O’Reilly! What we got here? Little Kaz. You certainly grown up. Being banged up’s done more for you than it done for me. All I got is grey hairs.’ He guffawed, Ellie and Brian joined in.
Kaz returned his look with a hard and cold stare. She’d decided to be polite, but that’s where she drew the line. ‘Welcome home Sean.’
He moved in on her, the physical power of him as intimidating as it had ever been.
‘Come on then little cousin, don’t I get a kiss?’ Without waiting for a response, he dragged her into a hug, planted his wet lips on her averted cheek, then released her with a slap on the arse. He clapped his hands together. ‘Now where’s the fucking bubbly?’
As Ellie escorted him through into the sitting room Kaz caught Glynis’s eye. She was a petite, bird-like creature, blonde and fragile. On their first acquaintance years ago she’d put the young Kaz in mind of Barbie. Now in her early forties too many cigarettes and too many sunbeds had turned her lined and leathery. She flicked a nervous smile in Kaz’s direction.
‘All right Kaz? Your mum said you was out. Been meaning to give you a bell.’
Kaz returned the smile with some sympathy. She knew from Joey that Glynis had spent the last ten years living with a betting shop manager called Dave. She’d broached the question of a divorce with Sean, but he’d angrily refused her, insisting he was a Catholic and he still loved her. Mortally afraid of him, she had moved to Eastbourne with Dave in an attempt to break free. But Sean’s reach was long. Probably the only reason Dave was still living and breathing was that no one had felt brave enough to tell Sean the truth. Glynis had visited regularly, kept up the pretence. Now she put Kaz in mind of a hunted animal as she clipped across the tiled floor in her four-inch heels and leather mini skirt following in Sean’s wake.
Ellie led Sean through the sitting room, out into the conservatory and from there into the garden. A marquee had been erected containing half a dozen round tables, a large buffet and a small country and western band. As Sean emerged from the house with Ellie the thirty or so assembled guests raised their glasses on cue, the band struck up and everyone started to sing ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’. Sean stood, grinning from ear to ear, lapping it up and pretending to be surprised.
Kaz and Joey emerged from the house together. Kaz glanced at her brother, his face was a mask.
‘How the hell d’you dig this lot up at such short notice?’
‘Free booze, grub, word got round pretty fast.’
‘Wonder what he makes of it all?’
Joey turned to her. Suddenly his look was intense, penetrating. He kept his voice low. ‘I know what he done to you Kaz, when you was a kid. “Uncle” fucking Sean. You want me to take him out, I will.’
Kaz stared at Joey. She certainly had her own private feelings about the return of Sean, but the simmering fury coming off her brother took her completely by surprise. She laid her hand gently on his arm and returned his gaze.
‘What I want is for you to stick to our agreement. Far as I’m concerned, nothing’s changed.’
He took a deep breath, reined himself in, nodded. ‘Well, it’s your call babes.’
The buffet lunch comprised of spare ribs, southern fried chicken, burgers, all known favourites of Sean’s, with salad as the only concession to health. Bottles of champagne, wine, an avalanche of beer were chilling in plastic dustbins crammed with ice. The three waiters and two caterers were run off their feet serving food and refilling glasses. The band played, there was much strutting and posing on the tiny dance floor. Several former colleagues of Terry and Sean attempted a Cossack dance and wrecked two tables.
As the afternoon sun moved across the garden and shadows lengthened, the party went from raucous to mellow by way of alcohol and exhaustion. Glynis sat on Sean’s knee, drank her way through two bottles of champagne, ate nothing and told anyone who’d listen how overjoyed she was to have her old man home and how they planned to have kids. Ellie became maudlin drunk and sobbed over Terry, who remained glassy-eyed in his wheelchair, sucking champagne through a straw.
Kaz watched the whole cavalcade with a detached eye. It was the first time she’d ever attended a party stone-cold sober, certainly the first family knees-up. These had traditionally been about alcohol and excess, usually ending in a brawl.
She noticed that Joey was toying with a beer and keeping a wary eye on the proceedings. Their eyes met, he inclined his head and she followed him into the house.
He went to the tap in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. She watched him drink, the tension in his shoulders, the blank expression in his eyes.
‘You okay?’ She stroked his arm.
Joey put the glass down. ‘According to Yev, Sean’s recruiting muscle. These Russian army blokes all know each other. Sean’s put the word out he’s hiring.’
Kaz absorbed this with a nod. ‘Well he ain’t about to go straight and get a job as a drugs counsellor, is he?’
‘He’s a slippery sod. I wanna know what he’s up to.’
‘I know but that needn’t affect our plans.’
‘And what are your plans little cousins?’
The enquiry was conversational, friendly even. Kaz and Joey still swivelled round in surprise to find Sean leaning against the door jamb. He took a long swig from the bottle of single malt in his hand. His face was flushed and sweaty, but it was hard to tell just how drunk he was. He held up the bottle.
‘Bubbly’s all very well, but frankly it tastes like piss. Now give me Scotch every time. Proper man’s drink. But maybe I’m just old-fashioned.’
Kaz glanced at Joey, she didn’t entirely trust his mood. His face was calm, still she could feel the aura of anger.
She smiled at Sean. ‘My plans are I’m going to art college. I start in October.’
Sean sniggered. ‘What, you gonna be a fashion designer? Could model your own stuff then, couldn’t you?’
He took a couple of unsteady steps forward, he was leering quite openly at Kaz. He licked his lips. ‘As I recall you had quite a talent for getting your kit off, didn’t you? You liked a bit of fun.’
Joey moved like lightning. He grabbed a carving knife from the wooden block beside the cooker. The eight-inch steel blade flashed up and stopped within inches of Sean’s nose.
Sean gave the knife a bemused look, then laughed. ‘Whoah there boy! You always did have a short fuse, even as a kid.’
But Joey was completely calm, he even started to smile. ‘You’re a guest in this house and I expect you to treat my sister with respect.’
Sean put the whisky bottle down, held out his open palms.
‘No offence Joey. You’ve put on a lovely spread for us. And to tell you the truth I’m bladdered. Kaz knows I don’t mean no harm, don’t you love?’
He glanced at her appealingly. She could see the sweat on his upper lip, feel the heat of his breathing. The booze-sodden smell of him turned her stomach. She glanced at Joey. ‘He’s pissed. Let it go.’
Joey lowered the knife, slotted it back into the block.
Sean grinned, reached out to pat Kaz’s shoulder. ‘You’re a good girl, always was. Come here and give us a kiss, show there’s no hard feelings.’
Kaz took a step backwards. ‘Sean, let’s get a few things straight. I’m not a good girl, certainly not your good girl . . .’
Sean lurched towards her. ‘Awww come on, we’re family. Look at your poor old dad out there – he wouldn’t want us three to fall out, would he?’
He managed to wrap one arm round Joey and the other round Kaz.
‘Now I’m out, we can really get cracking.’ He squeezed Joey’s shoulder. ‘’Cause you and me boy, we got a business to run. And I’m grateful for what you done. Keeping the seat warm for me since your dad was took bad.’
Joey jerked free from Sean’s grasp. He looked him up and down with some disdain. ‘When you’ve sobered up we need to talk.’
Sean laughed but a nasty glint had crept into his eye. ‘I done more business pissed than sober. And I was doing it while you was still crapping your nappy. You got something to say, spit it out.’
Joey put his hands in his pockets, leant back casually against the kitchen counter.
‘Okay. You need to get real Sean. You been inside a long time and the world has changed . . .’
Sean raised his hand. ‘Hold up here, hold up. Three years ago your dad had his stroke. You come to me and you was practically wetting yourself. You needed my advice. And my contacts.’
‘Wetting myself? Do me a favour.’
Sean raised his index finger and jabbed it at Joey. ‘I put you in touch with people – the right people. You think any of those players’d take a kid like you seriously if I hadn’t vouched for you?’
Kaz watched Joey, the more Sean needled him, the more cool and contained he became. She realized he was enjoying himself.
He removed his hands from his pockets, lounged against the countertop. ‘Stuff we’re doing now you wouldn’t even understand. The Net’s changing everything.’
‘Bollocks!’ Sean seized the whisky bottle, took a long swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘It’s still about product – and that’s what I gave you boy, access to top-quality gear. Even a fucking chimp could make money if he got his hands on the product.’
Joey cracked his knuckles, weighing his options. ‘I’m not trying to deny you your due Sean . . .’
‘Bloody right you’re not!’
‘I think a hundred K should cover it. Little retirement nest-egg. I’ll get the cash for you tomorrow. Then we’re square.’
Sean stared at him gone out, then he burst out laughing.
‘You think you can buy me out of my own fucking firm for a lousy hundred K?’
Joey considered this. ‘I think I’m being very fair.’
‘You are joking.’
Joey continued to smile. ‘You’re an old lag Sean, time to retire. Put your feet up, play golf. Kaz and me have got our own plans.’
Sean spluttered. ‘Kaz? What the fuck’s she got to do with any of this? I mean – pardon me love – she’s a fucking woman!’
Joey turned to Kaz, shot her a cheeky grin. ‘He’s an observant old fucker, you have to give him that.’
Kaz smiled at her brother’s sarcasm, but Sean wasn’t amused. He launched himself at Joey, seizing him by the throat. ‘Think you can take the piss out of m
e you little prick—’
The booze had robbed him of his edge. Joey twisted himself deftly out of Sean’s grasp and threw a choke-hold round his neck. He dragged him several paces across the kitchen, squeezing the breath out of him. Sean gasped, lashed out wildly but to no avail, his face turning puce as Joey tightened his iron grip.
Kaz watched, mesmerized. She had to admit that watching Sean suffer was enjoyable. But was she really going to stand there and let Joey choke him to death? That would hardly be sensible. She was about to step in when her mother appeared in the doorway. Ellie was three sheets to the wind, she swayed slightly, but still rapidly absorbed the scene before her and immediately took charge.
‘Fucking hell! Joey, put your cousin down! Now! Why is it every sodding party we have in this house ends in a sodding fight? I’m sick of it!’
Joey released Sean, who collapsed in a gasping heap on the floor.
He looked up, pointed an accusing finger at Joey. ‘You little wanker!’ His voice was hoarse, but the rage was unmistakable. ‘I’m gonna teach you a lesson you won’t forget.’ His bleary gaze travelled to Kaz. ‘You and her – miserable little slut! I’ll take you both down. I fucking swear!’
27
Turnbull took his place at the head of the conference table. He removed his jacket, slotted it neatly on the back of his chair and started to roll up his sleeves. It was a politician’s trick, often performed for the news media, a symbolic act, a way of saying to the assembled company, ‘I’m a grafter, I mean business.’ But since the only other person present was Bill Mayhew the gesture was somewhat redundant.
He sat down and picked up the file in front of him. ‘Presumably you’ve read this?’
Mayhew looked up, blinked several times, an owl suddenly caught in the headlights.
Turnbull gave him a critical glance. ‘The parole board’s report on Sean Phelps? I’ll take that as a no, shall I?’
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