The Good Life

by Martina Cole

  ‘Scotch would be nice.’

  Jenny made them both stiff whiskies. As she handed Michael his glass, he smiled at her and she was reminded of Cain again.

  ‘Mum drinks as well, and on her medication that makes her even more erratic. She can appear more or less normal for months, and then something sets her off and . . . Well, you can guess the rest.’

  Jenny took a large gulp of whisky before saying, ‘To be honest, Michael, tonight wasn’t entirely her fault. My mother made an unfortunate remark about her weight.’

  He nodded solemnly. ‘So I hear.’

  Jenny Moran could not believe she was defending the woman who had caused her such heartache. But there was something about this boy that made her want to ease his burden. He seemed a genuinely nice guy.

  He looked at her sadly, before taking a deep breath and saying quietly, ‘How is he?’

  Jenny finished her drink and got up to refill both glasses. ‘He misses you, Michael, I know that much.’

  He looked into her eyes. ‘I know. Every now and then I salvage one of the letters he sends me. But you know the score with my mum – if she thought I was anywhere near him she would lose the last ounce of sense she still possesses. For years I hated him, but as I got older . . .’

  Jenny felt deep sorrow for this young man, left to cope on his own with that mad bitch. ‘It’s not too late, you know. He would be thrilled if you were to drop him a note.’

  Michael laughed then, bitterly. ‘According to my mum he wouldn’t want to hear from a fucking poofta. Her words not mine.’

  Jenny shook her head sadly. ‘That would bother him no more than it bothers me. He would be proud of you, knowing how well you have looked out for your mum. He’d just like to see you and know that you’re OK.’

  Michael Moran raised an eyebrow inquisitively. ‘You seem pretty certain about that.’

  She smiled. ‘That is because I am. He knows you’re gay, Michael. You can’t keep things like that secret for long. In his own way he has always kept an eye on you – through other people, of course. It’s what he is like.’

  ‘He knows?’

  Jenny nodded again. ‘It’s not a secret, is it?’

  He sighed heavily. ‘I suppose not.’

  Just then the men could be heard returning from the police station. Jenny Moran was thrilled at the thought of finally introducing her son to his older brother. It had certainly been a strange night.

  As the room filled with chatter, Eileen’s booming voice cut loudly across the group, ‘Truth is, Peter, Michael is as gay as a Mexican tablecloth.’

  Cain Junior closed his eyes in dismay and was about to apologise to his older brother when Michael piped up, ‘At least I don’t look like a fucking drag queen!’

  Everyone started laughing at that, and somehow the terrible night began to take a turn for the better.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five

  Cain Moran couldn’t believe the news about his eldest son. After all these years it was impossible to think that Michael might actually be back in his life. Though it was something he had prayed for, he had never quite believed it would happen. It seemed that Caroline’s hate and venom had forced her son away from his father. Now she had brought them back together again with that same hatred. The world was certainly a strange place.

  Cain didn’t care if his son was gay – that was Michael’s business. It wasn’t his place to express an opinion either way. All he wanted was for his son to be happy and if that meant being with another man then so be it. From what he could gather, it was Caroline who had the problem with it. She had convinced her son that his father would never accept him as gay, and that was something Cain would find hard to forgive. Cain may have done the dirty on her all those years ago but that should have been water under the bridge by now. Instead, Caroline had kept her hatred burning for all those years and it had affected Cain’s relationship with his own son. He would hold that against her for the rest of his life.

  As he showered and got himself ready for the day he felt a lightness he had not experienced in years. He had both of his sons in his life – what more could a man ask for?

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

  Michael Moran felt a deep sadness as he listened to his mother raving to the doctors and nurses as they tried to help her. Caroline was accusing them of trying to poison her, refusing to eat any food other than what her son brought in especially. She had been in hospital since the incident in the pub, and this was one of the worst of her episodes that he had witnessed. He hated to see her in such obvious distress. If she got wind of the fact that he’d gone behind her back and made contact with his father and extended family it certainly would have tipped her over the edge.

  He didn’t regret it for one moment though. Things were working out surprisingly well now that he had taken that first step. Michael liked Jenny Moran. Her calmness was soothing, and there were no histrionics or mind games; what you saw was what you got. His brother, Cain Junior, was nice too – and his girlfriend Linda was a very sweet girl. Eileen was a scream and Michael had really taken to her. His only disappointment was his grandmother, Molly Moran. He had guessed rightly that she wasn’t well thought of by the rest of her family, though they were scrupulously polite to her in person. There had definitely been some kind of altercation at one point or another – he would lay money on it.

  As he watched his mother cram food into her mouth, he leaned across and gently wiped her mouth. She seemed to think her son’s homosexuality was inherited from his father’s side of the family; she was forever pointing out there were no gays on her side. There were a number of mental illness cases, though, if what the doctors had told Michael was true. He sighed at the sadness of it all. If only she could take her tablets and stop drinking, her life could begin to take some sort of shape again. Some days she would be OK for a while and then it was like she went on a self-destructive bender – drinking all day, self-medicating, and eating a colossal amount. It was terrible to watch.

  He wondered what it would be like to visit his father in Parkhurst. He was nervous and excited all at the same time at the thought of it. He only wished he had bitten the bullet and got in touch sooner. It felt good to be around people who didn’t need looking after, and who were cheerful. Eileen Riley could make a cat laugh; she was always so upbeat about everything. Even when she referred to Michael’s mother as ‘the nut-job’ he couldn’t take offence. She said it in such a funny way, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had also met her a few times at the club she thought she ran. It was a sight to see: Eileen Riley in enough make-up to sink a battleship, lording it over everyone and loving every second.

  But it was his brother who Michael had really taken a shine to. Cain Junior had accepted him without a moment’s hesitation. He said he had always wanted to meet him and was thrilled that it had finally come about. They chatted about everything, discussing their lives and the different paths they had taken over the years. Michael had explained to Jenny that his mother’s condition – though not helped by his father’s desertion – had not been caused by it either. There was nothing she could do to stop it from happening to her; she was unstable, and there was a chemical imbalance in her brain. It was no one’s fault, but it was difficult to live with all the same. Jenny Moran told Michael she thought he was marvellous looking out for his mother as he did, and he had loved her for saying that.

  Later on he would be meeting his new-found brother for a few drinks, and he was really looking forward to it. His life had certainly taken a turn for the better. Now he just wanted his mother to get well enough to go back home, even if he had a feeling that might be a long way off. The staff at the hospital were very good, though, and they knew his mum from old. When he took leave of her this time she didn’t even acknowledge him, but he kissed her anyway.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

  Cain Junior and Jenny Moran were together in the Soho offices; this was where Jenny did most of her accounting fo
r the businesses they ran. The bets were booming and, the deeper the recession grew, the more people gambled. It was a strange but true fact. Everyone wanted a big payday and they wanted it fast. The clubs would always make money – that was a given – and other businesses were proficient earners all year round.

  As they sat chatting over a coffee, the talk inevitably came round to Michael Moran.

  ‘Your dad was thrilled to talk to him – he can’t wait to get a VO sorted so he can see him in the flesh.’

  Cain grinned. ‘He’s a really lovely bloke, Mum. He’s had a fucking life of it with his mum, hasn’t he? He’s so patient with her. I really do feel sorry for him.’

  Jenny shrugged. ‘It’s like he says: she can’t help it. I wish I had known that myself all those years ago. I hated her for what she did to me, but in a way I feel I deserved it. I mean, I took her old man away.’

  She was struggling to be fair, but it was hard. In the end Caroline Moran had taken far more away from Jenny.

  ‘I know all about it, Mum, Nanny told me everything. I can understand why you hate her.’

  Jenny sighed in annoyance. ‘Her and her fucking big trap! She should never have said anything.’

  Cain Junior smiled. ‘At least Michael doesn’t know. Mind you, he’s always hanging about with Nanny at her club so in all likelihood he will find out eventually. He calls her his drag nanny and she loves it.’

  Jenny laughed. ‘He fits in well, bless him, considering the circumstances. Is he seeing anyone at the moment? He is a good-looking man.’

  Cain Junior waved away the question. ‘I don’t ask him things like that. It’s his business, though he does mention a friend called Alan quite regularly.’

  Jenny laughed happily. ‘Good, he deserves to have someone in his life. I can’t believe how that poor fucker was brought up. Even his aunt Dolly took a step back years ago because she’d had enough.’

  Cain shrugged again. He was so like his father and Jenny felt a sudden sting of tears.

  ‘It’s clear that you’re brothers – you are both like the spit out of Cain Moran’s mouth! It’s lovely for me – a bit like having your dad back.’

  ‘You really miss him, don’t you?’

  Jenny smiled the tight little smile she always reserved for such questions. ‘I made my decision . . . I don’t regret it. I love your dad with everything I am and I must have him in my life. I know people think I’m a mug, but the heart wants what the heart wants. I am not saying it has been easy, but I have made a life of sorts for us.’

  ‘Mum, you are fucking awesome, and I really admire you. Linda loves the bones of you too. I can’t believe we are having a baby – it’s scary and exciting at the same time.’

  ‘You’ve got a good girl there; you look after her.’

  She meant every word she said – Linda was terrific. Jenny was so happy with her life at the moment; the only thing that could make it better was if her husband was back. But she was a realist, and had learned many years ago that it isn’t always possible to get what you want. She laughed at that. The Stones knew what they were talking about.

  ‘It’ll be Christmas soon. Just think, Cain, this time next year there will be a baby to celebrate it with!’

  Cain Junior laughed now in delight. ‘God, I never thought of it like that! I hope it’s a boy. I fancy myself as a footballing dad.’

  ‘It’ll be a while before you’re doing that, mate! I wouldn’t mind if it’s a little girl – I always wanted a daughter.’ There was a trace of sadness in her voice and, getting up from his chair, Cain Junior walked around the desk and hugged his mother tightly.

  ‘Well, if we don’t get one this time, maybe the next one will be a girl, eh? We like the idea of having a big family.’

  They were laughing now as Jenny said, ‘Well, just see how she goes after the first one. She might find she wants to wait a while before having any more!’

  ‘I expect you’re right, Mum. By the way, have you heard from Hasan or Ali Osman? I was supposed to meet them tonight for an update and I can’t get either of them on the phone.’

  Jenny shook her head, looking puzzled. ‘That’s not like Hasan. He’s usually a stickler for meets. Maybe something came up. He will be in touch though – don’t worry.’

  Cain picked up his car keys and kissed him mum on the cheek before walking out of the offices and heading back to his work.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

  Hasan Osman was a very worried man. His brother Ali was completely out of control and Hasan had no idea what to do about it. He pulled into the lot of his car dealership and rushed into the building, seriously afraid of what he might find.

  Ali was standing inside the dealership with the air of a mad man, his eyes blazing. He was surrounded by three men who were staring at the beaten and bloody figure on the floor in front of them. In his hand Ali held a large blood-stained wrench; he looked like something from a horror film. As Hasan took in the battered young man he sighed heavily. There was brain fluid leaking from his skull; Hasan hoped he’d died quickly. He went to his brother and gently took the wrench, then motioned for the men to clear the boy away.

  ‘Who was he?’

  The tallest of the three men answered quietly. ‘Zafar. He’s newly over from Izmir. A mechanic, with two little kids . . .’

  Hasan closed his eyes in distress. This was getting worse by the moment.

  ‘What the fuck were you thinking, Ali?’

  His brother was coming out of his daze and looked around as if he wasn’t sure where he was.

  ‘He was staring at me – fucking blatantly staring at me. Snidey cunt.’

  Hasan was beside himself with anger. ‘He was a fucking mechanic, Ali! A grease monkey. All of twenty-two years old and with a wife and kids he was trying to provide for. He was probably wondering if you were the full fucking ten bob. You look like a fucking mad man. When was the last time you slept?’

  Ali stared at his brother, his anger building up inside him. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are talking to? You might be my older brother but I’ve sussed you right out, mate. You and that fucking piece of shit Moran. I know exactly what is going on and I ain’t got to listen to anyone. I will do what the fucking fuck I want, when I fucking want. You and your fucking boyfriend can lick Jason Biggs’s arse all you want. Don’t mean I’m going to be doing the same.’

  Hasan was incensed with rage and frustration.

  ‘Listen to yourself, Ali! You just can’t get it into your thick fucking head that this is all for the best. Cain Moran is a shrewd man, and you would do well to listen to him occasionally. If he thinks Jason Biggs is worth cultivating then I think he is right. We might need him one day.’

  Ali started laughing. ‘Well, not me, Hasan. Not me.’ With that, he exited the building, leaving his brother to clean up his mess once more. Hasan had just about had enough of his brother’s antics and, following him outside, he called his name. When Ali turned to answer, Hasan Osman gave him the hiding of a lifetime.

  After he had finished, he pulled Ali up from the floor by the collar of his jacket and said to him angrily, ‘That was just a fucking taster. Get yourself sorted out and get off the fucking gear. Until you do, I don’t want to see you. Now fuck off home and have a fucking wash – you stink.’

  As Ali began to wipe the blood from his eyes, Hasan added quietly, ‘Oh, and one last thing, bruv, you better sort out compensation for that poor cunt’s wife and family. Fucking staring at you! Are you completely fucking stupid?’

  The disgust in his brother’s voice was worse than the physical beating Ali had just been given.

  Hasan Osman went back into the building and started to organise the clean-up operation. This was the last thing he needed today: a needless murder by a brother who had lost himself to drugs. How he was going to hush this up he didn’t know, but money usually had a funny way of shutting mouths. He was so disappointed in Ali. If push came to shove, he would have to take his brother out pers
onally. The way Ali was carrying on, it was only a matter of time before someone would take it upon themselves to do the dirty deed. At least Hasan would do it humanely.

  Ali was an accident waiting to happen, and if this little lot didn’t make him come to his senses, then sooner or later someone else would.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine

  Jason Biggs was at his latest girlfriend’s flat in Manchester city centre. She was a game bird this one, a bit older than his usual squeezes, but there was definitely something about her. Maybe it was her experience. She was up for literally anything and – more to the point – she enjoyed it as much as he did. She was also argumentative and, after the act was finished, she liked a cuddle and a bit of a chat. What she didn’t appreciate was him having to get dressed and go home when it was all over; she didn’t quite understand this part of shagging a married man. At least not when it suited her.

  He was anticipating the fight of the night as he prepared himself to leave and, when his phone rang, he answered it quickly. It was his brother, Jack, calling to arrange a meet for later that evening. They would be seeing a crew from Liverpool who wanted to put a proposition to them. He arranged to meet at his club before putting the phone away.

  Lorraine was lying naked on the bed, watching him distastefully. She had amazing eyes that could flash from bright blue to a steely grey in nanoseconds.

  ‘Come on, Loll, you heard me. I have a meet to get to.’

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Jason Biggs pulled his trousers on as quickly as was humanly possible. He knew she had a penchant for throwing objects and the last thing he needed was a fucking dirty great cut-glass ashtray winging its way towards his head – she had good taste, he’d give her that. Biggs wasn’t silly, there was no way he was going to chance a shower; he would have one at the club before the meet.

  Lorraine sat up, lighting the remains of a joint and, as the hot cinders fell on to her naked breasts, he had to suppress a laugh. She jumped off the bed trying desperately to put them out; hardly the sophisticated look she’d been aiming for but he didn’t mention anything. She wasn’t stoned yet, and that meant she was still capable of a punch-up if the fancy took her.