by Jacqui Rose
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about Bree.’
‘What?’
‘You think just because I didn’t say anything much when you and Bree got together, that it didn’t hurt me? Then you’re wrong, because it did. I hated you for what you did, you hear me? Hated you.’
Shocked, Alfie gazed into Franny’s eyes, her face only a few inches away. ‘I didn’t know.’
Franny screamed at the top of her voice, ‘Then you’re a fool, Alfie, a fucking fool. How could you think it didn’t hurt? I loved you. Loved you so much, and that was hard for me to do. You always knew how hard it was for me to feel anything, but I did, with you, yet you still got together with Bree.’
Pressed against the wall, Alfie gawped in amazement. ‘What are you talking about? You left, remember? You took two million quid from me and Vaughn without so much as an explanation, so what did you expect me to do?’
The screech that came from Franny was heard outside. ‘Not that! Anything but that … So now, like I say, you owe me, because now, I feel something else for someone else … I feel for Mia.’
Alfie looked at Franny strangely. ‘You don’t even know her.’
Holding back the truth, Franny snapped as tears rolled down her face. ‘I know that she’s a baby, Alf, and if you don’t want Barry doing the things he did to you to Mia, then you’ll do this.’
Ashamed at how frightened he felt, ashamed at the tears that ran down his face as well, Alfie whispered, ‘I can’t. I just can’t. Have you any idea what you’re asking me? I wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for him.’
Suddenly, Franny slapped Alfie hard across the cheek. Her face was red and angry but she spoke quietly. ‘Then I’ll ask Charlie, and after that, we keep on looking until we find Barry, and when we find him, I’ll make sure he tells me where Mia is, and then, Alf, for all the things he did to you as a kid, I’ll kill him … I’ll kill him just for you.’
29
Having been woken up several times by nightmares and only getting a fretful sleep, Franny, tired and stony-faced, sat in the car next to Alfie, who was in the passenger seat.
‘You promised me that you’d leave him alone, and now you’re telling me that you blew his kneecaps off? Have you lost all sense? Didn’t I tell you that I didn’t want any more trouble?’ She glared at Alfie.
‘Listen, I did what I thought was best, understand? I know that he caused that fire; I just know it. You should’ve seen what he was like. Cocky fucker, it was almost like he knew something that I didn’t. He even said …’ Alfie stopped, deciding once again he wanted to keep the information about what Charlie had said to him just before he blacked out, to himself.
Irritated and uneasy, Franny, sipping from a takeaway coffee, asked, ‘He even said what?’
‘Nothing, nothing … He just made out he didn’t know anything about the fire.’
‘Well maybe he didn’t.’
As he spoke, Alfie pulled out his phone in his pocket, feeling it vibrate. ‘You’ve changed your tune.’
‘Yeah well, I already told you that maybe I was too hasty … Who’s that?’
Alfie read the text on the screen; again the message was the same as the first, from the same number that no one answered when he’d called it back.
Ask Franny what she did.
He looked at Franny, the nagging unease that something clearly wasn’t right, that something was going on right under his nose, but he couldn’t quite figure out what, came back into his mind, and although he tried not to, Vaughn’s warning that Franny wasn’t to be trusted raced around his thoughts.
It was ironic because for all the agg, he missed Vaughn. He missed being able to run things by him and although there were times when they were at loggerheads, ultimately, when the shit really hit the fan, Vaughn was always there for him, which made the fact that he’d just got up and gone even more difficult to accept.
And he hated to admit it, but although he felt betrayed by him, right now he needed him. Needed Vaughn to help figure out what was going on, though he’d be damned if he was going to tell Vaughn that. He’d left enough messages for Vaughn, letting him know he wanted to talk, but if Vaughn wasn’t going to call back right now because of his bruised ego or some fucked-up rationale that everyone owed him money, well there was no way he was going to start to beg him. No way at all.
‘Alfie, are you listening to me? I just asked who that was from.’
Tucking his phone back into his jeans, Alfie, as casually as he could muster, said, ‘Just one of me mates wanting to know if I fancied going out for a drink.’ He smiled, watching Franny watching him. Not giving anything away, mirroring Franny’s neutral expression.
The silence lasted until Franny said, ‘Okay, well you stay here then, and I’ll go and speak to Charlie.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’
Franny gazed at Alfie. She touched his face gently. Although when Alfie had told her about hurting Charlie she was initially angry, the more she thought about it, the more she realised it could work to her advantage. She could now use it as an excuse for not wanting Alfie to come in and speak to Charlie, something that otherwise might’ve been difficult to do without him becoming suspicious.
‘Alf, I love you and thanks, I know this is hard for you, but he’s hardly going to want to speak to you after what you did to him, is he? I doubt he’s going to be your number-one fan. And to tell you the truth, I think if you did try to talk to him, it’s more likely to put him off saying anything than if I went on me own.’
‘If you’re sure.’
Franny smiled, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Yeah, I am.’
‘Are you sure we shouldn’t call the police? Don’t get me wrong, it ain’t something I’d normally do, but we have to think about Mia.’
Pensively, Franny said, ‘Well that’s the point and that’s why we can’t. Once the police find out it wouldn’t be long before word gets out on the street that they’re looking for her, so whoever has got her, would release. If she’s too much of a risk to keep, they’ll want to get rid of her as quickly as they can … and I mean permanently get rid …’ She paused, choked at the thought, and then added, ‘Look, you wait here, I’ll see you in a bit.’
Inside the hospital, Franny sat and waited for the nurses to finish changing Charlie’s bandages. She looked at her watch. She’d already been waiting for over half an hour, but she needed to speak to him today, the longer it took to get any leads on Mia, the less likely it would be to ever get her back.
For all she knew, Mia might not be in the country anymore. The trafficking of kids was rife, and big money passed through hands of small-time villains and large professional gangs. The vile demand was always there, and the number of children who went missing or were in some abusive situation was overwhelming.
She sighed, putting her head in her hands, trying not to let her imagination take her to dark places. She had to think positively, because after all, what else had she got?
She had tried to call Ma, but she hadn’t answered her phone. She doubted Ma would be of any help, especially knowing how desperate Franny was. It probably amused her; Ma certainly liked to play games but if Ma wasn’t careful, those games might turn on her.
The other person she still needed to speak to was Shannon. She was sure she knew something more than she was letting on. To her, Shannon was the weak link, and if she could get her to talk, maybe she could glean some more information, though one way or another, she was determined Shannon deserved payback.
‘You can go in now if you like, but try not to be too long. He’s very tired. I think the operation took a lot out of him.’ The small, Filipino nurse spoke warmly to Franny and then walked down the corridor carrying a large sluice bag.
Without bothering to answer, Franny walked into the whitewashed hospital room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
A computer monitor sat on the wall behind Charlie, c
onnected to a multitude of coloured wires that ran over his bed. A green oxygen wire ran to his nose. He was covered in clean, white sheets, but Franny could see through the silhouette of them that the lower part of one of his legs had been amputated.
Silently she walked up to Charlie, leaning down to his ear. ‘Hello, Char, I need a little word with you.’
Charlie’s eyes flicked open. A look of fear crossed his face but disappeared quickly as it turned into a snarl. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘Now that isn’t nice, Charlie, and especially when I’ve brought you some flowers.’ Franny threw the bunch of white lilies on Charlie’s stomach. ‘When I told the florist they were for someone ill in hospital, they told me not to buy them, cos apparently lilies are associated with someone’s funeral … so I thought I’d bring them along just in case.’
Charlie swiped at the lilies, throwing them onto the floor. ‘Get out! Get out!’
Franny shook her head. ‘That’s just not going to happen, and you don’t look like you’re in any position to throw me out … So why don’t we just make this quick?’
‘What do you want?’
‘I want to know where your bastard of a father is.’
Charlie seemed shocked. ‘I haven’t seen him for years.’
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Franny stared hard at Charlie. ‘Not good enough, Charlie. I need more than that.’
‘Listen, I’ve got nothing else to say to you. Does Alfie know you’re here?’
Franny nodded. ‘He does actually.’
Defiantly, Charlie, who looked pale and in pain, angrily said, ‘Well you can tell him from me, he’s a dead man. You hear that, Fran. He’s a fucking dead man!’
Franny grabbed hold of Charlie’s left leg, squeezing the amputation site through the sheet. He screamed out in pain, but immediately, Franny slammed her hand over his mouth. ‘I wouldn’t start threatening people, Charlie – those days are long over. Looks to me like your reign has come to an end.’ She released her hand and through his agony Charlie screamed.
‘Fucking bitch, how dare you come in here after your fella put a bullet through my leg. I won’t let you get away with this. Either of you. You’ve ruined me.’
Dripping with sarcasm, Franny smirked. ‘My heart bleeds for you, Char, especially after you’ve lived such a respectable life.’
Charlie snorted with derision. ‘Oh, you think it’s funny do you? Let’s see how hard you’re laughing when I let Alfie know about you and Bree. Ma told me that he doesn’t know anything about the baby. I think he’ll be very interested to find out, don’t you?’
Franny raised her eyebrows at Charlie before she stood up and walked across to the oxygen tube. Taking it into her hands as she smiled. She squeezed it, kinking the tube and watching as Charlie began to struggle for air, his face turning from a shade of red to purple. ‘I don’t think that’s going to happen, do you? I think that would be stupid of you to do that … What’s that, Charlie? I can’t hear you.’
As Charlie spluttered, banging his hands on the bed, writhing about, Franny kept hold of the tube and kept smiling. After several seconds, she let go, allowing the oxygen to rush back through it.
Taking a deep gasp of air, Charlie rubbed his chest, his words staggered as he struggled to speak. ‘You stupid bitch! You’re crazy … you could’ve killed me.’
‘And if you threaten me again, I will kill you, just like that, and I won’t think anything of it. You see, right now I’ve got too much to lose to worry about a piece of scum like you, so let’s have no more talk of telling Alfie, shall we, and then you and me will get along fine … Now I want to know where Barry is.’
Sounding slightly panicked, Charlie shook his head. ‘I have no idea where that man is, like I already told you, I haven’t heard from him for years.’
Again, Franny squeezed Charlie’s leg, sending a shooting pain around his body.
‘And is that the truth, Charlie? Because you know I’ll come back if I find out that you’re lying to me.’
With his face squeezed up in agony, Charlie nodded, barely able to get the words out. ‘It is, it is! Jesus Christ!’
Watching the blood begin to stain the white sheets, Franny let go and nodded. ‘Okay, but have you any idea where I might find him?’
Exhausted, Charlie shook his head. ‘No, none of us are in contact with him. If Alfie has told you anything about him, you’d know why. I can’t help you.’
Walking towards the door, Franny stopped. She gazed at Charlie for a moment. ‘And, Charlie, not a word, you understand? Not a word about Bree.’
Having waited five minutes after Franny had left, Charlie reached for his phone, dialling a number as his hands shook. It was answered quickly. ‘Hello?’
‘Dad, it’s me, Charlie. There’s someone asking around about you.’
30
It had been over half an hour since Franny had walked into Queen’s Hospital in Romford to see Charlie and as Alfie sat waiting, watching the people come and go, he suddenly froze. A wave of nausea washed over him. A wave of fear … Right in front of him, not even two hundred metres away, scurrying away from the main entrance, talking on his phone was Barry Eton.
Unable to keep the bile from rushing into his mouth, Alfie opened the car door and promptly was sick. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, closing his eyes for a moment to get his breath, then cautiously – though he doubted after all this time Barry would recognise him – he peeked around the back of the car, watching Barry stalk across the car park to where a grey Mini was waiting for him.
Physically repelled he watched the car move out of the hospital car park but as it got to the gate, Alfie – suddenly thinking about Mia and Franny – sped into action, pushing his fears to one side. He ran around to the driver’s seat and began to follow. He put his foot on the accelerator and followed the grey Mini, swerving between cars, desperate not to lose sight of it.
At Aveley bypass he turned right, following the car down a long main road, heading towards Tilbury Docks. He continued to follow, pulling back occasionally to avoid being seen.
At the edge of a large industrial site, Alfie pulled up, watching the grey Mini stop alongside an abandoned warehouse. The lights of the Mini were turned off but he couldn’t see who got out of the car or even how many people there were.
It was dark, and the rain began to turn into hail, banging down on the top of the roof. Still with his stare fixed on the car, Alfie pulled his phone out from his pocket. He pressed dial, listening to the voicemail click in, then speaking in a whisper, Alfie said, ‘Fran, it’s me, look, I had to take the car. I’m at a warehouse in East Tilbury. It’s the disused shipping site – you know the old motor factory on the front. I’ll explain all when I see you, but if you can get yourself here, I’d appreciate the back-up … but be careful … Listen, I have to go.’
Clicking off the phone, Alfie looked around before hovering his hand over the car handle, trying to force himself to get out. ‘Come on, come on, you’re no longer a kid.’ He spoke out loud, pushing himself on, trying to ignore the feeling of terror he experienced at the thought of Barry Eton only being a few feet away. Trying to ignore his biggest demon. Then taking a deep breath, Alfie opened the door, closed it silently behind him and headed off towards the warehouse.
As he crept along the side, Alfie couldn’t see or hear anyone. The only sound was his feet crunching on the stony gravel whilst the long grass hid the shattered glass and rusting debris surrounding the derelict warehouses.
He could feel the adrenalin rushing around his body as his heart pounded faster, a thin trickle of sweat running down his back as he tried to steady his breathing.
Creeping along the wall, Alfie suddenly stopped, hearing voices coming from the other side of the crumbling warehouse. He strained to hear what they were saying but the noise of the hailstones hammering down on the discarded, rusty metal sheeting made it impossible to make anything out.
A sound dire
ctly behind him made Alfie begin to run, keeping low and next to the wall, hiding as much in the shadows as he could. At a small, metal side door, he paused a moment, then slunk inside unnoticed.
Inside the old warehouse, which seemed to creak with hidden sources of noise, Alfie tried to work out where he needed to be. He walked along the corridors, which were strewn with the remains of pipes and tubing, rubbish and bottles abandoned on the floor.
Cautiously, stepping along, conscious of not wanting to make any noise, Alfie saw a set of stone stairs in the far corner of the darkened warehouse. He headed towards them, walking up to the next floor, following another maze of corridors, looking over his shoulder as he went, stopping at every sound.
A man’s shout from the far side of the warehouse made Alfie stop in front of a door with a large glass partition. Carefully, he peeked in and although he couldn’t see anyone, there were shadows moving on the far side of the empty room.
Certain that was where Barry was, Alfie closed his eyes again, steadying himself as the unwanted images of what had happened came into his mind. He wiped away the sweat that was now running from his forehead, pushing himself into the pitch-black corner.
Hearing the echo of footsteps, Alfie crouched down before slinking away as quickly as he could, desperate not to be spotted … What were they doing here? It didn’t make any sense. The place was abandoned but suddenly his thoughts were interrupted when another noise caught his attention … It was the voice of a child. The cry of a child.
Trembling, Alfie put this hand into his jacket pocket. Shit. Fuck. He’d left his gun in the car and the problem was, he didn’t know who they were, or how many of them there were. Maybe the best thing he could do was go back to the car; at least then he’d be armed and would stand some kind of chance.
With his mind made up, Alfie darted back the way he came, but at the end of the corridor where the stone stairs were, he could see someone was down near the side door where he’d come in. Hurriedly, he backtracked, trying to find another way to get out, frantically running along the corridor, hoping to head towards the other side of the building.