Bad Blood

by Kelleher, Casey

  ‘Not a wink.’ Sally shook her head.

  Cassie moved around the bed so that Jacob was just out of earshot. ‘You are in one of the best hospitals in the world. I know you’re going to be worried out of your mind when he goes down to theatre, but he is in safe hands and he’s a strong little man.’ Cassie felt awful that her shift had finished and she wouldn’t be here when the anaesthetist finally came to fetch Jacob for his surgery. She guessed in a way it was for the best. They had no idea how long he could be down there – it could be just a matter of a few hours, but more than likely it would be a lot longer. ‘He’s going to be just fine.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Sally clutched Cassie’s hand tightly, appreciating the nurse’s sentiments in trying to put her mind at ease. They both knew that Jacob’s operation was set to be a complicated one, as brain surgery always was. Jacob had a Rhabdoid tumour. And it was aggressive. The child hadn’t responded well to the chemotherapy he’d been having and, after six long weeks of persevering, the surgery today was his last option.

  ‘I think one of the other mums has just filled the percolator up in the kitchen if you fancy a nice strong cup of coffee?’ Cassie suggested.

  ‘No. I’m fine, ta. I’ll get one later, when Jacob goes down . . .’

  Nodding, Cassie could already see how hard today was going to be for Jacob’s mum. She’d seen it so many times before. It actually surprised her how it was always the mums that worried themselves sick, while the children that were going through the actual physical surgery often took it in their stride. But then, ignorance was bliss, she figured. Normally the mums did more than enough worrying for everybody.

  ‘How about you, Jacob? Have you got everything you need?’ Jacob was colouring in a picture in his bumper colouring book, scribbling with his crayons, and surrounded by so many cards, toys and teddies that the room could have passed for the hospital gift shop.

  ‘Can I have some Coco Pops, Nurse Wrong? Mummy says that I’m not allowed as today is my properation,’ Jacob answered.

  ‘Op-er-ation.’ Quietly, and with a weak smile, Sally corrected her son. Though just the mere sound of the word, spoken out loud, made her feel sick to her stomach.

  ‘I’m afraid Mummy is right, Jacob. You are going down to theatre shortly.’ Checking her watch, Cassie knew that Jacob would be collected soon. Spotting the look of disappointment on the small child’s face, Cassie couldn’t help herself. Sitting down on the empty chair next to him, she winked at Sally before lowering her voice and relaying to Jacob a very important secret. ‘I’ll tell you what though. You tell me something special that you want to eat later on and I’ll pop back as soon as you come out of surgery and bring it for you especially. McDonald’s, pizza, giant chocolate chip cookies . . . Anything in the whole wide world!’

  Cassie watched as Jacob opened his eyes wide at the thought of being able to have anything he wanted. Taking a few seconds to think Jacob shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I just really, really want some Coco Pops. Maybe I could have two bowls?’

  Laughing now, it never ceased to amaze Cassie how selfless some of the children that came in here were. After everything they had gone through, how they suffered, they were always so selfless. Her job was so humbling.

  ‘Then Coco Pops it shall be. I’ve got to go home now. So you be a brave boy for your mummy, won’t you?’

  ‘I am brave, Nurse Wrong. Look, I’m a pirate today.’ Jacob pointed up to his bandana. Then doing his best pirate impersonation he let out a loud, ‘Ooh arr.’ Just like he’d seen in the cartoons. Jacob’s hair had fallen out from all the chemo sessions that he’d endured, and the boy was obsessed with his bandanas. Every day he had a different one to show Cassie, but he’d worn this two days in a row now so Cassie knew that it must be his favourite.

  ‘Shiver me timbers,’ Cassie laughed. ‘Wow, you really are a very brave pirate. I’ll see you later, Captain Mulligan.’ Cassie curtseyed before walking to the end of the cubicle and blowing Jacob a kiss.

  The boy smiled, then putting his small chubby hand up in the air he pretended to catch it. Just like Cassie had shown him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Well, it ain’t the usual type of place I’d go for a pint, but you certainly know your market.’ Raymond sat back in the booth as he scanned the busy bar. The place was packed to the rafters and he was impressed. Taking in the groups of trendy, well groomed men and women that filled the room, Nathan had certainly done a good job of honing in on the pink pound, just like he had said that he would.

  ‘You’ve done bloody amazing,’ Harry said proudly. Nathan was bang on the money. He’d had his work cut out for him. The place had been a dive when Nathan had first taken it on and if Harry hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed the transformation was possible. In just one short week the place was completely unrecognisable.

  Destiny’s was every inch the upmarket wine bar that Nathan had promised it would be. The place was outstanding. The rickety old bar had been ripped out and replaced with a rustic French oak, which complemented the new wooden flooring perfectly. One end of the bar was dotted with leather upholstered stools while opposite, lining the entire side of the room, were a cluster of luxury velveted booths.

  ‘How the bloody hell did you get it all done so quickly?’ Raymond asked. ‘Even DIY SOS would have struggled with this size project in a week.’

  ‘I paid the decorating company double bubble, Uncle Raymond, and we all worked around the clock. I haven’t seen Cassie all week.’ Raymond and Harry laughed at how sullen Nathan looked at his sacrifice.

  ‘Where is she tonight then? Working?’

  ‘No. Well, kind of, I guess. It’s her night off but she’s gone in to see one of her patients. A little boy with cancer. He’s been in theatre all day. I spoke to her earlier on the blower and she felt bad that she couldn’t make it tonight, but she had sounded quiet worried about the little fella. So I insisted that she go and see him. Honestly, Dad, the things that girl deals with, I don’t know how she does it. She’s amazing.’

  ‘Well, I tell you what, son, she’s in good company with you then. And I hope it works out for you both.’ Harry smiled at his son. He was so proud of how the boy had turned out. He didn’t want to start getting all slushy on the kid, though. ‘You’ve done a blinding job on this place. Proper top notch it is. And I hate to admit it, but as much as I love that brother of yours, thank God that he didn’t have too much input when it came to the décor.’ Harry chuckled.

  ‘This place would have been kitted out with strobe lights and a bleeding disco lamp if he did.’ Nathan laughed as he nodded over to the state-of-the-art DJ booth that he had invested a fortune in. ‘What do you think of the new bit of kit? Bit better than the other one?’

  ‘It looks perfectly understated, unlike that bloody monstrosity your brother ordered.’ Harry laughed. ‘Raymond, you should have seen the state of it, had me in fits it did. Bright bloody pink and covered in glitter, I ain’t ever seen anything like it.’

  ‘Don’t, Dad, it wasn’t bleeding funny.’ Nathan shook his head at the thought of it. Apart from the odd unhelpful bit of inspiration from Christopher, it had been Nathan that had put his heart and soul into the place. ‘Honest to God, Christopher ain’t all there. He actually thought that it was a stylish feature. He probably had the Village People’s “YMCA” all set up on the playlist too.’ Listening to Christopher’s stereotyping of the gay community all week had actually left Nathan gobsmacked. Somewhere in his tiny, ignorant mind Christopher truly believed that anything remotely camp or tacky in his eyes was technically classed as ‘gay’.

  ‘How come you know so much about what “gays” like?’ Christopher had sneered at him earlier, miffed that not only had Nathan made him return the dodgy-looking pink DJ booth, but he had also constantly dismissed all of his design ideas. ‘Are you sure Cassie isn’t just a cover story
to hide the fact that you’re a secret ring snatcher?’

  Nathan had ignored his brother’s snidey jibe, too busy sorting out the last minute details himself to get into another row with him. He wanted every detail to be chic, and stylish. Whereas Christopher wasn’t capable of going beyond cheap and nasty tat.

  He had been glad when Christopher had finally gone home to get changed and left him, Evie and Kelly to finish up getting the place ready. The girls had worked flat out today with the cleaning and organising. Thank God they had, or else this place would have never been ready in time. His sisters had both been a million times more helpful than his so-called business partner.

  They’d only opened the doors half an hour ago, and Nathan felt a surge of pride as he looked around. His first investment looked like it was set to soar.

  The place was exactly how he’d envisaged it, right down to the very last detail.

  Not only had Nathan lined up some of the best DJs in town and given them regular slots, but he’d also invested in a top notch menu too. Fresh local produce, with lots of fancy dishes. With good food on offer, drinks flowing, and top tunes playing, once people came through the door, Nathan wasn’t going to give the punters any reason to want to leave.

  ‘Where is your brother, anyway?’ Raymond asked, looking about the place. He had thought that Christopher would be here by now, lapping up some of the praise on their grand opening. That boy loved the limelight.

  ‘I think that’s him there . . . Yep, talk of the devil.’ Peering out of the window, Nathan spotted his brother’s huge frame getting out of the taxi that had just pulled up outside, along with his two sidekicks, Darren and Russ.

  Glancing out, he was pleased that his brother had at least made an effort. Kitted out in a suit so fitted that it contoured the outline of almost every muscle, Christopher looked as dapper as always, towering above his two mates. Nathan had a sneaky feeling that Christopher could probably dress in a bin bag and still receive the same recognition. He radiated the vibes of a man who could more than handle himself.

  ‘Looks like Christopher has a few admirers.’ Raymond laughed as he watched Christopher swaggering along the pathway outside the pub, past the packed tables that were overflowing with smokers. His enormous physique demanded presence and people moved out of the way as he walked towards them.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ Nathan sighed, noting that he was indeed receiving a steady stream of captivated stares following his broad frame as he went. ‘I hope no-one’s stupid enough to crack on to him.’

  Going on how homophobic Christopher was, Nathan had been in half a mind to try to put him off from coming here tonight, but how could he? They were business partners. This place was a joint effort. Or it was supposed to have been.

  ‘Too late for that. Look, he’s pulled . . .’ Harry laughed as they all watched as a nerdy looking guy, dressed in white skinny jeans and a baby-blue pullover bravely approach Christopher.

  Even from this distance they could see that Christopher had a face like thunder on him at the thought of being chatted up by a gay man. His eyes flashed with malice, and Nathan could see his brother’s neck turn puce, a sure warning sign that Christopher was going to kick off.

  ‘Oh fuck!’ Nathan abruptly stood up as he recognised the man that Christopher was now glaring at. ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he called as he began making his way to the main door as quickly as he could before his brother put them out of business before they had even started.

  ‘Hi there. It’s Christopher, isn’t it? Wow, it’s so hot in there that I needed to come outside just to get some air.’ Wayne smiled. He knew he was babbling but he couldn’t help himself. Christopher Woods was a beast of a man and standing in front of him, Wayne, not normally so easily unsettled, suddenly felt nervous. Just the sheer size of the man was intimidating. The bloke didn’t look too friendly. Faced with Christopher’s icy cold stare, Wayne tried to remain unfazed as he offered out his hand. He’d heard how volatile Christopher Woods could be. He was almost as famous for his short fuse as he was for his boxing. ‘I’m Wayne, Wayne Barnes.’

  ‘And?’ Ignoring the geeky looking bloke’s extended hand, Christopher leaned back. This bloke was in way too close proximity for his liking. He must have a death wish if he thought for even one second he could try it on.

  Christopher turned to his mates and raised his eyes trying to make light of the situation to save face.

  ‘You certainly know how to draw a crowd.’ Ignoring Christopher’s rudeness, as he sipped from the long cocktail glass, Wayne persevered with his conversation. ‘Must be the cocktails. Cucumber Daiquiri this one is, it’s gorgeous.’

  Wayne was doing everything in his power to keep his cool. Christopher Woods was known for his abruptness, in fact that was all part of the man’s charm. It’s what people loved. His fiery temper, his strong physique. Like his father, Harry Woods, Christopher was fast becoming a celebrity face in London, with a bad boy reputation to match. Wayne could see the attraction; there was just something so delicious about taming a bad boy. ‘I can see you’re a busy man, so shall we just get straight down to business. Do you want to go inside? It would be great if I could get a body shot of you standing up against the bar.’

  ‘Er, I don’t fucking think so, mate.’ A body shot? Christopher rubbed his temples. This poncy cunt was starting to infuriate him now. These fucking gays were more upfront than he had anticipated. This one clearly had balls of steel thinking that he could just swan right up to him and try his luck. If this bloke was aware of who he was, then he’d also be aware of the fact that Christopher wasn’t gay. Blatantly being chatted up by this mincer in full view of his mates, and before he’d even got his foot in the door of the bar, Christopher was raging. What was this bloke? Some kind of a cunt?

  Incensed, Christopher leaned in and spoke loud enough so that the man could hear him clearly. ‘Unless you’re hiding a tight little pussy and pair of titties under that fucking clobber you’ve got on, I ain’t fucking interested. I’m straighter than a fucking ruler, you get me? You’ve got more chance of me shoving that Cucumber Daiquiri up your arse fucking sideways, than anything attached to my anatomy!’

  Christopher had warned his brother that everyone would start to think they were both a pair of benders, but had Nathan listened? No, he hadn’t. Nathan always thought he knew best. But not this time. Christopher had been right. He’d barely been here more than two bleeding minutes and already he had been propositioned by one of the dirty bastards.

  Christopher knew that this would happen. He was a good-looking fucker, so he couldn’t really blame the gays for trying their luck. They probably thought he was a prime bit of meat ready for the taking. The only thing this bloke would be riding tonight was a fucking ambulance if he even so much as put his slimy hands anywhere near him.

  ‘How dare you . . . ?’ Indignant, there was no way Wayne was going to stand here and be spoken to like this, no matter how threatening Christopher Woods may think he could be. No-one spoke to Wayne like that.

  ‘How dare I?’ Christopher laughed now, joining in with his mates that were stood behind him. He could see that his words had had the desired effect as he watched Wayne’s face flash bright red with anger. The bloke looked like he was going to have a bitch-fit and Christopher was enjoying making the slimy bastard squirm.

  Hearing Darren and Russ both laughing behind him only spurred Christopher on some more. That and the crowd of onlookers who were gathering around on hearing the heated argument. Christopher revelled in being on show once more, and this dirty bastard needed to learn a few rules on etiquette around here. ‘Here you go, cunt-chops. How’s this for a dare?’ Grabbing the bloke roughly by his top, Christopher pulled the man in closely before head-butting him hard in the face.

  Wayne’s nose exploded as he fell backwards, landing awkwardly on the floor. Sprawled out on his back at Christopher’s feet, he writhed around the
floor in agony, cupping his hand under his nose, as he tried to catch the stream of blood that poured out. The blow had been unexpected and the pain that had exploded in his head was making him feel disorientated.

  Christopher sneered down at him as he snorted up a mouthful of mucus from the back of his throat, which he spat straight into Wayne’s blood splattered face.

  Darren and Russ roared with laughter now. Christopher was like a man possessed when he copped the hump, and rolling up his sleeves now, it looked like he was just getting started.

  ‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ Shoving his way through the crowd that was now standing around Wayne, Nathan had just come steaming out of the pub.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Christopher. What is your problem?’ Nathan berated his brother before squatting down on the floor and turning his attention to Wayne.

  The man looked a sight. With blood all down his shirt and tears of humiliation filling his eyes, Nathan knew that there was no way he was going to be able to smooth this over.

  Once again, Christopher had gone too far.

  ‘Jesus. I’m so sorry, Wayne. There seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding. My brother . . .’

  Christopher didn’t feel that he needed to justify himself, but seeing as Nathan was so het up about it, he would. ‘Don’t apologise on my account, Nath, there was no misunderstanding, trust me. This cunt was trying it on and just got himself a much needed reality check.’

  Flashing his brother a warning glare, Nathan turned his back on Christopher and tried to salvage the situation as best as he could with the injured man. ‘Do you want to come inside and we’ll get you all cleaned up?’ Nathan wanted to calm the situation down, but he could tell by the look on Wayne’s face that the last thing he wanted to do now was go into the bar.

  He could murder Christopher for this.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere near that Neanderthal.’ Wayne was shaking. In all his years, he’d never come up against someone so vile and offensive. ‘A gay bar owned by a gay-basher. Is this how you get your kicks?’