by Martina Cole
Cain walked into the office as if he owned the place and Joe was amazed at the sheer size of the man. He seemed to fill the entire place with his bulk. It was all muscle too, old as he was, but that was all down to the gym in the nick. There was fuck-all else to do there, everyone knew that.
‘Joe. Good to see you, mate.’
Cain held out his hand and Joe Biggs shook it nervously.
‘Drop of Scotch?’
Cain laughed then. ‘Is the fucking Pope a Catholic, you cunt?’ He sounded jovial but there an underlying threat there that wasn’t lost on Joe Biggs.
Joe poured the drinks and handed one to Cain. ‘I hear you’ve become quite the chef in the nick. Every time I see an ex-con from Parkhurst all I hear about are your fucking cooking skills.’
It was said as a joke but the intended insult was evident. Cooking was women’s work as far as Joe Biggs was concerned.
‘It was the best thing I ever done. I am thinking of opening a restaurant, in fact.’
Joe Biggs was a bit taken aback at that and it showed. ‘I see. I wondered if you would be coming back into the Life . . .’
Cain held up his hands and the man stopped talking. ‘Look, Joe, I came here to tell you first that I am out of it all now and have been for a long time. After my boy . . . Well, let’s just say I’ve lost the heart for it. I promised my old woman that I would leave it all behind and that’s what I’m doing.’
He swallowed his drink down and held his glass out for a refill. Joe Biggs obliged without even thinking about it. Cain had a way of intimidating others even when he was being the nice guy, and he was using that to full advantage now.
He continued, ‘I took your brother out, and now you’ve taken his place down in the Smoke. You should know that I have a lot of friends here and in Manchester including your father-in-law, Graham Grange, who I have known for over forty years. Even in Parkhurst I heard that you’re handy with your fists where your wife is concerned and I will tell you now: the day your wife doesn’t want you any more is the day you die. Graham Grange loathes you but while his daughter is still enamoured, there’s nothing he can do. Make sure it stays that way. If you ever feel the urge to avenge your brother’s death, after he arranged my own boy’s murder, I will rip your fucking head off with my bare hands. Without Jason and Jack, you and your brother are worth nothing. If you are after payback I will come out of my retirement and I will hunt you down like a fucking dog. I will make it my purpose in life to fucking find you, torture you and kill you. You know I am capable of it, mate. I am just trying to avoid a confrontation here. So, are we good?’
Joe Biggs knew that he had just lost the fight, the war and any respect he might have had from Cain. He nodded his head. The last thing he wanted was this cunt on his tail, especially if he was an old mate of his father-in-law.
Cain swallowed down his drink and, standing up, offered his hand in a friendly gesture. ‘Let’s call it quits, shall we?’
Cain held Joe’s hand in a tight grip, reminding him of exactly who he was dealing with. He might be out of the Life, but he wasn’t completely out of the game; there was a big difference. With that he left the offices, whistling cheerfully, and got back into the car with young David Hannan, announcing in a pseudo-posh voice, ‘Home, James, and don’t spare the horses.’
As they drove away it occurred to Cain Moran that he would miss the buzz of the Good Life. But it was over for him now. He had a lot of making up to do with his wife, who had stood by him through everything life had thrown at them. If he had learned nothing else, he had learned to get his priorities right. It was a mistake he would never make again.
As Jenny opened the door to her husband, her heart was in her mouth. She couldn’t believe he was actually here for good. Cain walked into the flat and looked around, noting the place where his son had died. In spite of everything, Jenny had not been able to bring herself to leave their home where she had so many memories of her son’s life.
‘Come in, darling. Come through.’
After all this time they were both a little nervous of each other. He could have cried.
‘I redecorated throughout, Cain. I thought it would be nice for us to start afresh, you know . . .’
Throwing down his bag, he picked her up in his arms and carried her towards the bedroom saying, ‘Give us a quick flash and a bacon sandwich! I have waited a long time for this, girl.’ He kissed her hard and she responded as he knew she would.
Suddenly the door to the lounge opened, and his little grandson, Cain, threw himself against his legs.
Eileen, who was standing behind him, said archly, ‘You have waited long enough, you two, another couple of hours won’t fucking kill you.’
With that they walked into the room where all the people they loved had gathered together to welcome Cain home. He knew that, no matter what, they would be all right. They had a great love that had survived the worst life could have thrown at them. Even Molly was grinning her head off, and Linda was also there with her mum and dad. It was a real homecoming. What more could a man ask for?
As his son Michael came over and hugged him, Cain felt the first real sting of tears. They had lost and gained so much, and that was what the Good Life was all about. Looking around, Cain understood that he would never be a part of it again, and he felt content at that thought. He pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her again as everyone smiled and clapped.
Little Cain, his father and grandfather’s double, shouted, ‘Granddad’s kissing my nanny!’
Cain Moran and Jenny Riley knew that this was all they needed for the future. The worst was over; they just had to live the rest of their lives, together on the out. They had waited long enough for this, now it was time to enjoy it.