The Goldsworth Series Box Set

by Davie J Toothill

He had everything to live for now, but that just meant that he had all the more to lose if it all went wrong. The thought scared him, made him realise that it was out of his control whether he would be the next one to get locked-up. It was the luck of the draw.

  Uncle Jasper had said as much. Kareem had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. That could happen to anyone, him included.

  Dante cheered as the television came on and music blared out from a music channel. Charley and Leigh-Ann appeared in the doorway and joined them, eyes on the screen. Dante looked proud, though he avoided Charley’s gaze.

  Bolton forced himself to smile as Charley sat beside him and leant against him, her arm resting on his chest. He drove the doubts from his mind and hugged her closer to him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Charley added the finishing touches to her make-up, sitting on her new double bed, and looked up as Bolton walked into the room.

  “You coming out to join the party?” he asked, sitting down beside her, the bed sinking softly beneath his weight.

  Charley nodded. She had been excited for the housewarming party all day, and she wasn’t sure why she had such doubts now that the guests had arrived and the party was getting underway. She had made sure there were plenty of drinks and snacks, had hoovered the floors and dusted the coffee table, but she still knew that her mother would find something to complain about and belittle her with.

  “Give me a minute,” she said, resting a hand on Bolton’s shoulder. “I just need to get myself sorted.”

  Bolton nodded and left the room. She felt bad, leaving him to deal with Toni and the rest of her family, but she couldn’t face them just yet.

  After calming herself down, she checked herself out in the mirror. Her pregnancy was showing now, her stomach large and round, straining against the black fabric of her dress. Her breasts were heavy and felt tender, and she felt self-conscious in the figure hugging outfit that she had picked out on a shopping trip with Leigh-Ann.

  She brushed a stray strand of curled hair off her face and left the bedroom, the music pounding in her ears. Bolton had invited the neighbours to the party, so that they would be less likely to make a noise complaint, but so far they hadn’t shown up and Charley doubted they would make an appearance. They seemed like career-minded people and their sort just didn’t have time for them.

  People, friends of both her and Bolton, stopped her and congratulated her as she made her way across the room. Everyone had drinks and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. She saw Dante in the corner of the room, flirting with a blonde girl that Bolton had invited for his best mate’s sake. Charley looked away, feeling frustrated that she was expected to let him in and out of her home even though she didn’t like him.

  Bolton waved to her from the sofa, where he was talking to his mum and a friend of hers. Julie turned and waved, and Charley returned the gesture. She liked Julie, and made a note to herself to catch-up with her at some point during the evening. With Christmas getting close, she wanted to find out from her what the ideal gift for Bolton would be.

  Asher and Torey were standing in the kitchen, both looking out of place. Torey was tapping her feet in time with the music and checking out the guys, whilst Asher was checking his phone every few seconds. He caught Charley’s eye and waved her over.

  “You guys enjoying yourself?” Charley asked when she reached them.

  “I’ve been to better parties, but it’s all right,” Torey said, sipping at her glass of the homemade punch Leigh-Ann had helped her prepare earlier in the day. “And you could do with some more alcohol in here.”

  “I’m going to have to head off in a few minutes,” Asher said, leaning close so that she could hear him over the music. “It’s the station’s Christmas party tonight and I said I’d stop by and check it out.”

  Charley got distracted when she caught sight of her mother. Toni was dressed for an evening out and had a big woollen coat draped over her shoulders and clutched a glass of shandy. She saw Charley and approached them. Torey groaned and slipped through the crowd before Charley or Asher could stop her.

  “How do you like the party mum?” Charley asked. “Aren’t you hot in that coat?”

  “I’m fine,” Toni said, waving a hand in the air. “It’s cold in here. You should get the boiler looked at if you aren’t getting heating here.”

  Charley stifled a groan and nodded. It was useless arguing with her mother, it would just give her what she wanted. Instead she tried to lighten the mood between them.

  “Are you excited for Christmas?” she asked.

  Toni shrugged.

  “With all of you expecting a roast dinner and presents, I can hardly hold my breath for it,” Toni said, shaking her head. “When you’re a mother, you’ll understand.”

  Charley felt panic in her chest. Her mother was still under the impression that she was coming home for Christmas dinner, when she and Bolton had decided to spend the day in their new flat, making the most of having their own place.

  “Me and Bolton are having Christmas here,” Charley said, crossing her fingers that this wouldn’t start up an argument. “We thought it’d make it easier for you, not having to cook as much.”

  Toni looked as though she had been slapped, torn between the relief that she wouldn’t have to put up with either of them on Christmas Day and frustration that she had lost control and influence over her.

  “Make sure you don’t change your mind then, because I won’t be making extra for you. I can’t afford to keep changing the dinner arrangements at your beck and call.”

  Charley felt relieved that her mother wasn’t making a scene. Asher made his excuses to leave and Charley quickly felt uncomfortable standing beside her mother.

  “I should go and make sure everyone’s enjoying themselves,” Charley said, and Toni shrugged, taking a sip of shandy and swaying slightly, putting a hand out to the counter to steady herself.

  Charley slipped away from her and went back into the lounge. Although she’d been excited about throwing the party, she now felt tired and wished that everyone would go home. She retreated to the bedroom and sat down on the bed, feeling the start of a headache.

  The wardrobe door was half-open and she went to close it when she noticed the cardboard boxes that Bolton had brought round. It had been a few days and he hadn’t mentioned them or made a move to go through them.

  Charley sat cross-legged on the floor and took the lid off the first box. There were layers of plastic wrapping. She discarded it and froze. Instead of finding the photo albums and old toys that she had expected, there was a gun. She rifled through the box and found several more, and she knew that the other box would contain the same.

  So this was his job. This was how he was paying for the flat and for her and their child’s future. Guns. Charley put them away and closed the wardrobe door.

  She sat down on the bed and took a deep breath.

  * * *

  Asher paused before he went into the pub. He had seen Carl at work since he had tried to kiss him, but they had not spoken about the incident. They had reached an unspoken agreement to pretend that it had never happened, though Asher had noticed that Carl was distant from him now and their relationship was more that of acquaintances than friends.

  A hand closed on his shoulder and he jumped. Diane laughed and Asher felt relieved to see her. He had not been planning on coming to the Christmas party, fearing that Carl would have too much to drink and let slip what Asher had done, but Diane had convinced him.

  Since their date, Asher had become close friends with Diane and after being rejected by Carl, he had told Diane what had happened. Whilst shocked and disapproving, Diane had supported him and given him invaluable advice. She had bridged the gap between them, persuading Carl not to ask their sergeant for a new partner and tried to convince Carl that Asher had meant it as a joke and not as a declaration of love.

  “You going in or are you just going to stand there all evening?” Diane asked, her fac
e flushed from a few glasses of wine she’d had before arriving.

  “I’m going in if you are,” Asher replied.

  Diane smiled and took his arm in hers and led them forwards through the heavy oak doors. The party was already in full swing inside the pub, their colleagues scattered around the room, chatting and laughing and getting tipsy.

  “I hate arriving late to a party,” Diane said in his ear, as she led them to the bar. “I bet they’ve nearly finished the tab behind the bar.”

  Asher stopped at the bar and Diane ordered a wine for herself and a pint for him, whilst he scanned the room for a sign of Carl. He found him sitting in the corner, chatting to a few of the guys that they shared a shift with.

  “Try not to stare too hard,” Diane whispered, turning to face him and passing him his pint. “I don’t think he bought anything I said, but he hasn’t said anything to anyone yet, so let’s try and keep it that way.”

  “I didn’t realise I was staring,” Asher sighed, taking a drink from his pint. “I guess where he’s concerned I just don’t realise much.”

  “You might want to put your tongue back in your mouth too,” Diane said, though she said it with a smile. “Straight guys tend not to like being looked at like a piece of meat, especially not by another guy.”

  Asher let out a laugh and took another drink. Diane led him to a table occupied by a few of their colleagues and soon joined in the conversation they were having. Asher sat and half-listened, shooting glances at Carl. He was studiously ignoring him, and Asher felt frustrated and annoyed, both with himself and Carl for the way things had turned out.

  As the alcohol flowed and the evening went on, Asher found his frustrations mounting. Carl avoided his eyes and seemed to be pretending that he wasn’t in the room. Diane hissed warnings and advice in Asher’s ear, but he wasn’t listening.

  The karaoke machine was started up and Diane left to have a sing-song, leaving Asher at the table with two other women. They were chatting and shooting Asher furtive glances, but he ignored them. He didn’t want to lead them on by returning their smiles and end up with another Diane situation on his hands.

  He watched as Carl rose to his feet and headed for the bathrooms. Asher shot a glance at Diane, who was singing on the small stage and slurring her words, a glass of red wine clasped in her hand and a microphone in the other.

  Asher got up and slipped out of the room, heading for the bathroom as well. He pushed the door open and found the room empty. The room was small and damp, the tiles scratched and chipped, and the sinks thick with grime. The cubicle door was closed, and the small sign read engaged.

  He waited and felt apprehensive as the toilet flushed and the cubicle door opened. Carl caught sight of him and paused, looking alarmed, but continued to the sinks and washed his hands. Asher felt his impatience mount. He had made a mistake, but there was no need for Carl to act as if he wasn’t here. It was childish and annoying.

  “You haven’t spoken to me in weeks,” Asher said, hating the whine in his voice. “I already apologized to you. I don’t get why we can’t get back to being mates.”

  “There’s nothing to say,” Carl said, turning off the tap and drying his hands on a blue paper towel. “There wasn’t any need to follow me in here.”

  Asher felt the blush creeping up his cheeks.

  “I wanted to talk to you in private,” Asher said, defiant. “I didn’t think you’d want it broadcast to the rest of the station.”

  “You mean you don’t want it broadcast,” Carl said, scrunching up the towel. “I didn’t do anything wrong. It was you, I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  Carl opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stepped forward, and reached for the door. Asher didn’t move, blocking his way.

  “We need to get this sorted out,” he said.

  “Get out of my way,” Carl said.

  He looked frustrated and ran a hand through his hair in agitation, but Asher didn’t move. He wanted this sorted now, before it took up any more of his time with worry.

  “Not until we talk about this,” Asher said. “This is just getting stupid.”

  “Fine,” Carl said, throwing up his hands. “Let’s fucking talk.”

  “I’m sorry that I kissed you. I misread the signals, I didn’t know what I was doing, and I’m sorry that it’s caused such a big problem for you.”

  Carl sighed.

  “I just didn’t know you were that sort of guy,” he said. Asher looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. He had wanted to talk, and now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear what Carl had to say.

  “Well, I am that kind of guy,” Asher said in a low voice. “And if you can’t deal with it, then you’d better ask the sergeant for a new partner, because I can’t change who I am.”

  Asher refused to meet his eyes, and Carl was quiet. When he looked up, Carl was looking at him, confused and uncertain.

  “That’s all I had to say,” Asher said.

  He turned to open the door and felt Carl’s hand on his arm. He was spun around and flinched, expecting a blow to connect with his face. Perhaps he deserved it.

  No blow came and Asher opened his eyes. Carl was inches from him and their eyes met. Asher remained frozen to the spot. Carl moved closer, pressing him against the back of the door and raising his hands to either side of Asher’s face, pulling him closer and kissing him. Asher was unable to move for the shock, but his body responded and he kissed him back.

  When the kiss stopped, Carl’s hands remained on his face, their lips inches apart. Asher thought he would stop breathing any minute or wake-up to find that this was a dream.

  “What was that about?” he asked when his voice returned.

  Carl remained silent, staring at him, almost as shocked by what had happened as Asher was. Asher took Carl’s hands in his and lowered them from his face.

  “Come spend the night with me tonight,” Carl said, his voice so quiet that Asher would have doubted it had come from him if he hadn’t seen his lips move.

  Asher nodded.

  Loud laughter came from the pub and Diane’s singing started up again, her words more slurred than before.

  “Clare’s visiting her sister in Kent this weekend,” Carl continued. “We can go home now, if you want.”

  Hardly daring to believe his luck, Asher nodded.

  * * *

  Charley waited for all the guests to leave and watched as Bolton locked the front door behind the last of them. She sat in the lounge, trying to ignore the mess around her and the inevitable clean-up tomorrow morning. Bolton turned to face her and smiled.

  He had been drinking since early afternoon, helping himself to the homemade punch whilst she and Leigh-Ann were preparing it, and Charley had seen him slip into the spare bedroom with Dante a few times during the course of the evening. She knew that they were snorting coke, not just because she recognised the signs in Bolton when he rejoined the party, but because she had seen Dante pass him a small pouch of white powder as he left, and Bolton had put it in his pocket with a goofy smile.

  “That was a good night,” Bolton said, sitting down beside her and putting his feet up. “Nobody can say we don’t know how to throw a good party now.”

  He pulled off his socks and dropped them onto the carpet, nearly knocking over a can of cider. Charley remained silent and Bolton looked at her.

  “Did your mum get her taxi all right?” he asked, rubbing her legs.

  “Yeah, her and Torey were tearing strips out of each other when they left,” she said. “God help that poor taxi driver, listening to those two.”

  Bolton laughed and continued stroking her legs, his hands inching higher up to her thighs.

  “At least it’s only a couple minutes’ drive, and I guess your mum’s got to take it all out on someone now you’re not there.”

  Charley shifted in her seat and Bolton moved his hands, looking at her in bewilderment. Charley
avoided his eyes.

  “I didn’t see your mum leave,” she said. “I was going to have a chat with her.”

  “She got a cab with her mate. And you’ll see her around. Bet you wanted to ask her what I want for Christmas, eh?”

  Charley felt the familiar pull of him, his awareness of what she was thinking such an attractive quality. Yet it brought her anger as well. He had lied to her, brought guns and drugs into their home, and her body still yearned for him despite his betrayal.

  “Well I wasn’t going to tell her you’ve been doing lines all night, was I?”

  Her voice was harsh and quiet, and Bolton was caught off guard. His eyes widened, but he frowned and a quizzical look came over him.

  “What you talking about babe?” he asked, his voice the epitome of innocence, but Charley could see through it, and it unnerved her that he was such an adept liar that if she had not seen it with her own eyes, she would have believed him.

  “You know what I’m talking about,” Charley said, letting out a hiss of air and moving out of Bolton’s reach, so he couldn’t caress her. “Do you think I’m that stupid? I saw you and Dante go into the other room for your little trips to gaga-land.”

  Bolton looked frustrated and a little uncomfortable, but Charley was past caring. He had lied to her and she couldn’t let him get away with it this time. Leigh-Ann was right in what she said, if you let someone get away with it once, they would take the piss.

  “That’s Dante’s scene, not mine,” Bolton sighed. “You know what he’s like, I wanted to keep an eye on him.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still lying about it when I saw you with my own eyes,” Charley said, getting off the couch, circling the coffee table so she was opposite him. He shook his head, as if he was the one dealing with somebody unreasonable. Charley leaned forward, hands on hips, “Turn out your pockets then.”

  Bolton looked up at her, but didn’t move.

  “Babe, come on. You’re tired,” he said, giving her a look of concern that made Charley glare. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

  “After you’ve had a chance to flush it, you mean?” Charley snapped. Her voice was louder, irritated by his calm and collected manner. “Don’t try and kid me, I know you.”