by Jacqui Rose
Thinking that a line of cocaine might be more helpful than the whiskey, Alfie pulled a face, feeling the stress beginning to build. ‘I dunno, it’s not like you’ve got anything concrete to base it on.’
‘So, why’s she not here? She knew we had a meeting to discuss the accounts. It’s obvious she’s trying to avoid it.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
Vaughn stood up and walked across to where Alfie was tucking into the whiskey. ‘Okay, then look me in the eye and tell me that you trust her. Go on, say it, Alf. Say that you trust Franny and mean it, and I promise you that I’ll leave it. I won’t ever mention anything about Franny again. I’ll drop my beef with her. How’s that for a deal? So, come on then, do you or do you not trust her?’
Alfie swallowed. He could feel the side of his jaw pulsing from tension and he stared at Vaughn. What the fuck was he going to say, because the problem he had was that Vaughn knew him too well. He would see if he was lying, and he would be lying if he said that he trusted Franny completely, because at the back of his mind, he knew there was something not quite right. But then, maybe it wasn’t her, maybe it was his own state of mind, his paranoia, and it certainly didn’t help that Vaughn kept sowing seeds of doubt. Shit. He had no idea what to think, and if he thought that Vaughn was bad now going on about Franny, if he admitted anything close to not trusting her, he’d never hear the last of it.
The one thing though that all of this had made him decide, was he was going away. Once he’d had a word with Charlie, he would take Franny’s advice and shoot off somewhere and get his head together, but right now he was going to be careful what he said to Vaughn.
He opened his mouth. ‘Okay, here’s the truth, Vaughnie, I …’
A loud crash from the entrance of the club stopped Alfie saying any more. He nodded his head to Vaughn, who took the signal, pulling out two small handguns from a chrome bucket full of ice underneath the bar. He threw one to Alfie.
Carefully catching it, Alfie whispered, ‘Take the other exit; I’ll go and see who it is.’
Nodding, Vaughn moved quietly towards the back of the club leaving Alfie to switch off the lights and make his way as silently as he could to the front of the club.
Just before he got to the entrance, Alfie pushed flat against the wall, readying himself but hearing nothing more. He tapped the door with his boot to push it open, craning to listen, though all he could hear was the distant sound of traffic coming from Soho Square.
Flicking the safety latch off the gun, Alfie moved outside, the cool air hitting him hard.
About to walk up the basement stairs, he stopped abruptly, seeing something on the floor. He picked it up. It was a letter addressed to him. With shaking hands, Alfie ripped open the envelope, feeling his legs begin to give way as he read what it said.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You sent me to prison, Alf,
now I’m coming for you.
‘Alfie?’ Vaughn’s voice behind Alfie made him jump. Strung out, he began to fire his gun over and over again, the bullets ricocheting in the small entranceway.
‘Fucking hell, Alf! Jesus Christ, what are you doing?’ Vaughn grabbed Alfie, slamming him hard against the wall, knocking the gun out of his hand before he pushed his forearm against Alfie’s throat.
His face red with fury, Vaughn spat out his words: ‘What do you think you’re doing? Do you want every single copper descending on this place?’
Alfie shook his head, his eyes wide open with fear, and managing to push Vaughn away from the tight hold he was in and spluttering. Alfie rubbed his neck. ‘No, fuck’s sake, no, of course not!’
Alfie turned to go back into the club but Vaughn, raging, blocked his way. ‘I want an explanation. Now!’
Bending over to rest his hands on his knees, Alfie, shocked by his own actions, tried to play it down.
‘I dunno, mate, I just thought I saw a rat, that’s all. I hate the fucking things.’
Pulling him up and twirling him round to face him, Vaughn furiously shook his head, speaking through gritted teeth. ‘No, no, no, no, you’re not going to try to tell me that you risked the fucking flying squad swooping in, just so you could kill a rat. You need to come up with something better than that, Alf.’
As he spoke, Vaughn glanced up the basement stairs, seeing a stranger curiously looking down at them both. He pulled Alfie inside, immediately punching him hard at close range in the face.
Staggering backwards, Alfie tasted the blood in his mouth but there was something about the physical pain that he welcomed at that moment. His head was a wreck, and anything was better than thinking about those letters. ‘I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up.’
Furious, Vaughn strode up to him, pulling and shaking him roughly. ‘Sorry! Are you kidding? I ain’t going down for you, not for this, not for you shooting a gun out there like you’re cowboy fucking Jo. You need to lay off that coke, Alf. You’re acting crazy and you’re looking rough as fuck. One druggie in the place is bad enough.’
Puzzled, Alfie looked at Vaughn. ‘What are you talking about?’
Grabbing hold of Alfie’s arm, Vaughn dragged him towards a door marked, staff only. He pushed it open, but as soon as he did, a girl pounced on him, trying to scratch at his face, screaming at the top of her voice.
‘Who the frig are you to lock me in here, hey? I ain’t your fucking dog.’
With ease, Vaughn pushed her off, keeping her at arm’s length. ‘I found her round the back. She says she knows you …’
10
Shannon stared indignantly at Vaughn. ‘I do know him! I was just bringing his jumper back.’
Alfie’s eyes flashed angrily. He ran at Shannon, grabbing hold of her. ‘It was you wasn’t it? You left it for me. Is this your idea of a joke? You think it’s funny?’
Upset, Shannon shook her head. ‘What are you talking about? Get off me, I ain’t done anything.’
Clearly unconvinced, Alfie pushed Shannon hard in the chest. ‘You think it’s funny to play with people, do you? Well I’ll show you what I do to funny.’
Shannon’s eyes filled with tears. She’d thought this Alfie bloke was all right, but it was turning out he was like every other man she knew. ‘I … I don’t know what your problem is, mate! I only came here to give you your jumper back.’
Alfie’s voice raised the roof. He bellowed at Shannon as he lunged at her. ‘Liar!’
‘Leave it out, Alf, she’s just a kid.’ Vaughn put his hand on Alfie’s shoulder, but he shook it off and continued to shout.
‘I’ll leave it out when she tells me about this!’ Alfie waved the letter in the air as he pushed Shannon again in the chest. She stumbled, falling backwards, landing sprawled on the floor.
‘You’re fucking mental, mate. How could it be me? I don’t know even know what’s in it.’
Her crying was like a hard slap to Alfie’s face, snapping him out of his rage. He scrabbled down to the floor, picking her up and cradling her in his arms. ‘Oh Jesus, what have I done? I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Of course, it’s not you. I don’t even know what I was thinking.’
Distressed, Shannon pushed him away, burying her face into her knees. She already felt terrible. Her dealer had ripped her off and charged her more than double the price for a rock, so she’d only been able to afford one, and the high had worn off quickly, leaving her feeling miserable and agitated, which was why she’d come to see Alfie. He’d been nice to her, and she didn’t really have anywhere else to go, but it was obvious that she’d made a big mistake thinking Alfie would be any different to anyone else. ‘Piss off! I hate you! I hate you!’
‘I don’t blame you, darlin’, and if it makes you feel any better, I hate me as well right now.’
‘You didn’t have to push me. I’ve hurt me knee now.’
Shame rushed over Alfie and it was only made worse by how young and vulnerable she sounded. ‘I know, and I was wrong. Well out of order. I’ll never do that again, I promise. You’re s
afe here … Can you forgive me?’
Warming to his tone, Shannon glanced at Alfie, wiping away her tears. His eyes were kind and maybe it’d turn out that she could trust him, maybe he wouldn’t hurt her again, but then, what did she know? For a long time she’d believed that her uncle Charlie and her auntie were kind and trustworthy until she realised that most other girls at eight didn’t have to sleep with men who were old enough to be their grandfather.
‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’
Against her better judgement, she muttered, ‘Shannon.’
Alfie smiled, seeming pleased that she was talking to him. ‘That’s a nice name. It suits you, and I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for bringing my jumper back. You didn’t have to. Can I get you a drink or …’
‘Hello? Alfie? Hello?’
Alfie looked at Vaughn. ‘Shit, it’s Franny. Look you stay here with Shannon, make sure she’s all right, and I’ll go and speak to Franny. The last thing I need is for Franny to see Shannon here … Look after her will you?’ And without waiting for an answer, Alfie quickly got up and left the room.
Seeing Franny standing in the middle of the empty club, Alfie feigned a smile. He wasn’t in the mood to start questioning her about where she’d been, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for her to start questioning him about Shannon. That could all wait, because he had to admit it was good to see her. Really good. She was just what he needed. He walked towards her, then touched her cheek, before giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. ‘Hey, Fran.’
Franny pulled away and frowned as she looked at Alfie’s face: strained, his mouth bruised and bloody, completely dishevelled.
‘What’s been going on? What happened to your face, and what happened outside? The crate of empty bottles is all shot up. Has Charlie been again?’
‘No, nothing like that … Just leave it.’
‘Alf, clearly something’s happened. Just tell me.’
‘For a minute there, I was happy to see ya, but you just can’t help chewing me ear off, can you? I’ll see you later.’
Alfie grabbed his key from the side and stormed towards the exit and up the basement stairs with Franny close behind. He marched down Sutton Row but halfway along he stopped as he heard Franny calling him. ‘Alf! Alf, wait a minute, please. What’s happened?’
He shouted over his shoulder. ‘I don’t need this shit now.’
Continuing to run after him, Franny called out, ‘What is wrong with you?’
‘I asked you to leave it. Can’t you just do that one simple thing?’
Catching up, Franny touched Alfie’s back. ‘How can I, when I see you in this state?’
He turned to look at her, fighting the emotions that were overwhelming him. He felt the tightness in the back of his throat as he tried to hold back the tears. It was a joke – he was a bloke and yet here he was standing in the heart of Soho, blubbing like a girl. He couldn’t speak; he just squeezed his eyes tightly, listening to Franny talk, her voice quiet and warm.
‘Oh my God, Alf, please, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on. I want to help you.’
Instead of answering Franny, Alfie pulled out one of the letters from his pocket, handing it over to her. She read it then gazed at him.
‘Alfie, why didn’t you tell me about this before? Is this what it’s all been about?’
Still unable to speak and unable to make eye contact, Alfie nodded as Franny continued to talk.
‘I know that a while ago you said something about a guy being released from prison, but you never told me who it was. Even when you told me, you seemed on edge about it … worried. Do you think it’s from him?’
Alfie’s voice broke. He looked up to the sky feeling the rain beginning to fall. ‘It’s got to be. There’s only one person I’ve ever ratted on … Like I told you before, I ain’t a grass. It’s not usually my thing to go around snaking people out and landing them in prison, and besides, it was a long time ago.’
‘I know! But what I don’t understand is, who is he, Alf? Because this ain’t like you. Not the Alfie I know. Why don’t you just tell me who it is?’
Alfie shook his head. ‘Trust me, it’s best you don’t know.’
‘Well whoever it is, this guy must be a pretty big face to get you acting like this, though you know what I think, Alf? I think that all that gear you’re taking is making you more paranoid – jumpier. It’s making everything seem worse.’
Sniffing and wiping his face, Alfie looked down. ‘Maybe you’re right. My head’s a mess and I can’t seem to snap out of it, so what I think I’m going to do is take your advice: go away for a bit; perhaps I’ll end up investing in Spain again. Things seemed simpler out there, we were happy. And the Costa is hardly the other side of the world, is it? Oh, I dunno, but I’ll talk to you all about that later … Look, I’ve got to go.’
‘Where to?’
‘No more questions, Fran, I can’t deal with it.’
Franny nodded as she squeezed Alfie’s hand. ‘Okay, baby.’
Then finally managing to look at her, Alfie smiled, though his eyes were full of pain. ‘I love you, Franny. You hear me? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me … I’ll see you at home. I’ve just got to go and see someone.’
And with that Alfie turned and ran down the street.
11
Charlie stared in the mirror, something he tried not to do often. Not that he was anywhere near worried about his balding head, nor did he care that his body folded over in huge waves of fat, and neither was he bothered that his nose and face were a ruddy red map of veins. No, the one thing that he couldn’t stand was the fact he looked like his father. Almost a carbon copy of him. It was like his father was staring back, taunting. Mocking. Reminding him of his childhood filled with abuse, which he thought would never end.
When he looked in the mirror he could remember what happened as if it was yesterday, but above all he remembered the smell of his father. Alcohol mixed with charcoal. Always charcoal. His father would have a constant fire burning on the rusting barbeque. Getting rid of any incriminating evidence. Bloodstained sheets. Bloodstained underwear. Photographs of him and his sisters that his father and his sick friends would take of them. Anything and everything went on the fire. To this day he couldn’t bear the smell of charcoal.
Turning away, he looked down at his phone. He hadn’t heard one peep out of Shannon. Not one text. Not one phone call to tell him that she was sorry. He’d even got a couple of his men to go around all the crack dens in Soho, thinking that she’d be there. But she was nowhere to be seen. Well he would make her fucking sorry when she came crawling back to him.
Who did she think she was? He’d put a roof over her head, food on her table and she earned a wage. What more did the little bitch want? But he supposed he shouldn’t blame her because he was the mug. He’d been the one who’d been soft on her, trusting her because she was family. Thinking she was better than the other girls who worked for him. He’d been weak. He’d been kind. And what did she go and do? Throw it all back in his face. And when she did come back – and she would – the little runt would regret ever trying to take the piss out of him again.
The one thing Vaughn Sadler hated more than crackheads were chatty crackheads and since he’d turned right into Shaftesbury Avenue, Shannon hadn’t stopped talking. The only thing that he’d contributed to the conversation was to ask if it was left or right at Sanford Street. Not that she’d known – the only thing she did seem to know about was which drug dealer or nonce to avoid. Though the one thing, the only thing of interest she’d said all night was she worked for Charlie Eton, and not only that, but she was also Charlie’s niece.
He’d no idea if Alfie knew this piece of information or not, and when Shannon had first said it, his immediate thought was, Charlie must’ve sent her. But as quickly as that thought had come to him, it disappeared. The girl was just a vulnerable druggie who Charlie had used and abused, and as such, he’d found himself feeling sorry for
her, which is how he now found himself stuck in a car with her chatting ten to the dozen, having given her some money and volunteering to drive her to her friend’s house. Shit!
Sighing, Vaughn flicked on the wipers of his Range Rover as it began to pour with rain. He pulled over to where Shannon was pointing at the same time as noticing how few teeth she had for such a young girl. ‘Over here, mate. That’s lovely. Right here will do. Cheers for the lift.’
‘No worries. You’ll be all right?’
Nodding, Shannon jumped out of the car, once more delighted at having some money in her pocket, though this time round, she’d make sure her dealer didn’t mug her off. But she could get used to this; not having to sleep with men and playing all their pervy games for a living felt good, and she had to admit, although at first Vaughn had been a bit moody, and hadn’t really been much of a talker, he’d been nice to her, like Alfie had. Two people being nice to her in twenty-four hours – that really did take some beating. By her reckoning, this might be the best day of her life. ‘Yeah I’ll be fine, Vaughn. See you around. Oh, and tell Alfie, I hope he’s all right.’
Absentmindedly, Vaughn watched as Shannon skipped down an alleyway. He had to give it to her, she was made of tough stuff. He didn’t know if he’d be able to cope with all that she put up with, and underneath the hard exterior, she seemed like a sweet kid who just needed someone to look out for her. It was a shame she was so bang on the gear.
Turning his attention away and looking into his wing mirror, Vaughn indicated to pull out, wanting to do a U-turn rather than have to drive the whole way around, but he froze as he caught sight of a dark blue Porsche Cayenne Turbo at the traffic lights of Warspite Road. He stared at the driver and through the pelting rain, he could just make out who it was. It was Franny.
What was she doing around here? It was only a couple of hours ago she’d been at the club. He’d assumed she’d gone somewhere with Alfie, but clearly she hadn’t, and whatever the reason she was here, well maybe this was his opportunity to find out exactly what Franny was up to.