by Caz Finlay
‘You all right?’ Bradley said as Craig stared out of the window.’
‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘I just wonder if we should have handled that differently, that’s all.’
‘You’re not going soft on me, are ya, lad?’
‘No! But we could have used them. Got our money back somehow.’
‘No chance, Craig. Did you see them? A useless pair of oxygen stealers. We’ve done the world a favour getting rid of them.’
‘Whatever,’ Craig said and went back to staring out of the window. He was used to Bradley’s way of working even though he sometimes didn’t agree with it. His eldest brother had always been impulsive, preferring to ask for forgiveness rather than permission ever since they were kids, but Craig wasn’t sure that kind of thinking got you far with the likes of Alastair McGrath. Craig had worked hard to get into Alastair’s inner circle while he’d been inside, earning his respect and trust. This was a huge opportunity for the Johnson brothers and there was no way Craig was going to allow anyone to fuck it up for them. Not even Bradley.
Bradley stared at the road ahead and tried his best to ignore Craig’s bad mood. Instead he thought about what a stroke of luck it had turned out to be that Kev and Colin were wasted when they’d arrived. Instead of the two grand in debt they actually owed, now Bradley had been able to pin the whole ten grand on them. It was one less thing for him to worry about. At least Craig would have his back trying to recoup the missing money and he no longer had to do it alone. Bradley hadn’t meant to gamble away ten grand of Alastair McGrath’s money in the casino the week before. He’d intended to double his money, and he’d been on course to until they’d changed the croupier on him, and Bradley’s luck had disappeared with her. If he’d have just had a couple of hundred quid left, he could have won it all back, and more. But luck hadn’t been on his side.
Alastair McGrath had agreed to give Bradley ten grand as a deposit on a little terraced house in Bootle. It was being sold by an old acquaintance of his and Bradley had planned to make it the base of the Johnson brothers’ operations. They couldn’t be having too many drugs coming in and out of their own houses with the kids hanging about, or the possibility that the plod might come sniffing around. Alastair had agreed that it was good business and would only help to maximise profits in the long term. Bradley could have tripled that money on a good night in the casino, and Alastair would have been none the wiser, but now he would have to find a way to scrape the money together from somewhere. Craig would help him think of something though, Bradley was sure of that. His younger brother was loyal to a fault; it was one of the things he admired so much about him. He felt a pang of guilt for lying to Craig about Alastair’s money, but Bradley had been lying to his family for years, and the more he lied, the easier it became. Besides, lying to Craig was an infinitely better option that allowing Alastair McGrath to find out that he’d lost ten grand of his money. Whilst the brief twinges of guilt would ease, the fear that someone would slip into his house in the middle of the night and slit his throat wouldn’t have been so easily allayed.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Paul Carter climbed out of his car and pulled up the collar of his jacket. Walking through the staff car park, he reached the entrance to The Blue Rooms and nodded to the bouncers on the door.
‘All right, lads,’ he said as he walked through them.
‘All right, Boss,’ they murmured back to him. While most of them looked him in the eye, a few others fidgeted nervously and averted his gaze, suggesting to Paul that they been witness to, or heard about, his and Connor’s spat with Jake the night before.
Paul walked through to the back office, wondering what reception he was likely to get. He wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but hoped that Jake would at least listen to what he had to say.
Paul pushed open the office door and saw Jake sitting at his desk with a half-empty bottle of whisky in front of him.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ Jake growled at him.
‘I’m just here to talk to you, mate,’ Paul replied.
‘Mate?’ Jake said with a snort. ‘You must be fucking kidding. You’re no mate of mine. Mates don’t stab you in the back. Mates don’t do what you did.’
‘Jake,’ Paul said as he took a step towards him, his hands raised in surrender. ‘I know you’re angry—’
‘Angry?’ Jake bellowed. ‘That’s a fucking understatement!’
‘I know,’ Paul said quietly.
‘No! You don’t fucking know, Paul. What Connor did is fucking despicable.’
‘I know.’
‘But you still covered up for him?’
‘What was I supposed to do, Jake?’
Picking up the bottle of whisky, Jake started to pour himself a large glass. ‘I bet the two of you had a right laugh at me, didn’t you?’
‘No, of course we didn’t.’
‘I don’t fucking believe you, Paul. How could you do that to me? How could you let me marry her, knowing that Isla wasn’t mine?’ He slumped in his chair and downed the glass of whisky in one.
Paul had asked himself that same question over and over again and the only answer was his loyalty to his twin. ‘Siobhan said she was yours, Jake. Connor believed her. They only slept together once. But we should have told you. I’m sorry.’
Jake looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. ‘Sorry?’
‘More than you could imagine.’
‘You know what, Paul?’
‘What?’
‘Fuck off!’ Jake shouted as he launched his empty glass at Paul’s head. Paul ducked just in time, allowing the glass to hit the wall behind him and shatter.
‘Okay. I’m going,’ Paul said as he backed out of the office.
‘And don’t fucking come back, you traitorous bastard,’ Jake shouted after him.
Paul climbed into his car and rested his forehead on the cool leather steering wheel. How could it be that in twenty-four hours his whole world felt like it was falling apart? It felt like all of the people he loved most in the world were at each other’s throats. He already missed Jake so much it felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest. He missed his dad and Grace, and being able to pop into their house whenever he felt like it – to ask for their advice, or just to eat their food. He missed his little brother and sister and how they always smiled whenever he walked into the room. It was Sunday in a few days and it would be the first one he hadn’t spent with his family for as long as he could remember. Everything was fucked and he didn’t have a clue how to fix it.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ged Johnson walked through the hallway and into the kitchen of his childhood home. Since his beloved mum had died, his eldest brother Bradley and his wife Tina had moved in and now called the place their own, along with their three kids, Bradley Junior, Keisha and Jade. They’d offered to put Ged up for a while when he’d got out of the nick, but the constant noise and chaos of the house would have soon started to drive him nuts, so he’d sorted his own little flat near Everton Brow. Still, he, like his three younger brothers, came to the house on Bournemouth Street almost every day. It was the family seat, the base of the Johnson brothers’ operations. Tina always made them some grub while they talked business.
Ged smiled as he saw all four of his brothers sitting around the kitchen table. They were waiting for him. They would never start without him, and today he had some belting news to share with them all. News that was about to change their lives and would finally cement their rise to the top.
‘You’re late, lad,’ Bradley said as he took his feet off the chair he’d had them resting on to allow Ged to sit down.
Ged picked up a bacon butty from the pile on the plate in the centre of the table and grinned. ‘I’ve been busy.’
‘Doing what?’ Bradley snapped.
‘Yeah, what?’ one of his younger brothers, Craig, added.
Ged sat in his chair and smiled at them all. He enjoyed being the centre of attention for a change. Growing up, Bradle
y had been the golden child. His mum and dad thought the sun shone out of his arse. His youngest brother, Scott, was the baby who everyone had to look after. He, Craig and Billy had had to jostle for position and attention. He was only a year younger than Bradley, but it was Bradley who was always first in the queue for everything. Ged had to make do with his brother’s castoffs.
Well, today he was going to be the star of the show whether Bradley liked it or not.
‘I was down the bookies this morning and I bumped into Mickey Newhall. He was telling me that Jake Conlon and the Carter twins have had a massive fallout, and I mean a big one.’
Bradley waved his hand in dismissal. ‘Mickey Newhall is a fucking quilt who gossips like an old tart. Take no fucking notice of him.’
Ged frowned. ‘Mickey heard them come to blows himself. Jake told the Carters never to go near his club again.’
‘It won’t last. They’re fucking family. Grace Sumner is married to Michael Carter. Do you think the pair of them will stand for their kids being at odds?’
‘Well, I asked around and Grace and Michael aren’t happy about it, obviously. Caused a bit of trouble in paradise by all accounts. But the lads still won’t speak to each other. Jake even asked Mickey if he knew anyone who could sort some shooters for him. You know the Carters always took care of that. I’m telling you, Brad, they’re at fucking war.’
Bradley regarded his younger brother. There had always been a rivalry between the two of them. Their dad had thought it funny to encourage it, while their mum had been too scared of him to put a stop to any of his nonsense. Bradley always felt an underlying animosity from Ged, and although he loved his brother, Ged’s seemingly constant need to outdo him annoyed him at times. But even Bradley had to admit, if what Ged was saying was true, it was a stroke of luck that had come at exactly the right time.
‘All right, Ged. Suppose your information is right.’
‘It is,’ Ged snapped.
‘Well, if it is, this is like a fucking gift from the gods, lads. We’d be stupid not to capitalise on those little fuckers being at each other’s throats.’
‘What do you mean?’ Scott piped up.
‘I mean that we are going to strike while our enemies are weak. What better time to take over than when the enemy is distracted and too busy bickering with each other to pay any attention to what we’re doing? We’re going to make sure that Jake Conlon and the Carter twins become nothing more than a memory.’
Ged nodded his agreement, with Craig and Billy following suit.
‘They won’t have a clue what’s fucking hit them,’ Craig said, laughing.
‘Bunch of arrogant wankers,’ Billy joined in.
Soon, four of the five Johnson brothers were grinning from ear to ear as they started to discuss how they would put their new plan into action. It was only Scott Johnson who remained quiet while he sipped his now cold mug of tea and watched his brothers. The bacon butty he’d consumed fifteen minutes earlier was threatening to make a reappearance and only the thought of the look of disgust that would appear on Bradley’s face stopped him from throwing up all over the table. His brothers were crazy. Whilst they liked to remind him at every opportunity just how much he had to learn about the family business, he was the only one who could see that taking on Jake Conlon and the Carters was a suicide mission. Even if they were at war with each other, they were still dangerous and ruthless men, who weren’t going to roll over and let people take the piss just because they’d had some family drama. His idiot older brothers were going to get themselves killed, and, if he wasn’t careful, him too.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Siobhan Conlon shook the rain from her umbrella and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.
It seemed like an eternity before the door opened, but once it did, Siobhan felt her knees buckle. Finally, she was standing face to face with her mother-in-law. The woman whom she admired more than any other she had ever known, and whose opinion meant more to her than she had previously realised. And now she was also a woman whom Siobhan had betrayed. When she’d lied to Jake, she’d lied to Grace too.
Siobhan swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Hi, Grace,’ she said softly. ‘Can I come in?’
To say Grace was shocked to see Siobhan standing on her doorstep was an understatement. Despite how close they had been, Siobhan had lied to everyone and Grace was sure she would be keeping her head down, considering the shit-storm she’d helped to create in the past few days. But there she was, as large as life. There was something about the way she stood there, trembling in the rain, but holding her own, and looking Grace in the eye, that reminded Grace of why she had loved her so much. If she had any sense, and she did, Siobhan would be worried about the potential welcome she’d receive from her mother-in-law, but she was standing there anyway, ready to face the music. Siobhan’s quiet strength was something that Grace had always admired about her daughter-in-law. She reminded her of herself in her younger days, when she’d had to learn to fend for herself and Jake. That quiet determination, and the unshakable knowledge that you would do whatever it took to protect your child.
Grace opened the door wider. ‘Come in.’
Siobhan followed Grace into the kitchen, passing the living room, where Michael was lying on the floor playing with Belle and Oscar. Siobhan caught his eye as she passed and noted the scowl flash across his face.
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Grace asked, already filling the kettle as Siobhan took a seat at the breakfast bar.
‘Yes, please,’ Siobhan replied and sat patiently while Grace made the two of them a drink. She watched as Grace moved around the kitchen, unable to judge how she was coping with the recent discovery that Jake might not be Isla’s father. It was impossible to tell. Grace was impossible to read. Even in situations of extreme stress, she kept a cool head. It was one of the things that must have made her so terrifying to anyone who crossed her. Siobhan felt her heart start to race as she realised she had never been on the receiving end of Grace’s ire before.
‘There you go,’ Grace said coolly, placing the mug of tea on the breakfast bar and snapping Siobhan out of her thoughts.
‘Thanks,’ Siobhan replied quietly, wrapping her hands around the mug, the warmth offering her some degree of comfort in what was now a decidedly frosty atmosphere.
Grace sat on the stool opposite Siobhan with her own drink and proceeded to stare at her, until Siobhan finally mustered the courage to speak.
‘I wanted to explain—’
‘I don’t think there’s any amount of explaining that can dig you, or any of us, out of this mess,’ Grace replied curtly.
‘I know that,’ Siobhan replied. ‘But I wanted to try anyway. I feel like I owe that to everyone, but especially you, Grace.’
‘Me? Don’t you think it’s Jake you need to be talking to?’
‘Yes. Of course. But he won’t speak to me at all. Not that I blame him. But I thought I’d give him a chance to cool off. Especially after…’
‘After what?’ Grace said, her eyebrows pulled into a frown.
‘Nothing.’ Siobhan shook her head and absent-mindedly rubbed her neck. She hadn’t intended to mention what had happened between her and Jake the other day. She didn’t want to be accused of trying to gain sympathy – because she wasn’t.
Grace walked around the counter and looked at her closely. ‘Did Jake do that?’ she asked as she gently touched the bruises on her daughter-in-law’s neck, which Siobhan had thought were concealed by the high-necked blouse she was wearing.
‘He was upset.’
‘Upset? I don’t care what he was, there’s still no excuse for that. Absolutely none at all,’ Grace said before shaking her head and walking back to her seat.
Siobhan watched as Grace appeared lost in thought. ‘I really did believe Jake was Isla’s father, Grace,’ she said. ‘I still do.’
Grace stared at her, as though she’d forgotten that Siobhan was in the room for a moment. ‘But Connor
, Siobhan? Of all people. Why? Why would you even think of going there?’
Siobhan shrugged. ‘It was wrong. I know that. But I was so hurt, Grace. When I found out about him and Paul, I thought my heart was going to break. When I slept with Connor, I told myself it was because he was the first person who’d looked at me that way for a long time. But, I suppose a part of me knew that it would hurt Jake as much as he had hurt me.’ She stopped talking and looked down at her hands, trying to will herself not to cry.
‘So you knew Jake was gay when you agreed to marry him?’
Siobhan felt the flush of heat creeping up her neck. Grace was the smartest woman she knew. There was no hiding anything under the scrutiny of her gaze. ‘I knew about him and Paul, yes. But I wanted to believe it was a mistake, Grace. I loved him so much that I thought I could change him. I thought that I could be enough for him,’ she sniffed, trying to stop herself from crying but failing to prevent the tears from starting.
Grace simply nodded in response.
Grace had no idea what to think any more. The bruises on Siobhan’s neck were shocking, to say the least. It reminded her of the pattern of bruising that she had seen on her own neck so many times before, at the hands of Jake’s father, Nathan. Grace knew that her son was no angel. But surely he was better than that? She had raised him better than that – at least she’d thought she had. She tried to put herself in his position. He’d just found out his daughter might not be his child, that his wife had slept with one of his best friends and lied to him, but no matter what Siobhan had done, it didn’t warrant that. Nothing did. You didn’t do that to people you claimed to love – no matter how much they hurt you.