Dishonour

by Jacqui Rose

  ‘But you’re still going?’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Look at me. Turn round and look at me.’

  Laila slowly turned, clutching on to her shoes. Ray-Ray saw her stare at him blankly. ‘Look at me.’ Confusion crossed her face and Ray-Ray could feel the panic rise inside him.

  ‘What do you see?’

  ‘I … I don’t know.’

  ‘Look harder. Can’t you see?’

  Urgency filled her voice as she spoke over the music. ‘I don’t know what you want me to see.’

  Ray-Ray shouted, and tears he didn’t think could fall trickled down his face. ‘Look; just look.’

  He could tell she didn’t understand. In frustration he swung at the lamp, knocking it and everything else off the table. He grabbed his shirt, pulling it on as he walked out of the door.

  For a few seconds Laila stood without moving, trying to comprehend what had just happened. It was the second time he’d run off and she was at a loss to know what to do.

  Pulling herself together and trying not to worry about what Johno would say, Laila gathered the things off the floor. She froze. Her eyes transfixed on what lay next to the magazine. Tentatively she crouched down, picking up the CD case. Her breathing shortened, and her heart began to hammer in her chest. She stared at it. It couldn’t be. But there in the corner were the smiley face stickers with her initials on. She moved her fingers to lightly brush over them. She looked at the door, and, as the realisation hit her, she covered her mouth, a tiny cry coming out.

  Throwing the case down, Laila ran into the empty corridor. Picking up the bottom of her dress, she pushed past the room service trolley and a startled looking bellboy.

  She hurried round the corner and there, at the bottom of the corridor, she could see him. She called out but he didn’t turn as he stepped into the lift. She could see the doors closing as she neared them, and lunging forward, she hit the call button, but it was too late. They closed, leaving her standing in the corridor. She put her head on the cool metal of the closed doors and under her breath whispered, ‘It’s you. Ray-Ray, it’s you.’

  40

  ‘You look the bleeding dog’s bollocks.’ Linda grinned at Tasha as she came into the kitchen, wearing a low-cut deep blue satin dress, topped off with the Bvlgari necklace Freddie had bought her. ‘I take it your old man’s on a promise?’

  ‘I’m going to be wined and dined Linda, not taken to a farmer’s field for a quick roll in the hay.’

  ‘Are you going to get one of Freddie’s boys to drive you?’

  Tasha crinkled up her nose. Even though her and Freddie were trying to get on and trust each other again, it didn’t stretch to the people who worked for him. She wanted them as far away from her as possible. They’d also been happy to see her six foot under and that was something she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  ‘You’ve got to be joking Lind, I’d rather walk.’

  ‘Well it’s lucky for you then you’ve got your own motor parked outside ain’t it? Go and have fun babe, you deserve it.’

  Tasha found driving her convertible Bentley Continental in her Christian Louboutin shoes more difficult than she first imagined. It wasn’t helping either that she hadn’t figured out quite how to use the GPS mapping system, nor that it was getting dark and she didn’t know the part of London she was in. Half an hour ago she’d driven past Myddeltons deli on the corner of Amwell Street and Lloyd Baker Street which served the best crispy bacon focaccia in town, but now the familiar landmarks had disappeared.

  She was certain she’d already passed Battersea Bridge three times and was going back in the same direction as she started from, though she wouldn’t let herself concede it probably would’ve been easier to have got Johno or even Eddie to drive her. Shit, Eddie; she’d forgotten about him. She’d been so swept along by Freddie’s romantic gestures that she’d forgotten about Eddie wanting to meet her tonight. Never mind, she was sure Linda would be pleased to see him. How her sister had a secret fancy for Eddie was beyond Tasha, but there it was. Even though they’d all known each other for years, Linda had only let slip this piece of information the other day. She couldn’t see it herself, but then Linda had never had the best taste in men. Though who was she to talk?

  Sighing, Tasha pushed the bluetooth on the steering wheel to see if she could get through to Eddie, but it went straight to voicemail. She wouldn’t leave a message; it was pointless. She didn’t even know if it was his number any more. He changed it as often as he probably did his underwear, although she didn’t blame him. She knew there was no way Eddie could deal with going back inside again.

  The GPS told her to turn left, but instinct told her it didn’t know what the hell it was talking about. The potholed road looked more like a drive-up to a builder’s yard than a road she thought, until she saw the tealight candles along the path.

  Driving slowly, Tasha took in how beautiful it looked. The whole drive was lit up on both sides with flickering candle flames. She smiled, genuinely touched by the trouble Freddie had gone to. It didn’t even matter that she knew he would’ve recruited his men to do it rather than him do it himself, but it was the thought that mattered. For all her married life she’d only ever wanted him to think about her and her feelings, and finally he had started to do so.

  Stepping out of the car, Tasha couldn’t help giggling; she felt like she had done on the day of their wedding. The tiny path leading up to the warehouse had more candles lit along the edge of it and was strewn with rose petals. There was a part of Tasha which wished Linda was there to see it, wanting to share something so beautiful with her.

  Tasha touched her necklace, feeling the butterflies in her tummy, and walked along the path, drinking in every intoxicating moment of the starlit night.

  Inside the warehouse, Tasha was overwhelmed by how beautiful it was. She didn’t even feel foolish as the tears pricked at her eyes. In the middle of the empty warehouse space, a long table sat with hundreds of candles twinkling and flickering, creating a sense of magic.

  She walked to the table, picking up the single rose, smelling the gentle aroma of the blossoming flower. Then she heard footsteps behind her. Smiling, Tasha turned round.

  ‘You look beautiful. Thank you for coming. You look perfect Izzy, just perfect.’

  Ray-Ray was pacing. He couldn’t sit down, let alone sit still. He walked over to the window in his bedroom looking at nothing in particular, and seeing nothing but Laila’s face in his mind.

  What the hell had he just done? He was a fool playing games with her, wearing the half mask on the good side of his face to prevent her recognising him. For what? To punish her? He’d been so angry with her, so betrayed by her – or he thought he had. But when he’d seen her, all he’d really wanted to do was take her in his arms. Wanted to tell her it had been the idea of her which had kept him going through hospital. The possibility of seeing her face and hearing her voice one more time, had given him light in an otherwise dark tunnel. There were so many things he wanted to ask her. So many questions needed answering. What the hell was she doing in London? How had she ended up working for Johno? But instead of asking any, he’d been a prat. Fuck it. Grabbing his coat, Ray-Ray knew exactly what he was going to do.

  ‘What you doing here? Shouldn’t you be laying on all the mushy stuff with Mum? Oh don’t tell me, you were your usual tactful self and now dinner’s off.’

  Freddie looked at Ray-Ray as he walked into the kitchen, just as Linda walked in with Eddie. ‘It’s nice to see you’ve got so much confidence in me son, or it would be, if I knew what the fuck you were talking about.’

  ‘Oh turn it in Dad, you don’t have to be shy in front of us. We won’t tell anyone the mighty Freddie Thompson has a heart, will we?’ Ray-Ray gave a half smile at the others, as Freddie continued to look puzzled.

  Linda piped up. ‘And that necklace was something else doll, bleeding hell Freddie, have you thought about giving your sister-in-law one as well?�
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  ‘I gave her a necklace but I don’t know anything about any dinner. I said we might go out and maybe do something nice but with one thing and another, I’ve been too busy. Forgot all about it.’

  Linda glanced at Ray-Ray as she saw Freddie was being deadly serious. ‘What about the flowers?’

  ‘What fucking flowers? Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?’

  Ray-Ray and Linda shrugged their shoulders and Freddie clocked Eddie, looking sheepish. He barked at him. ‘You got something to tell me Ed? Have you been sending me missus flowers? Cos if you have, fuck me Ed, whether I owe you or not, I’m coming for you.’

  Eddie put his hands up in the air. ‘Freddie, it’s me you’re talking to.’

  ‘Leave it out Dad, Eddie’s done nothing. Are you sure you ain’t sent them?’

  Freddie, overcome with paranoia, snapped and shouted at his son. ‘What? Now you’re going to accuse me of having dementia as well as being a crap husband? I know if I’ve sent flowers to your mother or not.’

  ‘Okay, okay calm down. I’m sure there’s some simple explanation.’

  ‘Such as? Cos I can’t bleedin’ think of one.’

  Ray-Ray stared at his father, feeling a pressure point start pulsating in his head. He hoped to God there was a simple explanation; like the flower shop had got it wrong and they’d just been delivered to the wrong address, or his father had genuinely forgotten. But how likely was that? Wasn’t it more likely his mother had begun to do again what she’d been doing in Bradford? Pretending to him she wasn’t seeing anybody behind his father’s back, when they both knew she was. Shit. He didn’t want to think about it now. He couldn’t think about it now. ‘Listen Dad, I’m out of here, I’ve got things to do.’

  Ray-Ray slammed out of the kitchen, not wanting to be see his father turn from being his dad into the formidable, fearsome Freddie Thompson. The Freddie Thompson that men were terrified of. The Freddie Thompson he’d seen hundreds of times throughout his life. And the Freddie Thompson he didn’t want a part of.

  Back in the kitchen, Linda was trying to calm Freddie down. ‘Think Freddie, think. I ain’t saying you’re losing your marbles, but I don’t get it. She got done up to the nines. I told her she looked the dog’s bollocks.’

  Eddie raised his eyebrows, wondering if he could slip out without being noticed, while Linda carried on talking. ‘She was chuffed to bits you’d asked her to go on a date. I ain’t seen her look like that for a long time. She was happy.’

  ‘Happy for someone else to shag the daylights out of her.’

  It was Linda’s turn to raise her voice. ‘Stop it Freddie. It was you she said she was going to see. She wouldn’t lie to me. She never has done before.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what she wants you to think.’

  ‘No, I know she wouldn’t. The last time …’ Linda began to bite her lip, pulling her mouth back from spewing anything else out. She didn’t need to look up to know that Freddie’s blue eyes were staring at her.

  Freddie lifted her chin up and as he did so, even though he didn’t hurt her, Linda could feel the strength in his fingers alone.

  ‘The last time what Linda?’

  ‘Nothing Freddie, I didn’t mean anything by it. You know me.’

  ‘I do and that’s why I know you’re lying.’

  Eddie took a deep breath, and slowly moved Freddie’s fingers away from Linda’s chin, keeping eye contact with Freddie at all times, praying he’d see tomorrow.

  ‘Freddie, I think there’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘You know what I always enjoy in the car? A sing-along.’ Arnie quickly glanced back over his shoulder to talk, not wanting to take his eyes off the road. ‘Don’t look so scared, I think you’ll be safe now. The bad man’s gone.’ There was no response, only a small cry from Tasha who was curled up tightly on the back seat, her hands tied.

  Arnie was worried. ‘Are you all right? You look awful. Let me do up the window.’ He took his hands off the steering wheel and the car zig-zagged across the road, making a passing car steer up on to the grassy bank to avoid a collision.

  Having taken control of Tasha’s Bentley again, Arnie slowed right down, stopping on the gravelled side in front of an entrance to a farm. He turned off the engine and moved round so he could see her properly, then reached out and stroked her hair, wiping away her tears. He pulled off her gag.

  ‘You’re sad.’

  ‘Take me home Arnie. Please. Just take me home,’ she wept.

  Arnold’s face turned to a smile. ‘Really? You want to go home? You’re not just saying that to make me happy?’

  Tasha only stared ahead as Arnie replaced her gag.

  ‘Lovely, then off we go. How about that sing-along?’

  41

  Ray-Ray. He was the only thing she could think of. Ray-Ray. The words she hadn’t dared to imagine she’d be able to say again. The tears streamed down Laila’s face as she ran down Greek Street still in her long dress, minus her shoes, and ignoring all the stares she was getting. All she could think was, Ray-Ray.

  His face. What had happened to his face? She shivered, terrified of the next thought, terrified that she was to blame.

  What must he think of her? She’d held on to him in her mind like a person held onto a candle in the darkness. He’d been her everything. On the hardest days the idea of him had kept her going. But she’d messed everything up, and she was not only frightened she wouldn’t she see him again but she was also scared he might hate her. That thought, she didn’t think she could live with.

  Wiping away her tears, she hoped Yvonne would be back soon. She needed to talk; everything seemed to be falling apart. She’d tried to call her but it’d gone straight to voicemail. Probably her battery had died. Heading up the walk-up stairs, Laila hoped Johno wasn’t waiting for her, wanting to know why she hadn’t called him to pick her up from the hotel.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Anita, one of the other girls in the walk-up scowled as Laila came in. ‘I’ve been run off me bleeding feet. If it ain’t a blow job, it’s a shag. They’ve been queuing up like they’re after tickets for the FA Cup final. God knows how I’ll bleeding walk tomorrow. Me fanny feels like a pneumatic drill’s been up it.’

  Laila smiled weakly, changing into a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. ‘Sorry, I don’t know where Yvonne is, she’s supposed to be here.’

  ‘‘Supposed’ isn’t ‘here’ though is it? I’m going home. You can finish off.’ Anita screwed up her face.

  Laila shuddered. She’d only done one massage before and it’d made her physically sick. Yvonne had told her to think of it as if she was a masseuse in a posh health spa rather than a girl working in a walk-up in the middle of Soho.

  She stood above the man who was lying face down on the massage table naked to the waist, wishing with all her heart that Anita hadn’t been so desperate to go without finishing off this client.

  Wanting to get on with it, Laila poured some oil in her hands. She rubbed them together to warm it up, knowing she was putting off the inevitable. Her hands paused above his back, not wanting to touch him.

  Gritting her teeth, Laila slid one hand towards his shoulder, the other towards his hip, cringing at every touch she made. She could feel the goosebumps on her skin, adding to her sense of repulsion. Her stomach cramped, and she wanted to retch as she moved both hands to massage his shoulders, kneading away the tension in them but adding to her own. Every fibre of her being screamed out as her fingers slid to the top of his arm, grasping his flesh and turning her hands in circular motions down his arms.

  She moved down to his hand, turning it over to massage the palm and down to his fingers, then went round to the other side to do the same to the other arm, seeing the tension in him.

  As she got to his wrist, Laila began to slow down, suddenly becoming more uncomfortable than she already was. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, Laila moved her hands down towards the man’s clenched fist, her ey
es darting across his body and towards the door.

  Cautiously, she took one hand away, stepping quietly back as tears stung her eyes. As she moved away some more, the man’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. Laila pulled away but his grasp was too tight. She screamed as he pulled her towards him.

  ‘Hello Laila, you didn’t think I’d let you get away so easily do you?’ Baz Gupta sneered as he looked at his wife.

  ‘What the bloody hell …’ Yvonne walked into the room. At the sight of Baz she froze, glancing over at a terrified Laila.

  ‘Oh look, it’s the other tart. How cosy. I’ve come to collect my wife.’ Baz held Laila in an arm lock around her neck as he stared at Yvonne. Her first thought was to wade in and help, but she knew there was a good chance of her being overpowered.

  Backing out of the room, Yvonne turned and ran, almost throwing herself down the stairs. She crossed over Greek Street, not hesitating as she dodged the cars and weaved through the late-night partygoers hiding from the summer downpour. Cutting through the side street to get to Charing Cross Road, she hoped it wasn’t too late.

  ‘Come on, come on.’ The traffic was building up, making it impossible for Yvonne to cross. She didn’t have time to wait. Bolting up the same side towards Centrepoint, smashing into anyone who got in her way, she saw the number 38 bus on the other side of the road. ‘Tariq! Tariq!’ She could see him going to sit down, taking his seat on the bottom deck, but then another bus blocked her vision. She tried to cross but was forced back by the oncoming black cabs. ‘Tariq!’ She waved her arms but he didn’t look out of the window. Running down the road, she kept her eyes on the bus, trying to keep up as it gained speed. The lights at Cambridge Circus were about to change from red to green. If he didn’t see her now he’d be gone. Looking right, she saw a car hurtling towards her and closing her eyes, she ran across the road.

  She heard the screech of tyres, a horn and people screaming. The car crashed into the back of the black taxi on the other side of the road to avoid hitting Yvonne.