Bolton looked at him in surprise. He knew who had killed Chris. A smile crept onto Uncle Jasper’s face.
“I know everything that happens around here,” he said, and Bolton didn’t doubt him. “It also happens that I was the one who killed him.”
Bolton gasped. His heart hammered against his ribs and his palms began to sweat. Uncle Jasper was watching him closely, his eyes narrowing and the smile gone.
“Are you shocked?” he asked.
Bolton nodded. Uncle Jasper continued watching him.
“You’re a good kid,” he continued. Bolton listened, trying not to show his fear. “I see potential in you. You remind me a lot of me when I was your age. Cliché, I know, but humour me. I’ve been looking for a disciple, of sorts.”
“A disciple?” Bolton repeated, his mind in overdrive.
“Yes, for lack of a better term,” Uncle Jasper said, his tone gentle. “I’m no spring chicken and I want to take a back seat. To do that, I need someone I can rely on. Somebody I can train and that I can count on. I’ve chosen you.”
“Me?” Bolton stammered. “What about Ritchie?”
Uncle Jasper shook his head.
“No, I’ve made my decision.”
Bolton went quiet. This was all too much to take in. He wondered if Ritchie knew about this decision. If he did, it explained why he had been so cool towards him.
“Now, I’m sure you appreciate that the money you’ll be making will be significant,” Uncle Jasper continued. “But I expect loyalty. As long as you’re loyal, you’ll be well rewarded.”
“What about Chris Germaine?” Bolton said, his mind still trying to catch up.
“I could hardly have my new protégé being beaten black and blue, with no repercussions for the one responsible,” he replied, smiling again, relishing the memory. “He learnt his lesson, before he died. You’d be surprised how much respect you can teach someone with a blowtorch in your hand.”
Bolton nodded, feeling sick. The thought of Chris Germaine being tortured with a blowtorch was not one that he wanted imprinted in his head.
Uncle Jasper watched him closely. Bolton swallowed down the bile rising in his throat and met his eyes.
“Don’t worry, the police are heading down the wrong trail,” he said, giving Bolton a reassuring wink. “They won’t know that you or I were involved in his murder. Now, on to more important things. As my protégé, I will be increasing your wages. You can still do your regular pick-ups with your friend, but I will be giving you private lessons. Show you how I’ve become so successful; train you up so that, one day, you can take over the reins.”
Bolton nodded and listened as Uncle Jasper continued to talk. When he had finished, Bolton thanked him for the opportunity, as he was expected to do, and they shook hands. The handshake lingered and Bolton found Uncle Jasper staring into his eyes. After a moment, he released his hand and Bolton left the flat.
As he crossed the estate, he felt his stomach churn and ducked down an alleyway to throw up. It was all so wrong. He had caused Chris Germaine’s death, whatever Uncle Jasper had said. Now he was expected to become Uncle Jasper’s protégé, or disciple, as he’d referred to him. The thought made his knees shake.
He wondered what options he had. There were none. Nobody turned down Uncle Jasper, especially not when he had just made them his protégé and admitted to having killed someone on their behalf. Bolton heaved again.
He didn’t know how things had become so fucked up but he knew it was too late to change anything. If he didn’t go along with Uncle Jasper’s decision, he would be dead. He was certain of that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Charley was apprehensive as she let herself in to her mother’s flat. She had rung beforehand and Torey had answered. Toni was out at bingo and wasn’t expected back until later, but Asher was coming around to collect some of the things he had left behind after he had moved out. Charley had rushed around, hoping to speak with him.
His announcement had been sudden, but Toni had been the most affected by his decision. She had questioned him for hours, trying to find out why he was leaving her and insisting that he was needed at home. Asher had remained defiant. Toni had given up after seeing his belongings packed and had taken to her bedroom, where she had stayed until Charley had lured her out after Torey had called, worried that their mother had lost her mind and was going to kill herself.
When Charley had gone into Toni’s room, she had found her in a state. She had tried everything she could think of to get her out of bed. She had given up and called a doctor. Toni had been prescribed medication, but she refused to take it. When everyone had grown tired of her hysterics, Toni had resumed her normal manner and insisted that Asher had made the right decision, believing that he had found himself a girlfriend.
Charley had let her believe this, not wanting her to retreat to her bedroom again. She knew that Asher finding a girlfriend was unlikely. She had wanted to question her brother, and had even gone back to the third floor flat. She had rang the doorbell, but when a man’s voice came across the intercom, she panicked and fled.
It had been weeks since she had discovered Asher’s secret and it played on her mind. She needed to know what was going on, but she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of confronting Asher. She didn’t want an argument, but the chances were high she would get one. He wasn’t likely to be forthcoming when she questioned him.
Walking around the flat, Charley felt a strange emotion overcome her. It had been a few months since she had moved out and, with Asher having left as well, the flat seemed empty and lifeless. She didn’t doubt that things were quieter, but she thought that it seemed less like a family home now and more like a half-way house, a place for Torey and Huw to stay until they were old enough to escape.
She found Torey in her bedroom, applying make-up in front of the mirror. She caught sight of her in the reflection and rolled her eyes.
“I thought the whole point of moving out was that you weren’t here all the time,” Torey said, pouting. “When I get out of this dump, I ain’t ever coming back here.”
Charley sat on the edge of one of the beds, and watched her sister. Torey bristled and turned to face her, looking angry.
“This isn’t your room anymore,” she said. “You can’t just barge in here and sit down on my bed.”
Charley didn’t move. Torey groaned but returned to the mirror, rummaging through her make-up box for lipstick.
“You going out somewhere tonight?” Charley asked.
“Obviously. Devon’s having a party and he said that I should come round. He even said I could stay the night if I wanted to.”
She sounded smug and Charley remembered the days when she had been like that.
“Be careful,” she said.
Torey snorted.
“You mean like you were? Don’t worry, I’ve got no intention of getting knocked up. You look like you about ready to drop that kid, and you’re feet are all swollen and gross.”
“I’m eight months gone. Did you expect me to look like a supermodel? All I’m saying is that you should take care. You might think he likes you, but this guy could just be stringing you along.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Torey snapped, looking put out. She began applying dark red lipstick, and Charley grimaced. “I know you think you’ve got a perfect relationship, but the things I’ve heard ain’t all that great.”
“Don’t start getting smart with me,” Charley said. “I don’t know who started those rumours, but when I find out, I’ll knock them out.”
Torey smirked but said nothing. She knew she had hit a nerve and Charley tried to calm her breathing.
Since she had heard the rumours about Bolton’s infidelity, she had been plagued by uncertainty about their relationship. For a while her mind had been distracted by Asher and his dubious behaviour. Then the insecurities resurfaced and she began to wonder if Bolton had been unfaithful. She tried hard to convince herself that he wouldn’t do something
like that to her, but when she was alone in the evenings she couldn’t help but question whether he was with another woman.
In the past few weeks, Bolton had become even more distant from her. He was working longer hours and Charley knew that he was spending less time with Dante. She had answered a call from him, and Dante had been as surprised as she was that Bolton was off at work. She wanted to question her boyfriend, but Charley felt bad whenever she doubted him.
The stress had begun to show on his face and she doubted that an affair could do that to him. He had lost some weight and there were constant dark marks under his eyes that made her wonder if he was getting any sleep at all. She sensed that he had bad dreams. He would wake up sweating in the night and murmured in his sleep. She worried about him, but she didn’t have a clue what she could do about any of it.
The front door opened and they both looked up at the doorway. The door slammed shut and Asher walked past. He paused and nodded at them both.
“Where’s mum?” he asked.
“Gone down the bingo,” Torey replied. “She dragged Huw off with her, poor sod.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“Not for a while. You’d better be gone by then, unless you want another lecture. I’m pretty sure she’ll keep you locked up here until you tell her which girl you’re shacked up with. She’s been doing her nut trying to find out.”
Asher grimaced and Charley knew that she needed to have it out with him. When he went down the corridor to his own room, Charley rose to follow him.
“Guess you’re going to start hassling him now,” Torey said, watching her in the mirror. “Maybe if you were getting some from Bolton, you wouldn’t be round here so much.”
Charley glared at her but left the room. Torey’s face fell when she realised that her sister wasn’t rising to the bait, and refocused her attention on her make-up.
Outside Asher’s bedroom, Charley paused. She knew this was the right time to speak to him about what she’d seen, but she wanted to leave the flat and not look back.
Asher looked up when she walked in and smiled.
“You all right?” he asked, perched on the edge of his bed, a cardboard box at his feet. “Not come to lecture me, have you?”
“I just wanted to talk to you,” Charley said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. She sat on Huw’s bed, facing him.
He eyed her closely, the concern etched onto his face. His gaze lingered on her stomach and Charley placed a hand on her bump.
“Is everything okay with you and Bolton?” he asked.
“Yeah, don’t pay any attention to those rumours,” Charley said, “I actually wanted to talk about you.”
“You want to know why I moved out.”
“No, I know why. Anyone in their right mind would want to get out of this flat, I’m just surprised you didn’t do it sooner.”
“It’s not so bad,” he laughed. “But I’m not getting any younger.”
“Have you moved in with a girlfriend then?”
Charley watched uncertainty flicker across Asher’s face. She was reminded that this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.
“Why do you think that?” he asked.
“It’s what mum thinks. I guess everyone thinks it.”
“And you?” he asked, uncomfortable. “Look, I just needed a break from mum.”
“So you’re staying with a friend?”
“I don’t see why everyone’s so interested in my life all of a sudden.”
“It’s because you’re supposed to be the good one,” Charley said. “I mean, there’s me getting pregnant. Huw throwing tantrums all the time. Torey being Torey. Then there’s you, still living at home, a police man, living life like a monk.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess you have a point,” he grinned. “I think comparing me to a monk might be taking it a little far, though.”
“I’ve never seen you with a girlfriend,” Charley said, bracing herself. “And you’ve never brought anyone back here.”
“Back here? Are you kidding me? Would you bring someone back here?”
“No, but I reckon you’d get away with it. Your mum’s favourite, after all.”
“Not anymore.”
“Don’t be stupid, I bet you could rob a bank and she’d still worship you.”
“I’m not as perfect as you make me out to be,” Asher said darkly.
“How do you mean?”
“You make me out like I’m some kind of saint,” he said, not looking at her. “I’m not.”
“So you’re living in sin at the moment are you?”
“No, I just meant –”
“You are living on Porter Terrace, though?” she interrupted. “Near the tube station, in a flat on the third floor?”
Asher looked shocked and there was no mistaking his discomfort now. Charley maintained eye contact, but he looked down at the box by his feet.
“How did you know that?” he asked. Charley remained silent, and Asher sighed. “But yeah, I am living there.”
“Who’s flat is it?”
“A friend from work,” Asher said. “His wife just left him, and he wanted some company.”
“What kind of company?”
Charley’s voice was level, but inside she was shaking. Asher looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were wide.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Charley said.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” he said, shaking his head. “But –”
“I ain’t heard anything,” Charley interrupted. “I saw you. A few weeks ago.”
“What’s with all the questions then?”
“He’s a good looking guy,” Charley said, pressing on.
“I guess,” Asher said, wiping his forehead. “I don’t really know.”
“Sure you do.”
“What’s up with you?” Asher asked, sounding frustrated.
Charley took a deep breath. It was the moment for the truth.
“I saw you with him. I was going to call you over, but then you stuck your tongue halfway down his throat.”
Her words hung in the air between them. Charley watched his reaction. Asher looked to be on the verge of a breakdown. He shook his head.
“You’re mental,” he stammered.
“You’re denying it?”
“Yeah, of course I am,” he said. He was trying to sound offended, but Charley could see through it.
“I saw you,” she insisted.
“You saw wrong.”
“You think?” she asked. Asher glared back at her. Charley knew that she had gone too far not to continue. “Look, I know what I saw. Leigh-Ann was there, she saw it too. Unless you’re trying to tell me we both suffered from some kind of shared hallucination?”
Asher looked at her, and Charley saw his shoulders sag. He rubbed the top of his head and groaned.
“For fuck’s sake,” he said, “Have you told anyone else?”
“No.”
“Has Leigh-Ann?”
“No, I told her to keep quiet.”
“That’s something,” he said, cradling his head in his hands. He looked up. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I only told her not to say anything because I wanted to see what you had to say for yourself,” Charley said, feeling her frustration with him mounting. She waited, but he remained silent. “So, come on, say something.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Well fucking think of something. You can’t tongue wrestle some guy and not have anything to say,” she said, her voice rising. Asher shot a glance to the door. Charley leaned forward, bringing his attention back to her. “I’ve done you a favour, keeping quiet. You owe me some bloody answers.”
“This ain’t easy, you know,” Asher said, getting up and pacing the floor between the beds. “I didn’t think anyone would find out.”
“Find out what? You kissed a bloke?” Charley said. Asher looked at h
er, his eyes wide. Realisation dawned on her. “Oh no, you’re shagging him aren’t you? I don’t believe you.”
Asher sat back down on his bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet.
“How many times?” Charley demanded.
“What?”
“How many times have you fucked him?” she repeated. She glared at him but Asher looked down at his feet, giving her the answer. “I’ll take that as more than once, then. What the fuck are you playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything.”
“Give me a break, Ash. If you’re plan was to give mum a heart attack, don’t worry, I think this will work.”
“I don’t want her to know,” he said, his shoulders beginning to shake. “Please.”
“I don’t get it. You know what people are going to think, don’t you?” she sighed. She got to her feet and paced the floor where he had paced moments before. “Jeez, you’re lucky it weren’t anyone else that saw you.”
“I don’t feel lucky,” Asher murmured.
“This ain’t fucking funny,” Charley shouted, turning on him. “If this gets out, people are going to think you’re gay. Hell, I’m your sister and even I’m having my doubts.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
Asher’s voice was breaking and Charley stopped her pacing. He looked worn out and she felt a moment’s pity for him.
“First thing, you got to move back in here. Living with that guy is just going to start people talking,” she said. “Don’t worry, we can keep this between us.”
“I can’t move out,” Asher said, close to tears.
“Is he forcing you or something? Damn, did he bloody rape you?” Charley asked, clenching her fists. “I’ve got a mind to go round there right now and –”
“No, he’d never do that,” Asher shook his head. “I can’t leave because I’m in love with him.”
“What are you talking about?” Charley asked.
“I love him.”
Asher was quiet but Charley heard him clearly. She looked at him and knew it was the truth. Her breath caught in her chest.
“Oh God, you can’t be serious,” she said, running a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “Fucking hell, Ash. Are you trying to tell me you’re a faggot?”
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