by Caz Finlay
‘Thanks, Bro.’ Craig couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride whenever his older brother, his hero, paid him a compliment. He’d never got on as well with his other brothers as he did Bradley. Ged had been born with a massive chip on his shoulder, and had taken it out on his younger brothers until they’d been big enough to stand up to him. Billy was a bit of a loner, who for the most part kept his thoughts and feelings to himself, and Scott had always been a mummy’s boy. Craig would kill for any of his brothers, but he would die for Bradley.
‘I’m glad you’re out, mate. I felt like I’d lost my right arm with you inside,’ Bradley said.
‘Well, your right arm is back and ready to get stuck in, as soon as I’ve been home and seen to the wife.’ Craig grinned.
‘Good. I could do with some help sorting out a few little scrotes who’ve been avoiding paying me what they owe. They’re over in Birkenhead. Fancy a little drive later?’
‘Sounds good. But I’ve got to see my PO at three.’
‘Sound. I’ll pick you up from yours at half seven.’
‘Is Billy coming?’
Bradley shook his head. ‘Nah. Let’s just me and you go. Like the old days.’
‘Sound, Bro,’ Craig replied, recalling how he and Bradley had once had a lucrative, if short-lived, career taxing local dealers, before they’d had a hiding from Michael Carter for stealing from the wrong person. That ensured they’d burned their bridges in Liverpool. Back then, if you fucked with Grace Sumner, you were screwed. Fortunately for them, Bradley’s then girlfriend, now wife, Tina, was from Manchester and her brothers had connections to Sol Shepherd, so they’d managed to land themselves an even better gig selling drugs for him. They knew as long as they stayed out of Liverpool, and out of Grace Sumner and Michael Carter’s way, they’d be sweet. Soon they’d been doing so well, they’d had to enlist the help of Ged and Billy. The Johnson brothers had coined it in until one of Sol’s trusted inner circle had turned out to be a grass and had thrown them all under the fucking bus. Him and Ged had got eight years each, Billy just five, while by some miracle Bradley had been lucky enough to avoid having his collar felt at all.
Craig smiled as they drove through the streets of Liverpool towards his house in Old Swan. Their partnership with Alastair McGrath was going to make them untouchable. They weren’t just the Johnson brothers any more. Now they had some serious backing behind them. If Alastair wanted to branch out into the North-West, then Craig and his brothers would ensure that they rode his coat tails all the way to the top.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Arriving back at home, Grace kicked off her shoes and walked along the hallway to the living room. She’d driven around for a few hours after speaking to Jake, thinking about how she could fix the whole mess they’d all got themselves into. But no solutions had presented themselves and she was as confused as ever.
Michael was sitting on the sofa when she walked into the room. When he saw her enter, he stood up and walked over to her. Thankfully he appeared to have stopped drinking and was looking considerably more sober than when she’d left earlier that morning.
Grace looked at her husband. She saw the tears pricking his eyes and the agony on his face, but as much as her instinct was to offer him some words of comfort, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was too hurt herself to try and deal with his pain too.
‘Grace, please?’ he started. ‘What can I do to prove to you how sorry I am? What will it take for you to forgive me?’
‘I don’t know,’ she sighed.
‘You must understand I was in an impossible situation, Grace.’
‘I know you were. I really do. I know you were torn between your loyalty to your son and your loyalty to me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the fact that the people I love and trusted most in the world have been lying to me. I feel like my whole world has been tipped upside down and you were all just waiting for it to happen.’
‘I know that, but…’
Grace shook her head. ‘Do you know what? I could have handled the others lying to me. I could have dealt with the whole fallout of this entire shit-storm if I’d just had you on my side. If only you had been honest with me. That’s what hurts me the most.’
‘I know—’
‘No!’ she snapped. ‘No, you do not know. You don’t know at all. You have no idea what it took for me to let myself fall in love with you. To agree to marry you.’
‘What?’ he said with a frown. ‘I didn’t realise it was so fucking difficult for you to marry me.’
‘Well, it was. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have to survive a marriage where the person who swore to love and protect you is actually a monster whose sole purpose is to destroy you and everything that is good in your life? Do you know what it was like to have to protect myself and Jake from Nathan every single hour of every single day? Because there was no one else to do it. And even when I was finally free of him, I was so terrified to let anyone else in get that close to me again. I was so damaged that the thought of doing that was incomprehensible. But then, something incredible happened, and you finally got through my armour. I trusted you. I gave you everything I had, and then you broke that trust by lying to me. This has broken me, Michael.’
He stared at her. ‘Grace,’ he whispered.
‘Stop!’ she snapped, unable to look at him any longer for fear she might say something she’d regret. ‘Look, I just need some space.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Just leave me be for a while. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t expect you to go anywhere, the kids would be devastated. But I just want some space to think.’
‘About what?’ He sounded exasperated now.
‘Us. This mess, and how we’re going to fix it.’
‘It’s not our mess to fix. It’s for our kids to sort out. Our grown-up sons who are perfectly capable of looking after themselves and making decisions, stupid fucking decisions I’ll grant you, but we need to let them sort this out themselves.’
‘And you think they’ll do that? This could tear our whole family apart.’
‘It won’t,’ he sighed.
‘If one of you had just told me. Maybe I could have—’
‘What? Stopped this? I know you’re good, Grace but even you couldn’t have prevented this. Our kids fucked up. The three of them. And they have to take responsibility for that. You have to stop trying to fix everything for everyone.’
Grace glared at him. ‘Spoken by a man who has never been left to pick up the pieces.’
‘That’s not fair, Grace.’
‘Fair? None of this is fair. What about poor Isla? The poor kid doesn’t know if she’s coming or going.’ She shook her head. It was all too much to even think about.
‘Where does this leave us?’ Michael asked.
She shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know.’
The sound of the doorbell brought their discussion to an abrupt end, much to Grace’s relief. She left the room to answer the door, leaving Michael standing alone in their living room.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Siobhan opened the front door and burst into tears as soon as she saw her friend Jenny standing there on her doorstep. She had phoned her thirty minutes earlier after putting Isla to bed and asked her to call round.
‘Hey,’ Jenny said as she stepped into the hallway and pulled Siobhan into a hug. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Everything,’ Siobhan sniffed.
‘Well, let’s open this and you can tell me all about it,’ Jenny replied as she held up the bottle of rosé she’d brought with her.
Siobhan wiped the tears from her face. ‘Sounds like a good idea,’ she said with a faint smile.
With an arm around each other’s waist, the two women walked down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Siobhan looked at Jenny, who stared at her open-mouthed. Siobhan had just relayed a blow-by-blow account of the incident the previous day when she’d told Jake he might not be
Isla’s father, and filled in all of the backstory too. Jenny had once been her best friend, and Siobhan was sure she could still trust her to be discreet, although part of her was beyond caring. She needed someone to talk to, and she felt like there was no one else she could confide in.
‘Wow!’ Jenny said as she poured them both another glass of wine. ‘And I thought my time in New York was eventful.’
‘What am I going to do, Jen?’ Siobhan said as she took the proffered glass of wine from her friend’s outstretched hand.
Jenny shook her head. ‘Damned if I know, girl. You’re in a right mess, aren’t you?’
Siobhan nodded. ‘I sent for one of them DNA tests today.’
‘Well, that seems like a good place to start. Find out the truth and then work from there.’
‘Yes, but how do I get the DNA samples from Jake or Connor?’ she said with a sigh.
‘Well, you only need one, don’t you? If Jake isn’t Isla’s dad, then Connor is. Or is there someone else?’
‘No!’ Siobhan shrieked. ‘What do you take me for, Jen?’
Jenny laughed. ‘I’m just making sure. No one could blame you. Jake obviously wasn’t satisfying your needs. So you were perfectly entitled to look elsewhere. He was!’
‘That may be, but that doesn’t help me figure out how to get their DNA sample. I can’t bear to ask either of them,’ she said with a shudder.
‘What about asking Grace?’ Jenny suggested.
‘Grace? Are you serious?’
‘Why not? You said you always got on well—’
‘Yeah, before I slept with her stepson behind her son’s back!’
‘She’s a better bet than those two though, isn’t she? She’s a woman. She must understand how hard it was for you being married to a gay man, whether he was her son or not.’
Siobhan shook her head. ‘I really don’t think she’ll see it that way. She adores Jake. He’s her son – and no matter what he was, or is, what I did is unforgivable.’
‘Didn’t she lie about Belle’s dad though?’
‘Yes. But that was completely different. Grace and Michael spent one night together when she got pregnant with Belle. Michael was married and she didn’t want to ruin that for him. She lied, but it was for a good reason.’
‘Seems like she ain’t no saint to me,’ Jenny said with a raised eyebrow.
‘You don’t know her,’ Siobhan said with a wistful shake of her head. ‘She’s amazing. And I really miss her,’ she sniffed.
‘Well, if you want to know the truth, seems like it’s either her or one of the potential fathers. Which is it to be?’
Grace considered Jenny’s question. She had no idea what reception she’d get from Grace if she turned up at her house unannounced. But, what she did know was that it would be a whole lot better than any reception she’d get from Connor or Jake.
‘You know what? You’re right. I’ll go to Grace. I’ll ask my mum to watch Isla for an hour tomorrow, and call round.’
Jenny nodded. ‘That’s settled then.’
Siobhan stared at her friend as her lower lip started to wobble. ‘What if she refuses to see me?’
Jenny stood up and walked around the breakfast bar. Putting her arm around Siobhan, she pulled her close. ‘She won’t,’ she said soothingly.
Siobhan gave Jenny a faint smile, but she didn’t feel quite so confident about the reception she’d receive from Grace. There was no saying how she would react. Siobhan wasn’t even sure exactly how much Grace knew about the whole situation. Did she know that Siobhan had slept with Connor? Had Connor told everyone the details of their tawdry night together? God, the thought of Grace knowing intimate details of her sex life made her want to curl up and hide away. Nevertheless, any shame she felt was vastly overshadowed by the fear that she could potentially be on the receiving end of the legendary wrath of Grace Carter. Grace was fiercely protective of her family, particularly her children, and Siobhan also felt an acute sadness that she might never again feel the safety and security that came with being a member of that family.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bradley Johnson pulled up outside his younger brother Craig’s terraced house in Old Swan and beeped the horn of his Mercedes to let Craig know he was there. A few seconds later he watched as his brother opened the door and then disentangled himself from his two daughters, Cheyenne and Jade.
‘I’ll be back in a bit, girls,’ he shouted as he bounced down the path, rolling his eyes and grinning at Bradley as he did.
‘God, I’ve only been home for a few hours and I’m glad to be out of there already,’ Craig said, laughing as he climbed into the passenger seat. ‘Can’t be doing with all them females and their raging hormones.’
Bradley nodded in sympathy. Craig’s daughters were a few years older than his, and he was dreading Keisha and Carly getting older. At nine and seven years of age, they were already a handful. Unlike his son, Bradley Junior, who was coming up to thirteen and was as good as gold.
‘How was your meeting with your PO?’ Bradley asked.
‘All right.’ Craig shrugged. ‘She gave me a list of rules to follow and told me about some job club I’m supposed to go to next week.’
Bradley laughed. ‘Did you tell her to stick her job club up her arse?’
Craig shook his head. ‘Can’t, can I? I have to at least to pretend to play the game. Anyway, tell me where we’re off to on this glorious Monday evening?’
‘Off over to the dark side. There’s a couple of lads who have been selling some gear for us round Birkenhead. They were good as gold at first, and then they started being a day late paying. Now they’ve been dodging my calls all weekend, and I think it’s about time they learned that we are not men to be messed with.’
‘Sound.’
Bradley smiled as he pulled into the Wallasey tunnel. It was good to have his favourite brother back by his side. He liked working with his other brothers too, but he and Craig had always had a special bond – an understanding. However, together the Johnson family were unstoppable.
Just over twenty minutes later, Bradley pulled up outside the almost vacant block of flats in Birkenhead where Kev and Colin lived. Opening the boot of his car, he took out a small crowbar.
‘What’s your poison?’ he asked Craig, as they looked over the array of tools in the boot.
‘This’ll do me,’ Craig said as he picked up a sledgehammer.
Bradley nodded. ‘Let’s go and remind our friends why they need to pay on time then.’
They jogged up the steps to the second floor and knocked on the door of Kev and Colin’s flat. When there was no answer, Bradley jimmied the lock with the crowbar and the two Johnson brothers burst into the flat to find Kev and Colin Jones comatose on the sofa, surrounded by various drug paraphernalia.
‘Fucking hell. They’re wasted,’ Craig said in disgust.
‘Fuck!’ Bradley snapped. ‘We could kick seven shades of shite out of them and they wouldn’t feel a thing.’
Craig shook his head. ‘What you doing letting this pair of crackheads sell our gear, Bro?’
Bradley frowned at his brother. ‘Well, I didn’t know they were crackheads, did I? Obviously, they looked all right when I spoke to them. Big Geoff said they were okay, and it’s not like we have much choice right now. Conlon and those fucking twins have got most of the Wirral sewn up as well. We’ve got to start somewhere, haven’t we?’
‘Alastair won’t like this,’ Craig said quietly.
‘Fuck Alastair!’ Bradley shouted. ‘Besides, who’s gonna tell him? I’m not. Are you?’
‘Course not.’ Craig shook his head. ‘But how much do they owe us?’
‘Ten grand,’ Bradley replied.
‘Ten grand?’ Craig snapped. ‘For fuck’s sake, Brad.’
‘That’s pocket change to Alastair McGrath. He’s not gonna miss it. Besides, we can make it up elsewhere.’
‘Whatever you say, mate,’ Craig replied sarcastically. ‘And what about
this pair of cunts?’
Bradley kicked one of the sleeping men in the face and he groaned but remained otherwise motionless as the blood started to pour from his nose. ‘Have a quick look round and see if any of our gear’s left. If not, let’s just torch the place.’
‘What? With these two in it?’
Bradley nodded. ‘Don’t you think nicking ten grand off us is something we need to send a message about? If it gets out that we let this pair of lowlifes get away with nicking from us, we’re never going to make our mark. We need to send a message, Craig. You never used to be so squeamish.’
‘I’m not squeamish,’ Craig snapped. ‘But there are other flats here. There could be kids in them. Or someone’s old granny for all you know.’
‘Most of the flats in this block are empty. But if you’re that worried, we’ll give the neighbours’ doors a bang on the way out.’
‘You’re the boss,’ Craig said with a shrug.
Bradley took some of the old newspapers and magazines and arranged them in a pile on the old couch, before pouring the dregs of a bottle of vodka onto the carpet. Taking one of the lighters from the coffee table, he lit the pile of paper and watched as it quickly caught fire. The flames were already spreading across the couch when Craig walked back into the room.
‘None of our gear is in here. Looks like they fucking took it all themselves,’ he said with a look of disgust.
‘Let’s get going then,’ Bradley ordered.
The two of them walked out of the flat and closed the door on the burning rooms behind them. As promised, they banged loudly on the neighbours’ doors as they passed, before running down the steps and climbing into Bradley’s car.
As they drove back through the tunnel to Liverpool, Craig started to wonder whether torching the Joneses’ flat, with them inside, had been the right thing to do. If he’d been in charge, he would have gone back tomorrow when they were sober, given them a good kicking, and then ensured the Joneses remained indebted to them for all eternity. They would have spent the rest of their miserable lives working to pay off that ten grand debt. As it was, now Craig and Bradley had lost their drugs and their money, and had absolutely no chance of getting any of it back.