“You going to miss me?” she asked Torey, looking down at her.
“Like a dog misses fleas,” Torey said, busy on her phone.
“I guess that’s Devon you’re texting. Have you asked him out yet?”
“That’s none of your business.”
Charley felt a moment’s sadness that she and her half-sister had never been close. They should have been inseparable, growing up as two females on a rough estate, united against their mother. Instead, they’d drifted their separate ways, divided by age and their own groups of friends. The only thing they had in common was their dislike of their mother, and that wasn’t enough to bond over.
Now it was too late to try and fix things, and Charley regretted it. She had Leigh-Ann, who was like a sister to her, but it still wasn’t the same as having a blood sister to look out for and be looked out for in return.
Perhaps it was the fact that they had been brought up in two different environments. Charley had never known her father and had only had Asher and Toni as her influences when she was growing up. And she was grateful that she had avoided turning into her mother, even though she knew they both shared a short fuse and loud mouth.
Torey, on the other hand, had known her father. She and Huw had been taken on days out by him, albeit infrequently, but they had still had a bond with someone outside the flat as they grew up. Charley had envied her this, wishing that she had a male role model who could stand up for her against Toni’s rules and moods. A wedge had been driven between the sisters from a young age, and Charley didn’t know whether it could be removed after so much time.
“You can visit us anytime,” Charley said, wanting to leave on a positive note with her sister. “We’ve got a spare bedroom, if you ever need a place to crash.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” Torey said, not looking up from her phone. “It’s bad enough living with mum. I don’t want to make it any worse by hanging out with you.”
Charley sighed and left the room, handbag slung over her shoulder. So much for trying to make amends with her sister. She wasn’t interested in making peace, not when she only had eyes for Devon.
In his bedroom, Huw was playing videogames and Charley knew better than to disturb him. He would throw a tantrum and she would get an earful from her mum. Instead, she went into the kitchen. Toni looked up at her from the kitchen table.
“I’ve finished packing,” Charley said. “Leigh-Ann’s going to pick me up in her mum’s car and give me a lift in a few minutes.”
“That’s nice of her,” Toni said.
Charley nodded. She wasn’t sure what to say to her mother. Their relationship had been so fraught with tension and was based on arguments and a mutual dislike. A hug seemed out of the question, and pleasantries would seem forced and contrived.
“I think I’ll go and wait outside,” Charley said, at a loss as to what else she could say. “Asher’s going to help me carry the boxes downstairs.”
“He’s a good boy,” Toni said, smiling. “I raised him well.”
Charley shrugged.
“Well, goodbye then.”
Toni looked at her and Charley thought she saw a flicker of emotion behind her mother’s eyes but then Toni was back to reading the paper.
“Make sure you leave the door on latch,” she said, not meeting Charley’s eyes. “Or Asher won’t be able to get back in.”
Charley nodded and left the kitchen. Asher was standing in the hall. His mood had improved over the past few weeks and he had returned to work. Charley wasn’t sure why he had been thinking of resigning but she hoped that whatever it was had been sorted out now.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ve said my goodbyes,” Charley said, hating how wistful her voice sounded.
Asher lifted the two cardboard boxes up and Charley opened the front door, making sure the latch was on. She grabbed the handle of the suitcase and dragged it out into the corridor. Asher was already on the stairs, sweat forming on his forehead with the strain of carrying the boxes. Charley glanced back and got a last look of her old home, before the door swung shut and she made her way down the stairs.
* * *
Bolton looked around the newly furnished flat and nodded in approval. Dante sat on the sofa, smoking and looking annoyed.
“You aren’t still pissed off are you?” Bolton asked, dropping into the seat beside him.
Dante looked at him and shrugged.
“Nah, why would I be?” he said. “Not like you’ve moved to Brazil.”
“I’m only a few minutes’ drive away. I’ll still see you every day.”
“Yeah, I know that.”
Dante smiled and rose to his feet, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray.
“Glad we got that cleared up,” Bolton said.
“Yeah,” Dante nodded. “I’d better get going. Last thing Charley wants is to see me.”
“She doesn’t have a problem with you.”
Dante laughed and pulled his jacket on over his top, before leaving the flat. Bolton felt relieved that he had gone. He was nervous enough without Dante’s edginess rubbing off on him. He had made sure the furniture was all in place ready for Charley arriving and he hoped that she liked it all.
A few minutes passed and there was a knock on the front door. Bolton leapt off the sofa and opened it. Charley was beaming at him, Leigh-Ann standing behind her peering over her shoulder.
He showed her around the flat and was relieved and pleased as her smile grew wider as she took in their new home. As they went from room to room, he couldn’t help but notice how much her pregnancy was beginning to show on her body.
Her stomach was growing rounder, at odds with the rest of her thin figure, and her breasts were straining against the silk fabric of her top. Her face was glowing, and Bolton appreciated the saying that pregnant women had a certain glow about them. For six months pregnant, Bolton had to admit that Charley was still smoking hot.
When they returned to the lounge, Leigh-Ann threw him the keys to her car.
“She’s got two boxes in the boot and I draw the line at playing chauffeur and removal man,” she said.
Bolton nodded and jogged down the flight of stairs. He heaved the boxes into his arms and brought them up, wondering how she had accumulated so much stuff on such a tight budget.
He found Charley and Leigh-Ann in the kitchen, the kettle boiling.
“Tea or coffee?” Charley asked. “I couldn’t resist trying out our new appliances.”
Bolton couldn’t help but smile.
“Coffee for me.”
He took the boxes through to the master bedroom and eyed the double bed that his mum had made this morning. She had laid out a red quilt over the bottom of the spread, adding a homely touch to the otherwise plain room. He couldn’t wait until their first night in their new flat, testing out the mattress springs with Charley.
His phone rang in his pocket and he flipped it open and answered.
“I got some bad news,” Dante said, and Bolton could hear the car engine running in the background. “I just heard from one of the guys. Kareem got arrested this morning.”
“Shit, man,” Bolton said, his heart rate quickening. “What happened?”
“I’m not too sure, but we got to be careful. Who knows what he’s going to say when they get him in that interview room.”
“Fuck.”
Bolton hoped that the threat of Uncle Jasper’s wrath would keep Kareem’s mouth firmly shut when he was questioned, but he couldn’t be sure. The police had a way of getting people to talk, even if it wasn’t in their best interests.
If Kareem talked, everything would be at risk. Bolton knew his name would come up and even if it didn’t, Uncle Jasper would have to cool his businesses down whilst the investigation went on and that meant the wages would stop and Bolton would be in the shit.
“Shit, we got to go and see Uncle Jasper,” Bolton said. “Find out what’s going down.”
* * *
> Half an hour later, Bolton took a seat in front of Uncle Jasper. Dante fidgeted beside him, picking at a loose thread from his jumper. Even after numerous meetings in the flat, Dante still got nervous and Bolton felt his own palms sweating as Uncle Jasper looked over at them, his hands clasped in front of him, the gold jewellery glinting in the weak sunshine coming through the windows.
“I don’t want you boys getting worried,” Uncle Jasper said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Kareem was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and he won’t be saying anything to the police.”
“How can you be sure?” Bolton asked before he could stop himself.
Uncle Jasper looked at him with curiosity. Nobody spoke out of turn during a meeting with him. Bolton gritted his teeth, wondering if he had blown it all, but Uncle Jasper smiled.
“He’ll be getting a payoff for the inconvenience of being inside,” he replied, still watching Bolton with curiosity. “And I’ve got a few jobs he can run whilst he’s locked up. He’s still on the payroll and I offer better compensation than the police do.”
Bolton felt his heartbeat slow down. Perhaps things weren’t as bad as he had first thought. He was still on the edge, but he was no longer looking into the abyss.
“His arrest does leave me with a few problems, though,” Uncle Jasper continued, frowning. “He was running a few jobs for me which, for obvious reasons, he’s now unable to do. I need someone else to take over from him, at least until he gets out, which won’t be for a few months, I believe.”
“What was he doing?” Dante asked, leaning forward, his leg begin to shake.
Uncle Jasper looked at him and Bolton thought he saw irritation on his face, before Uncle Jasper composed his face. He knew that Uncle Jasper saw Dante as an inconvenience and a small time foot soldier, and only gave him the time of day because he was Bolton’s sidekick. Bolton wasn’t sure if Dante had picked up on it, but he hadn’t said anything so he figured that he probably didn’t know.
“He was selling a few firearms for me,” Uncle Jasper said. “It’s an easy job, but our customers can be a little tricky. I’ve got a few men in Europe who ship them over to us. Replicas and the real thing, and then I sell them on for a tidy profit.”
“Who do we sell them to?” Bolton asked.
The job sounded easy enough. He just had to pick the guns up from Uncle Jasper’s European counterparts and store them until a buyer was found, and something told him there was no shortage of willing customers.
“Anyone who wants them,” Uncle Jasper replied, lowering his voice. “Mostly boy gangs here in London. Pimps and dealers, people who could do with having some back-up if things go wrong.”
“How do we find them?”
Something told him that they couldn’t put them up on eBay for sale.
“They’ll get in touch with me or Ritchie. You won’t be involved in the negotiations. All I need you to do is pick the guns up and keep them safe. I’ll let you know when and where to meet the buyer. You just need to meet them, get the money and hand over the merchandise. That’s it, job done.”
Bolton nodded, feeling confident. This sounded easier and more risk-free than the drug pick-ups. Somebody who wanted to buy a gun from them was not a threat to them. People knew better than to cause trouble with a firearm dealer, especially if they might become a repeat customer.
“Is it dangerous?” Dante asked, clearly not as quick on the uptake.
Bolton stifled a groan, but Uncle Jasper smiled.
“It depends how well you handle things,” he answered. “You try and rip these guys off and you’ll regret it. If you do things like I tell you, there won’t be any problems.”
Dante swallowed hard and nodded.
“When do we start?” Bolton asked.
“Now,” Uncle Jasper said, waving Ritchie over, who had been standing by the door to the kitchen, looking alert and menacing. “When Kareem got arrested, we managed to get the guns he was storing out of his flat before the police did their searches. For obvious reasons, we can’t have them here. You know how I like to distance myself from incriminating evidence,” he added, grinning. “It’s only a few, and we have a customer lined up and the negotiations should be closing today. You’ll need to take them off my hands, and I’ll have Ritchie contact with you with the details of the transaction.”
“Where do we store them?” Dante asked.
“Somewhere safe,” Uncle Jasper said.
Dante looked at Bolton. Bolton felt his heart sink. He knew where they would have to be stored. Dante’s house was too busy, a hive of family activity. It would be too risky to store them there. And he couldn’t keep them at his mum’s flat, not when she was so nosy in searching his bedroom.
It would have to be his new flat.
“You have somewhere in mind?” Uncle Jasper asked, directing the question at Bolton.
He nodded.
He thought of Charley’s face and decided not to tell her. He would have to bring them up in a cardboard box and tell her it was more of his stuff and hide it in a wardrobe until the customer took them off his hands.
“Good,” Uncle Jasper said, clapping his hands together. “I knew I could count on you.”
* * *
“Where did Bolton have to run off to so quickly?” Leigh-Ann asked, sipping her coffee with both hands wrapped around the mug, avoiding her gaze.
Charley sighed.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It was something to do with work.”
Leigh-Ann’s lips thinned, but she kept her own counsel.
“I don’t mind,” Charley said, sensing what her friend was thinking. “I mean, he’s paying the rent, I don’t expect him to be here with me all the time. If it wasn’t for his job, I’d still be stuck at home with my mum, and I know where I’d rather be.”
“All the same, you need to be careful,” Leigh-Ann said. “Give him too much independence and he’ll take you for a ride.”
“He wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Trust me; it’s happened to me before. You let a guy get away with a few things and he takes it as a given that he can take more. Before you know it, he’ll be off with someone else and you’ll be left here holding the baby, literally.”
Charley was grateful for Leigh-Ann’s support and knew that Leigh-Ann was only looking out for her, but she was becoming irritated with Leigh-Ann’s determination to make Bolton out to be a bad guy.
“He knows how much I’ll put up with,” Charley said, trying hard to keep her voice level. “I’m no pushover, he won’t take advantage. He knows I won’t stand for that.”
Leigh-Ann nodded but Charley knew that she wasn’t convinced.
A key turned in the lock and they both turned as Bolton came in, holding a cardboard box in his arms. Dante was a few steps behind him, another box in his arms.
“I didn’t realise you had more stuff,” Charley said, standing up and crossing the room. “If you leave them in the bedroom I’ll sort them out for you.”
“It’s all right, it’s just some stuff from when I was a kid,” Bolton said, shifting the box in his arms. “Mum wanted me to bring it over, you know what she’s like about that kind of stuff. I’ll just chuck it in a wardrobe for now.”
Charley shrugged and watched as they went through to the bedroom. She heard muttering and the sound of the wardrobe being opened and closed.
“See, he weren’t gone that long,” Charley said, turning to Leigh-Ann.
Bolton returned to the room and slipped his arms around her waist. Dante stood behind him, looking uncomfortable, but eyeing up Leigh-Ann all the same. Charley smiled at him but he didn’t return the gesture.
“We’re just going to chill out here for a bit,” Bolton said, breathing onto Charley’s neck. “We might have to go out later, though. Some problems at work.”
Charley turned to face him, alarmed at the thought.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, it’s getting sorted.”
&nb
sp; Bolton let go of her and gestured for Dante to follow him into the lounge. Dante traipsed after him, shooting a glance in Charley’s direction. Leigh-Ann rolled her eyes at him.
“If you’re going in there, you can sort out that television,” Charley called after them. “We’re not getting all the channels. I think it’s something to do with the wires.”
“I’ll have a look,” Bolton called back.
Charley sat back down and caught Leigh-Ann’s eye.
“I told you it was fine,” Charley said, smiling. “I’ve got him well-trained.”
“You can teach him the rules,” Leigh-Ann said, drinking her coffee, “but you can’t make him follow them.”
* * *
In the lounge, Bolton sat back on the sofa whilst Dante fiddled with the wires at the back of the television.
“Do you reckon she’ll find them?” Dante asked, looking up at him.
“Nah, by the time she remembers I took the boxes in there, they’ll be gone.”
“I hope you’re right,” Dante said, shaking his head. “If she finds out about this, she’s going to go nuts and we’ll all be in the shit then.”
“Stop worrying, she won’t find them.”
“If you say so.”
Bolton fell quiet and watched as Dante worked on the television. An image flickered on the screen before fading again.
He thought about Kareem getting arrested and wondered what he was doing now. He’d be in a prison cell, locked up away from his family and friends. The thought made Bolton worried.
He imagined himself in his position, away from Charley and his mum, destined to spend the next year or more in a small room with bars and a lock on the door for which he had no key.
It was all because Kareem had wanted money.
Bolton wondered if he would get arrested and knew that it was a risk. He had known that when he started working for Uncle Jasper but it was brought home to him now. He shuddered and tried to drive the thoughts from his mind.
The Goldsworth Series Box Set Page 53