The Goldsworth Series Box Set

by Davie J Toothill

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Deanna said, her voice malicious. “When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was all for getting you ripped out and flushed down the nearest fucking toilet. I only kept you because he told me to.”

  Brandy wasn’t surprised by her mother’s words, but it hurt her all the same.

  “Don’t say such things,” Aunt Bo chastised her, disgusted. “It’s vile.”

  “If I’d known he was going to stick with his wife, I wouldn’t have listened to him,” Deanna went on, glaring at Brandy. “I’d have ripped you out with my own bare hands if I’d known then. God, I wish I’d never had you. Biggest mistake my life, and I’ve made a fucking lot.”

  Brandy turned and left the kitchen, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

  * * *

  Aurora left the courtroom with everyone else when Judge Harksaw adjourned the trial for the day, and she saw Clint sitting on a row of chairs in the corridor a short way down from the doors.

  She could see that Clint looked relieved to have it over with, and she was pleased for him, but she couldn’t quite forget him, his soft voice recounting step-by-step how her sister had been killed. She had heard the others testify, but it was different hearing Clint saying the words.

  Clint had told the truth, she knew that, but she could not bring herself to feel pleased for him. All she could think of was how many times he’d had to stop Troy from stabbing Shaniqua, and yet he had done nothing. He might feel guilty for it, she knew he did, but that didn’t mean he should be forgiven. He deserved to feel guilty, she thought now, as she approached him.

  “Well done,” Marlena said from her side. Clint stood up, looking shaken but a little pleased with himself. “You did well,” Marlena said. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Clint, hugging him. Aurora was shocked, and she saw from Clint’s face that he felt the same.

  “You made us proud,” Marlena said softly, and Aurora felt disconcerted. She had been sure that her mum would feel the same as her, that Clint should have done something to stop Troy from killing Shaniqua, but her mother seemed to have forgiven him for everything. She broke away from the hug and smiled at Clint, her eyes watering. “You did the right thing,” she said softly, “You made that jury understand.”

  “I tried,” Clint said quietly, a little embarrassed by Marlena’s gesture.

  He looked at Aurora, and she couldn’t bring herself to embrace him. She forced a smile, but she wasn’t sure if she had fooled Clint.

  “Let’s go home,” Marlena said. All her past animosity towards Clint seemed to have been forgotten now, and Aurora felt frustrated. Now that her mum seemed to have forgiven him, Aurora found herself unable to, her old misgivings resurfacing. How could she have betrayed her sister by forgiving Clint, Aurora wondered, how could she have had a child with someone who had seen her die, been there, close enough to save her, and yet done nothing?

  Outside the building, the sun was shining. Marlena slid an arm into Clint’s, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and Aurora walked a little apart from them. Clint turned, a questioning look on his face, but Aurora didn’t say anything, or make any attempt to walk closer to him.

  She felt her throat constrict, worried now by everything she had done. Perhaps she had made a mistake in forgiving Clint for what he had done, maybe when she had found out she should have kept her distance, never talking to him again and moving on with her life. It was too late, she couldn’t do that now.

  As they walked down the road, Aurora realised she wished it wasn’t too late. She wished she still had a chance to slap and scratch and hurt Clint. She knew that she hadn’t forgiven him, not really. She had let her emotions cloud her judgement, and now she was beginning to regret it. Clint glanced back over his shoulder at her again, concerned, but Aurora averted her gaze.

  It broke her heart, but she realised then that she could never forgive him. She couldn’t be in love with him, she couldn’t be around him. She could only hate him.

  * * *

  Brandy lay on her bed, her mind racing with the thought that Aurora and Shaniqua were her half-sisters. She had always wanted a family, especially a sister, someone who could look out for her, protect her from her mother. It turned out she’d had two sisters all along, and look what had happened. One of them hated her, and the other one was dead because of her.

  She had been a terrible sister, Brandy thought. She was an unwanted daughter, a terrible sister and possibly the worst mother in the world, second only to her own mother, who surely took the prize.

  Why had she had to find out? She had been content not knowing the truth, and now she did, and guilt and regret ate away at her, gnawing through every memory and thought she’d ever had, full of what-if’s and buts and maybes.

  The worst of it all was that she could understand where her mother was coming from, even though the words she had said hurt her deeply. Didn’t she hate her own son? She had wished, all through her pregnancy, that she had aborted Frazer when she’d had the chance, and now he was alive and craving attention, she neglected him. She hadn’t even picked him up yet and she had no intention of doing so. All she thought of when she thought of him was Troy and her son disgusted her because of it.

  She wondered if that was why Deanna hated her so much. Did she remind her mum of the man who hadn’t left his wife to be with her? She was sure that was why her mum drank so much, got off her face on drugs so frequently, but she couldn’t really judge her for it, because Brandy knew she was treading the same dark path as her mother had done with her.

  It was almost enough, the thought of turning out like her mother, to make her go into the lounge, pick up her son, and love him, cherish him, protect him.

  She stayed on her bed though, unable to do it. She couldn’t bring herself to love her son. She hated her mum, but she was starting to realise that perhaps she hated her son too, because he made her feel like she was becoming Deanna.

  In a few years, perhaps he would confront her about his father, the hatred for her on his face, whilst she drank vodka, her veins full of alcohol and crack, not caring what he thought of her, only filled with spite that he even existed.

  She wondered what her father would say if he was still alive, but then she tried not to think about it. He would surely hate her for causing Shaniqua’s death. Yes, she was certain of it. He hadn’t wanted a relationship with her, only his precious Shaniqua and Aurora. Brandy couldn’t blame him.

  Rolling over on the bed, Brandy heard Frazer start crying in the lounge.

  “Shut that goddamn kid up before I really lose my shit,” Deanna screamed from the kitchen, and she heard Aunt Bo respond and her heavy footsteps into the lounge to soothe the baby.

  Brandy closed her eyes, wishing she didn’t know the truth, wishing she had a different mother and a different father, and wishing she’d never even had a son. It would be so much easier, she knew, and all she wanted was an easy life, free of the guilt and the regret. It was too late, she knew, but she could at least wish for it.

  * * *

  Clint walked into Marlena’s flat and he knew he should have felt happy. He was pleased that he had been to court and told the truth, and he wanted to celebrate, to be pleased, for just a moment, that it was all over for him. Something stopped him, and he knew that Aurora’s mood had changed. He couldn’t be sure of the reason behind her sudden sullenness, but he suspected it was because of him.

  He had always known that it would be hard for her to hear him speak about her sister’s death, that it would upset her when he recounted her last moments, but she had been the one who had insisted on coming to court this afternoon to hear his testimony, and he hoped she didn’t regret it, that she was pleased he had done the right thing, done his best to get justice for her sister.

  Femi greeted them at the doorway to the lounge, and pulled Clint into a warm embrace. She kissed him on both cheeks, beaming at him, but Clint slipped away from her and followed Aurora down the hallway to the bedroom, sensing she wanted t
o be alone, but unwilling to let any bad feelings fester. Marlena was recounting the afternoon in court to Femi in the lounge, so Clint closed the bedroom door as he went in.

  Aurora sat down on the bed, not looking at him, and kicked off her shoes.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked her, going to the bed and sitting beside her.

  “I’m fine,” Aurora said, but Clint knew she was lying.

  “I know you’re upset,” Clint said carefully. “Anyone would be, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. Sorry for everything, and if I could go back in time and change things, I would. You know I would. I’m sorry.”

  Aurora was silent for a long minute and Clint could feel his heart pumping, counting each second as the silence dragged on.

  “We can’t go back and change things,” Aurora said eventually, her voice soft, full of regret. Clint didn’t like hearing her sound like this. Aurora looked at him, and he saw her eyes were damp with tears. “I’d like to be alone right now.”

  “I love you,” Clint said, feeling anxious as he looked into her eyes.

  Aurora looked away and Clint gave her a moment, then stood up. He went to the door and looked back at her, both of them painfully aware of the silence in the room, the fact that Aurora had not said anything in response.

  Clint opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he had no words. He left the room, the floor creaking beneath his feet, and closed the door behind him.

  In the corridor he wiped his eyes, realising there were tears on his cheeks. He felt a lingering sense of unease, pressing in on him from all sides, a growing awareness that something had changed between them.

  Though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he knew what it was. Aurora hadn’t been able to say she loved him. He hoped he was wrong, but a part of him knew that Aurora’s feelings had changed this afternoon. Perhaps it had always been the case and she had only just realised it today.

  Whatever the reason, the facts remained, Clint thought sadly, wiping at his eyes as more tears came. Aurora did not love him, and the realisation broke his heart.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Aurora was dressed for court, and she narrowed her eyes when Clint walked into the kitchen in a vest and boxer shorts.

  “You’re not coming with us?” Marlena asked.

  “I want to check on Kojo, he’s been acting up,” Clint replied, scratching his head and stretching. “I’m worried about him.”

  “Well, that’s understandable,” Marlena offered.

  “I hope it goes well,” Clint said, shooting a glance at Aurora.

  She ignored him, turning away so that she did not have to see the hurt pass across his face. She was frustrated that he was not coming with them. Did he not want to be there on the final day of Troy’s trial? Did he have no loyalty? Part of her was grateful he was not coming with them, and she felt like a hypocrite for being so angered by both thoughts.

  Perhaps it was best he wasn’t coming, she decided. She felt so frustrated when she was around him now, so negative, that she did not want that to cloud this day for her. Today would be good, she thought. After today, it would be down to the jury to decide Troy’s fate and she could not imagine them finding him anything other than guilty. They had heard the truth, they had heard from so many witnesses, it was a certainty that he would be sent down for this.

  “I can come if you want me to?” Clint asked, coming towards her. He did not touch her, slide his arms around her waist like he used to. Perhaps her attitude had put him off, she thought. She realised she didn’t want him to touch her anyway.

  “No, don’t worry,” Aurora said, a little too quickly. She saw Clint wince at her response, but he nodded, trying to look supportive. Her mum gave her a reproachful look, but Aurora ignored her. “You should go see Kojo,” Aurora said, trying to soften the blow.

  “Sure,” Clint nodded. He left the kitchen, and Aurora felt her mother’s eyes on her back, but she did not turn around or say anything else.

  She looked out of the window at the hazy sunshine glinting off the windows and rooftops of London. She was hopeful for today, but Clint had taken some of the joy out of her morning. She could not shake off the negativity he had brought with him into the kitchen, and now her mind began to swirl into thoughts of how he had hurt her, and she wondered once more what Shaniqua would have made of all this.

  * * *

  Dante loitered by the entrance to the canteen, one eye on the clock on the wall and the other scanning the faces of his fellow inmates as they drifted in and out. It was breakfast time and the corridor was starting to get busy, just as he had known it would. He did not feel hungry, his stomach twisting with nerves and excitement.

  He straightened up when he caught sight of Wimbly. The officer was red faced as he approached, his face sinking when he saw who waited for him, as if he had been hoping that Dante would not be here as they had planned. As if he would miss this opportunity, Dante thought, smiling as he nodded towards him.

  Wimbly turned down a quieter corridor and let himself into the laundry room. Dante followed him, keeping a good distance behind him, and went in after him, a quick glance over his shoulder as he did to make sure he had not been spotted.

  “You got my present?” Dante asked, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Wimbly sighed, unable to meet his eyes, but he nodded.

  “Good boy,” Dante said, smiling. “Where are they?”

  “Not on me,” Wimbly mumbled, looking panicked at the thought. Dante’s smile faltered. Wimbly sighed. “It’s not as easy as you think it is, bringing it in here.”

  “Fine,” Dante snapped. “Where is it then?”

  “I’ll bring it to your cell,” Wimbly replied. “It’s safer that way.”

  “When?” Dante asked. He did not want Troy to get a whiff of what he had been up to, and the last thing he needed was for Troy to arrive back early from court and see Wimbly leaving the cell. “You’re starting to test my patience, you know that?”

  Wimbly blushed.

  “After the breakfast rush,” he said. “I’ll bring it then. I’m supposed to be in the canteen now, keeping an eye on things.”

  Dante nodded, stepping aside, away from the door so that Wimbly could leave. The officer took a step forward gingerly.

  “Don’t let me down,” Dante warned him, as Wimbly reached for the door handle.

  He saw his back stiffen as he nodded and left. Dante gritted his teeth. He hoped that he was not being fucked around. He did not think that Wimbly would dare, but until he had the drugs safely stashed away in his cell, he would not be able to relax.

  He unclenched his fists, realising how tense he was, and went back out into the corridor. Wimbly was already turning the corner out of sight, and Dante followed, hoping that he would not regret letting him walk away.

  * * *

  Clint knocked on the front door of his parents’ flat and waited. With one hand, he rocked the pram, wondering again if he had made a mistake bringing Angel here, but she smiled contentedly up at him, unaware of his nerves. His mother opened the door a second later and beckoned him inside. The flat was quiet except for the radio playing in the kitchen. No shouting, no horseracing on the television, which meant that his father was out. Either getting an early start at the bookies, or still not back from the night before, Clint thought. He felt himself relax a little, and angled the pram inside the flat, following his mother into the kitchen.

  “No dad?”

  “Your father is -” his mother began, then trailed off, pulling off her marigold gloves and bending down to fuss over her granddaughter. Angel gurgled in response. “He’s gone out for the day.”

  Clint did not speak. He wondered if his mother had any idea where her husband was, if she even wanted to know. He left her to coo over Angel and went down the hallway. The door to the bedroom he had once shared with Kojo was closed. He hesitated, but knocked lightly and went inside.

  Kojo was stretched in his bed, one arm stuck out
of the duvet to scroll through his phone. He jumped when the door opened, and then scowled at Clint.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  “Just dropped by to see you,” Clint replied, sitting down at the end of his own bed. He wondered for a moment if his mother still held out hope that he would return home one day. He was surprised his dad had not got rid of the bed already, disposed of any reminder that he existed. He looked over at his brother. “You been busy then?”

  “Busy enough,” Kojo said guardedly, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Yeah, you must’ve been. Too busy to come see your niece, right?”

  Kojo looked abashed for a moment, but he quickly composed himself, his face hardening. His eyes returned to his phone, not meeting Clint’s.

  “Chill out,” he said, not taking his eyes off his phone. “You know what it’s like, a man’s got priorities. Sorry that your kid ain’t top of my list.”

  Clint was shocked by his response. He had expected, had hoped, that his brother would be apologetic when confronted. He had thought his brother was just pushing his boundaries like any kid did, but this was something more. This was pure disrespect.

  “I brought her round,” Clint managed, swallowing down his anger, not wanting to alienate his brother any more. “She’s in the kitchen with mum. I bet she’d love to meet her uncle, you know.”

  “Nah, another time maybe,” Kojo muttered, not looking away from his phone.

  Clint gritted his teeth.

  “What’s your problem?” he demanded, unable to stop himself. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting like a dick since we’ve been back here.”

  Kojo looked over at him. His eyes were cold.

  “If you don’t like it, you know where the door is mate.”

  Clint jumped from the bed and snatched Kojo’s phone from his hands. Kojo leapt from beneath the duvet, squaring up to his brother. His jaw was clenched like his fists, and Clint saw no fear, no hesitation. Anger bubbled just below the surface, waiting for an excuse to erupt. Clint shook his head and dropped the phone onto the bed.