by Martina Cole
Now Jane was lying dead and her daughter had lost not only the real constant in her life, but also the only person who could actually keep her under control. Caroline Moran had suffered the worst blow of all. And she was not handling it well.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Well, Elvis, we did see this coming – we thought it would just have been Micky Two Fags who tried his hand. I admire Jimmy, though, for going to the main players. It displays a cunning I didn’t think he possessed.’
Elvis shrugged at Cain’s words. ‘He’s a cunt. Micky’s bad enough, but Jimmy Boy? He is like a leech, you know? Sucks the life out of everyone around him.’
Cain and Johnny nodded in understanding.
‘So we’re all getting shot, are we?’ Johnny Mac’s voice was full of humour at the thought and Cain laughed with him.
Elvis was nervous but it didn’t show. He had come to them to prevent a bloodbath, but it wasn’t just because he liked these men. Elvis was interested in keeping the peace and keeping hold of what he had. He had an ulterior motive though – one he felt Cain Moran and Johnny Mac would understand. He was already willing to give up fifty per cent of his club – why wouldn’t he? He would get his money back and more besides. He was also the supplier of most of the puff in the South East so, in many ways, it would benefit him in the long run.
‘It seems we need to take out Jimmy Boy and those ponces Richie and Micky. On the upside, I don’t think Lily Law will be investigating their disappearance, which is exactly what must happen, I think. They need to disappear. The others concerned aren’t cunts. They realise the significance – and they won’t be offered the fifty per cent ownership after this little display of temper, that’s for sure. I’ll take the clubs off them and teach them a valuable lesson in life: never bite the hand that feeds you.’
Johnny nodded his agreement. ‘I have just the place for them, Cain. I know a geezer who has a business providing industrial acid. He’s into us at the bookies for a good wedge. What better way to get rid of them permanently?’
‘Sounds perfect, my old mate. That’s that sorted then. I’ll get a few lads to pick them up and you arrange the rest.’ Cain looked at Elvis and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, you did the right thing. I can’t see this as grassing on your mates – none of those ponces are anyone’s mates. Except I always liked Denny Gunn. I’m glad he agreed with you on the best step to take. He is a hard old fucker. But Jimmy was always his own worst enemy.’
The phone on his desk rang and he picked it up quickly. ‘All right, all right, calm down, Caroline. I am on my way now . . . For fuck’s sake, darling, I swear I am on my way . . .’ Cain stopped and looked at Johnny. His face had lost all its colour, and Johnny was immediately on red alert.
‘What’s up, Cain?’
Cain shook his head in amazement as he said seriously, ‘It’s Jane, Caroline’s mum. She’s dead. Totalled her motor on the A13.’
All three men were silent for a few seconds before Johnny Mac jumped up and said, ‘Come on, mate. I’ll drive you home.’
Cain waved him away saying quietly, ‘No. You set the other stuff in motion. The sooner those three go on the missing list the better. I’ll call you later, all right? I want to see those fuckers grovel, and watch them as they die. It’s the cheekiness I can’t fucking abide, the sheer gall of it.’
Listening to Cain Moran, Elvis Munro felt the relief of a man who had just dodged a bullet. Which – if they were all being honest – is exactly what he had done.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Caroline Moran was heartbroken, and even Cain had to admit that this display wasn’t her usual posturing − she was genuinely grieving. His own mum Molly was doing the best she could, but the relationship between his mother and wife had never been that strong. Molly was happy enough taking care of little Michael though, and that was a big help.
Caroline had never looked after that child for a full day on her own since he was born − it was like Jane lived with them. But that had suited Cain because it gave Caroline company when he wasn’t there. As he took his wife in his arms he wondered what the future would hold for them now. Even at this moment, with her grief so raw and her needing him more than ever before, he was comparing her to his Jenny. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help it.
Jenny had got under his skin like no one else and that was dangerous even as it was reassuring; she was a very calm person and, after the frenetic way of living with Caroline, it was nice to feel so unfettered. With Caroline it was all about her, what she needed, what she wanted. Jenny, on the other hand, wanted nothing from him except his company. He could feel her love for him and it was like a balm − so uncomplicated and easy.
As if she could sense his thoughts, Caroline pulled herself from her husband’s arms and, stomping into their en suite bathroom, she slammed the door so hard it was a wonder it didn’t come off the hinges. Cain sighed heavily. This was going to be difficult, but he had known that from the off. She would milk this for all it was worth.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Molly Moran had put her little grandson to bed and was adding the finishing touches to a stew she had made for the next day. It was very late and, much as her heart went out to her daughter-in-law, she was honest enough to admit she found it very hard to like the girl. Caroline looked down on her and that was evident.
Now her mother Jane had been a different type altogether. How she had raised that obstreperous mare was anyone’s guess, but in fairness to the dead woman, she had done her best. God made the back to bear the burden, as her own mother used to say, and there was a certain truth to it. Although you would need a broad back to put up with that mare up the stairs! She blessed herself at her unchristian thoughts at such a time, but her daughter-in-law would try the patience of Saint Job himself. Even her mother’s death was all about her and not the poor woman scrambled to death in her car, dying on the roadside like a hedgehog. Not that she would say any of this, of course − she didn’t want to cause complete Armageddon in the household.
Molly heard her son coming down the stairs and poured him a generous glass of whisky − he would need it. She topped up her own glass and, seeing him enter the kitchen, she smiled at him happily. Cain hugged her as she sat in her chair. He loved the smell of her − a combination of Avon perfume, fags and her own particular sweet aroma that always took him back to his childhood. He sat opposite her and raised his glass in a silent toast.
‘How is she?’
He shrugged. ‘The usual.’
Molly sighed. ‘It’s a hard time for her, son, to be fair she’s just lost her mother . . .’
He nodded his agreement. ‘I know, Mum. How’s the little man?’
Molly perked up at the mention of her grandson. ‘Oh, he’s all right, son. A gorgeous little fella, and clever as a bag of monkeys. Reminds me of you when you were a boy.’
Cain smiled his thanks, and swallowed his drink in one mouthful. She immediately poured him another.
‘I’m sorry, Mum, for the way she treats you.’
Molly flapped a perfectly manicured hand at him. ‘Oh, you don’t need to apologise, son, she’s a funny fecker and no mistake. I don’t know what you saw in her,’ she said bitterly, ‘but she does love you, you know.’
He sighed once more. ‘To be honest, Mum, that’s the trouble.’ He closed his eyes in distress. ‘That girl I told you about? For the first time ever I can’t fuck and run. I have never felt like this before, not even about her upstairs.’
Molly leaned across the expensive glass-topped table and grabbed her son’s hand in hers. ‘Don’t make any decision yet, son. Some things need to be thought through long and hard.’
He had told her about this Jenny, but she saw now it was more than a passing fancy. This would cause untold ructions if it was to come out − especially with everything going on. It grieved her that he had inherited her own capacity for loving too much. If truth be told, that was her only real mistake in this life − loving people too much. An
d the wrong people. Always the wrong people.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jenny knew that Cain’s wife needed him and she was happy enough to take a back seat for now. What had thrown her was this visit now from his mother. She let her into the flat, pleased that it was clean and tidy and her own mother wasn’t in. Thank God for small mercies.
Cain made sure her mum had a regular income nowadays and that had lightened Jenny’s burden considerably. It meant that there wasn’t the continual shortage of money that caused Eileen to become so erratic, and it also meant there was less chance of strange men being there in the mornings. He had promised Jenny a flat of her own too, but she would wait and see if that materialised.
What he didn’t seem to realise was that she didn’t want anything from him − she never had. She was happy just being with him − that was more than enough for her. She felt at times, though, that it wasn’t enough for him, that he was the one who wanted more.
Now here was his mum on her doorstep and she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to react. She brought Molly through to the lounge and offered her a seat. Jenny had never been so nervous in her life; when Molly had introduced herself on the doorstep she had almost fainted with fright. Cain’s mother was here, asking if she could talk to her.
Molly looked at the beautiful girl before her and wasn’t surprised that her son was infatuated with Jenny. Not only did she have a very calming way about her that was attractive in itself, she was utterly exquisite − that was the only word − and those eyes would make any man fall off the wagon, so to speak.
Molly sat down on the battered old sofa, and smiled at Jenny’s palpable anxiety. ‘Sit down, child. If I was here for a row it would have been well on by now.’ She smiled to take the edge off her words and saw the girl physically relax.
Jenny decided she liked Cain’s mother even if she had come to read her the riot act. She would just accept whatever the woman had to say − what else could she do?
‘Would you like a cup of tea or something?’
Molly nodded happily. ‘That would be grand.’
She followed Jenny into the little kitchen and watched the girl carefully as she prepared a tray for their tea. She almost felt the urge to cry at the sight of this child − because that is all she was − trying to make things look nice. A tea tray in a house like this! It showed her mettle if nothing else. This was a girl who wanted more out of life. Molly knew about the mother, but who was she to judge? After all, she hadn’t been much better in her heyday.
The quiet wasn’t menacing like it was with Caroline. Jesus, she could be in the house an hour before an offer of a drink came her way. Caroline loved everything about her husband except her − his mother. Caroline tolerated her − that was the best word she could use for her daughter-in-law’s treatment of her. If it wasn’t for Cain bringing that poor child round to see her she would never lay eyes on him. That would suit Caroline; the ex-prozzy granny was best right out of the picture. But she would learn you have to get on with your life as best you could, especially now she had lost her mother. Jane Harding had been a lovely woman, and where she got that awkward bastard from was anyone’s guess.
Jenny placed the tea tray on the table, and suddenly Molly felt a great tenderness for her.
‘Do you take sugar?’
She was gentle, elegant even. Jenny was in the wrong life − if she had been born into money there was nothing she couldn’t have achieved, Molly thought.
Settled with the tea, Molly sipped hers and said sadly, ‘Caroline’s mother died last night. Car crash, God rest her immortal soul.’ She crossed herself instinctively.
‘That’s awful. I am so sorry to hear that.’
‘Well, I’m here to tell you that your man, Cain, will need to be there for her. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
Jenny nodded almost imperceptibly. ‘Of course I do. I hope she is OK. It must be terrible to lose your mum like that.’
Molly agreed. ‘Died on the hard shoulder, she never stood a chance. But, you see, Caroline isn’t taking it well − that’s understandable – but she has a very temperamental nature, if you get my drift.’
Jenny smiled diplomatically; everyone knew about Caroline Moran’s temper and her snobbery. She didn’t come from much − certainly no better than anyone else – but she acted like she had been born into the nobility.
For all her faults, Caroline was still her son’s wife, and that meant Molly had to do right by her, even if the woman was like a thorn in her side. She had been Cain’s choice and now he had to live with that − and, unfortunately, so did she.
‘Did he send you round here?’ There was desolation in the girl’s voice.
Molly shook her head. ‘He told me about you, Jenny. I came to try and make you understand that you need to let them be for a while. Caroline has had a terrible shock to her system, and she will need to be handled carefully. She’s grieving.’
Jenny swallowed down her disappointment. ‘Of course. I understand. How is Cain?’
Molly smiled at the question. It changed her whole face, and Jenny caught a glimpse of the woman’s past beauty.
‘Well, he’s got his hands full with everything that’s going on, and little Michael is only four so he doesn’t understand his nana’s gone. He saw her every day of his life. That’s what will be so hard for Caroline, you see. Jane was not just her mother, she was her only real friend. They were very close.’
Jenny sipped her tea daintily, unable to believe that Cain’s mother was sitting opposite her and chatting as if this was normal.
‘I hope everything goes OK for her.’
Molly smiled and grabbed the girl’s slim hand in her own. ‘He does care about you, Jenny. Too much, if truth be told. But give them this time, child. He has enough on his plate as it is.’ Then smiling to take the edge off her words, she said brightly, ‘I don’t live far away, you can come and visit with me. How would you like that?’
Jenny smiled a wide heartfelt smile. ‘I’d love that, Mrs Moran.’
Molly gave a loud hearty laugh. ‘Jasus, child, I was never married in my life! Molly will do fine.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
Caroline had finally been sedated, and Cain had left her with her aunt. Dolly Harding had never married − and not for want of trying. She had the face of angel and the mouth of a docker. Like her niece, she was of a temperamental nature and could have a fight in an empty house. She had a heart of gold though, and she was devastated by her sister’s death. She loved Caroline like she was her own child, and she adored little Michael.
As much as he knew his wife needed him, Cain had other fish to fry. Business needed to be attended to and he was determined to see that it was sorted out sooner rather than later.
It didn’t stop the feelings of guilt though. He could still hear her now: ‘Don’t leave me, Cain. This house is too big to be alone in.’ He had nearly told her she shouldn’t have bought the fucking thing then, but he didn’t. He had given her sleeping pills and left promising that he would return as soon as. Strangely enough, she had believed him. She knew that even he wouldn’t be that callous − not at a time like this.
Trouble was, she irritated him now. Being in her company was a chore for him, and he resented her. It was like everything she did drove him up the wall. He knew that was unfair, because she had done no wrong. But his mind was full of young Jenny, and he couldn’t help himself when it came to her. She was like a mania with him and he couldn’t understand why. He had never felt like this before about a woman, and it was an alien, uncomfortable experience. He had always put his life into boxes; Caroline, God love her, had been one of those boxes.
When they were first together he had relished the big explosive fights − and the even more explosive making up. Now it just depressed him. She was high maintenance and her jealousy, which had previously been a reminder of her love for him, now just got him down. They had built a good life for themselves, but he had always been aware that it
was his capability to give her that good life which was his real attraction for her. Their marriage was the complete opposite to the life she had come from, and she strived to get more and more possessions, believing all the hype that you needed the latest fridge freezer to be happy, or the newest style of shoes. She loved him in her own way, but her love was like being in a war zone.
He hated himself for his disloyalty to her, but he couldn’t help it. Jenny was like a breath of fresh air in comparison − not that she was that much of a pushover, oh no. She was a realist, as young as she was, in a way that Caroline would never be. Jenny accepted her role and was just glad to be there with him. There were no histrionics if he couldn’t make it, or he was late. She didn’t ask him for anything either, and that alone was a new concept for him.
Sometimes when he came home and saw Caroline leafing through catalogues, looking for another expensive must-have, he felt the urge to brain her. He went along with it because it not only kept the peace, but also because it was easier to give in and avoid the drama.
Caroline judged his love for her by what he spent on her; Jenny just loved him. There was a big difference.
Caroline would take it hard if he left. More than anything she craved the prestige of being married to him and a divorce would turn into a knock-down, drag-out fight.
He slowed his car, amazed at the thoughts he was having of the consequences of divorce. He shook himself mentally, admonishing himself that he had a young son he adored, and who adored him. He had a good life with his wife and child, even if it was often fraught with contention; that was part and parcel of his Caroline.
Still, it had thrown him that he had even considered the possibility. Caroline would cut his nuts off and send them to him first class through the post if she knew what he was thinking. One thing was certain: Caroline Moran was not a woman who would easily be scorned.