The Good Life
Page 1
About the book
THE BEST THINGS IN LIFE ARE NEVER FREE.
Cain Moran wanted Jenny Riley more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything before in his life. But loving Jenny Riley was the easy part; it was telling his wife he wanted a divorce that was going to be the killer . . .
Jenny is not just any girl. She cares nothing for Cain’s hard-man reputation – she just wants to be with him.
But Cain is not a free man. And he’s about to find out that when his wife Caroline said ’til death us do part, she meant it.
When Cain is sentenced to life in prison it seems that Caroline might have got her wish. All Cain and Jenny know is that if their love can survive such separation, then one day they will have a chance at the Good Life together again.
But there are greater trials ahead than either can foresee. They’re about to learn the hardest lesson of all:
LIVE THE GOOD LIFE. PAY THE PRICE.
About Martina Cole
Martina Cole is the acknowledged queen of crime drama. Her most recent novel, Revenge, was a No. 1 bestseller in hardback and paperback and is one in a long line of No. 1 bestselling and phenomenally successful novels she has to her name.
Several of Martina’s novels have been adapted for the screen, most recently The Take and The Runaway which were shown on Sky 1 to remarkable reviews. In addition, Two Women and The Graft have been adapted for the stage; both were highly acclaimed when performed at the Theatre Royal Stratford East, which also staged Dangerous Lady in 2012, celebrating twenty years since Martina’s debut novel was published.
Martina Cole is a phenomenon. She continues to smash sales records with each of her books, which have sold in excess of thirteen million copies in total. In 2011 Martina surpassed the £50 million sales mark since records began and was the first British female novelist for adult audiences to achieve this.
Martina’s hard-hitting, uncompromising and haunting writing is in a genre all its own – no one writes like Martina.
Praise for Martina Cole:
‘A blinding good read’ Ray Winstone
‘Intensely readable’ Guardian
‘An extraordinarily powerful piece of family drama’ Daily Mirror
‘Gritty novel from an author who knows intimately the world she writes about’ Express
‘Her gripping plots pack a mean emotional punch’ Mail on Sunday
‘Cole has the amazing talent of making characters appear larger than life’ Sun
Copyright © 2014 Martina Cole
The right of Martina Cole to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
‘The Good Life’
Music: Sacha Distel
French lyrics: Jean Brousolle
English lyrics: Jack Reardon
With the authorization of Prosadis
This Ebook edition was first published by Headline Publishing Group in 2014
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN: 978 1 4722 0098 3
Cover credit © Bernd Vogel/Corbis
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
www.headline.co.uk
www.hachette.co.uk
Contents
Title page
About the book
About Martina Cole
Praise
Copyright page
Also by Martina Cole
Dedication
Prologue
Book One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Book Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Book Three
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-One
Chapter Ninety-Two
Chapter Ninety-Three
Chapter Ninety-Four
Chapter Ninety-Five
Chapter Ninety-Six
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Chapter One Hundred
Chapter One Hundred and One
Chapter One Hundred and Two
Chapter One Hundred and Three
Chapter One Hundred and Four
Chapter One Hundred and Five
Chapter One Hundred and Six
Chapter One Hundred and Seven
Chapter One Hundred and Eight
Chapter One Hundred and Ten
Chapter One Hundred and Eleven
Chapter One Hundred and Twelve
Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen
Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen
Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen
Book Four
Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-One
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Three
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Five
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-One
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Two
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Three
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine
Chapter One Hundred and Forty
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-One
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Two
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Eight
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-One
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Two
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Three
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Four
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Five
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Six
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Seven
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Eight
Epilogue
By Martina Cole and available from Headline
Dangerous Lady
The Ladykiller
Goodnight Lady
The Jump
The Runaway
Two Women
Broken
Faceless
Maura’s Game
The Know
The Graft
The Take
Close
Faces
The Business
Hard Girls
The Family
The Faithless
The Life
Revenge
The Good Life
For my beautiful granddaughter Natalia Noonie Whiteside,
her nanny’s little Maget!
Thanks to Yvonne and Osman – you were absolute stars.
PS It should have been me.
No cravats please!
For Canim Boo.
Prologue
There is love of course. And then there’s life, its enemy.
Jean Anouilh
Jenny woke up early. She lay in her bed for long moments, savouring the warmth before suddenly remembering why she was so anxious. Today was the day she had been waiting for for a long time. Now it had finally arrived, she wasn’t sure how it was going to go, what to expect and whether, at the end of it, she would regret the choices she had made all those years ago. She felt physically sick, wondering if she had made the right ones. Truth be told, she was terrified − terrified but also excited.
She stroked her body, feeling the softness of her skin, cupping her breasts which were still full even without the firmness of youth. The last time he had held her felt like a dream. She had always been so in love with him she had felt it was like a mania. Cain Moran had been everything she had ever wanted. He still was − but would he feel the same after so many years away from her, away from the real world? Would he still carry the guilt over the brutal death of their boy, his namesake? Would it always be there between them?
She missed her boy every day; it was like a vicious wound that never completely healed. A song, a word, an image, brought the pain back in seconds, each time bigger and more heart-breaking than before. She knew it had to be discussed, finally be put to bed, but it wasn’t a conversation she was looking forward to. In the prison it had been too difficult to talk openly about it, and at the funeral there had not been time to discuss it properly. They were both so full of grief, so full of heartache. Even though they had spent one precious night together, and he had done murder for her that day, part of her had held a grudge for what he had cost her. Would they get past it? Could they really take up their lives again after all this time?
Well, tonight she would know the answers. She got out of her bed and went through to her kitchen. As she put the kettle on she looked out of the window; dawn was breaking and lighting up the sky. How different her view was now from when she was a girl growing up on an East London council estate. In those days, there was no escape from looking into other people’s homes and lives, as they had looked into hers. She had watched so many petty dramas play out: fights, arguments, police raids, lovemaking and, of course, children of all ages playing and living their lives as best they could − as she had herself. A drunken mother and a father she had never once clapped eyes on didn’t make for the greatest of upbringings.
But then she met Cain Moran and everything had started to make sense to her. She had fallen for him in such a big way, and he had been her life ever since, even though he had not been an actual part of it for many years.
She had lost so much − her only child, her youth − but while she had Cain – or the promise of him − she had been able to cope. Now, faced with the reality that he was finally being released, the fear had set in. Would he find her old? Would he feel the need for a woman with less baggage and tighter skin, who still had the freshness of youth on her side? Because he could easily find one. Men like Cain Moran were magnets to certain women − she knew that better than anyone. Twenty-five years was a long time to be apart, but it had passed. That was the thing − eventually the time did pass and, now it had, Jenny prayed that Cain would still want her as she wanted him. Because, God, how she wanted him.
Caroline Moran was tall, heavy breasted and dangerously fat. She loved her food and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it − she was always eating something. People seeing her now for the first time in years would be amazed at the change. As a young woman she had been magnificent − long dark hair, hazel eyes and a slender body with curves in all the right places. She had been a head turner in every way.
Now, as she sat in her transport café, eating a huge fried breakfast, shovelling the food into her mouth, her son Michael watched her with distaste. She was colossal but no one had the guts to mention it any more; it was pointless anyway − she just lost her rag. Food was Caroline’s only pleasure, and she wouldn’t listen to any kind of criticism or warning about her health. As far as she was concerned she was fine; Michael had learned long ago not to rock that particular boat. The strange thing was, she still looked after her skin and her hair. Her make-up was always perfect, her nails manicured, and painted her signature red. If she dropped the weight, no doubt she would still be the beautiful woman she once was.
Caroline finished chewing her food before saying aggressively, ‘So, God Almighty is coming home today, is he?’
Michael nodded. Taller than average, with thick dark hair and deep blue eyes, he had the handsome, Irish look about him just like his father. He couldn’t disguise their similarity in looks which he knew must be hard for his mother. She loathed his f
ather, a man who had dumped them without a backward glance when he had found something better.
‘Are you going to be OK, Mum?’
Caroline snorted. ‘Fuck him! He means nothing to me, the two-faced filthy rat. He made his choice − for all the luck she brought him! I told him that God pays back debts without money, and look what happened. It all went wrong for him when he met her.’
The venom in her voice wasn’t lost on her son; he knew that no matter what she said, deep down, she still loved the man. It was the weakness of women. There had never been another man for her and at first it had not been for want of suitors. They had come thick and fast. She had had a lot to offer − not just in looks, but because she was also very well set up. A good businesswoman, she had revamped this café, turning it into an American-themed diner, even down to the red leather booths and iconic Wurlitzer. The place was always packed − not just with the usual lorry drivers, but also with families who came there to drink in the atmosphere and enjoy the excellent food. And the food was top notch − Caroline made sure of that.
Caroline buttered more toast and spread it thickly with jam. Taking a large bite, she chewed it thoughtfully for a few seconds, before saying seriously, ‘I bet you he comes to see me. I bet you he can’t help himself and, when he does, I am going to tell him a few home truths.’ She sounded almost pleased at the prospect, and Michael Moran simply sighed, resigned to her delusions.
David Hannan had been up since the dawn, and he sat nursing a pot of coffee until it was time for him to leave. He was thrilled to be the one chosen to pick up Cain Moran − the man was a legend! He had been banged up for years, but before that he had been one of the hardest men in the Smoke, amassing a fortune that no one seemed able to find. He was David’s idol growing up, and his father had told him many a story of the man’s heroic exploits.
In honour of the occasion his suit was freshly cleaned, and his shirt and tie were brand new. He knew he looked good − a keen body builder, he took care of himself in every way. The birth of his first child – a little girl called Mae − had given him an added impetus to do well for himself. Today he’d be in receipt of a big wedge for a few hours’ work. Even so, he was nervous. After all, a man changed after years behind the door. It was only natural, David supposed. Away from family and friends, living in a vacuum, it must have been hard. Even in the poke, Cain Moran’s legend had still grown. The man had thwarted two attempts on his life, and each time he had come out on top. Not an easy thing in such a controlled environment, especially one ruled, more often than not, by the people incarcerated there in the first place.