* * *
Asher stumbled home and paused outside his block of flats. His evening with Carl had been wonderful. They had sat at the bar and drank pint after pint, laughing and telling each other stories from the past. Then Carl had gotten a call from his wife and he’d finished his pint and set off for home, leaving Asher to walk home.
He had been disappointed when Carl had left. They were such good friends that Asher wished they could have spent more time together. His wife was probably drunk and bored, he thought, and felt a pang of jealousy that took him by surprise.
Letting himself into the block and climbing the stairs, Asher wondered why he felt so disappointed. He would see Carl tomorrow at work. The thought cheered him somewhat.
Still, there was something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. As much he liked Carl as a friend, he felt as if he wanted more. He wanted to be with him all the time. Laughing, joking and having a few drinks. Watching films together, moaning about the long hours they worked and the poor pay, singing along to the juke box together and kissing.
No, not kissing. Asher shook his head as he reached the front door to his flat. That was wrong. He was just drunk, that was all. He didn’t want to kiss Carl. Carl was a mate. He was a man. It was wrong on too many levels.
As Asher climbed into bed five minutes later, he couldn’t help but think about kissing Carl. It would feel good, he thought. He wanted to kiss him. He felt himself beginning to stir. Huw was still snoring, fast asleep, in his bed on the other side of the room. The flat was quiet and with thoughts of Carl filling his mind, Asher slipped his hand into his Calvin Klein’s.
* * *
Bolton held his breath as Uncle Jasper unzipped the sports bag and surveyed the contents with sharp eyes.
He started pulling out the plastic bags of cocaine and piled the packages upon the coffee table. After the last one had been taken out, Uncle Jasper looked at Bolton.
Beside him, he could feel Dante shaking. Kareem was staring straight ahead, waiting for Uncle Jasper’s verdict. Bolton was praying that they hadn’t been ripped off. He didn’t want to think about what would become of them if they had gotten him ripped off. As Bolton had done, Uncle Jasper dipped a finger into the powder and rubbed it into his gums, tasting it.
“Everything seems to be in order,” Uncle Jasper said, and broke into a smile, his golden teeth gleaming in the harsh overhead lighting. “Well done, boys.”
Bolton let the air out of his lungs and realised he had been holding his breath. Dante seemed more relaxed too, his shoulders slumping forward and he wiped his forehead with the arm of his jumper.
“I think this deserves a celebration,” Uncle Jasper continued. “Nadine, get us some champagne.”
A young woman with bright red hair, teased high on top of her head, strutted out of the room and returned a few moments later with an ice bucket, some glasses and a bottle of champagne.
As Bolton sat down on the sofa, he noticed that Ritchie was frowning as he piled the packages back into the sports bag. Perhaps he’d been hoping they would fail, Bolton thought, but pushed it from his mind. He didn’t know why he would be disappointed with them, but it wasn’t his approval they were after. It was Uncle Jasper’s, and they seemed to have gained it.
Uncle Jasper opened the champagne bottle with a satisfying pop and filled the glasses. Bolton took his gratefully and sipped at it. It was the expensive stuff. Dante gulped his down, the relief still clear on his face. Kareem took his glass but didn’t drink from it.
Ritchie looked expectantly at Uncle Jasper.
“You can take the goods and put it in the safe,” he said, and Ritchie picked up the sports bag and left the room with a scowl.
“Cheers, boys,” Uncle Jasper said, raising his glass.
Bolton raised his glass and they clinked.
“Do you think you’re ready to make these pick-ups a regular thing?” he asked, directing the question, as usual, towards Bolton rather than Dante.
Bolton considered the question for a moment.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” he said.
Uncle Jasper’s smile widened.
“Confidence, I like that. Kareem, you think they’re ready?”
Kareem glanced uncertainly at Dante but nodded, although Bolton thought he saw Uncle Jasper catch the glance.
“They did well tonight,” Kareem said. “They can handle it.”
“Good man. Let’s make it a regular thing, then.”
Bolton sipped his champagne, feeling elated. Not only had they succeeded in the task he’d set them, but now they’d be earning a proper wage. Pick-ups were big earners and he knew that this would be a lucrative job.
“Thanks, sir,” Bolton said, tipping his head towards Uncle Jasper.
“I reward people who do well,” he said. “And you’re going to go places, I can tell.”
Bolton felt his cheeks flush at the praise.
Uncle Jasper reached behind him and pulled out a smaller bag of black leather. He opened it and pulled out three bundles of cash, tied in elastic bands.
“Your money, before I forget,” he said, passing one bundle to each of them.
Bolton took his and felt awed at the amount of money he was holding in his hands.
“Five hundred pounds each,” Uncle Jasper said. “And well earned.”
Bolton put the money into his pocket and drained the last of his champagne. Nadine, the redhead, slipped onto Uncle Jasper’s lap and Bolton wondered whether it was their cue to leave the flat. He was about to stand when Uncle Jasper held up the bottle of champagne.
“Have some more,” Uncle Jasper said, topping up their glasses. “We’re celebrating.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Charley sat on Bolton’s bed and twisted her hands together. Bolton clasped her wrist but she shook him off and stood up, resuming her pacing of his room.
“They wouldn’t even give me a date,” she said, thinking back to the meeting at the council office. “No guarantees, that’s what they said.”
“Don’t get worked up, it ain’t good for you or the baby when you get stressed out like this,” Bolton said, his voice frustrated.
Charley felt her agitation rise at his words.
“Are you serious? They’re not going to give us a flat, I can tell that much already,” she said, her voice rising. “I should’ve taken my mum with me. Once they’d seen what I was living with, they might have bumped me up to first on the list.”
“The council are pricks, we already knew that. We’ve just got to be patient.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Charley snapped. “You don’t live with my mum.”
“Come on, she can’t be that bad.”
Charley laughed.
“You want to try and live with her?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Bolton considered it for a moment and shook his head. “Exactly. And she’s been even worse lately, since she got some weird letter in the post.”
“What letter?”
“I don’t know, but she’s been acting funny ever since,” Charley replied. She thought of her mother’s unusual behaviour. She had seemed more on edge lately, more prone to arguments and irrational outbursts. And Charley had searched for any suspicious mail around the flat, but her mother had either hidden it well or thrown it out. “Anyway, what are we going to do about somewhere to live? I can’t stay with mum much longer, I’ll go insane.”
“I’ll find us somewhere, don’t worry,” Bolton said.
His voice was reassuring, but Charley refused to be satisfied. She knew that he meant well, trying to calm her down, but she had to know she would be leaving home soon. It would help keep her focused and calm when her mother was in one of her moods.
“The council ain’t going to give us a place, you’d just be wasting your time and –”
“Who said anything about going to the council?” Bolton asked. “I’ll find us a decent place.”
“We can’t afford to rent anywhere, if that’s what you�
�re thinking.”
“Just leave it to me, babe.”
Charley had stopped pacing the room and eyed Bolton, as if daring herself to hope that this meant what she thought it did.
“You mean you can afford to rent a place?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“Yeah,” Bolton said, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m earning a decent wedge now, so I’ll sort us something out.”
“Seriously? You can afford to rent us somewhere?” Charley said, breathless with excitement. Bolton nodded, a smile curling at his lips. “That’s amazing. It’s brilliant.”
She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his face. Her heart was beating fast, her agitation seemed to be melting away. As she released him, he smiled up at her, his eyes shining.
Charley kissed him on the lips.
“This is why I love you so much.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Bolton said, smiling. “Now, you should be taking it easy, so stop worrying about your mum and finding a flat.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and led her back to the bed. Charley allowed him to pull her down onto the duvet and she relaxed against the pillows, Bolton’s arm around her. “I’ll take care of the flat,” he continued. “And you know what your mum’s like. She’s probably angry about having to pay a gas bill or something stupid like that. You just need to chill out and relax. Take it easy, babe.”
Charley realised that her heart rate had returned to normal and the knot in her stomach had loosened. Bolton’s arm felt reassuring around her waist, his hand resting gently on her stomach. She could feel his soft breathing and the rise and fall of his chest.
She felt tired and realised how much her frantic pacing and worries had exhausted her. She relaxed against Bolton and smelt his deodorant and the faint trace of dirty socks from the pile of laundry in the corner of the room, and felt comfortable.
“You’re right,” she said, smiling as her eyes closed. “What would I do without you?”
* * *
Asher watched as Carl crossed the locker room towards him. He looked tired, with dark smudges under his eyes and his hair still tousled from the shower.
“Morning,” Asher said, pulling his shirt on.
Carl mumbled a greeting and began to strip out of his jeans and t-shirt. Asher glanced away, feeling his face flush.
“You look tired,” he said, chancing a look at his partner.
Carl was pulling off his jeans, and Asher couldn’t help but notice the black Calvin Klein’s he was wearing. Feeling himself starting to stir, he forced himself to look away.
“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night,” Carl replied.
Asher eyed him closely. Carl pulled on his black uniform trousers and turned to face him.
“Like that, is it?” Asher said, forcing a smile.
The thought of Carl and Clare having sex forced itself into his mind and he struggled to get rid of it. He didn’t need anything clouding his judgement today, not whilst he was on the beat.
“I wish,” Carl said, catching Asher’s drift. He pulled a white shirt over his shoulders and began to do up the buttons. “I was sleeping on the couch, actually.”
Asher was surprised and frowned.
“What did you do wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Carl said, shrugging. “She just needed some space, that’s all.”
“Right.”
Asher did up his own shirt and an awkward silence fell over them. He had mixed emotions over the thought of Carl having problems with his wife. On the one hand, he felt secretly pleased that Carl could be back on the market soon. On the other, Carl was his friend and partner and he didn’t want to see him upset, no matter what the cause. And even if Carl did end up single again, he reflected sadly, he stood no chance where he was concerned.
“Is everything all right with you guys?” Asher asked, trying to keep his voice light.
Carl looked up from pulling on his shoes and sighed.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said, lowering his gaze. “She was just on her monthly. Had one of her moods on, you know.”
Asher nodded.
“With my mum and two teenage sisters? Trust me, I get what you mean.”
Carl laughed and Asher was pleased he could put a smile on Carl’s face. He turned to his locker and busied himself with retrieving his police issue vest to hide his goofy grin.
“Anyway, what about you?” Carl asked from behind him.
Asher turned and was surprised at how close Carl was standing to him.
“What about me?”
“You got any ladies on the go?” Carl asked, opening his own locker.
Asher took a few steps backwards, feeling heat rush to his face at the proximity of him. A whiff of aftershave reached him and he felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead.
“Nah, mate,” Asher said, shaking his head, wiping away the sweat. “Not at the moment, anyway.”
“Wouldn’t have thought you’d have any problems,” Carl said, turning to face him, pulling on his own vest. Asher tried to maintain his eye contact. “Police officer and all that, I mean. The ladies like a man in uniform, you know.”
Asher felt his face began to burn. It was times like these, when Carl complimented him, that he got the briefest hope that he could be with him.
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“You got your eye on anyone then?” Carl asked, fastening his vest and helping Asher with his.
Asher wondered what Carl’s reaction would be if he told him the truth. That he’d fantasised for months about kissing him. Taking him to bed and spending hours making love. He became aware that Carl was watching him curiously, having finished helping Asher with his vest, and he flushed furiously.
Carl was about to open his mouth when the locker room door opened and Diane, a female police officer with sandy blonde hair and a pale complexion, stuck her head round the door.
“Boys, you ready? Your shift starts in a minute,” she said, pushing the door open wider and walking in, having deduced that they were fully dressed in their uniforms. “Sergeant sent me to check up on you, make sure you ladies weren’t going to stay in here gossiping all day.”
“We’re ready now,” Carl said, shooting a glance at Asher, who was still blushing.
“What were you chatting about, anyway?” Diane asked, looking from one to the other.
Asher blushed harder, imagining the gossip that would spread if Carl told her what they had been talking about. He was relieved that they couldn’t read his mind, but Diane’s curious gaze unnerved him. Did she know what he was thinking?
“Nothing really, lads chat, that sort of stuff,” Carl said.
Diane groaned and rolled her eyes.
“Typical,” she said, heading back towards the door. “You’ve got two minutes.”
She left the room and closed the door behind her.
Asher glanced at Carl and felt relieved that he hadn’t said anything to Diane. Not that it would matter, but the last thing he needed was for everyone at the station to start questioning him about his love life.
“Guess we’d better get going then,” he said, closing his locker and avoiding looking at Carl.
“No way, not Diane,” Carl said in a whisper, closing his own locker.
“Diane?”
“Mate, you should get in there. You could do a lot worse than her.”
Asher felt his mind racing. Then he understood. Carl had taken his blushes to mean he fancied Diane. The thought made Asher feel amused, then alarmed.
“No, it’s not like that, it’s –”
“Hey, I ain’t judging mate,” Carl said, heading for the door. “She’s a nice girl. You should just bite the bullet, ask her out for a drink or something. You obviously like her.”
Carl opened the door and paused to wait for Asher.
“Yeah, maybe,” Asher managed.
He felt miserable as he crossed the room after Carl. Now Carl thought he fancied Diane and
would probably expect him to ask her out or he might get suspicious. And if Carl was, by a small chance, interested in him, Asher had just blown his chances.
As he closed the locker room door behind him and headed down the corridor with Carl to where Diane and the sergeant were waiting for them, he wondered how a day could start so badly.
* * *
Toni waited until the flat was empty before she sat down at the kitchen table and tore the letter open.
The second letter from Nathaniel Okoro had arrived in the morning. She had been preoccupied with Charley when the post had been delivered. Charley had been going round to Bolton’s flat and Toni had been determined to stop her from going out, but Huw had distracted her and Charley had slipped out the front door and down the steps before Toni could catch her.
It was then, in the corridor, that she saw Torey coming up the stairs with a bundle of envelopes and the post key dangling from her fingers.
She had snatched the key and the post from her when she’d reached the flat door. Torey had protested and gone into a rant, but Toni had ignored her. She skimmed through the envelopes and had shuddered when she found one with Nathaniel’s untidy scrawl.
Folding it and sliding it into her pocket, she had sent Torey and Huw off to school and had put the key around her neck, the thin chain cold and uncomfortable on her neck, but at least it was safe. She didn’t need another close call.
Toni dreaded to think what might have happened if Torey had opened the letter and read the contents. Perhaps nothing. Torey wasn’t too bright. But if she’d told Charley or Asher what she had read, they might make something of it. Charley was too smart for her own good, at least in matters like these. Spying and questioning, that was what she did.
Toni knew that her eldest daughter had been suspicious since the first letter had arrived, and she had been careful not to let her guard down around her.
In a way, it was a relief that Charley wasn’t hanging around the flat, popping in to the kitchen to check on her every few minutes as if to catch her out. Even though she was with Bolton, at least she was out of the flat and out of her hair for a while.
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