by Michael Wood
Jenny entered the kitchen, closing the door behind her. She went to the fridge and brought out a bottle of wine.
‘Would you like a glass?’ she asked her sister, who was sitting on the leather sofa in the corner of the room.
‘I’d like the whole bottle,’ she said.
Jenny brought the bottle and two glasses over to the sofa and sat down next to her sister.
The kitchen was a recent add-on to the house. It was less than two years since the extension was built to provide them with a larger kitchen, utility room and conservatory. This had been Alice’s dream kitchen with large bi-folding doors to open in the summer so they could have their meals at the table yet feel like they were outside. Unfortunately, this was Sheffield. There weren’t many days when the weather was good enough for al fresco dining.
‘Thanks for tidying the house up.’
‘No problem. Are you OK?’
‘No. I don’t think I’ll ever be OK again.’
‘Have you told Warren and Milly about their dad yet?’
‘No. I’ve no idea what I’m going to say. Every time I try I just dry up.’
‘Would you like me to be there with you when you do?’
Alice turned to her sister and gave her a smile. ‘I’d love that, thank you.’
‘What are you going to do about this guy who wants ten thousand pounds by the end of today?’
Alice sighed. ‘I haven’t got a clue. I’ve no idea why he thinks he’s owed this money. Why now? Kevin is murdered and then this guy shows up begging for money from us. I don’t understand it at all.’
‘I was thinking about Lucas earlier while I was tidying up. He knows some pretty dodgy people. Maybe he’s got himself tangled up in something he can’t get out of. Neither of us have seen him in ages; we don’t know what he’s up to.’
‘Maybe we should call him.’
‘I tried. I’ve called his flat and either he’s had the phone cut off or taken out but the number wouldn’t connect. I called the garage where he worked and his boss had a go at me; said he’d like to know where the bloody hell he is too. Then I called The Red Lion. I know someone who works behind the bar. She said Lucas hasn’t been in for weeks.’
‘It sounds like he’s in hiding or something.’
‘But from who? Or what? Alice, we could be talking gangsters here.’
‘Oh come off it, Jenny. You’ve been watching too much Peaky Blinders.’
‘I’m serious, Alice. You think this ten grand business is down to Kevin, maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s all to do with Lucas.’
Alice’s face was drawn. If she was on her own, she’d put up with anything from Kevin and Lucas, fight to the death if she had to, but she had two children to worry about. She couldn’t allow them to be caught up in all this.
‘I heard from Phil today,’ Jenny said, sensing her sister would appreciate a change in topic. ‘He phoned me while you were out. He wants to come back.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told him to piss off. We can’t live together. He winds me up and I wind him up and we end up fighting. I told him it’s time to move on.’
‘What did he say to that?’
‘There wasn’t much he could say. I’m not having him back. End of story.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Alice, would you like me to stay here with you for a few days, help with the kids and things around the house?’
‘You don’t need to do that. You’ve got your own life.’
‘My life sucks. And the plumbing’s on the blink again.’
Alice laughed. ‘I thought there’d be a catch in it somewhere. Of course you can stay.’
Jenny topped up her glass and took a long swig. They allowed the silence to envelope them.
‘Jenny, you know that nice policeman, DC Glass?’
‘The tall one with the designer stubble?’
‘Yes. Lucas assaulted him. He’s in a coma.’
‘Shit, Alice. Why didn’t you say?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t get my head around any of this.’
‘They’ll definitely get him now. The police won’t rest until he’s locked up. You know what they’re like when anything happens to one of their own.’
‘I know. They want him for these burglaries that are going on too. I didn’t know what to tell them. He’s our brother but I hardly see him, except when he wants something. When was the last time you actually saw him?’
Jenny blew out her cheeks. ‘Blimey, let me think. A good couple of months back. Yes, I was in Bungalows and Bears with Josie. You know, her whose mother faked that fall on the tram to get compensation? Anyway, we were having a few drinks and Lucas walked in with a few of his mates from work. He’s put on some weight since I saw him last. He said hello, asked me to lend him twenty quid and tried to chat up Josie.’
‘He’s not changed then?’
‘He’ll never change. He’ll be back in prison again before too long now.’
Alice slapped her hands down on her lap. ‘You know what, sod all this. Sod Lucas and Kevin and Phil and men full stop. We’ll tackle anything that comes along and move on. Now, do you fancy something to eat? I’m feeling peckish.’
‘I could do with something, yes. What do you fancy?’
‘Shall I just put some chips in the oven and we can make a couple of butties?’
Jenny licked her lips. ‘I like the sound of that. Plenty of salt and vinegar too.’
They both hoisted themselves up out of the comfortable sofa and went about making their food. Alice turned on the oven to heat up while Jenny went to the freezer for the oven chips. When Alice turned around she let out a scream that she quickly stifled by slapping a hand to her mouth.
‘What’s up?’ Jenny asked. ‘You almost made me pi—’ She followed her sister’s eyeline and looked out of the large windows, stopping in her tracks when she saw what had frightened Alice.
Standing in front of the window was a man dressed from head to toe in black. His beanie hat came down to his eyebrows and he had a toughened plastic mask over his mouth. He stood there glaring at them through the glass.
‘Who is it?’ Jenny eventually asked in a whisper.
‘I think it’s the bloke who came the other night.’
‘Oh shit, Alice. What are we going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is the door locked?’
‘I think so.’
‘Right. He can’t get in then. I think we should run, get the kids, go upstairs, lock ourselves in the en suite and call the police.’
Jenny edged towards the door while Alice remained rooted to the spot. Her gaze fixed on the huge statue of a man standing at the glass doors.
Jenny was visibly shaking. ‘Alice, what are you waiting for?’
From behind him, the intruder produced a gun, which he used to knock loudly on the glass with.
Jenny cried out and dropped the bag of chips she had been gripping. She ran over to Alice and hid behind her.
The intruder banged harder on the glass with the gun and the whole pane shook. Any harder and it would break.
‘I’m going to have to let him in,’ Alice said.
‘No, Alice, don’t. Please.’
‘He could break the glass.’
‘Your kids are in the living room. What if he hurts them?’
‘Shit,’ she said under her breath. Slowly, Alice held out her hands to show the masked man she wasn’t armed, and made her way over to the doors. ‘What do you want?’ She tried to sound confident and in control but the worry in her voice was evident.
‘I want to come in.’
‘I’m not opening these doors.’
‘I will shoot if I have to.’
Alice smirked. ‘The neighbours will hear and call the police. You won’t be in here long before they arrive.’
‘I’ll be in there long enough to cut your daughter open.’
Alice recoiled in horror and Jenny burst into tears.
‘You let me in now and we have a chat, just the three of us. If I have to smash my way in, then I’m going to beat you both senseless and make you watch while I slice into your kids. Do you understand?’
Alice turned to look at her sister. Jenny had both hands clasped over her mouth. The tears flowing down her face and she was shaking her head, begging, pleading with Alice not to let him in.
‘I have to,’ Alice said. She took the key from her back pocket and inserted it into the lock. ‘Promise me you won’t hurt my children.’
‘I have no interest in hurting you or your kids. That’s not why I’m here.’
She closed her eyes and turned the key in the lock. The sound it made echoed around the kitchen.
The man quickly entered, closed the door behind him and locked it, removing the key and placing it in his own pocket.
‘Go and sit down on the sofa. Now. Both of you.’
Jenny couldn’t move. Alice had to practically drag her to the sofa. They sat down and held each other firmly for support.
The masked man looked around the kitchen. He ran his fingers along the oak wooden surfaces, opened cupboard doors and looked inside. He walked over to the sofa, dragging a stool with him which he straddled.
‘Now then, where’s my money?’ His voice was muffled behind the mask.
‘Look, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, honestly I don’t. I don’t owe anyone any money and I’ve looked through my husband’s things and I can’t find anything about him owing anyone money.’
‘This has nothing to do with your husband. It’s to do with you and your bastard of a brother.’
‘Lucas? I’ve not seen him for ages. He only comes here when he wants something. He’s living above a shop in Wincobank, the last I heard.’
‘I know. I’ve been there and there was nobody in. I broke the door down, had a look round, and nothing. He hasn’t got anything worth nicking. So I torched the place.’
‘Oh my God,’ Jenny wailed.
‘You must be the other sister,’ the masked man said. He turned to her and with a leather-gloved hand he wrenched her hands away from her face. ‘Look at me. Come on, look up. Let me see you.’
Slowly, Jenny lifted her head. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She tried not to make eye contact with him, just a couple of quick glances before turning away.
‘That’s better. You’re not as good-looking as your sister but I still wouldn’t say no.’ He leaned in close, his face mere centimetres from hers. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek. ‘We could have fun together, you and me. I could make you forget that wanker of a husband of yours.’ Jenny’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Oh yes, I know all about you and Phil. You don’t need him: he’s a tosser. You need a real man to show you a good time.’
‘Leave me alone,’ she cried.
‘It’s up to you bitch. I either fuck you with this,’ he grabbed his crotch. ‘Or I fuck you with this,’ he pressed the gun hard between Jenny’s legs. She almost collapsed. She wanted to scream out loud for anyone to hear but the thought of Alice’s children in the living room watching television stopped her.
Alice slapped the intruder on the shoulder. ‘You promised you wouldn’t hurt us. Leave her alone.’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just having a bit of fun. Now, here’s my final warning, Alice. Next time I come I won’t knock on the door, I won’t wait for you to unlock it, I’ll just come bursting in and I’ll take whatever I can and do whatever damage I can and that includes to your fucking kids. Do you understand me?’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Alice cried. She didn’t care what happened to her. It was her children she worried about.
‘You’ve got until the end of the month, that’s less than a week away, to find your brother and put your heads together and get me the fifteen grand you now both owe me. Capisce?’
Alice nodded. She couldn’t think of anything else to say to him. As far as she was concerned she didn’t owe him, or anyone else any money. She just wanted him out of her house and away from her children.
‘Good girl. I’ll be seeing you.’
He glared at them both until he’d had his fun and then left. He unlocked the back door, went out into the garden and locked the door, taking the key with him. He now had a way in whenever he wanted it.
Alice and Jenny collapsed into each other’s arms, both of them crying uncontrollably.
THIRTY-FIVE
Matilda wasn’t concentrating on the traffic ahead. It was moving slowly at a steady twenty-five miles per hour. She kept a good distance between her own silver Ford Focus and whatever was in front. Leaning back in the driver’s seat she had one hand on the steering wheel and the other propping up her head, leaning against the door. Her eyes were forever darting between one wing mirror and the other and the rear-view mirror, searching for any sign of a dark-coloured BMW.
Since leaving Martin Craven’s home on Williamson Road she kept thinking of her marriage with James. Would she have been able to forgive him for having an affair? Maybe he had had one and Matilda hadn’t known about it. No. She shook her head hard, almost veering the car off the road. Don’t think like that.
She turned into Millhouses Lane and parked neatly in the driveway. She should put the car in the garage, but she didn’t like the door closing behind her and plunging her into darkness, especially recently with the anonymous note and phone calls.
Matilda unlocked the front door and walked in. The alarm sounded and she turned it off. The number was the same as her wedding anniversary. She should consider changing it if she was ever going to move on from thinking of James, but wouldn’t it feel like trying to forget him?
Her stomach rumbled and she tried to remember the last time she had had something to eat, probably breakfast. She should cook something, even if it was just beans on toast or an omelette, but she wasn’t in the mood; cooking for one seemed more like a chore than a necessity.
Matilda kicked her shoes off and walked into the living room, flicking on the light. She was presented with the boxes of books left to her by Jonathan Harkness. Why had he done that? What was she going to do with thousands of hardback and paperback novels? She was surrounded by crime during her working life, why would she want to read about it in the evening?
The living room was a place where she would sit in the evenings, curled up on the sofa, and go through the pages of her wedding album while reminiscing and crying. She’d talk to her husband pictured in the silver frame on top of the mantelpiece and fall asleep on the sofa with him in her arms. With the boxes taking up all of the floor space, and on a few of the armchairs too, how could she be comfortable? It would be like sitting in a warehouse.
She went to the nearest one and picked up the first paperback she could get her hands on – Eeny Meeny by M. J. Arlidge. She smiled at the title. Flicking through the book she noticed the chapters were short, a fast-paced read. Turning back to the beginning she started reading. The protagonist, Helen Grace, was a Detective Inspector with as much on her mind as Matilda, though her way of relieving stress was a little more risqué than reciting British Prime Ministers.
Matilda closed the book. For a brief second she wondered if there were any dominators in Sheffield. Of course there would be. No. That was not going to happen. She threw the book back in the box and left the room. She would continue to read it, however, at some point.
She closed the door on the living room and went into the kitchen. She couldn’t tackle Jonathan’s obsessive collection on an empty stomach. It was a shame she’d promised Adele she wouldn’t drink alone; she could have done with a large glass of vodka poured straight from the freezer.
In the fridge was the remainder of the Carbonnade a la Flamande. Matilda rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to eat another portion of it but hated to waste perfectly good food. She threw it in the microwave and went to make herself a black coffee.
The phone rang making her jump. She hoped this wou
ldn’t be another abusive call. She would almost rather it be Rory telling her a body had been found.
‘Hello,’ she answered. Her tone was uneasy.
There was no reply. She waited for a few long seconds and swore she could hear the distinctive sound of breathing.
‘Hello,’ she said again, louder this time. ‘Is there anyone there?’
‘Carl Meagan, Joseph Glass, Scott Andrews. They’re dropping like flies around you aren’t they?’
‘What? Who is this?’
‘People don’t seem to stay alive long around you do they? Does that remind you of anyone?’
She listened intently. She couldn’t make out the voice. It sounded muffled as if the caller was speaking through a mask or handkerchief. ‘No. Should it?’
‘Jonathan Harkness said the same thing. People who tried to get close to him ended up dead, one way or another. The same thing is happening to you isn’t it? Even James only lasted seven years.’
Matilda gripped the phone tight at the mention of her husband’s name. ‘Who the hell are you? You know absolutely nothing. You’re just a sad, sick—’
‘No. You’re wrong. I know everything about you, Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke. You’re dangerous. How many more people are going to have unfortunate accidents or die because of your incompetence?’
The caller hung up.
Matilda was left shaking. She dropped the phone and held on to the kitchen worktop to steady herself. She wanted to collapse. She wanted to throw up but she had nothing in her stomach to bring up.
The microwave pinged to signal her dinner was ready. She pulled open the door, grabbed the hot plate and threw the whole lot to the other side of the room releasing a loud scream of anger. The plate shattered against the back wall splattering beef stew on the ceiling, floor, and walls.
Matilda stumbled from the kitchen and into the living room. She wanted to hold her husband. Even though it was just a photograph, looking into those smiling icy blue eyes made things marginally better. As she opened the door she ran into the boxes.