The Betrayed: A shocking, gritty thriller that will hook you from the first page

by Casey Kelleher

  Still, a part of her would miss Edel now. While they’d never really been close, Joanie and Edel had put their differences aside over the years and got along, for the sake of the children. She hadn’t been much older than Joanie either. That was the thing that had affected Joanie the most. The woman’s sudden passing was a reminder to her that, while life sometimes led you to believe you were immortal, when your time was up, it was up. In reality that’s how short and shocking it could be.

  ‘You all right, Nan?’ Nancy Byrne said as she placed her arm around her dear nan, hugging her tightly. She’d clearly been thinking the very same. Always worrying about her poor old nan. The girl was a diamond, she really was.

  ‘I’m grand, girl.’ Joanie smiled, a genuine smile, blinking back the tears in her eyes at how blessed she was. She’d never thought she’d love anyone as much as she loved her Jimmy, but her granddaughter had stolen her heart.

  ‘Look at those two!’ Joanie said, glancing over to where Colleen and Michael were sitting at the kitchen table. The pair of them like the two black sheep of the family, segregating themselves from everyone else, as they proceeded to drink themselves stupid. Though, Michael had already done that many moons ago. The chance of him having any brain cells left in his hollow head was probably few and far between.

  ‘She’s an embarrassment,’ Nancy said, staring at her mother with irritation as the woman continued talking animatedly to her grandad – who was another one that Nancy didn’t have any time for.

  Her grandad had always had a soft spot for Colleen. Sitting with her now, letting her mother vent as Colleen’s voice got louder and more high-pitched the more that she drank.

  Nancy smarted. Looking around the room, she could see by the faces that she wasn’t the only one to think that her mother was a state. Her puffy eyes, black with mascara that she’d smudged across her cheeks and down her face; a trail of snot streaming from her nose, which she wiped away with the sleeve of her black dress. Bawling now. Sobbing hysterically, as she talked shit to Nancy’s grandad, stopping only to glug back some more of her precious wine.

  ‘We’ve not even been back here an hour, and she’s pissed already.’ Nancy’s tone, like herself, was so detached from her mother that she didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy that she might be struggling today. Instead she felt only annoyance.

  ‘She’s making the rest of the guests here uncomfortable,’ Joanie added, purposely fuelling Nancy’s disgust. ‘I’d say something to her, but you know how she gets if I try and offer her any advice. She’ll only throw it back in my face, accuse me of having a dig or something equally ridiculous. You know how she likes to convince herself that she can’t do any wrong.’

  Nancy nodded. Oh she knew all right. Her mother was ever the victim.

  ‘I’ll go and have a word. She’ll listen to me,’ Nancy said, knowing how her mother and nan only grated on each other.

  ‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Mother,’ Nancy said, her tone clipped as she didn’t bother to wait for a response. Swiping her mother’s wine glass from her hand, she knew too well that she would only argue the toss with her, and Nancy wasn’t in the mood. Not here and now, in front of everyone they knew.

  ‘Er excuse me,’ Colleen shrieked, instantly rendering everyone else in the room silent at her sudden outburst; but clearly not giving two shits as she snatched the glass back from her daughter’s grasp. ‘I’ll say when I’ve had enough.’

  Nancy leaned in close. Keeping her voice low, controlled, as she spoke through gritted teeth. ‘You’re making a holy show of yourself! People are looking at you!’

  It was a warning. Colleen knew that. This wasn’t the Byrne way, was it? Being real. Showing any form of emotion. Well fuck Jimmy and his pathetic rules. Colleen wasn’t prepared to play nicely. Not today.

  ‘So what if they’re watching me. Who cares! Let them fucking well look,’ she shouted, sloshing her wine out of the glass as she flung it around exaggeratedly, letting everyone in the room know that she wanted them to hear what she had to say about them all. ‘Look at them! Dressing their nosey bastard ways up as sympathy and concern. None of these people are here for me. Most of them aren’t even here for my mother. They’re all here for Jimmy and Joanie. Stuffing their faces full of all our food and wine. Like it’s some kind of free for all. Treating my mother’s funeral like it’s some kind of social occasion.’ Colleen was shouting now.

  Aware that everyone was looking at her. And of Jimmy standing across the room with his sidekick, Alex, and that bent copper, Taylor. All staring back at her, horrified, as she did what they’d been expecting her to do. To kick off.

  ‘Colleen love, don’t do this,’ Michael whispered softly beside her, placing his hand on hers, to try and get her to sit down.

  Colleen knew that her father-in-law only ever meant her well. He was the only one in the family that genuinely had her back; the pair of them were the same. The man was just as controlled and browbeaten as she was by the rest of the Byrne crew. They were both outcasts in their own family. Well Colleen wasn’t going to allow her daughter to speak to her this way. Not here, and not today of all days. Shrugging Michael’s hand away, Colleen had had enough.

  ‘I don’t care if they’re all listening. Let them. This is what they are all waiting for anyway, isn’t it? Colleen Byrne to make a show out of herself yet again. Well you can all fuck off! Do you hear me? This is my mother’s wake and I don’t want you here.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Nancy said shortly. Berating her mother, her voice sounded like a bad imitation of her grandma Joanie’s. The girl was just like her.

  ‘You know what, you’re right.’ Colleen laughed. Nodding, she couldn’t agree more. ‘I’ve had ENOUGH of all this bullshit.’ Standing up, wobbly on her feet, Colleen swept the wine glass from the table; happy when it hit the floor and shattered into hundreds of pieces, causing the people standing closest to her to step back. Out of her way.

  Apologising profusely to the guests around her, Nancy grabbed her mother’s arm roughly, guiding her around the glass shards at her feet, making sure that she didn’t cut herself. The last thing she needed was her mother having to be taken to A&E to have her foot stitched up.

  ‘You are a fucking disgrace,’ she spat. Her fingers digging into her mother’s fleshy arm she leaned in close but her voice was loud now, and everyone in the room could hear her. Though Nancy no longer cared about trying not to create a scene; as always, thanks to her mother, the damage was done.

  ‘Oh, I get it!’ Ignoring her daughter’s rant, Colleen caught the smug look of defiance on her mother-in-law’s face as Joanie stared back at her with glee.

  The master puppeteer. She’d orchestrated all of this and Colleen, drunk, had played right in to her hands. Watching the event unfold just as she had known it would. Colleen was as predictable as ever.

  ‘That old witch sent you over, didn’t she? That’s just her style. Getting her granddaughter to do her dirty work and try and show me up. I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you? Fanning the flames and then you just stand back and watch the destruction. All you’ve ever done is turn my kids against me. Well, do you know what Joanie Byrne? Today, of all days, you can go and fuck yourself.’

  Colleen didn’t know what hit her; the stinging blow that Nancy administered came from nowhere.

  Nancy had been down on the floor, on her knees, brushing the glass into a pile. Cleaning up her mother’s mess yet again. Hearing her mother attacking her nan was too much for the girl. Springing to her feet she backhanded her mother in the face.

  ‘Don’t you dare talk to my nan like that ever again, do you hear me?!’

  Colleen fell back against the chair. The slap, though brutal, wasn’t the hurt that she felt. The real wound was from the way Nancy was looking at her, the way the girl always looked at her: with pure venomous hate in her eyes.

  Colleen had always hoped that, one day, she would somehow redeem herself to her daughter, that she could perhaps explain h
ow her life had come to this, how she was broken inside. But she knew now, in this very moment, it would never be. Her daughter was lost to her for ever.

  ‘My nan has done nothing but help you, you ungrateful cow. That’s all she’s ever done. If it wasn’t for her, me and Daniel wouldn’t have had a mother. She stepped in and did your job for you. You should be kissing her arse,’ Nancy continued, seething. Her mother had pushed her too far this time. Making a holy show of their family in front of everyone they knew. Well her mother wasn’t the only one that had had enough. They’d all been making excuses for far too long: allowing her to continue to drink herself into oblivion on a daily basis. Letting her stagger around the house, slurring her speech as she spoke.

  She’d been worse lately. Her father had made allowances for her declining behaviour because of her mother’s passing, but there was more to all of this than just that.

  ‘Well, I’m not having it anymore, Mother! You need to treat our nan with respect.’

  Holding her face, humiliated beyond measure, Colleen’s voice was barely audible.

  ‘You don’t understand, Nancy. None of you understand,’ Colleen said, though the words sounded so pathetic as they tumbled out of her mouth.

  ‘Course we don’t understand! Unlike you, we’re not mental!’ Nancy said through gritted teeth. ‘All my life I’ve put up with you walking around in a drunken haze, so self-medicated that you can barely function. Even now, look at you. At Nan Edel’s funeral. Your mother will be turning in her grave.’

  Nancy’s words hit Colleen in the heart because she knew them to be true. Her mother would be disgusted at her behaviour. At seeing her in this state. Consumed with guilt, she started to cry. This was all such a big mess.

  ‘You haven’t even bothered to ask how Daniel and I are? Do you know that? Our nan has passed away. We miss her too! But then you never once thought about us, did you? So busy in your own little world, there’s only ever been you.’

  ‘That’s enough now, Nancy. Your mother’s not well. She’s grieving. Let her be.’

  She felt her dad step in behind her, his hand on her shoulder pulling her back, trying to stop her from continuing her attack on her mother. But his words only ignited Colleen’s anger once more.

  ‘What’s the matter, Jimmy?’ Colleen said, glad that she was showing the man up in front of all these people – Jimmy’s so-called friends and business associates. ‘This not quite the impression that you wanted to give people. The perfect little family? Only we’re far from that, aren’t we?’

  Locking eyes with her husband, Colleen was tempted to blurt it all out: the reasons why she hated this man so much; the things that he’d done over the years. Trampling on people, murdering people, all for this. This big house, his so-called reputation. All of it had come at the very highest price.

  It was Daniel’s turn to step in. Unable to watch anymore of his mother’s outburst, he knew that he could calm the situation. His mother would listen to him. He was certain of it. He knew how much she so desperately wanted to bond with her son; he’d use it to his advantage.

  ‘Come on, Mum,’ Daniel said softly. ‘Let’s get you out of here, yeah? It’s been a long day. Let’s get you off to bed, yeah?’

  Overcome with emotion that her Daniel was sticking up for her, helping her, Colleen nodded, allowing her son to lead her from the room.

  Colleen continued to hold her face, the heat of the slap still stinging. She needed to get out of here. Away from these people. Away from Jimmy, Nancy, and Joanie.

  She could feel Daniel’s arm around her now. Holding her tightly as he led her up the stairs and into her room. The warmth of him holding her. She’d never experienced that before. Her boy. Her precious boy. Her mind filled with so much regret. How different everything could have been.

  * * *

  Lifting up the blankets, Daniel guided his mother, fully clothed, into her bed. The fumes of the alcohol on her breath potent, as she turned to face him.

  ‘Sit with me for a while?’ Colleen asked, her eyes pleading with her son not to leave her alone just yet.

  Daniel agreed. More for himself than anything. He couldn’t face going back down into that room, to where all those people would be whispering about them. Picking holes in what their father had always made out was such a perfect life. Only it was far from perfect. All this wealth and notoriety and they were just as fucked up as everyone else.

  Sitting with his mother, Daniel listened as Colleen mumbled away to herself. The alcohol had taken its toll now. Half the shit she was coming out with didn’t even make sense.

  * * *

  Colleen finally drifted off to sleep. Daniel tucked the blanket around his mother. Staring down at her as she slept.

  He felt sad then.

  All his life she’d been almost a stranger to him. Nancy was right. It had been their nan who had been more like a mother to them both. Daniel didn’t have one memory of his mother kissing him, or holding him. Not one memory of his mother ever laughing or playing any games with him. All her life, she’d been a shell of a person. There, but not really there at all.

  Remembering the story that his nan had told him about when Nancy was just two years old – how his mother had tried to kill herself as she’d slept beside his sister in the bed; how she’d tried to kill him: the tiny defenceless baby inside her – Daniel now knew why.

  In her drunken state, his mother had just told him everything: about her wedding night, about the young man his father had murdered, about the life of guilt and fear that his mother had been forced to live. She was so out of it, Daniel suspected, tomorrow she wouldn’t even remember telling him. So for now, he decided, he’d keep what she’d told him close to his chest.

  Daniel shook his head sadly before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Maybe Nancy was wrong about their mother after all.

  All this talk about loyalty. By the sounds of it, his mother had been the most loyal of them all, and so far, it had cost her everything.

  Thirty

  Living above a greasy fish and chip shop in King’s Cross hadn’t exactly been Gavin Hurst’s idea of living the dream when he’d finally plucked up the courage to run away from the children’s home in Essex just before his sixteenth birthday, but the irony was that that was exactly what this dingy cockroach-infested shithole of a flat had turned out to be.

  It was his very own little sanctuary. He was king of his own castle now. Away from his childhood abusers who had tormented him throughout his entire time in the care system, it was Gavin who called all the shots these days. If men wanted to use him to satisfy their sexual needs, then so be it; but this time it came at a cost.

  Gavin had learned to put the years of abuse that he’d suffered to good use. Practice makes perfect and all that. Gavin knew exactly what men wanted and he took great delight in charging the fuckers a premium to get it. Long gone was the vulnerable victim, the poor helpless little child that men had wanted to take advantage of. Gavin was the one who did all the advantage taking nowadays. The damage that had been done to him had properly fucked him up in the head. As it would do. The things that he had done and seen, from such a young age, ensured that his mind and morals were royally corrupted.

  Still, he’d learned from the very best. Putting the river of knowledge from every rape, every sexual encounter, every time he’d felt scared or vulnerable into doing what he knew he did best.

  Satisfying men.

  And why not? He knew he was good at it.

  As a child he’d been the vulnerable boy that men had desired, but now he was all man. Strong, muscular, a model type. Only models didn’t earn the sort of money that Gavin earned doing this job.

  As his mobile phone rang and he saw the caller’s ID, Gavin smiled to himself: he had been looking forward to seeing this little liaison all day. For more reasons than one.

  Glancing around the flat as he buzzed the man in, Gavin rolled his eyes. Chiding himself. What the fuck was he doing? This punter wa
sn’t here to inspect his decor. Who cared if the place was a bit untidy? Gavin had put fresh sheets on the bed, and sprayed a bit of his expensive aftershave around the room. That was about as domesticated as he stretched to.

  Giving himself one final once-over in the mirror in the hallway, Gavin liked what he saw. Tanned and good-looking, he prided himself on his appearance. And he worked hard for it. Treating his vocation as if it was his profession of choice, he invested all his time and money on staying ahead of his game. Going to the gym every morning to ensure his body was toned to perfection, rock-hard and muscular, just as most of his clients liked him to be. A real man, like them. Dressed in designer clothing, Gavin could fit right in with the best of them. That only added to his appeal. He could be seen out in public with these men, be it under the pretence of a new work colleague, or friend. He’d even pretended to be a nephew on a few occasions. Whatever role needed to be played Gavin was good for it. So good, in fact, that sometimes he even fooled himself. That’s why he was the best in the business.

  This was all part of his job – what put him ahead of the rest of the opposition in King’s Cross. His adversaries around London came in their hordes, mainly in the form of scrawny-looking rent boys. A lot of them much younger than him, marketing themselves to the men with paedophiliac tendencies, men that liked to fuck vulnerable boys. Vulnerable and desperate, they were often the ones that set themselves up for abuse. Risking their lives getting into strange men’s cars or taken down the back of some dirty alleyway. Competition might be rife around here but it certainly wasn’t fierce. That’s why Gavin had set himself apart. Intent on making some real money for himself so that he could make a proper life away from all of this one day. A life where he could be normal, without having to comply to some perverted man’s every whim.

  Gavin had set himself up as more of a male escort, homing in on attracting some of London’s elite. He’d managed to find himself a job at one of the West End’s most prestigious restaurants. Working most evenings just so that he could meet the extortionate rent on this place, his evening job opened him up to finding his pick of customers too. Real men. Men with power and money and, more importantly, reputation.