“You what?” exclaims Rachel.
She is sat in her solicitor's office facing a poe faced woman in her mid forties with long mousy hair and an arrogant tilt of the chin.
“You cannot petition for divorce on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour if the respondent has disappeared. He needs to be able to respond, hence the term respondent.”
Rachel clenches her jaw in irritation at the woman's patronising tone. “What can I do then?”
“You have two options. Either you can file for divorce on the grounds of desertion or separation without consent.”
“And how long will that take?”
“You must understand Mrs Maguire that these options are rarely used because they are difficult to prove.”
“How long?” she repeats.
“Five years.”
Rachel is appalled. “Are you telling me I have to wait five years before I can finally be rid of him?”
“No. I'm saying you have to wait five years before you can petition for a divorce. The process after that will be long and drawn out. You're probably looking closer to seven years.”
Rachel leans forward in her seat, struggling to come to terms with what she’s being told. “My husband was a violent, abusive drug user and the law won’t free me from him for seven years?”
“I'm afraid so.”
“The old saying's right. The law is an ass.”
“There's something else you should know. If Danny returns in the meantime he can lay claim to any assets you may accrue.”
Rachel slumps back in her chair, unbelieving of what she’s hearing.
After leaving the solicitors, Rachel heads to Martina's Bar a couple of hours before it opens. Dolores, the bar manageress, is already there setting up. In her late forties she is assertive and experienced with shoulder length auburn hair and a snub nose. Rachel took to her immediately. She doesn't mince her words, says exactly what she thinks and is tough as old boots. She is also extremely efficient at her job, keeps the staff under control and gives Rachel advice as and when she needs it.
“Alright love?” chirps Dolores. “You look like you could do with a large one but how about a drink first?”
Rachel laughs. “Thanks, I could murder one.”
“What's happened? Come on, tell Auntie Dolores.”
“Oh, just some legal crap. Nothing to worry about.”
Dolores hands her a glass of wine. “Get that down you. Perk you right up.”
“Is Mikey here?”
“Yeah he's up in the office with Terry.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Dolores smiles at Rachel's retreating back. She’d been dismayed when she'd learnt she was the new gaffer but she's been proved wrong. Rachel is smart and sassy and Dolores likes her very much. She'll always make sure Rachel's bar runs like clockwork, even though the rest of her life is in chaos.
Rachel can hear Mikey and Terry arguing as she approaches the office door.
“What's going on?” she says as she enters.
They are both on their feet, red faced and obviously angry.
“Hi Rach,” smiles Mikey. “How'd you get on at the solicitors?”
“Not good,” she sighs. “And what are you two arguing about?”
They both look away from her and down at the floor.
“Well?” she demands, hands on hips.
“Nothing Rachel. You don't need to worry, I'll handle it,” replies Mikey firmly, throwing Terry a warning look.
“Handle what?”
“We both know it has to be her. There's no point her having the clubs if she won’t do it,” says Terry.
“You can't ask her to do it. It's not fair,” counters Mikey.
They start arguing again and her patience snapping, Rachel slams her fist down hard on the desk, taking a leaf out of her father-in-law’s book. They both stop and stare at her.
“I know you're trying to protect me Mikey but I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”
He holds up his hands. “Okay.”
She looks at Terry questioningly.
“It's Jason Wilks,” he says.
“Not that scumbag,” she replies. She knows Jason Wilks from the Montford, a two bit drug dealer with a nasty reputation and sadistic tendencies.
“He thinks now that you're in charge of this place he can waltz back in here and start dealing again. Danny let him get away with it to ensure he always had a supply for himself more than anything. He backed off when Mikey took over but now he knows you own the place he thinks you're a soft touch. You have to prove him wrong.”
Rachel nods. He’s saying she has to make an example of Jason Wilks to warn off all other interlopers, she has to show she is just as strong as Mikey.
“Think you can handle it?” says Terry.
She nods. “Yeah. No problem.”
“You don't have to do this Rach,” interjects Mikey. “I can do it for you.”
“Thanks for the offer but Terry's right. If I don't do it then everyone will think they can take the piss and you've got your own clubs to run. You can't be here all the time.”
“Alright but tonight I'll stay, just in case things turn nasty.”
Terry smiles at her with new found respect. “Good girl.”
Rachel's eyes narrow at his patronising tone. She'll bloody well show him who’s a good girl.
Later that night the club is full to capacity, the dance floor packed and the bar surrounded by thirsty customers yelling orders at the harassed bar staff. Only Dolores maintains her calm, her smile never once slipping.
Rachel and Mikey sit in the security office watching the monitors carefully. The bouncers have been instructed to allow Jason Wilks in and they will radio in when he arrives. She isn't looking forward to the task ahead but knows it’s a necessary evil. Causing a dirty little drug dealer a bit of pain is preferable to someone dying in her club because of his dodgy gear. She is amazed at how easy she has made the transition from nurse to hard faced club owner. The Maguires are good teachers.
Mikey watches her from the corner of his eye, concern etched on his face. He thinks Terry is out of order for asking her to do this, she's seen enough violence lately. Mikey can understand his reasoning but it’s still unfair. However he will be there to help her through it, of that he is determined. He adores Rachel, always has. She'd been the very first person to believe in him and encourage him. She’s like his big sister and he owes a lot of what he is to her. But now he has more experience of women and sex and has matured considerably he sees her for what she really is; a beautiful, charming, intelligent woman. He's always known she’s beautiful, he'd have to be blind not to but now he sees her soft lips, pert breasts and slender legs and he finds himself thinking thoughts that are not at all brotherly. However she is nine years older than him and still married to Danny. Since he left men have been falling over themselves to chat her up but she’s told them all where to go so he knows there’s no way she would ever look at him. He will content himself with being her closest male friend and he will always look out for her.
“So, what happened at the solicitors?” he says as they stare at the security monitors.
She repeats the whole sorry saga.
“Where does that leave you?”
“Nowhere really. Married but with no husband. It's a joke. Danny could come back tomorrow or he might never come back at all and the best of it is he could lay claim to any assets I may accrue, which means he could contest my ownership of the clubs.”
“But he signed them over to you, to us.”
“He could claim he was under duress.”
Gary, the techno-geek in charge of all the security equipment, sits bolt upright in his seat, pushing his thick glasses further up his long thin nose. “There he is,” he says, pointing at the monitor.
They look at the figure of Jason Wilks striding through the club arrogantly. He walks up to a group of men stood in a corner drinking and they watch as they make the exchange.
“Let's go,” says Rachel determinedly, picking up her stun gun and sliding it into the belt of her skirt.
Downstairs in the club the music is so loud Rachel can feel the beat thud in her chest. It takes them a while to reach the spot where Jason had been stood when they saw him on the monitor and by the time they get there he's moved on.
“Did you see where he went?” Rachel says into the walkie talkie.
“Outside the men's toilets,” comes Gary's voice over the line.
They can see the entrance from where they are stood and strain to look over the heads of the crowd.
“I see him,” she says.
Mikey nods and follows her. This time Jason stays put because he’s making another deal and doesn't notice them until they are right there. His entourage is with him - two heavies and a large breasted bimbo caked in make-up.
Rachel takes a deep breath. “Oy,” she yells. “We don't tolerate that in here.”
Jason looks at her and laughs. “Go away you silly girl before you get hurt.”
He turns back to his customers, who eye her warily. Rachel's rage spikes when the bimbo has the temerity to laugh at her. Storming up to Jason she taps him on the shoulder and he sighs and turns back to her.
“What?” he snarls.
She grits her teeth and shoves her face into his. “I said we don't tolerate drugs in here. I'll give you one chance. You can walk out of here with your kneecaps intact or…,” She lets the sentence trail off and smiles maliciously.
Jason appears amused. “And what are you going do all on your own little girl?” He spots Mikey. “You and the freak. Now fuck off before I do you some damage.” His eyes run up and down her body. “It'd be a shame to ruin such a pretty thing.”
Rachel's had enough. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”
Before he can react she knees him in the groin and punches him hard in the face. Then she kicks him backwards so he falls into one of his heavies. She draws the stun gun from her belt and shoves it into his chest, shocking both him and the heavy simultaneously. They slump to the floor, twitching and spasming. One of Rachel's strengths is that she can move incredibly fast, attacking before her opponent has the chance to defend themselves. It’s one reason she’s won so many battles.
The second heavy is torn as to whether to run and lose face or stay and back up his boss. Unfortunately he decides on the latter. He squares up to Mikey, who draws back his fist and hits him hard in the face.
“What the..,” mutters the heavy, amazed at the power behind the blow. Then he drops to the floor, unconscious.
The bimbo stares at her struggling boyfriend, terrified by this turn of events. Rachel recalls the way she had laughed at her and deals her a stinging blow across the face with the back of her hand then grabs her by the throat and pulls her close. The bimbo's mouth opens and closes soundlessly as she stares into the face of an angry Rachel Maguire.
“You’re barred, bitch.”
She shoves the bimbo to the floor who scrabbles to her feet and runs as fast as her knee length boots will allow.
Rachel glares at the customers Jason had been dealing to. “And you can bugger off too. Don't let me catch you in here again.”
Nodding they turn and fight their way towards the exit in a panic.
Battler and Bruiser come charging out of the crowd and stop in their tracks when they see the three figures on the floor.
“Looks like you don't need us after all,” smiles Battler.
“I do. Take them downstairs,” says Rachel, her stomach rolling over at the thought of what she must do next.
Luckily the door leading downstairs is right next to the toilets so they don't need to drag the unconscious men through the club. A few people have seen what’s happened but they are wise enough to pretend otherwise.
They take Jason and his heavies into a small room beneath the club. By now the three men, who have been tied to chairs, have regained consciousness and are watching Rachel warily. Jason feels foolish at having been bested by a woman but is impressed by her at the same time. She stands over him, looking down at him sternly.
“I gave you every chance but you wouldn't listen.”
“Go screw yourself you silly cow.”
Battler draws back his large fist and punches him hard in the side of the face, knocking him sideways. Only the ropes binding him prevent him from falling to the floor.
“You don't speak to a lady like that.”
Jason laughs and spits blood onto the floor. “Lady? Oh yeah, she's a regular Princess Diana.”
Battler draws his fist again.
“No,” orders Rachel.
“See,” hisses Jason. “She's not got the bottle for it.”
Rachel's black eyes narrow. She walks over to a cupboard in the corner of the room and opens it, Jason watching nervously.
“You see Jason, my experience as a nurse taught me many things, including the human body's amazing endurance for pain. I also learnt that usually it’s the simplest things that cause the most agony.”
She turns to him brandishing a syringe filled with a nasty green fluid and his jaw drops.
“As you are about to find out,” she ends coldly.
Rachel and Mikey return upstairs just as the last of the customers are leaving. However one customer has hung back, a large muscular man in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair and a thick bull neck.
“Excuse me, Mikey is it?”
“Who’s asking?” replies Mikey suspiciously.
The man extends his hand. “The name's Patrick Harrison. I own the Amateur Boxing Club down the road. I saw how you handled yourself earlier and I was impressed. It's a long time since I’ve seen a right hook like that. I wondered if you'd be interested in coming along to the club and seeing what we do? You've got a natural talent. Have you ever boxed before?”
“When I was younger but I've been out of the game for a while.”
“Well if you're interested I'm there every day.”
“Alright. Maybe I will,” he grins.
As Mikey watches Patrick disappear through the exit Rachel comes up behind him.
“What did he want?”
“He wants me to join his boxing club.”
“You should. You'd be good.”
Mikey watches her as she sinks onto one of the bar stools and takes a large gulp of wine.
“You did well in there,” he says. “Shit him right up. I don't think we'll be seeing him again. It'll send a strong message to anyone thinking of doing the same.”
“I hope so. I don't fancy a repeat performance.”
“Sure you're okay?”
”I'm fine, really,” she smiles.
He decides to leave it at that. He knows she hates it when people go on about things.
When Jason Wilks is found bleeding and unconscious outside his local pub word quickly gets round and the Maguire's nightclubs are left alone. The message is received loud and clear that the they are still a force to be reckoned with, despite their recent troubles.
Rachel's work at the clubs keeps her busy. She’s there most nights and falls into the job easily, as though she’s done it for years. Mikey is an excellent teacher and they spend most of their time together planning new ventures for the clubs, sorting out staffing problems and discussing new suppliers. The club gives her a handsome income, more than enough to keep her in the style she's grown accustomed to. Although she denies herself nothing she still puts some away regularly and her bank balance is growing exponentially. She’s even earned enough to buy her parents a cottage in their favourite holiday resort in Devon. Three months after Danny has gone she starts to feel more like her old self. However she still misses her husband dreadfully, despite what he’s done.
CHAPTER 25
The newly-appointed Superintendent Benton once again faces the shadowy figures of The Coalition. It's been a while since they last met for various reasons.
“The Maguires have been weakened by their recent family troub
les. Since Danny disappeared Frank is a changed man. He's gone soft, lost his edge. He's also having some health problems. I don't think it'll be long before he hands things over,” begins Benton.
“To who?” enquires May politely. “Alex?”
“Possibly but my money's on Terry. He's older and more experienced. We need to get to them before the handover takes place. If we take Terry out of the running then it will leave them at sixes and sevens.”
“You're talking of removing the hydra's head,” says Davenport. “Take Terry out and Frank hands over to Alex, take out Alex he hands over to Mikey. There will always be another to replace them.”
“That's why I had the idea of going after Rachel. Hit the legitimate businesses, tighten our grip on their finances.”
Lord Davenport's voice is cold. “It is not the legal activities that swell their coffers, it is the illegal ones. I do not understand this hatred you have for Rachel Maguire. You will leave her be, for now anyway.”
“She killed Jarvis. Why won’t anyone listen?” he seethes, slamming his fist down on the table before him.
Davenport is unmoved. “I said you will leave her be. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he mutters.
“We have formulated a plan and you will execute it exactly according to our instructions.”
Benton doesn’t like his tone, it’s superior and patronising. “Fine,” he retorts sulkily.
Terry pours over the paperwork in the portakabin serving as the office on the site where the new houses are being built. He hates paperwork and always puts it off, only deigning to go through it when the tower of papers threatens to topple off his desk.
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