The Life

Home > Mystery > The Life > Page 9
The Life Page 9

by Martina Cole


  She looked at her mother then, and knew that her mother saw that she was not just in love with Delroy, she was consumed by him.

  ‘I can’t help it, Mum. I just know that without him I would die.’

  Ria smiled sadly. ‘Listen, love, we all felt like that at the beginning, but I can tell you now, if you don’t learn how to manage your emotions, he will run for the hills, baby or no baby. He is not stupid, Imelda. Eventually he’ll know that he can never live up to your expectations – no one could, darling. You want him within your eyeline day and night. I’ve watched you, seen the way you watch him, and my heart has broken for you. But I am finally saying what I’ve wanted to say for so long. If you don’t learn to step back, you’ll drive him away from you. You knew he was a ladies’ man, you knew he was a villain, you knew everything about him, and you still wanted him anyway. Fuck knows, you were determined to have him. You got what you wanted, now you need to learn to be content with that. Because I’m telling you, darling, there ain’t a man on earth, or a woman for that matter, who could take that much loving. Marriage is a partnership, and to keep it going you have to look away sometimes, make a point of not asking the questions you want to ask. And you have to be honest with yourself first, and ask only if you really want to know the answers.’

  Imelda knew that her mother was right. She was warning her, was trying to tell her what she already knew – that she had to somehow control these feelings that she had for Delroy, and stop the overpowering love she had for him, before it destroyed their marriage completely. ‘I know you’re right, Mum, and I know I need to calm down, and I will try. But it’s like I’m possessed sometimes. I can hear myself shouting and raving, and I know it’s wrong, I know I am irrational. But it’s like someone else is doing it, and I hate myself for it.’

  Ria hugged her daughter, and wondered again at how this girl who had always been a sensible head, who had always been the most reasonable, albeit the most strong-minded of her children, had turned into this jealous, insecure woman. ‘Listen, love, all the children in the world won’t keep him beside you. Children put more of a strain on a marriage than anything else. All that shite about it bringing you closer is just that – shite. For the first few years you won’t sleep enough, you won’t eat properly and your sex life will be almost non-existent. But if you can get through it all, I promise you, that is when you finally bond together. And, remember this, when you have a baby in a cot, you can’t walk out of the house. He can, but you can’t. You’re stuck there no matter how angry you might be or how murderous you’re feeling. He can walk out, go down the pub, whatever. You are trapped like a bloody rabbit, and I can tell you now, it is one of the most frustrating feelings you will ever experience. But I can also tell you that if you learn how to calm yourself down, learn how to channel your anger into the home, or the washing, you will eventually come out the other side, frazzled, but with your marriage in one piece. Your father was out all hours of the day and night – that was his life, and I accepted that. We ain’t married to nine-to-fivers, love – you picked Delroy knowing he was like your dad. You can’t expect him to change now. So, listen to me. Get a grip, accept your life, accept his lifestyle, or run a mile now. Because he ain’t ever going to change.’

  Imelda knew her mother was offering her the chance to walk away from her marriage; she was telling her that if she wanted to, she could come back here with her baby and start again. But she couldn’t. She could no more leave Delroy than she could cut her own throat.

  Knowing that her mother understood how she was feeling was a relief in itself, though. She could come to her now, she could ask her advice, she had a sounding board and she had a feeling that, without this conversation, she would eventually have lost her mind.

  ‘I love you, Mum.’

  Ria smiled sadly. ‘I love you too, poppet.’

  She glanced at their reflection in the mirror and she saw how old she was getting, and how this daughter of hers was ageing too quickly because of her constant scowl. She already had the beginnings of lines around her eyes and her mouth. But she was still a truly beautiful girl, and she deserved much more in her life than she had now.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘Come on, Peter, I’ve held me hand up, I’ve swallowed about as much as I can without a fucking stomach pump. So I’m asking you nicely, with a pretty please, and a cherry on the top: can I have the debts back?’

  Peter Bailey looked into his brother’s eyes. They were a real blue, just like his mum’s. She had the same big eyes, the same deep blue colour. All Daniel’s kids had inherited them as well. Peter’s kids were brown-eyed like him; he had hoped years ago that one of them would get those blue eyes, but it had never happened.

  Now, looking at Daniel’s eyes, seeing how much he resembled their mum, and knowing that, deep down, he had always secretly envied his brother because of that, he wondered how this state of affairs had ever come about. ‘I am willing to give you the debts, Dan, but you have to promise me you will not give any unnecessary grief to the people you come into contact with.’

  Daniel closed his eyes in genuine consternation. ‘Don’t you think I’ve been shamed enough, Peter? Do you think I don’t know what people think of me? Do you really think I am that fucking stupid? I want the debts because I am good at collecting, and I want to prove that I am ready to take on some of the responsibility again. After all, we are supposed to be partners, ain’t we?’

  Peter knew how hard that was for his brother to say out loud. Daniel would never get over the shame of being blackballed by those he had seen as no more than his workforce. These were men who liked Lenny Jones, but who also knew that if they did not do something about his treatment, they could well find that they were next. Peter got that; he really could see their point of view. Daniel, though, believed he was the victim of jealousy and grudges.

  Daniel was convinced he had already paid his penance ten times over. As far as he was concerned, Lenny Jones was a fucking old man; he should have had more sense than to mouth off to him and treat him like a cunt. He had got no more than what he deserved, and not before time either.

  Peter sighed. ‘I’m saying, Daniel, that I will bring you back into the fold, but only on the debts. I can’t justify having you back on board in any other capacity unless you can guarantee to me that you will toe the line. I have to listen to the people I’m working with now. They don’t want you. They see you as a liability; you bring too much attention on not only yourself, but everyone you are associated with. I have argued your case, believe me. But your reputation, as always, precedes you. It’s a different ball game, Dan. You can’t just do what you like any more.’

  Daniel didn’t answer his brother. He didn’t trust himself; all he could see was the complete and utter disloyalty of it. How could his brother, who had been closer to him than anyone in the world, allow him to be treated like this? Could treat him like this himself? It was an outrage. He felt a murderous rage rising inside his chest at the utter shame his brother had put on his shoulders.

  He had to get out of this place, and soon. But first he had to negotiate a settlement of some kind. He was not leaving here empty-handed; without him his brother wouldn’t have had a pot to piss in and they both knew that.

  ‘OK, then. Whatever you might think of me now, Pete, I’ve always had my fucking creds, mate. Now, I have been good enough to swallow my knob over Lenny. I know I overstepped a boundary. But do you know what? Fuck it all, mate. Stick it up your arse.’

  Peter didn’t answer his brother. He just stood and waited for him to say his piece.

  ‘I want the debts, but I want them all. I want every last one of them, Pete, and you know as well as I do that I’ve earned them. If anyone needs money brought in, I get the call. You see to that. I also want the betting shops, North as well as East London. I want my fucking fair share. I also want a percentage of the other businesses, and I will promise you now I will not interfere in any way, shape or form provided I get my poke. You
fucking think I’m a mug! I can’t believe you have the gall to treat me like this, your own brother, the only person you have ever really been able to trust, and you know that’s true, Pete. No matter what you think now, you will always be the fucking coon, the outsider, and I hate that you have made me say that to you.’

  Peter Bailey looked at this man, his brother, his closest kin, and he knew he was speaking the truth. It had taken a lot for him to say what he had said, because Daniel had never once seen his colour, only that he was his brother, and he loved him for that. Daniel had always had his back, of that there was never any doubt. What was in question was Daniel’s ability to make enemies without discrimination, to cause upset and discord without thought for the consequences. Peter shook his head sadly as he said seriously, and against his better judgement, ‘I’ll give you what you want, Dan, but on one condition.’

  Daniel didn’t answer him, he just stared at him, and Peter saw that his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

  ‘You can have the debts and the bets – all the bets across London – and we will work side by side. I don’t want to row with you, Dan. I just want you to see that we have to box clever, make you understand that we can’t be seen to be weak in any way. I want you beside me, for fuck’s sake, Dan! You’re my brother. But we have to be on the same page. You have to be seen as a sensible head. No more fucking mindless violence; we have to be men who are seen as trustworthy, reliable, to be seen as able to work in tandem, so people know that we are a real partnership. If we can’t achieve that, Dan, then you can go your own way now. You have to see what’s at stake here. You have to make sure you do not fuck up again.’

  Now he had tears in his eyes too, and he knew that Daniel could see them. He hoped against hope that tonight had cleared the air, and they could both move on.

  ‘You can rely on me, bruv.’

  Peter hugged his younger brother, could smell the aroma that was so peculiar to him: Acqua di Selva and Palmolive soap. And prayed that he had done the right thing. As much as he loved his brother – and that had never been in question – Daniel was not a man who could be trusted to make sensible decisions off his own bat. He needed guidance, and Peter would have to watch him like a hawk because of that. They would start with the debts and the bets; let Daniel prove himself there and everything else should fall into place. After all, they were brothers, bonded by blood, and nothing would ever change that.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Peter Bailey was uneasy. It seemed that his brother was running true to form. He’d only been back in the fold a couple of weeks and already people were on the blower complaining about him, his attitude, and his aggression. Luckily, the people who were complaining were not people he had any real interest in. And, anyway, he had bigger fish to fry. Like Alfie Clarke, for example. Alfie, so the gossip went, was double dealing. He was still supplying the Baileys with drugs, but he was also supplying the very people they themselves were selling on to. He was going straight to the dealers, and side-stepping the middle men. Peter would see it as a good move if he wasn’t the middle man. Not only had the earn gone down considerably – a fucking irritation in itself – but the principle of it really offended Peter Bailey.

  He had thought Alfie Clarke far too shrewd to think he could get away with something so fucking basic; he had not believed it at first because it was so fucking outrageous, and so blatantly a piss-take, he had been hard pushed to accept the truth of it. But then Daniel’s words came back to him: I’ve heard he’s mugging us off. So are we going to take that? It seemed his brother had been right about Alfie Clarke all along.

  Delroy had brought him the news; he’d been as dumbfounded by it all as Peter was. Delroy, though, had noticed the gradual slide in the weekly take, and he had decided to investigate. It had not taken him long to find out the score, and then he had made it his business to pay a late-night visit to a certain Essex wide boy by the name of Robbie Jennings. Robbie had been only too pleased to tell Delroy the whole sorry tale.

  Robbie Jennings was a young man, and a foolish one at that. He had not understood the seriousness of his offence, though Delroy had apparently disabused him of that notion. He would be drinking his food through a straw for the foreseeable future.

  What to do now, though, was the real melon scratcher. Alfie Clarke had to be reprimanded, and he had to be reprimanded in such a way that people would remember it, and know that it was because he had pushed his luck with the Baileys. Delroy had suggested giving the job to Daniel, believing it would give Daniel a chance to prove his worth. Furthermore, knowing Daniel as they did, Alfie Clarke would get his comeuppance in a spectacular fashion.

  Peter nodded to himself, his mind made up. Delroy was right. This was where Daniel really shone; he loved any reason to prove himself, and this would be perfect for him. He would make sure that he was in a public place when it all went down; after all, if Daniel went too far, there was no reason for them both to get a capture.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘I can’t believe we’re off to Spain, Ria, it’s like a dream come true. And just what I need before Tania’s Christening. All the arranging has worn me out! Shame the boys can’t come out with us though. I was looking forward to all of us being together, like old times.’

  Lena was packing Tania’s case as she chattered and Ria was glad that she couldn’t see her face. Peter had no intention of going away with Daniel, and he had said as much. They were still not right, and she knew from what Imelda had gleaned from Delroy that it was not going to get better any time soon. She lifted Tania up and hugged her; she was a dear little thing. ‘I tell you what, Lena, we’ll have a nice girly one, eh? I’m glad the boys aren’t coming – we can just relax and do what we like without them. Let’s face it, when they come all we ever do is cook or go out to bars so they can have their meetings; at least we can do what we want if we’re on our own. Anyway, Peter wants me to look for a bigger villa, and we can do that in our sleep! I know exactly what I want – an older place with an orange grove, you know? Somewhere really beautiful with a bit of land, room for a pool, a real Spanish hacienda, with marble floors, big hardwood doors, shutters . . .’

  Lena laughed at her friend’s excitement; if she knew Ria she would already have a place picked out! She’d have been furnishing it in her mind for months. ‘You are a case, Ria! How often are you out there? You’ve already got a villa, and it ain’t exactly small, is it!’

  Ria shrugged in annoyance; it irritated her that Lena never saw the big picture, but was happy to just jog along. ‘It’s an investment, Lena. Spain is already a big holiday destination – people are not content with a week in Bognor any more. They want guaranteed sunshine, and Spain is as cheap as chips once you get there. They pour your drink straight out of the bottle – no optics, no fucking weights and measures like here! Marbella is beautiful with the sea and the beaches. You should talk Daniel into buying a place. I tell you, Lena, you will make your money back on it. I love waking up to the sun, looking out at the sea while I’m eating my breakfast, and then walking into the town for a bit of lunch. It’s what we have worked for, mate; for me it’s my reward for all those years of childrearing. I go out there and I relax completely.’

  Lena closed Tania’s case. She understood what Ria was saying, and she quite easily had the means to buy a villa out there if she wanted to. But she was still tortured by the fear that their lives could collapse around them at any moment. Her fears were in no way assuaged by the fact that Daniel and Peter seemed to be permanently at loggerheads these days.

  No, Ria was an amazing woman, and she loved her dearly, but Lena knew that her expensive lifestyle wasn’t for her; she would never be able to rest if she didn’t have her nest egg. But she decided to be amenable to the idea – on the face of it at least. ‘You’re right, Ria, I should have a nose around for a little place. I think it would be lovely to have somewhere to take Tania for her holidays.’

  Ria smiled. She really hoped that Lena would buy a place
of her own – if ever anyone needed a bolt hole, she did.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Alfie Clarke had a set routine these days. Every morning he put his little son into the passenger seat of his Mercedes, and together they visited his different businesses. He loved to show him off, loved people to remark on his boy, how handsome and strong he was already. Every accolade heaped on Alfie Junior was a compliment to him. Everyone talked about his devotion to the lad, and they were a fixture now in the urban landscape that Alfie ruled.

  As he pulled up outside their regular café on Ilford High Street, he was feeling very happy. They had a drink and a snack here every day. He unbuckled his son and lifted him into his arms and, as he went to open the car door, he felt the first prickle of fear.

  A dark-coloured car had pulled up beside him, and all his instincts told him that something was wrong, that there was a problem. He turned to look at whoever was driving the offending motor, and he saw Daniel Bailey grinning at him.

  As Alfie finally understood what was happening, he tried to shield his son with his own body, but he knew in his heart that it was too late.

  It was all over in minutes – Alfie Clarke and his little son were both dead. Daniel Bailey had pumped eight bullets into them.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Peter Bailey was waiting for the tragic news about Alfie Clarke’s demise at one of his favourite pubs in Dagenham. He was holding court with a group of friends, and enjoying a few beers when Delroy came into the bar with a face like thunder.

  Leading Delroy outside to the car park, Peter looked at his son-in-law askance, and waited patiently for him to deliver the news.

 

‹ Prev