The Goldsworth Series Box Set

by Davie J Toothill

  Charley jumped through the door and closed it behind her. She hurried down the corridor, heels clicking on the floor, and barrelled down the stairs as fast as she could.

  Outside, she felt relieved that she had gotten away with the short dress. Although she knew that there would be hell to pay when she got home, she was too excited about the party to care. She was determined to enjoy herself tonight and that was all that mattered.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Charley sat down heavily on the couch in Sasha’s lounge. Her feet were killing her and the few glasses of wine she’d drunk had gone straight to her head. Leigh-Ann was still dancing in the middle of the room, her hands firmly around a handsome boy called Luis’ waist. Charley smiled to herself. It was about time that Leigh-Ann found herself a decent guy.

  The party was good. The music was loud and there was plenty of wine, fags and grinding bodies. Sasha ran around the flat, looking on edge, checking that nothing had been broken and that nobody had spilt anything which would stain, like red wine; at least, she had done until she had slipped into her bedroom with a guy she thought was called Tamar.

  Charley watched the dancers for a few minutes, and then rummaged through her handbag for her phone. She checked it. No new messages.

  She felt her heart sink and sighed. She had been hoping that Bolton might have rung her by now. When she had spoken to him earlier he had told her he was busy in the evening with a meeting. Charley had questioned him, but he hadn’t divulged any details. He had agreed to look in on the party when he’d finished, but Charley was starting to wonder whether it had been wishful thinking on her part, hoping that he would make it.

  He was with Dante, and she knew that he would do anything he could to keep them apart. She didn’t know why Dante disliked her so much. Maybe it was because she was younger, or maybe because he was jealous that she was taking his friend away from him. Whatever the reason, he pissed Charley right off.

  She considered texting Bolton but decided against it. She didn’t want to pressure him, especially when they’d soon be living together and would be able to spend hours at a time together with nobody else interfering. She dropped her phone back into her handbag as Leigh-Ann crossed the room and sat down beside her, breathing heavily and smiling.

  “This party rocks,” she said, wiping her forehead.

  Charley nodded. She just needed another glass of wine and she’d be fine. Bolton would come in his own time. In the meantime, she would start enjoying herself some more.

  * * *

  Bolton waited in the front passenger seat of Dante’s car. His heart was beating fast and the darkness pressing against the windows added to the rising tension. Now that the time had come for action, Bolton was feeling nervous again. Dante was quiet as he rolled a joint and Bolton knew that they were both wondering what the outcome of tonight would be.

  Kareem had phoned them half an hour ago and given them directions to a nearby estate where Uncle Jasper used one of the flats as an office. When they had gotten the call, they’d been overjoyed and excitable but that had been replaced with fear and apprehension now that they were so close.

  “Do you reckon he’s driving?” Dante asked, as he finished rolling the joint.

  Bolton shrugged.

  Dante lit the joint and took a few deep puffs, the car filling up with smoke. After a third puff, he passed it across to Bolton.

  “Cheers, man.”

  Bolton savoured the weed as he felt himself begin to relax.

  “We can’t have too much,” he said. “We’ve got to be ready for anything.”

  Dante eyed him closely and then nodded, winding down his window to let some smoke out.

  Bolton had just passed the joint back to him when a knock on his window made them both jump.

  “Fuck sake, man, nearly gave me a heart attack,” Dante said, as he got out of the car.

  Bolton climbed out and nodded to Kareem.

  “You ready for this?” Kareem asked.

  He looked from one to the other and Bolton could tell that Kareem was already having doubts about their suitability for the job.

  “Yeah, we’re ready,” Bolton answered.

  Kareem shrugged and led them across the estate. As they walked, Bolton felt his nerves mounting. He wanted the job and the money more than anything, but he was starting to have serious misgivings about walking into Uncle Jasper’s office and asking for a job.

  Dante, walking beside him, was having similar thoughts. The thought of getting taught a lesson in respect from Uncle Jasper and his henchmen was a truly terrifying image and he wiped his sweaty palms on his tracksuit bottoms, hoping he could get a grip on his nerves before they came face to face with Uncle Jasper.

  Ten minutes later, they were climbing the stairs in a tower block. Kareem was in front, relaxed and at ease with their surroundings and what lay ahead. Bolton could feel his heart pounding in his chest and hoped that he would not betray his nerves when they got to the fourth floor.

  Kareem pushed through the door to the fourth floor and led them down a gloomy corridor. The walls were white but stained with dirt and the smell of neglect and years of cigarette smoke.

  When they reached the end of the corridor he stopped abruptly. Bolton followed his lead, but a nervous Dante walked into the back of him and Bolton cursed him under his breath.

  Kareem knocked on the door for Flat 39. Bolts were undone on the other side of the door and then it swung open. Kareem nodded at the large white man beside him. He was built like a wrestler and Bolton hoped they would not have to fight him if the meeting went badly.

  The big white man nodded at Kareem, who stepped aside and motioned for Bolton and Dante to go ahead of him. Bolton nervously stepped into the flat and he could feel Dante close at his heels. He glanced backwards and saw the white man closing the door. Kareem was clearly not high-up enough to be invited to meetings like this.

  “Stop,” the white man said.

  He patted Bolton down and then Dante, who shifted uncomfortably as the man ran his hands over him. A few minutes later, the white man seemed satisfied.

  “All clear,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Bring them through,” a deep voice called back.

  Bolton followed the man through a beaded curtain to a large lounge area. The room was lavishly decorated with leather settees, a coffee table and expensive-looking gadgets.

  There were already people in the room. Two dark men in jeans and hoodies sat on the sofa, guns evident at their hips. A dark girl with a pretty face and large breasts was perched on the edge of an armchair. In the armchair, a huge black man with a round belly and a silver-streaked beard sat as if he were seated on a throne. Gold rings gleamed on his fingers and he wore an expensive dark suit. The girl was smiling as she dropped a grape into his waiting mouth.

  When they walked in, the man turned and smiled, showing gold teeth. This was Uncle Jasper.

  He made a gesture with his hands and the two men with guns stood up and traipsed out of the room. The girl frowned but she too sauntered out.

  “Take a seat boys,” Uncle Jasper said, grinning again, motioning to the settee.

  Bolton and Dante did as he had asked.

  “I’m Uncle Jasper,” he introduced himself, “But then you already knew that.”

  His voice was deep and jovial, a far cry from what Bolton had been expecting.

  “And you’ve already met Barry,” Uncle Jasper continued, waving a hand towards the bodyguard who had led them into the flat. He remained standing by the door, motionless, but Bolton knew that he would be quick to react if anything went wrong. He was a bodyguard.

  Bolton nodded. Beside him, Dante seemed to have frozen with fear. Uncle Jasper didn’t seem to be paying Dante much attention, his question directed towards Bolton.

  “And you are?”

  “I’m Bolton. This is Dante.”

  “So Kareem tells me you wanted a meeting,” Uncle Jasper said, his voice suddenly serious. “A lo
t of people want meetings with me. You’re lucky I agreed. I wouldn’t have, but Kareem said you could be trusted. I hope he wasn’t wrong.”

  “Thank you,” Bolton said, inclining his head. “We wanted the meeting to ask about, well to see if, maybe, we could work for you.”

  Uncle Jasper considered it for a moment and laughed, holding his belly as he did. The noise echoed around the room and it was a few minutes before he composed himself. He looked at Barry and Bolton knew that a smirk had passed between them.

  “What makes you think you’ve got what it takes to work for me?” Uncle Jasper said, leaning forward, his eyes suddenly hard and cold.

  Bolton’s mind was racing and he couldn’t think of what to say.

  “We’ve worked for Harley,” Dante said in a small voice. “We dealt some weed for him, but that’s only small change and we want –”

  “You worked for Harley?” Uncle Jasper said, and laughed again. “He’s a nobody; he only works because I let him have his little patch. I’m not interested in small notes.”

  “Neither are we,” Bolton said, before he could stop himself.

  Uncle Jasper considered them for a moment.

  “Why do you need the money so bad?” he asked. “You in some sort of trouble? Debts? Or drugs?”

  Bolton shook his head.

  “Because nobody who works for me takes the piss,” Uncle Jasper continued. “I expect respect. I ain’t a charity; you work hard for the money you earn.”

  “We’re not in any trouble, sir,” Bolton said, and Uncle Jasper glared at him. “We just need more money. I’m having a baby, that’s why.”

  Uncle Jasper was silent for a few long moments.

  Bolton and Dante waited with baited breath, hardly daring to breathe. Uncle Jasper seemed to be deep in thought.

  As he watched the two boys, Uncle Jasper wondered whether he could make use of them. It was true that he needed more men, especially after the last few arrests. He was three men down and these boys seemed to be savvy, or at least Bolton did. The other one he could take or leave. And Kareem had said they were trustworthy, or they seemed to be.

  He heard a tinkling of laughter from the kitchen and thought of his much-younger girlfriend, Charice. She was younger than most of his kids but she was beautiful and good in bed. The thought made him smile inside and he wanted to get these two out of his hair so he could take her next door.

  “Okay,” he said, and Bolton and Dante leant forwards. “I’ll give you jobs. You can start out with dealing some coke.”

  “Great,” Bolton said, his body relaxing. “Thanks so much, sir.”

  “I’ll send Kareem round to you tomorrow, he’ll show you the ropes,” Uncle Jasper said. “Just remember, you work for me now so I expect the best.”

  Bolton nodded and rose to his feet. Dante did the same.

  They walked to the beaded curtain, but Uncle Jasper had risen to his feet too.

  “And boys, I hope you remember who you’re working for,” he said, his voice cheery but with an underlying menace that made Bolton sweat. “You mess me about, you’re dead.”

  He smiled broadly and Bolton attempted to return the gesture. Barry led them out of the flat and bid them farewell.

  Not until they were back at the car did Bolton sigh with relief.

  * * *

  Charley stood in the kitchen and sipped her glass of white wine. Leigh-Ann watched her apprehensively.

  “You sure you should be drinking so much?”

  Leigh-Ann’s voice was quiet. Charley smiled at her.

  “It’s only a couple of glasses. It’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, not like your downing vodka, is it?” Sasha said, nodding as she joined them, readjusting herself in her red dress. “Besides, my mate Zoe drinks and she’s about to pop, you know.”

  Charley wiped a hand across her forehead. She felt hot in the small flat and she’d been dancing for over an hour. Leigh-Ann had dragged her into the kitchen to complain about Luis, after he’d gone home with another girl. Sasha had given up trying to stop spillages and was drinking vodka from the bottle to ease her nerves.

  “I still can’t believe that Luis guy,” Leigh-Ann said. “I thought he liked me.”

  “You can do better,” Charley said.

  “That girl he went off with is a right slag anyway,” Sasha said. “I heard she’s got crabs, so Luis is going to wish he’d stuck with you by tomorrow morning.”

  Leigh-Ann seemed pleased at this piece of news and smiled.

  The kitchen door opened and Bolton walked in, closely followed by Dante.

  “I was wondering where you’d got to,” Charley said, pulling Bolton into her arms.

  “We just had some business,” Dante said.

  “What kind of business?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Bolton replied. “But I’ll be raking the money in soon.”

  Charley eyed him closely and sighed. Bolton didn’t want to tell her what he’d been doing tonight and she understood his need to keep things quiet. She had only found out he’d worked for Harley because she’d seen them together. Whatever this was, it was obviously a good earner. Charley smiled at this thought. He would be able to provide for her and their baby and at the end of the day, that was what mattered the most.

  “Got any more booze?” Bolton asked, looking at Sasha, deliberately avoiding glancing at her breasts on show in her low-cut red dress.

  She nodded and opened the fridge.

  “Help yourselves to cans.”

  Bolton and Dante took a can of beer each.

  Sasha and Leigh-Ann drifted off into the lounge and Dante eventually left them alone in the kitchen. Charley watched him go, pleased that he wasn’t hanging around them like a fly like he usually did.

  Bolton pulled her against him and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back.

  “Don’t worry about the business,” he said. He looked sincere. “I’m going to be making good money now. I can support you both, like a proper dad.”

  Charley smiled and kissed him again, more passionate this time. She loved him so much. He was so thoughtful. She decided that she didn’t want to know what business he was getting himself involved in. As long as he was there for her and the baby, that was the important thing.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Asher stripped down to his underwear and threw his clothes into his locker. He pulled on his uniform as the door to the men’s changing rooms in the police station opened. He looked around as his friend and beat partner, Carl Hurst, crossed the room.

  “You’re here early,” Carl said, dropping his bag onto the bench in the middle of the room.

  “Couldn’t face breakfast at home this morning,” Asher said. He started doing the buttons up on his shirt, averting his gaze as Carl stripped down too.

  “Things still bad then?”

  Bad was an understatement, Asher thought. It had been a month since Charley had told them she was pregnant but the tension in the flat was still as palpable as the night he had stepped in to stop his mother tearing her to bits. Some days, he reflected, were better than others and Toni was almost friendly to Charley, but this was rare and more often than not they spent as little time together as possible. When they were forced to, such as at meals, they made snide remarks and snapped at each other, sometimes culminating in an argument that Asher had to try and resolve the following day.

  “You could say that,” he answered. “How was your weekend anyway?”

  He was keen to talk about something else. Work was the only time he wasn’t hounded by his mother and didn’t have to think about what lay ahead for them, what the future would bring when Charley had the baby.

  “It was good; me and the missus went to see some show in the West End. I wasn’t really into it, but she’d wanted to go for a while so I got the tickets. Wasn’t bad, I guess.”

  Carl shrugged, and Asher laughed. Carl was his close friend and had taken Asher under his wing when Asher had left the police academy and started train
ing on the beat. Carl was a few years older than him, with dark hair, broad shoulders and a charm that drew the female officers to him in droves, though he never seemed tempted by them.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  He turned to look at Asher.

  “Not much, went down the pub for a few pints and saw a few mates.”

  Carl nodded and pulled his crisp white shirt on over his lean chest. Asher looked away again and busied himself with searching for his jacket and cap in his locker.

  “Wish I could get out to the pub sometime,” Carl said, sounding envious. Asher risked a glance over his shoulder and was relieved that Carl had done up his shirt and was pulling his jacket on now. “Clare won’t let me near one. She’s been trying to get me all excited over some dinner party she’s organising. I’d rather be having a pint down the pub, you know what I mean?”

  Asher nodded.

  When they were fully dressed in their uniform, Carl held the door open for Asher and they left the changing rooms.

  “We in the car today?” Asher asked, as they made their way through the maze of corridors that made up the lower levels of the police station.

  Carl shook his head, sighing.

  “Nope, we’re on the beat today. Trust it to be today, I’ve still got blisters from Saturday night. Walking up and down The Strand, trying to find that damn theatre.”

  Asher smiled and followed Carl down the corridor. He didn’t mind being on the beat. He got fresh air and Carl amused him with stories and jokes. If he faced a choice between staying at home with Toni and Charley tearing chunks out of each other, and patrolling the streets with his best mate and having a laugh, he knew which one he’d choose every time.

  * * *

  “You were supposed to have sorted this out ages ago,” Charley said.

  “I was working on it,” Bolton said. “I’ve been busy with work, you know that.”

  “Well, if I’d left it to you to sort out, I’ll still be living at mum’s flat when the baby comes, and there’s no way I’m going to let that happen.”

  “I told you I’d sort it,” Bolton said.

  “Well we’re here now, so stop going on. It doesn’t matter who sorted it, just as long as it gets done.”