Maura's Game

by Martina Cole

  She knew this and sipped her drink silently for a few moments before saying: ‘What do you know, Billy?’

  She was shrewd enough not to tell him anything. She would first listen to what he had to say and then she would decide for herself.

  He liked her, he always had. He hoped she still liked him after what he was about to tell her.

  Lee snuggled up to Sheila on the Habitat sofa and said once more imploringly: ‘Please, Sheila, take the kids and go to the house in Spain.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Don’t be so silly, Lee. They have school . . .’

  He interrupted her.

  ‘I ain’t asking you, I am telling you. Now I mean it, Sheila. I will send someone out there with you, but you are going.’ He stroked her expanding belly. ‘Do this, Sheila, please. Do it for me.’

  ‘No!’

  She pulled herself up with difficulty.

  ‘What on earth is all this about, Lee? Go to Spain with the kids, like we can just up and go on a whim? I have loads to sort out for this one here.’ She patted her belly. ‘Plus the kids are still at school, no holidays due. I refuse to take them out of their routine because of you. So just forget it, Lee.’

  ‘Someone shot Janine tonight.’

  He didn’t want to tell her, did not want her to know anything about the business. She was kept in the dark by everyone and that was how he liked it. He watched the stillness on her face sorrowfully. He hadn’t even mentioned the attack on his mother, it would be too much.

  ‘What, shot her with a gun?’

  He could hear the disbelief in her voice, see it in her stance.

  ‘Why would anyone want to shoot Janine?’

  She was getting hysterical and he grabbed her in a bear hug, trying to calm her down.

  ‘Who’s next then, the kids? Is this why you want me out of the way, in case I’m next on the list?’

  She was white with fear.

  ‘Oh, God. Oh, God. Someone is going to shoot me and my baby, aren’t they?’

  Her voice was now practically a scream and Lee was terrified.

  ‘Of course not, babe, this is just a safety measure. No one will touch you or the kids, I promise. I just want you out of the way to make me feel better. Because I will be away a lot and I can’t take proper care of you.’

  He was babbling and he knew it.

  Sheila threw him off; he was surprised at the strength of her.

  ‘You bastard! You have brought fear into our home.’

  ‘You’re over-reacting . . .’

  Her eyes stretched to their widest as she screamed, ‘Over-reacting? Janine was shot, and you want me to run off to Spain, and I’m over-reacting? What fucking planet are you on, Lee?’

  He could see the terror in her eyes, and as her hands went to her belly and she doubled over in pain and fright he wished to God he had never entered the family business. But it was too late for thoughts like that because he was in it. In it over his head.

  ‘I’m going, Lee. I’m going to me mum’s right now. I ain’t staying here to be murdered in me own home.’

  He tried to take her into his arms once more but she pushed him away.

  ‘Don’t touch me. When you kept us out of your dealings I could live with it. Now you have brought trouble to my door . . .’

  He remembered his mother saying the same words many years ago to his brother Michael and they saddened him. He knew his marriage would never recover from this night. Already he could see the revulsion in Sheila’s eyes. He knew that she loved their children with a passion she had never felt for him in any way, shape or form. If she had the choice between him and the kids she would pick them any day of the week, and that was why he loved her so much. It was what had attracted him to her in the first place. Her homeliness, her family-mindedness. Now the same qualities were going to be the cause of a rift between them so great it might never be resolved.

  He was sick at heart that this was happening. She was everything to him and so were his boys. Never once had they had a cross word, never once had they ever had to argue about anything. He had kept his work outside the home and never, ever mentioned it to her. It was something that had held them together; the fact she knew nothing had always made him feel that she was safe. Everyone knew she was a civilian, a real civilian. He never even took her out to the restaurants that were used by the likes of the Ryans and other criminal families. They went to Harvesters with the kids, for fuck’s sake. Lee was the family man, it was his joke name. Other criminals always asked after his kids because they knew it was his only other interest in life. He kept away from the lap dancing and the strip clubs. Everyone knew he had no interest in all that shit. He had thought he was going to keep his kids safe, keep Sheila safe with his actions. But now someone had moved the fucking goalposts and he had put all those he loved in danger. Whoever heard of family being targeted before? It was like a fucking nightmare.

  Now he had to contend with Sheila terrified out of her wits and holding it against him for the rest of their days. He knew that was what would happen, he knew her so well, especially with a belly full of arms and legs. She would be frightened for the new baby and the boys more than she would worry about herself.

  Sheila’s crying had brought four watchful pairs of eyes into the room with them. As he looked at the fear on his sons’ faces Lee felt for the first time what his own mother must have done all these years, how she must have felt burying her dead sons, and for the first time ever he understood her.

  Understood her hatred of their way of life.

  To lose his brothers was bad enough but if he lost any of his children he would never recover. He shrank under their clear-eyed gaze because he knew they had heard all that had been said between him and their mother.

  Sheila ran to them and cried, ‘Pack! Pack your bags now, we’re going to me mother’s.’

  She disappeared out of the room. As Lee watched her shepherd the kids up the stairs he had never felt so alone in his life.

  Billy and Maura stared at one another for long moments before he finally answered her question.

  ‘You won’t like this, Maura, I warn you, and as it is just a rumour I need you to promise that you won’t let on it came from me? I am telling you this as a favour between friends, no more.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘You’ve heard about Vic, I take it?’

  She could feel the fear coming off him in waves. She nodded.

  ‘Look towards Liverpool for the answers you want. Vic had dealings up there for a long time and he wanted what you’ve got.’

  He saw her face blanch.

  ‘You are joking, Billy?’

  He smiled gently.

  ‘Never been more serious in all my life. But remember, it never came from me.’

  Maura was stunned and Billy poured her another drink. As he placed it in her hand she said quietly, ‘Tell me what you know, from the beginning.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Please, Sheila, come back.’

  Lee could hear the desperation in his own voice as he beseeched his wife not to walk away from him. His mobile was ringing and he knew he should answer it. If he didn’t then Maura and the boys would think something had happened to him.

  Sheila stopped on the way to her Mitsubishi jeep to say sarcastically, ‘Answer the phone, Lee. Then you won’t feel so bad about us going, will you? Your brothers will want you, and you being you will have to do as you’re told.’

  It was the first time she had ever said anything like that to him and it hurt.

  ‘My work is my affair and you know that. We have never talked about it, especially not in front of the kids.’

  The reprimand in his voice was what angered her to say, ‘Your job has never intruded into our home before, has it? Even while I’m packing the car with clothes, I think someone might take a pot shot at us.’

  ‘Don’t be so fucking stupid . . .’

  They both stopped and stared as they realised that he had actuall
y sworn at her. Even the boys were shocked.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sheila. Please don’t leave me like this . . .’

  She climbed into the jeep with difficulty and without a word drove away from him.

  His phone rang again and he threw it to the ground and stamped on it, crunched it underfoot until it was just a small pile of plastic and microchips.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck . . .’

  He was still saying the word when Garry pulled up on the drive half an hour later.

  Tommy Rifkind lived in a large house in Chester, in the same turning as three Liverpool FC players and two well-known drugs barons. He loved it there. Gina, his wife of thirty years, had brought in an interior designer and the house now looked like something from a Space Age magazine. It wasn’t to his taste but he knew it had the desired effect when he entertained here.

  He also had a girlfriend called Simone, a half-caste girl with relaxed hair and doe eyes who was ready to marry him as and when he said the word. It wouldn’t happen, but she didn’t know that. His Gina was his best friend and life’s partner; she also had breast cancer, though no one else had been told. He adored her, and she adored him. Simone was just one of his diversions and Gina, a sensible woman, realised that a man of Tommy’s ilk needed a younger woman now and again and turned a blind eye. She was secure in the knowledge he would never leave her.

  Their only child, Tommy Junior, had not spoken to his father for over ten years, since Tommy had been up on an armed robbery and conspiracy charge. Tommy Junior, who had gone to university and become a chemist, had actually believed until then that his father was a businessman. He was now married to a nice girl and had two little boys. Tommy Senior only saw them because of Gina’s intervention, he knew that and loved her all the more for it. It was his constant lament that he gave his son a better start in life than he had ever had and the boy had thrown it back in his teeth.

  Tommy Senior’s illegitimate son by a woman called Lizzie from Toxteth was another kettle of fish; he was his father all over again. Only he didn’t have his father’s nous. He was a thug and this was something that grieved Tommy immensely. The boy was also called Tommy, but known as Tommy B due to his having his mother’s maiden name of Bradshaw. Gina welcomed him into their home, another thing Tommy Senior loved her for.

  As he watched his two grandsons splashing around in the indoor pool he was smiling. He shouted to his sidekick Joss Campion, ‘Try the little bastard again, will you?’

  Joss, a large man who looked like he should be in a Hammer Horror film, shrugged his massive shoulders.

  ‘I just did, still no answer.’

  Tommy looked puzzled.

  They walked through to one of the spacious lounges and as Tommy poured himself a drink he heard the front door being opened.

  He smiled at Joss.

  ‘At fucking last!’

  He turned towards the door and was shocked to see Maura Ryan standing there, framed like a painting. For a second he wasn’t sure who she was.

  ‘What . . .’

  ‘Hello, Tommy, long time no see.’

  Her voice had always had the power to make him falter. He had fancied her for years even if he was nervous of her. It was something about her. That coldness in her attracted him. He knew he was the same in many ways.

  Joss, always embarrassed around women, went bright red. Maura looked at him and smiled gently before saying, ‘Well, leave something on me, Joss, I might catch cold.’

  Tommy laughed, as did Maura.

  ‘What brings you up here then?’

  ‘How about a drink first?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Maura studied him. Even in his fifties Tommy was still a good-looking man, dark-haired and light-skinned though his eyes betrayed his heritage. His grandfather was a West Indian docker and it had come out in Tommy Rifkind in his eyes. He had a naturally elegant build, and liked to dress in handmade suits. Maura was sorry for what she had to do here this morning. She liked Tommy, always had. But this was family at stake and Tommy would realise what that meant.

  As he handed her a Scotch he said sadly, ‘Is this trouble, Maura?’

  She took the proffered drink and nodded.

  ‘I’m afraid so, Tommy. Big trouble.’

  Janine was still fighting for her life and Roy sat by her bed gently holding her hand. A bruised-looking Sarah was beside him, her rosary beads the only sound in the room other than the beeping of the monitors.

  Roy found her presence strangely comforting. It reminded him of when he was a kid and there was a thunderstorm. His mother would cover all the mirrors and close the curtains and the kids would all sit in the dark and say the rosary. It had driven Michael and Garry mad, but he had liked it. It had made him feel safe.

  Janine’s face was so pale and tired-looking, and deep inside he knew he had put every line on it. He felt such guilt as he watched over her, wishing he could take her place in the hospital bed so she would not have to be in pain. He felt protective of her for the first time in years.

  A nurse came into the room and broke the spell. He let go of his wife’s hand and stretched in the chair.

  ‘Go and have a coffee, I’ll watch over her for you, son. You need a break,’ Sarah said.

  He stood up gratefully.

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I appreciate all this.’

  Sarah shrugged.

  ‘Sure, wasn’t I always there for you all if you had only realised it?’

  ‘Shall I get you a cup of tea, Mum?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m getting too old for all this, you know. I won’t be long for the top, Roy, and to be honest I am looking forward to it. Your poor father, God rest him, at least has the comfort of his sons at peace with him.’

  Her voice was clogged with tears and Roy put his arms around her. Once more he was reminded of how old she was, how frail.

  ‘Can you imagine for one moment how I’ve felt over the years, son? Burying child after child, and not through illness, oh, no. My sons were murdered, butchered like animals, and I have to live with that knowledge every day of my life. Now look at Janine, look at the mother of your son, caught up in all this because even at your advanced ages you can’t be normal people. Can’t live like decent men and women. Benny is going the same way and I hope to Christ you never have to identify your own flesh and blood on a mortuary slab, that’s me prayer every day.’

  She looked back at Janine, her face closed now, and Roy walked from the room. But her words went with him as he went for the teas, as Sarah had known they would. She prayed as her son walked away from her.

  ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, make my son see the error of his ways. Let one of my children face Christ humbly and with the love of God in his heart.’

  Benny and Abul were pulled up on the A13 as they were driving towards the Canning Town flyover. They were stopped by two young policemen in a panda car. The PCs had plenty of attitude and trouble in mind. They were about to find out what happened when you came up against two like-minded individuals with positively no respect for authority.

  Benny pulled over while Abul flicked the joint butt from the window.

  ‘What can we do for you, officers?’

  Benny was taunting them with words and attitude and he knew it. More to the point, the two PCs knew it.

  ‘Get out of the motor.’

  Benny and Abul looked at one another in disbelief.

  ‘I beg your pardon? On whose authority are you making such a request? We were within the speed limit, we were driving carefully and we have our seat belts on. I want to know, as my democratic right, what you are pulling us over for?’

  Abul was already laughing. Benny’s accent when he was trying to be posh always cracked him up.

  ‘What are you fucking laughing at?’

  Abul stopped laughing immediately and the two PCs thought they had scored an important point. Then, as Benny and Abul undid their seat belts, they realised they had aggravation on their hands. Once out of the
car, the two men went straight to the boot, reappearing seconds later with baseball bats covered in duct tape.

  ‘After you,’ Benny said, waving one hand.

  Abul chuckled again.

  ‘No, after you.’

  The two men then set about the PCs with the baseball bats, loudly cheered on by passing motorists.

  Benny and Abul were doing bows to passing cars when DI Featherstone screeched to a halt next to them and told them in no uncertain terms to piss off out of it and stop showing off; he would take it from here. As one of their ‘friendly’ filth it was his job to act the ambassador and get the two injured men not to press charges.

  ‘You’d better sit down, Tommy mate.’

  Joss picked up the tremor in Maura’s voice and brought the whisky bottle over to the side table near them. He knew they would need it. The fact that Maura Ryan was here in Liverpool in person spoke volumes as far as he was concerned. He also had a good idea what she was here for as well, but he kept his own counsel.

  Tommy looked amazed when Maura, sitting beside him, grasped his hand and squeezed it.

  ‘I know exactly how you’ll be feeling in the next few minutes, I have been there. But remember, this isn’t personal, it’s just business. I didn’t want this but it has been taken out of my hands.

  ‘Your boy, Tommy B, brought guns and trouble into my family’s homes. Their fucking homes, for Christ’s sake! And it was for nothing, Tommy. Nothing. He has been the perpetrator of the death of partners, and I mean as in wives not business associates . . .’

  Tommy was shaking his head.

  ‘No, you’re wrong, Maura. He’s a little fucker, I admit that, but he ain’t got the fucking nous to take you lot on . . .’

  ‘Not the nous, no, but the heart. He certainly had that. I know how you are feeling, Tommy, but this has to be done. Even you must understand as much.’

  She watched the play of emotions on Tommy’s face and her heart went out to him.