Betrayal

by Martina Cole

  Agnes came into the kitchen in her school uniform and Aiden looked at her with pride. From her blue eyes to her thick, dark hair and tanned skin, she was absolutely stunning, even at nine.

  Patsy was a typical half-caste. You could see his West Indian heritage and he was a good-looking fucker – he turned a few heads when he hit the town. Then there was Eugene, with his African blackness, handsome in an aloof kind of way, and very, very funny. He was also the bookworm of the family; he would read anything from a takeaway menu to The Times newspaper. He had made the entire family join the library so he could get out more books in their names. Aiden had a feeling he would go far in life. Eugene had something about him, he had a stillness, an aura that made people listen to him. Then there was Porrick, with his red hair and milk-bottle white skin. He was quiet, but he could stand up for himself. He wasn’t tall like the other boys, but what he lacked in height he made up for in ferociousness, as Eugene had found out on more than one occasion. Porrick would fight to the death; he wouldn’t give up or admit defeat. He had a Napoleon complex in that he would fight the biggest fucker to prove his worthiness and show that he was not to be fucked with in any way. Aiden, like the others, admired Porrick for that.

  It wasn’t easy, being born into a family like theirs; they were a motley crew, each with different fathers, all different colours – and so completely different to the people around them. They were a world apart in many respects, but they worked as a family unit and that was what mattered. Aiden adored his brothers and his sister, and he would never let anyone fucking mug them off.

  He watched as the kids sorted themselves out, getting extra slices of toast and drinking the last of their teas.

  ‘Jade is picking me up in an hour, Mum.’

  Reeva took a deep puff on her cigarette and said sarcastically, ‘She’s good at that, ain’t she? Picking up men!’

  Aiden closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The atmosphere in the kitchen was suddenly charged and the younger kids went quiet. Aiden started to laugh, a jovial laugh that made them breathe a sigh of relief. Then, straight-faced he said with quiet vehemence, ‘You do make me fucking laugh at times, Mother. You have been round the block a few times yourself, in case you’d forgotten. You fucking old hypocrite.’

  Reeva laughed scornfully as she retorted, ‘I’m fucking younger than her!’

  Aiden closed his eyes and then he said nastily, ‘Yeah, but you would never know that, would you? Be fair, Mum, though. She looks ten years younger . . .’

  When Reeva launched herself across the table the children scattered out into the hallway. Of all the things they had witnessed in their young lives, Reeva attacking Aiden was not one of them. Agnes was screaming in abject fear as Patsy tried to separate his mother from his brother.

  Aiden was holding Reeva by her wrists and, unable to scratch or punch him, she was trying to kick him. With the help of Patsy, Aiden forced her back on to the kitchen table and held her as she screamed profanities and tried to escape until she ran out of strength.

  When, finally, she was crying loudly and shuddering with distress they let her go. Aiden bundled her into his arms and held her until she calmed down. Patsy went to Agnes and tried to do the same for her but she was inconsolable with fear and terror. Picking her up, he brought her into the kitchen where Aiden sat his mother on a chair and took his little sister into his arms. Aiden held her and soothed her until she calmed down, but he was feeling an anger that he knew was well founded and liable to explode at any second. He looked at his mother and he knew she saw the turmoil he was experiencing and, for once, she had the grace to look away. This is what Reeva did best − upset everyone and then acted the victim. But this time they knew she had gone too far.

  When Jade Dixon came in a few minutes later she took one look at the scene around her and said pointedly, ‘Been playing happy families again, Reeva?’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Annie O’Hara loved her daughter with a fierce passion but she despaired of her at times. For everything Reeva was, Annie knew that deep inside she loved her family with all her considerable heart. The trouble with Reeva was that she had what Annie always thought of as ‘a screw loose somewhere’. She could go weeks being as good as gold and then the devil seemed to take over and she was impossible in more ways than one.

  Today seemed to be one of those long and pointless days. The kids had filled her in on the morning’s events, and Annie accepted she would have to forego her Bingo this day to keep an eye on her daughter, and make sure she didn’t get into too much trouble. Aiden had asked her specifically to stop Reeva from ruining everything in that particular way she had when she was on a roll. Annie knew that he was absolutely right. Her daughter needed policing. To make matters worse, Aiden’s relationship with Jade Dixon was like a red rag to the proverbial bull to Reeva, who thought it was all wrong. Annie could see that it wasn’t really the age difference − it was just plain old jealousy on Reeva’s part. Reeva would have been the same with any girl that Aiden took up with. In many ways she treated her eldest son as the husband she had never had, and she didn’t like the thought of him putting another woman before her. In her more rational moments, she acknowledged that what she felt was wrong, outrageously wrong. But then the jealousy would overwhelm her and she would lash out. She wound up regretting her anger eventually. But by then the damage had been done.

  Annie poured them both more tea and Reeva sipped hers disconsolately.

  ‘You know, Reeva, there’s a good side to Jade. She’s had a tough life in her own way.’

  Reeva sighed heavily and lit a cigarette. Taking a deep pull on it, she said sarcastically, ‘Oh well, that’s sorted then. Shall I invite her round for dinner? Or how about Sunday tea? She’s a fucking infection, that’s what she is. And she has infected my son.’

  Annie simply smiled and shook her head calmly and Reeva felt the shame that always accompanied her mum’s reasoning. Because, although she hated to admit it, her mum was always right in the long run. And that rankled.

  Annie gently grasped her daughter’s hand in hers. ‘You know your trouble, Reeva? You can’t stand him wanting anyone but you. He’s your son, not your husband, and if you don’t sort yourself out soon you will end up losing him for good.’

  Her mother was giving her sound advice, but for the life of her Reeva would never acknowledge that. How could she? Reeva had always been economical with the truth, especially when it pertained to her own actions and feelings.

  ‘Oh, Mum.’

  Annie pulled her daughter into her arms and held her tightly as she talked her down, and tried to make her see reason in the chaos that was her world.

  ‘I can’t let him leave me. I need him to sort me out, and sort the kids out . . .’

  Annie held her and listened with half an ear; she had heard it all so many times before.

  ‘He would never leave you, Reeva, or the kids. But I warn you now, if you push him this time and force him to make a choice between you and her, you could lose him. Oh, he would still be there for you, but he will have to take a big step back. Jade is a sensible woman, and she is a good person in many ways. You have to find some kind of common ground with her, because she is not his usual squeeze − she is someone he respects, as well as loves. And that’s a dangerous combination. Take it from me, love, I know what I’m talking about. If only I’d done things differently with your dad . . .’ She trailed off, seeing the pain flare in her daughter’s eyes as she reminded her of the first man to leave her.

  Reeva didn’t want to listen, even though she knew her mother was right. She couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth of the situation. She saw her son as wholly hers, and that was that.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Aiden was immediately aware that there was some kind of crisis. This was one of the premises used for what was termed ‘special requests’. What that actually meant was that the merchandise here was younger than any of them dared admit out loud, even to one another.
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  As they let themselves in, a tall woman with a hooked nose and expensively styled hair closed her eyes in obvious distress saying, ‘Thank fuck you’re here. I think she’s dead.’

  Jade immediately took control and, grabbing the woman’s arm roughly, she said, in a calm voice, ‘Relax, Rita, and show me where she is.’

  Relieved that she could now pass the buck on to someone else, Rita Shaw nodded and led them up the small staircase to the room where a young girl, no more than twelve, lay on a double bed covered in blood.

  ‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened here?’

  Aiden’s voice was quiet and Jade could see that he was in danger of losing his temper. Turning to him she looked straight into his eyes. He saw the warning there, and he took it on board.

  Jade waited a couple of seconds to make sure he had regained his composure before she said assertively, ‘I can deal with this. You go and find out what happened, calm the situation down, eh?’

  Her rationality communicated itself to him and, taking a deep breath, he nodded once before leaving the room with Rita Shaw in tow.

  In the kitchen he saw three of the younger girls and a boy of about thirteen sitting forlornly around the table. A huge man with sad eyes, sparse blond hair and a crumpled suit was sitting watching over them and, as he caught Aiden’s eye, there was a deep sadness there which was not actually mirrored in his own. But by now he knew how to play the game.

  Unlike this man, Aiden was acting a part. Over the past few years he had begun to feel less and less empathy for the people he supplied or dealt with on a daily basis. This was just another part of the business, and that was how it had to be. He was shocked at the girl’s demise and at her youth. But he was, at the end of the day, a realist. Not that he felt the person responsible should get away with it. This was, after all, beyond the pale in his world. But he had become hardened to the world of nonces and he was sensible enough to know that he had to act like he was outraged, even to Jade, who, despite her upbringing, still harboured a lingering care for the youths under her protection. Aiden had guessed some time ago that to admit that he no longer had much of a conscience was not conducive to good work relations, and this bloke here was a prime example.

  Joe Redpath was a strong lad, but he was also a softie where certain things were concerned. He had told Eric time and again not to give him the younger merchandise to look after − he was too chicken-hearted for the task. Yet Eric seemed to find that amusing and often put him on duty in these more ‘select’ establishments, as they were referred to in the trade. Joe hated it with all his being but he did what was asked of him nevertheless. He was paid to do a job and he more than fulfilled his duties – that was a matter of pride with him. It didn’t mean he had to like it, as he pointed out at every available opportunity, even though his complaints seemed to fall on deaf ears.

  ‘Janey!’

  Aiden’s call reverberated around the two-storey flat and, within seconds, a girl of about nineteen with long, red, waist-length hair and a noticeable squint rushed into the room saying breathlessly, ‘Sorry, Aiden, I was calming the twins down.’

  He nodded and said in a low voice, ‘Take this lot and keep them quiet. Has Rita rung the doctor?’

  She nodded and gathered the children together, taking them out of the room with her, grateful to get away from the man who terrified her.

  Joe Redpath looked at Aiden with as much contempt as he thought he could get away with and said quietly, ‘I’ve got the fire going in the main front room to burn the sheets and stuff and I have already briefed the kids that it was a terrible accident − though they don’t believe it, no more than I would. I’ve also put the man responsible in the back bedroom. I’ve locked him in, more for his benefit than anyone else’s. If I go near him I’ll break his fucking neck. I have roughed him up a bit, I admit that. He’s a cunt, and that is the long and the short of it. I won’t be fucking buying his records no more, put it that way.’ Joe shook his head sadly and said with finality, ‘I am sorry, Ade, but I ain’t working this shit no more. If Eric don’t like it I will go elsewhere.’

  Aiden nodded. ‘I will sort it, Joe, don’t worry. You let the doctor in, mate, OK? And I will take care of Twinkle Toes up in the back bedroom. Fucking nonce.’

  Joe nodded and Aiden left him, walking heavily up the staircase to deal with the man concerned. He was a big popstar with a huge following and a reputation as a ladies’ man. The truth was he couldn’t get it up with a real woman; he liked them young and flat-chested. He was a fucking animal, but he paid well. Well, he would have to, wouldn’t he, given the nature of his fantasies and his public persona?

  It never failed to amaze Aiden the people they dealt with. Household names some of them, from all walks of life, and backgrounds and environments. The only thing they had in common − other than their penchant for young kids − was the fact they were fucking loaded, seriously wedged up, and well able to pay to indulge in their peculiar tastes. Although he didn’t feel the same shock as he had at first, Aiden still looked down on this particular clientele because they lived a lie in one way or another. But then wasn’t everyone guilty of that to some extent?

  He sighed deeply as he opened the bedroom door and looked at the handsome man sitting miserably on the edge of the bed. He looked like what he was to Aiden − a big, debauched bully. It was well known that he was spiteful with the girls and, as such, he paid extra for that privilege.

  Plastering a neutral expression on his face, Aiden said softly, ‘I’ll get you a brandy. I am sure you could do with one.’

  The man nodded and said in a surprisingly deep voice, ‘I don’t know what went wrong. We have played that game before. If she had only kept still none of this would have happened . . .’

  His voice trailed off and, while Aiden poured him a large Courvoisier, he controlled the urge to slam the bottle into the man’s face. He left the man sipping his brandy; he had heard the doctor arrive and he wanted to know the state of play.

  The doctor was a middle-aged man with a balding head, and a bad case of psoriasis. He also had a hygiene problem that included halitosis. He was arrogant and badly dressed and no one on the job liked him, especially not the boys he requested. The girls too loathed him and so did Aiden. He was disgusting in every way. He was useful, though, in that he would sedate the more nervous newbies and, of course, he would prescribe drugs for the clientele’s satisfaction, if requested. He had a big practice in Hampstead and he was known for his willingness to give out slimming pills without any questions. And he had a seemingly never-ending supply of like-minded contacts who had money and status and, significantly, influence − the latter, of course, being the most important.

  The doctor had a very big celebrity clientele because of his generosity with narcotics and this was what inflated his already high opinion of himself. Apparently he was a good doctor in other ways and was often called in by the police to carry out autopsies on some of their more outrageous murder victims. This might have been to do with the fact that the Chief Superintendent was also a regular visitor to this particular establishment, although he liked girls of about fifteen so he didn’t see himself in quite the same way as he did the other clients. He saw his girls as almost grown up, and he liked them to pretend that he was doing them the favour of a lifetime. People’s hypocrisy would never cease to amaze Aiden O’Hara. But it was what made him a serious wedge so he was quite willing to overlook a lot of things.

  Doctor Flint was washing his hands in the small en-suite bathroom as Aiden entered the room. Aiden noticed that Jade was white-faced and looked as if she was going to be sick − that was a definite first for her, as far as Aiden knew. That she was kind to what she always referred to as ‘the merchandise’ didn’t exactly hide the fact that she had a decent streak running through her somewhere, and he knew she argued with Eric about customers like the quivering popstar who had caused this latest fucking debacle.

  ‘What happened?’

  She was sh
aking her head, her huge eyes actually glistening with tears, and he instinctively put an arm around her. At least the doctor had had the grace to cover the poor child up.

  Flint’s booming voice came out of the tiny bathroom as he wiped his hands. ‘Shoved something up inside her a good few hours ago, I would say. Peritonitis is my guess. Ripped her open inside.’

  His voice was matter-of-fact and that was not lost on Aiden or Jade. Just another fucking day to this bloke. Aiden was gritting his teeth in suppressed anger.

  ‘What? What did he use?’

  Flint shrugged. ‘I won’t know that until I remove it but, if it is what I think it is, you don’t want to know, laddie.’

  He walked into the room and said to Jade, ‘Get her sent to mine. I’ll do what’s required. Talk to the Chief, he will smooth it over. We’ll have her sorted in a few days and cremated without a fuss. I deal with a lot of street kids in my volunteer capacity. This will be all forgotten about in no time.’

  He touched her arm gently and Jade moved away from him. Flint was aware of the move and Aiden saw the anger in the man’s eyes. He was acting the hero and not getting the thanks he expected.

  ‘How’s our singing star? Does he need a sedative?’

  Jade nodded and then, seeming to pull herself together, she said in a quiet voice that was full of forced humility, ‘They all love their chemicals, don’t they? Thank you for coming so promptly, Doctor.’

  Flint grinned. This was better, this was what he liked.

  Aiden waved him out saying, ‘He’s in the top bedroom. I’m sure he will be delighted to see you. Give him one up the arse for me!’

  The doctor actually laughed at what he perceived as a good joke and left the room.

  When they were alone Aiden pulled her into his arms and, holding her to him, he said gently, ‘Come on, Jade. This happens, we both know that. It’s part of the game.’ He drew her closer and kissed her gently on her cheek. Then he was all businesslike as he said, ‘Has she any family? Is there anyone who could cause us trouble?’