Betrayal

by Martina Cole

  Despite her annoyance, Reeva laughed with him. She knew when she was caught out. And Tony marvelled at this family who could fight one minute and laugh the next.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Agnes was sitting on Aiden’s lap and he was holding her tightly to him. Eric Palmer was impressed to see the lad take care of his family like a father. As Aiden picked up a cream cake and gave it to his sister, Eric felt the urge to cry, and wondered if he was going soft in his old age. His own kids were spoiled brats who were only interested in themselves. This boy was single-handedly keeping his family together and, with Reeva as a mother, that had to be a full-time job.

  ‘I like cake, Ade.’

  Aiden laughed at Agnes and said gently, ‘Everyone likes cake, darling. God invented cake so you could celebrate things like birthdays, and to comfort you at other times when you are sad. Nothing like a cake to cheer you up, eh?’

  She laughed delightedly with him. Eric noticed she was a beautiful child; she looked like she had a bit of Arab or Turk in her, with huge blue eyes and jet-black hair. Aiden would be chasing the men off with a shotgun if she got her mother’s build.

  Eric remembered the young Reeva. God, she could bring a grown man to his knees with a smile. Trouble was, she was liable to be the one on her knees. She was a girl all right. He had had her himself − before she had so many kids, of course.

  Now he was sitting in a café on the Roman Road having a business meeting and this lad had brought his youngest sister because, as he had explained, his mother was indisposed. Eric assumed she had the hangover from hell.

  ‘The thing is, Aiden, I think it’s time I introduced you around to my other business partners. They all know about you, and I think you would do well to get a handle on the different businesses I have.’

  This was music to Aiden’s ears. It meant Eric was grooming him to take over eventually, providing he proved himself fitting. Which he would − this was what he had been aiming for. This was what it was all about. He smiled, and there was genuine pleasure in it. Eric Palmer liked to be appreciated. It showed a man’s mettle if he was big enough to acknowledge when someone was doing them a great kindness.

  A man walked into the café and Aiden immediately stiffened. When the man approached the table he instinctively tightened his hold on Agnes, who was immediately aware of the change in atmosphere. Her huge eyes were troubled now and she snuggled into her brother. The man was big and sweaty-looking, with a bald head and dead eyes.

  Eric Palmer smiled and said casually, ‘Aiden O’Hara, let me introduce Detective Chief Superintendent Smith. Bent Filth and all-round prize cunt. But he’s my prize cunt so he’s harmless. Smith, this is my protégé, Aiden.’

  Aiden was amazed at the way the Old Bill didn’t react to the insults. He just stuck out his hand and Aiden shook it, bewildered now. Then Eric and Smith both laughed together, like the old friends they were.

  ‘You bastard, Palmer!’

  Then Smith looked at Agnes and said seriously, ‘What a beautiful child. Mind you, son, your mum’s a good looker, no doubt about that, eh?’

  Aiden felt that he had walked into a nightmare. This man was hated, and not just by criminals. Yet here he was, in broad daylight, having a cup of tea with them and acting like he was welcome. Which, from Eric Palmer’s point of view, he was.

  ‘You are now under Smith’s protection, son. So, play nicely!’

  The two older men laughed again and Smith said seriously, ‘Remember, son − things are often not what you first think. Most of life is smoke and mirrors. Now, I’m going to have a cup of tea and get myself off to the station. Got murders going on at the moment and I mean that literally. Two men shot in Mile End last night. Fucking Jamaicans, always bring their feuds into the street. Much easier all round if the bodies just disappear. But what can you do? They like to make examples. Logic there, I suppose.’

  Aiden listened to the two men talking and realised that for all his so-called intelligence he had a fucking lot to learn. He guessed this was what this meeting was about. Eric was bringing him into a world that needed to be negotiated very carefully if you wanted to survive in it. And Eric Palmer had survived a lot longer than his contemporaries. Not only was he still alive, but he wasn’t banged up for thirty years either.

  Agnes had now taken quite a liking to the big, bald man and Aiden was amazed when Smith took her on his lap, happily chatting away to her as if this was a normal event. Just a normal day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Reeva walked into the Co-op to get her cigarettes. She was still fragile after the events of the day before and she had to be on her best behaviour − Aiden had made that plain this morning at breakfast. She would pick up her fags and then she would go to the butcher’s to get something lovely in for dinner. And she’d make some cakes. She was once more on the maternal wavelength, happy to be looking after her family. Agnes had gone with Aiden for a few hours so Reeva had time to sort herself out. The house already looked spotless, and she had even washed her nets.

  Now, as she waited to be served, she saw Big Pete’s wife, Carol, looking at her in the window and, with her usual front, Reeva smiled and waved at her as if nothing untoward had happened between them. Carol smiled back and walked into the shop. She was an imposing woman with a beautiful face and an easy-going personality. The latter was a requisite if you were married to a man like her husband.

  ‘All right, Reeva.’

  This was a form of address, not a question, and Reeva smiled engagingly as she answered her. ‘Yeah, mate. I’m good. About yesterday . . .’

  Carol flapped her hand in dismissal. ‘We have all done it, love! Too much to drink too early in the day.’

  They laughed liked drains, and the incident was over and done with. Then they started the serious gossiping and stood together for a good ten minutes, either slaughtering mutual friends or sympathising with them, depending. Reeva was in her element.

  Jack watched the women, relieved, and ignored his wife, Doris, as she scowled at them with disapproval.

  Suddenly the door was smashed open and two young men in balaclavas came inside brandishing a shotgun and a small handgun.

  Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew that robbery was on the increase but he never dreamed that he would be on the receiving end of it. He heard Doris cry out in fear and moved towards her to protect her. That was when one of the firearms went off. It shot by his shoulder, grazing the skin, and he didn’t know who was the more surprised − himself, or the lad who had inadvertently fired his gun.

  Reeva stepped forward quickly, shouting angrily, ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you dozy pair of fucking twits? Fucking out on the rob in this weather?’

  The boy with the shotgun was terrified, Reeva could see it in his eyes. The other lad was shaking after the gunshot had frightened him with its noise.

  Then she heard one of them say sharply, ‘Oh, fuck! It’s Aiden’s fucking mother!’

  The two lads ran from the shop into the harsh sunshine and Reeva and the other occupants were left staring at each other in shock.

  Then Jack Walters seemed to realise he had been shot at and he collapsed on to the floor. There was pandemonium.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Aiden O’Hara was like the Antichrist. That someone had robbed his local shop while his mother was on the premises was basically unbelievable. He could not comprehend such outrageousness, such stupidity. It did not take him long to find out the names of the culprits and apprehend them. After giving them a serious hammering, he made clear to all and sundry that anyone even thinking of robbing on his manor would be dealt with harshly. This was backed up by Eric Palmer and so was now like the eleventh commandment, written in stone and never to be forgotten.

  Doris Walters, despite herself, had to show her gratitude and, in a strange way, she was grateful because it could all have been so much worse. Reeva was suddenly made aware of just how much of a reputation her boy was garnering for himself. It wa
s a real eye-opener. That Doris Walters now served her with something approaching politeness spoke volumes in itself! And Reeva was not about to let something like this pass her by without making the most of it. No, Reeva O’Hara was the new Violet Kray as far as she was concerned. And she was determined to milk it for all it was worth.

  Chapter Twenty

  The deeper Aiden went into Eric’s world, the more it amazed him. He had suspected that Eric Palmer was into all sorts − he had just not realised how far the man’s arm could reach. No wonder Eric was always watching his back – he walked a fine line every day of his life because a lot of the stuff he was involved in was not to everyone’s taste.

  Today Aiden was in a private house in Kensington, where very young girls and boys were used by much older men. He concealed his shock easily – looking like he wasn’t bothered was his natural demeanour. But inside he was disgusted. These were little more than kids for all their make-up and sexy clothes. Even in the big, bad world of Faces there were many who would view this kind of set up with scandal and abhorrence. Prostitution was always there but the management of kids was frowned on by more than a few hard men.

  The man he was accompanying was called Rufus Martin and he was a big Rastafarian with gold teeth and a serious paunch. He smoked dope continuously and smelled like an ashtray.

  ‘Bit young, ain’t they?’

  Rufus shrugged, saying quietly, ‘This is where the money is, boy. This is what the men who come here want.’

  Aiden kept his own counsel. There was no way he would ever be heard saying anything even remotely detrimental about anything Eric controlled. He already knew how to play the game and his natural reticence was working for him. That didn’t mean he had to like it, but he reasoned that everyone had to do things they didn’t particularly like or agree with. That was part and parcel of life, no matter who you were.

  He followed Rufus through to the so-called offices. In this case they were in the basement of the house and were surprisingly smart, considering. Behind a large mahogany desk sat a blonde with pale green eyes and an alluring smile. Aiden felt her looking him over as if he was on sale and he returned the look as best he could. But he was bowled over. The woman was stunning, and it seemed she knew it as well as he did.

  ‘And you are?’

  Her voice was well modulated but there was still a cockney twang there and that helped with Aiden’s unaccustomed nervousness.

  Rufus laughed loudly. ‘Put the boy down with those green eyes of yours. This is young Aiden, Eric’s protégé!’

  The woman sat back in the chair and appraised Aiden once more and he felt the heat of her gaze wash over him. Only this time she wasn’t taking the piss.

  She waved a well-manicured hand at Rufus and said dismissively, ‘Bye, Rufus.’ The big man left without a murmur.

  ‘Sit yourself down and let’s get acquainted, shall we?’

  Aiden did as he was told. Never in his life before had he felt like this. He was aware that this woman liked the effect she was having on him. He had a feeling she had the same effect on most of the male population.

  She stood up and held her hand out elegantly for him to shake it, saying seductively, ‘I’m Jade Dixon and this is my house.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Reeva and the other kids were watching Knight Rider repeats when Aiden finally arrived home. Reeva jumped up immediately and put the kettle on. She was once more on the up and up and, as a consequence, everything she did was with vigour and a smile.

  Aiden could tell she had had a few drinks but nothing catastrophic, so he was happy enough. Agnes ran to him and he picked her up and kissed her, asking the boys what they had been up to and what had constituted their various days. He was, for all intents and purposes, the man of the house.

  Tony came into the room and smiled widely on seeing Aiden. The two men shook hands. ‘How’s madam been?’

  Tony and Aiden laughed as she shouted from the kitchen, ‘Oi, I fucking heard that!’

  The kids were happy, Reeva was happy and Aiden was over the fucking moon. He had somehow fallen in love in the space of a few hours, and that was not something he would ever have envisioned. Especially not with a woman who peddled other women and children for a living and was a fair bit older than him. But he felt so good he was willing to run with it.

  Reeva brought in the teas and they all started to chat. This was what Aiden loved; this family life when everyone was acting normally and they could at least pretend for a while that it was not an illusion based around his mother’s moods and her capacity to imbibe huge quantities of drink and drugs. Mainly she let down her children, who lived in constant terror of what she would do next; she was a fucking flake at times. She disappointed Aiden because he felt she should always put them first. But the drink and the drugs were her escape. She would get out of bed, all sweetness and light, and then she would go on a bender, and those benders were legendary. Why she did it was a mystery but, as Aiden reasoned, their whole faith was based on one mystery after another − one more wouldn’t do any harm. Reeva’s life was a constant stream of chaotic events followed by weeks, occasionally even months, of absolute perfection where she cooked, cleaned and gave her kids the attention they needed. And, in fairness, even when she was on a bender they never disputed that she loved them dearly.

  Aiden understood she was still young and that she felt the need to get out and away from her responsibilities. She craved drama and the knowledge that she was still attractive. When things got rocky with Tony and he took off for a bit, she got lonely and, when the loneliness got too much, she sought out company and excitement to recapture her youth. With that belief she still had hope; hope of a real partner, a real man who would be there for her always. Aiden didn’t share that hope, but he admired his mother’s optimism. And she was the eternal optimist, even though the men she gravitated towards were about as much use to her as a fucking pork chop in a mosque. He made allowances for her, providing she didn’t start too much trouble, because whatever people might say about her, he knew that she did the best she could. She pretended that what people said about her didn’t bother her, but it did. Nevertheless she had fronted out each of her pregnancies and she had loved every one of her babies − for that he would always love her in return.

  But Aiden was well aware that his feelings for Jade would not be welcomed by this woman who he adored and hated in equal measure because his mum couldn’t cope without him orchestrating her every move and she’d see him moving away from her. He had started protecting her at a very young age and now she depended on him far more than was healthy for either of them. But he was a man now, in his own right. And he was in love, really in love, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jade Dixon was thirty-four years old and looked a lot younger, but then that had always been in her favour. Jade had started her life in a mother and baby home, before being adopted by a nice, wealthy, Christian couple. The mother she had inherited had been a manic-depressive and the father had a penchant for young girls. Very young girls, the younger the better, so Jade’s life had been blighted pretty much from the get-go. Privilege had come at a big price and she had finally escaped aged thirteen with a man she had met at a fair. He was the first in a long line of men who had seen her, wanted her, had her and ultimately used her in more ways than one. By fifteen she was selling herself and she had learned a valuable lesson: men were to be used, not the other way around.

  Since that lightning-bolt revelation she believed she had done quite well for herself and, in the grand scheme of things, in the world she inhabited, she actually had. For a start she was rich; she had her own home close to work and a smart car. She was also practically devoid of anything even remotely resembling empathy or love. The nearest she had come to love was for her dog and when she’d died having puppies Jade had washed her hands of even that. She was like a very beautiful doll that was smashed inside but outwardly looked perfect. She knew how to
make the best of her startling good looks and she took pride and pleasure in her appearance. It was, after all, her stock-in-trade. Not that she flogged her arse any more, of course, but it gave the girls she had working for her something to aspire to.

  If she could work her way up, why couldn’t they? That was the message she always conveyed, and they believed it. Jade manipulated everyone in her orbit, and she was hero-worshipped by the girls she handled. She made sure of that much.

  Now she had been sent a fucking child to train in the ways of the world and, though she would do as she was told, there was an anger inside her about it. But she knew better than to cross Eric Palmer. For all his good-natured banter, he would skin her alive and not even break out in a sweat. Oh, she knew all about Eric and his little foibles.

  The new boy, Aiden, seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, and he was easy on the eye. He looked much older than his nineteen years, had a good physique and, in fairness, he had been very well mannered and polite, which was always a plus in her game. So many of the men looked down on the working girls − and that was another thing that angered her. And, as everyone knew, it did not do to get Jade angry. Jade Dixon angry was not a pretty sight and it always ended in tears for whoever had irritated her.

  But Aiden intrigued her. He talked about his mother like she was the second coming, and he had looked at her as she had wanted him to look at her. It was always good to have people in your corner, another thing she had learned at a very early age.

  So, she dressed carefully for the second meeting with him. She wanted to look her absolute best. She was going to bowl him over.