“How do I know you ain’t going to grass me up once you’ve got the money?” he asked.
Bolton felt himself relax slightly. Dante was obviously realising he was in over his head.
“Because I’m your best mate and I wouldn’t do that,” Bolton replied.
Dante considered him for a long moment but didn’t lower the knife. Bolton’s palms were sweaty. He was uncomfortably aware that Dante was high and that he could change his mind in a split-second and lunge at him with the blade.
With more bravado than he felt, Bolton spoke.
“If you’re going to stab me, get on with it.”
His voice seemed to bring the futility of the situation to Dante.
Bolton, one eye on the blade, bent down and picked up the box filled with money. Dante lowered the blade and sat down heavily on the bed, not making eye contact with him.
Bolton held his breath all the way out of the house, aware that Dante could still change his mind, but he didn’t. Outside, he drew in the cool air gratefully.
The box under his arms, he set off down the street to decide what he would tell Uncle Jasper. There would be questions and if Bolton didn’t come up with some decent answers, he and Dante would both be dead.
* * *
“Come on, you going to tell me?” Charley asked, her face inches from her sister’s. Torey winced, but Charley pressed on, voice loud in the small room. “What’s your excuse? You holding onto it for a mate? Or you shoplifting from pharmacies now? Gone off robbing sweets and magazines, then?”
“Fuck off, you don’t know anything,” Torey shouted, then looked at the door anxiously, worried about raising her voice. “And keep your bloody voice down, mum might hear.”
“So it’s yours then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“If it’s not, what’s the problem with mum finding out?” Charley asked. Torey looked worried, but Charley continued. “You can just tell her which mate you’re looking after it for, then it’ll be fine.”
“You know mum won’t believe that,” Torey snapped.
“Of course she won’t,” Charley said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Even I don’t believe you.”
Torey turned away and sat heavily down on her bed. Charley watched her for a moment.
“You can talk to me, you know. I’ve been there, in case you’d forgotten,” Charley said, quieter this time. Torey kept her eyes firmly averted from her, staring at the floor intently. Charley sighed, “Come on, I ain’t stupid, I know you’re sleeping with that Devon.”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” Torey said glumly.
Charley was surprised.
“I thought you –”
“I slept with him once at his party,” Torey admitted. Her voice was quiet, and she continued to stare at the floor. “He never spoke to me again.”
“That fucking bastard,” Charley spat, “I’ll skin him alive.”
“No, just leave it,” Torey said hopelessly. “I’m embarrassed enough without you going round shouting the odds.”
Charley sighed. She sat down on her own bed, and leant forward, taking Torey’s hand in hers.
“He has to know, if it does come back positive,” she said. Torey looked up at her, but quickly averted her gaze again. Charley swallowed hard, “Is he the only lad you’ve been with?”
Torey was silent for a beat.
“Yeah, he’s the only one.”
“Well, that’s something I guess,” Charley said, relieved.
They sat for a moment in silence, Charley still clasping her sister’s hand.
“I’ve been so fucking stupid,” Torey said. Charley noticed the shame in her voice, and squeezed her hand. “I thought he really liked me, then as soon as he’d been with me he pissed off. He didn’t even wait for me to pull my knickers up before he left the room.”
“Men are bastards, don’t forget that,” Charley said, automatically thinking of her own relationship. “Look at Bolton, he’s living proof of that. Pretending he’s giving me space, when he’s really just out shagging some other bird.”
Torey looked into her face.
“At least you were going out with him, when you got knocked up.”
Charley grimaced.
“Trust me, that ain’t making me feel any better about it all right now.”
“What am I going to do if it comes back positive?” Torey asked, worry in her voice now. “Mum will kill me.”
Charley considered her a moment, then spoke in a quiet, reassuring voice.
“She won’t be happy, but there ain’t much she can do now. What’s done is done.”
“I guess.”
“But before we start thinking about that, we’ve got to find out what the score is,” Charley said, reaching around her and pulling the pharmacy bag out of the handbag. “You’ve got to do the test.”
She pressed the thin box into Torey’s hands.
“I’m scared,” Torey whispered.
“You’ll feel better when you know,” Charley said. Torey looked at her, and Charley nodded. “One way or the other, at least you’ll know.”
Charley watched as Torey got up and left the room. She heard the bathroom door creak. Alone in the room, she wondered how Toni would react if Torey’s test came back positive. Hit the roof, she thought. Then she’d drag them all to church and would probably try and keep them locked up there until they were in their thirties.
Torey came back into the room and Charley smiled at her, hoping to give her some reassurance. Torey’s hands were shaking as she placed the test on the bedside cabinet.
“Being pregnant ain’t so bad, you know,” Charley said, trying to be positive, but Torey remained silent. “It’s only for nine months.”
Torey looked at her, not convinced.
“Yeah, then there’s eighteen years of raising the kid.”
“Yeah,” Charley admitted. She could think of nothing else to say.
They sat in silence, both avoiding looking at the pregnancy test that lay between them. Charley kept glancing at her watch. Torey kept still, eyes closed, face devoid of emotion.
“It’s time,” Charley said, after three minutes.
Torey opened her eyes. She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Picking up the test, she looked at Charley.
“Fingers crossed,” she said, before looking down.
“What does it say?” Charley asked. Torey stared down at it, then flicked through the instructions. Her face remained unreadable, as she continued to stare at the test. Charley leant forwards, and touched her arm, “Tor?”
“I’m not pregnant,” Torey said, her voice so quiet that Charley had to strain to hear her. She looked up, and Charley sighed with relief as Torey smiled. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Congratulations,” she said, smiling properly now.
The two sisters hugged, and Torey quickly returned to her usual self, hiding the test in her bag, to be disposed of tomorrow on the way to school.
As Charley got ready for bed, Torey turned to face her.
“Thanks,” she said, and Charley smiled at her, bemused. This was the closest they had ever been as sisters, and Charley was pleased.
“Don’t mention it.”
* * *
Bolton sat in his flat and stared at the cardboard box. He had sealed it with masking tape he had found in the kitchen, left over from when he and Charley had first moved in. The flat seemed deserted now that he was the only one who lived here.
He missed the home comforts that Charley had provided for him. The smell of cooking, a made bed when he was tired and fresh towels in the bathroom. These days, Bolton lived off takeaway meals and his mum came round every few days to tidy up and do his washing.
His mind went over his feelings for Charley. He still loved her, but nothing he could do would win her back, he knew that deep down. He had broken her trust and her heart. No, he had obliterated them, shattered them into thousands of pieces and she would never forgive him.
<
br /> It was time for him to move on.
He looked down at the box and thought about Dante. His oldest mate. They had been best mates for years and now it seemed they were nothing but colleagues, bonded only by the fact they were expected to work together for Uncle Jasper.
Try as he might, Bolton could not think of an excuse that Uncle Jasper would accept. He would want to know how Bolton had come to obtain the money and nothing Bolton could say would change that. Uncle Jasper would suspect either him or Dante of stealing it. If he blamed Dante, Bolton would be responsible for Dante’s death. He was under no allusions that Uncle Jasper would kill the one responsible for taking the money.
And if Uncle Jasper thought that he was responsible, Bolton knew he was a dead man. He might be punished just for not realising that Dante had stolen the money, if he told Uncle Jasper the whole truth.
No, he could not risk his life just to return a couple of thousand quid. Dante had been right about one thing. Uncle Jasper had plenty more money, he was not desperately in need of this cash. It was pennies to him, Bolton told himself.
Perhaps he should hold onto it for a while, he decided. He would keep it safe until a solution materialised that would not involve he or Dante being killed.
He picked up the box and carried it through to his bedroom. He opened the closet and slid it inside, then covered it with coats and other bulky clothes. He was reminded of how Dante had tried to hide the box and how easily it had been discovered.
There would be no parties here, Bolton resolved. He couldn’t risk the money being discovered. He would have to think of something to tell Dante, as to why Uncle Jasper had not received his money back, but he would jump that hurdle when he came to it.
As far as he was concerned, Dante should be grateful he hadn’t gone straight to Uncle Jasper and told him everything.
Walking back into the lounge, Bolton flicked on the television. Though he tried to take his mind off the money, it was all he could think about. And for good reason, he reminded himself. If anyone discovered it, his life would not be worth living, Uncle Jasper would see to that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Toni watched her eldest daughter out of the corner of her eye.
“You’ve washed that plate three times now,” Charley said in a bored voice. “I’ve already told you I’m only going round Leigh-Ann’s this morning, so you can stop your worrying.”
Toni had been caught out and she knew it. She placed the plate on the rack to dry and picked up a glass, scrubbing it with the cloth.
“I’m sorry things had to turn out this way,” she said, trying to sound as apologetic as she could. “I think it’s for the best.”
“You ain’t sorry, mum, so don’t waste your breath.”
Toni let the glass fall back into the sink, splashing water over her apron, as she spun around to look at her daughter. Charley was sat at the table, one hand massaging her bump, and the other wrapped around a mug of tea.
“Don’t you take that tone with me girl,” Toni said, pointing a gloved hand at her, her patience finally running out. “You’re not too old for me to put you over my knee.”
Charley snorted.
“You’re having a laugh, aren’t you? Have you seen the size of me? I’m almost as big as you these days.”
Toni ignored the insult and moved forward. Charley straightened up, face weary but eyes alert now. Toni leant heavily on the table, soapy water pooling where her gloved hands rested.
She leant forward, across the table, standing over her daughter.
“If I hear you’ve so much as thought about your father, your life won’t be worth living. You’ll be out of this flat and out of this family, you hear me?”
Her voice was low and threatening, and Charley swallowed hard. She knew her mother had two types of threat. The ones she shouted in the midst of an argument. These threats were loud and, for the most part, meaningless.
These threats, like the one she had just spoken, were cold and calculated, and Charley knew that her mother meant every word she said.
“I said, do you hear me?” Toni was glaring at her.
Charley nodded.
They stared at each other for a moment. Then Toni nodded, almost imperceptibly, and returned to the sink and her dishes, humming along to a song stuck in her head.
Charley waited a few minutes, draining her mug, before she made her excuses. She got dressed quickly and stuck her head around the kitchen doorway a few minutes later.
“I’m off to Leigh-Ann’s now,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her.
Toni looked round at her, sizing her up.
“Have fun,” she said, her voice normal again. Charley sighed with relief, when Toni called over her shoulder, “Just don’t forget what I said.”
Charley didn’t answer and hurried out of the flat.
As she set off down the stairs, she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. She checked her phone but there were no new messages from her father. She was suddenly uncertain if she was doing the right thing.
She wanted to see her father, but Toni’s voice had told her in no uncertain terms that if she met him, she would soon know about it. Glancing around nervously, Charley hoped that Leigh-Ann stuck to their cover story and that Toni would not find out about her plans to meet Nathaniel this morning.
* * *
“That’s the queer.”
Those were the words that Asher had heard whispered between two young girls as he returned home to Carl’s flat after his morning run. His heart had almost stopped such was the shock with which the words had hit him.
He was in no doubt that they had been talking about him; he recognised the girls, they were sisters, living the floor beneath his mother in the block of flats on the Goldsworth. He had always known that his sexuality would soon become gossip but it still came as a surprise.
“Is everything okay?” Carl asked, concerned, when he let himself into the flat, the frown still playing on his lips.
“Yeah,” Asher murmured, going into the bathroom and turning on the shower before Carl could ask any more questions.
He stood and let the hot water beat down on his head, his skin prickling with the heat, but he made no move to turn down the temperature. Try as he might to forget the words, they echoed like a mantra through his every thought.
When Carl banged on the bathroom door, Asher switched off the shower. He realised he had spent far longer than he had thought standing under the water.
He knew what he had to do. He could handle the gossip, the hateful glances, all of it, but he needed his family on his side. He made his decision; he had to go and see his mother.
* * *
Dante walked determinedly up the stairs and merely nodded at bodyguard Barry as he went into Uncle Jasper’s office.
Uncle Jasper did not look up and Dante felt a stab of irritation. He knew that if Bolton had walked in, there would have been a very different reaction and it grated on him, reaffirming that what he was about to do was the right thing.
He cleared his throat and Uncle Jasper looked up, plastering a smile on his face, and Dante gritted his teeth.
“What can I do for you this morning, Dante?” he asked, opening his arms in a gesture of welcome, though it was evident he wanted him gone as quickly as possible. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be overseeing some deals right now?”
“I left someone else in charge for a bit,” Dante said, and the smile slipped from Uncle Jasper’s face. Dante hurried on, stammering with nerves, “I needed to talk to you, and I thought this was more important.”
“What could be more important than making sure my deals go smoothly?”
There was no mistaking the anger in Uncle Jasper’s voice now.
Dante shuddered slightly, despite himself. He gritted his teeth and spoke.
“I think I know where your missing money is.”
* * *
At the café, Charley sighed. She had explained the si
tuation at home to Nathaniel and he looked hurt.
“So your mum wants you to stop seeing me?” he said, his voice low.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, but I think I should listen to her,” she replied. Seeing the look of surprise on his face, she quickly said, “Not because I want to, but things have been difficult at home lately and if mum finds out, it’ll all just get worse.”
Nathaniel nodded, eyes on the table.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble for you, but she can’t keep calling all the shots.”
“She’s on some moral mission right now,” Charley explained. “And I don’t think she’d stand for any of this. She really hates you for some reason.”
“I’ve not always been such a good guy,” Nathaniel said softly. “But Toni’s no saint, either, not by a long shot.”
Charley was intrigued, but knew she should leave. She didn’t want to hear him slagging off her mother; that would be the icing on the cake if Toni ever found out.
“I’m sorry, it’s just better this way,” she said, putting some money on the table and getting her bag, “I’ll call you soon, when all of this has died down a bit.”
She rose to her feet, but Nathaniel put out a hand and clasped the sleeve of her jacket.
“Sit down, Charley,” he said, looking her in the eyes, his face serious. “It’s time I told you the truth about your mother and why she hates me so much.”
* * *
Dante sat in silence and watched with mounting fear the changing expressions on Uncle Jasper’s face. He wasn’t happy, that much was clear. He wondered briefly if he had made a mistake, and each second of tense silence seemed to echo his thoughts.
Then Uncle Jasper looked up and smiled. Dante did not relax. He knew that his boss could kill someone with a smile on his face, so it didn’t mean he was necessarily happy.
“You’ve done the right thing in telling me this,” Uncle Jasper said, leaning forward in his seat and crossing his arms. “I can’t say I’m pleased with your behaviour and we’ll have to decide on your punishment, but at least you’ve confessed and I have the chance to retrieve my money.”
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