The Good Life

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The Good Life Page 11

by Martina Cole


  ‘That’s Caroline all over – the big dramatic gesture. Now, though, she’s had a fright and hopefully it will sort her out once and for all. Do the doctors think she will ever get back on an even keel?’

  ‘With medication but, as far as I can see, that’s what sent her over the edge in the first place. To be honest, I really don’t know what to think, mate. But you are right, Johnny – I have to accept some of the blame. I caused this and now I have to deal with the fallout. I just never thought it would be so outrageous.’ He drank his whisky down in one. ‘What if that baby had died? And now look at Jenny – no more kids. She’s not eighteen years old and she has had to contend with this and it’s my fault. All my fault.’ He put his head into his hands in despair.

  Johnny Mac said half-jokingly, ‘Oh, Cain, for fuck’s sake, have a day off, will you? Can you hear yourself? You sound like you should be writing to Marjorie Proops! It’s happened, wipe your fucking mouth and get on with it. We have serious business to contend with and I can’t do it on my own, mate. Deep down you knew that you wouldn’t walk away from that mad bitch unscathed. It was hard, I admit, but you did it. Now you have to accept the consequences.’

  Cain Moran nodded his agreement, but he said sadly, ‘I know that, I ain’t a complete cunt, Johnny. But it’s my Jenny who has had to pay the real price.’

  Johnny Mac shrugged nonchalantly. ‘She is a lot stronger than you give her credit for, Cain. Anyone brought up by Eileen Riley has to be streetwise; it stands to reason, don’t it? You both got what you wanted, and that is an end to it. Now can we talk actual business?’

  Cain Moran grinned. ‘OK then, if you insist.’ He felt better already; trust Johnny to know exactly what he needed to hear. It was over – at least he hoped it was anyway.

  ‘One last thing, Cain, don’t scrimp on the divorce. It will backfire in the long run, and there is still little Michael to think about. You have made your point, now be magnanimous. It will be the last thing she is expecting and one day you will be glad you caved.’

  Cain didn’t answer him.

  ‘How is he anyway, my little godson?’

  Cain shrugged. ‘Dolly is doing a great job, but I know that I can’t ever bring him into Jenny’s life. That would send Caroline off her trolley again.’

  ‘Well, be fair – you would feel the same if the boot was on the other foot.’

  Cain saw the sense of what Johnny was saying but it still rankled. He loved his son – he loved both his sons. But Michael was Caroline’s only family after Dolly, and if he took him away from her it would be cruel. Now he had to live with the fact that he had walked out on Michael for Jenny and that was not something he had ever thought himself capable of.

  Johnny Mac saw exactly what was going through his friend’s mind; he knew him so well he could write the script for him. Cain needed to sort everything out for himself and this was Johnny Mac’s attempt at helping his old friend through a learning curve. He hoped it would work, because they really needed to focus on the business in hand. They had a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, and they needed to be keeping an eagle eye on their assets and workforce. Cain Moran had had his drama, and now it was over. Time to get back to reality.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  From the moment Jenny Riley had driven through the electric gates and seen the big old Georgian house she had fallen in love with it. It had been refurbished by the previous owners with no expense spared, and it sat in two acres of gardens with a swimming pool and tennis courts. She couldn’t believe it was actually theirs, and she kept walking around touching the walls to make sure it was real.

  Cain enjoyed watching the pleasure she took as she looked into each room. He had bought the place, furniture and all, offering well over the asking price to get it, but it was a good investment for their future and it got Jenny what she wanted: a home of their own. It was a wonderful property, but the real attraction was the ten-foot brick wall surrounding the place. With that and the electric gates, he knew Jenny would feel much safer. He sensed she wasn’t relaxing as she should, that she half expected Caroline to leap out from behind a lamp post or a bush. This place, he hoped, would give her the security she needed to finally let her guard down once more.

  The kitchen was huge, and he could imagine that Jenny was picturing them sitting down to dinner and being a family. Truth be told, that is exactly what he wanted too.

  ‘You like it, then? If you don’t like the furniture or whatever, just change it. I just wanted us to be able to move in as soon as possible, see? You do like it, darling, don’t you?’

  Her face split into a wide grin as she shouted excitedly, and with some of her old verve, ‘Love it? I fucking adore it. Oh, Cain . . .’

  Then she was crying, and he held her tightly to him, as he soothed her with loving words and stroked her beautiful hair. She was trembling and he hated that he had done this to her, made her a bag of nerves. But, as his mum said, she had just had a baby and been through a dreadful ordeal, and he needed to be patient with her. She would get over it eventually; these things just took time.

  ‘We will be happy here, darling, I promise you.’

  She nodded into his chest, and held on to him like her life depended on him. Which, in many ways, it did.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Michael and his mother sat in a park with his auntie Dolly and, as he played in the sandbox, he could hear his mother talking angrily and it frightened him.

  ‘Great big fucking house he’s bought her in Essex. Two acres of grounds – not gardens, mind – grounds. Just the thing for Eileen Riley’s daughter.’

  Dolly sighed heavily. ‘He’s promised you your house free and clear, in your name only. You won’t do too badly out of it all, considering. Don’t you think it’s time you just let him go?’

  There was a definite edge to Dolly’s voice and Caroline’s face revealed she didn’t like it one bit. ‘Never,’ she spat.

  Dolly shook her head; this was an argument they had almost daily. ‘Well, let’s get the lad back home, shall we? He’ll be ready for his lunch, I imagine, by now.’

  Caroline stayed seated on the bench and watched as Dolly went to tidy up Michael before putting him in the car. He was his father’s double but then, by all accounts, so was the new son. She felt the tightening of her belly as she thought of that whore’s child; if she had only managed to kick it out of her. How dare he humiliate her like he had! Who did he think he was?

  She would fight the divorce every step of the way. And, what’s more, she would wait, and she would plan, and when the time was right, she would take them down, and she would enjoy every second of it. It was what got her up in the morning, and what she thought of last thing at night. He wanted the Good Life, but she would make sure that it didn’t last for either of them.

  Smiling now, she stood up and went to her son and aunt.

  ‘Lunch. Good. I’m starving.’

  Book Two

  You won’t really fall in love

  For you can’t take the chance

  So please be honest with yourself

  Don’t try to fake romance

  ‘The Good Life’

  Music by Sacha Distel and lyrics by Jack Reardon

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  1988

  ‘Honestly, Johnny, I was flabbergasted myself. I mean, who would dare to intercept one of our shipments?’

  Johnny Mac was wondering the exact same thing himself. It didn’t make any sense.

  ‘How much did we lose?’

  Peter Parkes shrugged. ‘About a hundred grand’s worth. It was the take for Liverpool. You know they love their fucking Persian rugs up that end of the country.’

  Johnny Mac couldn’t believe how relaxed Parkes was being about this outrage. ‘This all happened at the services?’ he demanded.

  Peter nodded his head. ‘Yep.’

  ‘What guns were they using, just out of curiosity?’

  Peter Parkes seemed surprised at the question. ‘I don
’t know, Johnny.’

  Johnny Mac finally lost his temper then and bellowed, ‘Well, go and fucking find out!’

  When Peter had gone Johnny sat back in his chair and lit a cigarette, drawing on it long and deeply, seriously unimpressed with Parkes. It was a melon scratcher all right. Surely, there was no one that would dare rob off them. Not even the young, up-and-coming crews – plus they always put them on an earn, and that kept insubordination to a minimum. Everything felt wrong. Once he found out what weapons they had, he would call on the gun dealers and see who had purchased those particular models in the last few months, and that would narrow the search considerably. But it was such a blatant piss-take, and that was hard for him to bear.

  He picked up the phone to talk to Cain and see what his take on the situation was. He was in Spain with Jenny and Cain Junior, so he would not be best pleased to have his holiday interrupted. But needs must when the devil drives.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Cain Moran Junior adored his father, especially when he had his undivided attention like now. He was a natural water baby and loved nothing more than being in the swimming pool. He loved Spain and the sprawling Marbella villa that they called home while they were there. He was doing his best dives and his father was egging him on. He could see his mum Jenny lying on a sunbed reading, but he knew she was watching his more spectacular efforts.

  He loved this family time. In England his dad was nearly always out somewhere; he had a very important job. Cain Junior wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but it was important because his mum had told him so. Also, people were always especially nice to his dad, and he liked that as well.

  Jenny watched the two men in her life as they played together and she felt the usual contentment that being with her family gave her. She thanked God every day for this wonderful life of hers. She knew how lucky she was; Cain adored every bone in her body, and they were still, all these years later, as happy as they could ever be. They lived like royalty but, as Cain always joked, villainy was recession proof, so they didn’t have to worry like everyone else. It was these times that she loved the most, when they were alone and she didn’t have to deal with Caroline and her latest demands.

  She did feel sorry for young Michael; he was caught between a rock and a hard place, and it was difficult for him to have any real relationship with his father. It grieved Cain, she knew. Considering it was nearly ten years ago, for Caroline it was like it had all happened yesterday. She had been true to her word and fought the divorce for all she was worth. One day she’d agree if Cain gave her what she wanted; as soon as he did, she changed her mind or issued another demand. It was a never-ending battle.

  Throughout it all, Jenny remained the calm, gentle woman Cain had fallen in love with. No matter that she wanted to be his wife more than anything else in the world; she was determined to give Cain the peaceful life he had never had with Caroline. And, anyway, they belonged together; wedding ring or no wedding ring. Despite everything, Jenny felt blessed.

  She signalled to Rosa, her Spanish housekeeper, to set the table for lunch. It still amazed her that she had a housekeeper! Who would ever have dreamed that she would have such a wonderful life? It frightened her sometimes that at some point there would be a forfeit for this happiness. Her mum said it was just Catholic guilt and she should enjoy her life and fuck everyone else. That was a philosophy that seemed to work for Eileen Riley, but Jenny wasn’t so sure it would be the same for her.

  Ten minutes later, as they sat down in the shade to eat lunch, chatting about their day, the villa was rocked by a large explosion.

  In London at the same time, a bomb went off in their club in Wardour Street. There were no fatalities but that was put down more to luck than anything else.

  It seemed someone was sending them a message. The only question was, who?

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Jenny’s ears were still ringing even after they had arrived back in England, and she wondered if it was psychological. The shock of the explosion had really hit her hard. The terror in the aftermath of seeing her son with his hair covered in plaster and blood on his face was something she wouldn’t forget.

  She had never in her life been near such a thing as a bombing, not even when the IRA were at large in London. It was something that happened to other people, like car crashes or AIDS. It happened to people you saw on the news or read about in magazines. It didn’t happen to you or yours.

  But this time it had and, from what she had garnered listening to Cain’s phone calls, it was something that had been planned in detail to harm them. The London club bomb had gone off earlier than expected; it was supposed to have exploded much later when the club would have been packed with young people trying to have a good time. It was sheer luck, she supposed, that had tripped it so much earlier when there had been no one to harm.

  She felt sick; she was feeling like this a lot and she knew it wasn’t because she was pregnant again – that boat had sailed a long time ago. It was delayed shock the doctor said. Well, of course she was shocked! Someone wanted to kill them – that in itself was a frightening thought.

  Molly was waiting at the house for them. Cain had arranged for extra security and his friends in the bomb squad had swept the house and the other premises such as the club’s offices. But she was still nervous – suppose they had missed something? She swallowed down her fear once more, and accepted the mug of tea Molly had made for her.

  ‘Come on now, Jenny, you need to stop worrying. Cain has it under control.’

  Jenny looked up into Molly’s eyes and said seriously, ‘You think?’

  Cain Junior was sleeping with her and that was just how she wanted it; she didn’t want to let him out of her sight. She closed her eyes in distress as she heard Cain’s voice bellowing from his office – it was just off the kitchen and normally she couldn’t hear anything – but he was so angry, and it was a fury that she had never seen in him before. He was almost spitting his rage, and she knew it was because he could not believe that anyone would dare to interfere with him like this and, more to the point, involve his family. Family was off limits. They were civilians. They were the reason he would kill everyone involved in this debacle stone dead.

  He was screaming like a banshee now. She closed her eyes and tried to blot it out. For the first time in her life she wished for the death of someone and she felt bad about that. But she wanted whoever had tried to harm her family to die. It was a sobering experience.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Johnny Mac and Cain were in a small Portakabin in Manor Park; they had decided that it was probably the safest place for them to meet at this particular time. It was a recently acquired scrapyard which they had taken it over in exchange for a gambling debt. They had every intention of selling it on, but for now it seemed like a good little meeting place. Few of their workforce knew about it, and they had been compelled to recognise that whoever was behind these attacks had someone on their payroll giving them information.

  It was unbelievable, but it was a viable option they had to consider. It bothered them more than they cared to admit. They had always seen their workforce treated well, money-wise especially. So this would have to be a vendetta for whatever reason, real or imagined. Who did they have a barney with? No one they could think of and they had racked their brains. There was nothing or no one they had crossed in any way, shape or form. It was a fucking mystery all right.

  Cain poured them each a stiff drink, and settled himself behind the small makeshift desk. The nightwatchman and his Dobermans had been surprised to see them; Cain had slipped him an onner to keep the dogs quiet and alert them if anyone approached. The nightwatchman was thrilled with the extra couple of quid and was determined to do his best.

  Cain sipped his drink and said on a laugh, ‘Poor old fucker! He’s got to be eighty if he’s a day, and he is looking out for us. One fright and we’ll be paying his old woman compensation!’

  Johnny Mac laughed with him, glad that th
ey could at least joke about the situation, before he asked soberly, ‘How bad was the villa damaged?’

  Cain sighed. ‘Nothing we can’t sort out. It was a car bomb and not a very good one. Bit of a damp squib, to be honest, but it did some damage. If we had been eating inside though we would have been in trouble, put it that way.’

  Johnny Mac nodded. ‘How’s Jenny and the lad?’

  Cain shrugged. ‘Not good. She is a nervous type anyway, you know that. She loathes violence. Though being brought up by Eileen Riley, I know that sounds like a contradiction in terms.’

  They both laughed again.

  ‘What do you think, Johnny?’

  Johnny told him about the take being robbed and that there had been a few events that he had not really put any credence to.

  ‘The thing is, some of the people we take from on the weekly have complained that they have been approached by an outside party to pay them, not us. The people concerned told them to fuck off and that seemed to be the end of it. To be honest, I didn’t really give it much thought either way. Just some youngsters chancing their arms, you know? The usual. But now, I ain’t so sure. I think I should have investigated.’

  Cain grinned. ‘Well, hindsight is a wonderful thing. Why would you? Who in their right minds would take us on? I tell you now, Johnny, it can’t be anyone we deal with. This is someone inside our crew. It has to be. No one else could have the information needed to co-ordinate all this. The club alone has a better security system than the crown jewels. This is personal.’

  Johnny nodded; he could see the logic. But it still would take a better fucking man than any they had working for them.

  ‘Or, look at it this way: someone has infiltrated, recruited some of our better workers and got the information needed from them. Money is a powerful incentive, as we both know, Cain.’

 

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