by Jacqui Rose
Alfie’s face screwed up, puzzled. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
Urgently, Abel hissed his reply, his eyes manic. ‘I have to keep her safe. Bobby and Salvatore are on their way, I can’t leave her for them to find. Don’t you get it, Alf? They’re her worst nightmare and I have to hide her somewhere safe, somewhere she won’t be scared.’
Thinking Abel couldn’t see her, Lola raised her eyebrows, but he caught a glimpse of her expression in the great dining-room mirror. He spun round, his face taut and tense. Snarling and wide-eyed, he pulled out his knife and pointed it at Lola.
‘Maybe if you’d loved anyone the way I loved Natalia, then you might understand. Although she might not be with me as she was before, she’s still in here …’ He stopped to bang on his heart and his head. Then, suddenly gazing round the room, he heard Natalia calling him.
‘Abel, are you all right, mate? Abel?’ Alfie’s voice cut through the air, bringing Abel back.
‘I’m fine, but I pity her. I pity Lola, that she’s never loved like I have, so save your ridicule, all of you. Even in death, my love for Natalia will be a greater love than you will ever experience.’
Abruptly, Abel left the room and, ashamed, Lola spoke, almost to herself. ‘I never meant to upset him; I’d better go after him. Me and my big bleedin’ mouth, when will I ever learn?’
As Lola hurried after Abel, Alice turned to follow but Alfie called her back. ‘Alice, before you go, I want a quick word.’
Alice hesitated. She hadn’t spoken to Alfie on his own since she’d run off at the quarry.
‘Sit down, Alice, please.’
In silence, Alice did as she was told, pulling out one of the large wooden chairs, her mind on her dad as Alfie talked.
‘I heard what you said – well, we all did – but I just want to make sure you’re all right. I know I can come across as hard-headed, but as Franny and Cabhan ain’t here, I feel … well, it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re all right.’
Alice brushed her corkscrew curls back from her face, feeling guilty and stupid and ashamed at herself for all the trouble she’d caused. ‘What do you mean, Alfie?’
‘That you loved Nico. You told me you loved him,’ Alfie said, feeling just as uncomfortable as Alice appeared to be.
Embarrassed, Alice nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And do you still love him?’ Alfie cleared his throat. ‘Because you see, Alice, even though they might’ve done bad things, I get it that it’s not always easy to turn off our feelings for who we love, no matter how hard we try. Sometimes we end up loving people we shouldn’t. Loving someone, as much as it can make us feel alive, can destroy us as well, it can be fatal. Look at Abel, darlin’, look what love has done to him. I just don’t want you to end up hurt.’
‘I’m okay,’ Alice answered, pushing away her sense of shame.
‘Are you sure? Because—’
‘I said, I’m okay. You don’t have to worry, Alfie. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and I don’t want to add to that.’
Alfie paused, then awkwardly asked, ‘Nico, well, did he ask you to send him any pictures … you know … pictures that you wouldn’t want anyone to see apart from someone close, someone intimate?’
Alice stood up, her face crossed with anger. ‘No, it wasn’t like that! And I know Nico has done all these terrible things, so I’m not defending him, but … but at the time it felt special, pure. And I know now that wasn’t real, but just for a moment, a tiny moment, I thought someone actually understood me – apart from my friend, Isaiah, and he’s not in my life now – so Nico seemed like he was the only person around who understood me, because you clearly don’t. And not having that understanding anymore, well, that’s the part that really hurts. That’s the part I really miss. But the worst thing is, the worst part of it all, is I know it was me.’
‘Know what was you?’
‘I know that it was me who killed Sister Margaret and all of my friends.’
Alfie looked shocked. ‘No, Alice, of course it wasn’t, what are you talking about? Why are you saying that, baby?’
Alice’s voice soared to a scream, the pain she’d held rushing out of her. ‘I was the one who told Nico where I was. Me! It wasn’t anything to do with Dad, so no matter how much I try to blame him, and blame you, and everyone else, I can’t. I killed them, and I don’t know how to deal with that, I don’t know what to do.’
‘Alice—’
‘Don’t say “Alice” like that! Don’t try to make it better, because you can’t,’ Alice shouted, her words tumbling out in a mixture of anger and hurt. ‘You never will do. They’re dead. They’re all dead. It’s like I can see the blood on my hands and I can’t wash it off. It feels like it was me who pulled the trigger – I might as well have done! And I understand how Abel feels, I understand how the guilt could make you go mad. But I don’t want to go mad, Alfie. I just want to make it better and I can’t. If I could swap places with them I would, I’d do anything to make it all go away.’
Alfie reached out to hold her, but she pulled away. ‘Please, Alice, I hate to see you like this.’
Pulling herself together, Alice wiped away her tears. ‘Don’t be nice to me, Alfie, I don’t deserve it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go and get ready to leave.’
Alfie watched Alice march out, leaving him in the silence of the cold, stark, vast room. He rubbed his temples, feeling the pressure building up and a sudden sense of loneliness.
Looking out of the window at nothing but the moon, Alfie let out a long, deep sigh before glancing at his phone. Impulsively he picked it up, checking quickly that no one was coming, before pressing redial. He waited for it to ring.
‘Hello?’
Alfie didn’t recognise the voice, but he replied with hostility. ‘I want to speak to Salvatore. Put him on.’
‘He’s not here.’
‘Then you call him, and you tell him it’s Alfie. It’s Alfie and I want to speak to Franny. I need to speak to her. Tell him I know the deal and then you need to call me back on this number. Tell him I’m waiting.’
Ten minutes passed and Alfie still waited as Lola and Alice sat in the car. He paced the room and was just about to give up when the phone rang. He scrambled to pick it up. ‘Hello?’
It was the same voice from before. ‘Salvatore says okay. He also says, Sei pazzo. You’re crazy … You’ve got five minutes …’
Then Alfie heard the voice he was desperate to hear. ‘Hello? Alfie?’
‘Franny, are you all right? Shit, that’s a stupid question. What I mean is …’
Franny Doyle sat in the darkness of the warehouse, refusing to acknowledge the tears that threatened to fall as she listened to Alfie, her throat sore and her body aching from being huddled in the cage, as well as from the beating she had taken from Bobby. ‘It’s good to hear your voice.’
‘Listen, Franny, I’ll get you out of there, you understand me, I’ll get you out of there. Somehow.’
Franny’s voice was flat, ‘Yeah, somehow.’
‘Franny, please don’t give up on me. I love you, I always have, but I haven’t always been good at saying it.’ He stopped, having to rub his face, feeling like he was trying to scrub away the tension. ‘And Bree, how’s she?’
‘She’s here, next to me.’
Alfie, acutely aware that Franny hadn’t said Bree was fine, squeezed his eyes shut. ‘It’s always been you, you know that, Fran.’
‘Alfie—’
With his voice breaking, Alfie interrupted. ‘No, you got to listen, I want you to hear this; I fucked up. This mess, I let you down.’
‘This wasn’t to do with you, it was me, me and Cabhan, and that’s why … that’s why I’m okay with the decision you need to make. Alfie, it has to be Bree.’
Alfie slumped down on one of the chairs, his body shaking with fear, the kind of fear he’d never experienced in his life. ‘I can’t live without you, Fran. I can’t. Look, I’m going to find a way out.’
> ‘Alfie, listen to me, there is no way, you know that as well as I do. You know it will soon be the end and there’s nothing you can do. You have to try to accept that. If there’s anything, any last thing you can do for me, that’s what it is. Accept this.’
Angrily, Alfie shouted down the phone. ‘What’s wrong with you, why are you saying this? Why are you giving up like this? You’ve always been the fucking same – so calm and so controlled. Well, I don’t want you to be, because I ain’t coping, and the fact is I need you and I want you to show me that I ain’t the only one who’s falling apart.’
Sitting near a pool of her own urine, as Salvatore had refused to let them go to the bathroom, Franny pushed down her despair. She looked around, speaking in a whisper so as not to wake Bree, who was ill and sleeping fitfully next to her. ‘Alfie, I’m being realistic. You know it’s the truth and the truth is all I have left.’
Alfie cried out passionately, ‘But it ain’t all you’ve got left, cos you’ve got me, darlin’. You’ve got me. Always and forever and don’t you forget that.’
‘I love you, Alfie, I do, and I know you love me too, but even your love won’t be strong enough to work this one out.’
‘Franny—’
The line went dead.
‘Franny! Franny!’
The door suddenly opened and Lola, looking tired and worried, stood in the doorway.
‘Alfie, what’s going on?’
Wiping away his tears, Alfie kept his back to Lola. ‘Nothing.’
‘Who were you talking to? Was that Franny? Alfie, was that Franny?’
Alfie swivelled round, glared at Lola and stomped past her. ‘How the fuck could it be Franny if she’s locked up God knows where? So do me a favour, Lola, and just keep your nose out of me friggin’ business.’
At the old mill down by the tiny village, Abel climbed into the car, his clothes muddy. He nodded to Alfie, who asked, ‘All done?’
‘Yeah, Alf, all done. Where are we going?’
In the rear-view mirror, Alfie looked at Lola and then at Alice before quietly saying, ‘To Soho. We’re going to go to Soho.’
40
‘Help me, she’s being sick, help me!’ Franny yelled as she rattled on the cage. She turned to Bree, who lay on the hard concrete floor, pale and dehydrated, vomiting up green bile as her body went into spasms. ‘Somebody help! Come on!’
Stopping shouting for a moment to turn her attention back to Bree, Franny stroked her forehead, feeling how cold and sweaty it was. ‘It’s okay, Bree. I’m here, it’ll be all right.’
Bree’s eyes fluttered open to look at Franny, her expression pained as she held her stomach.
‘Fran, it hurts, it hurts so badly.’
‘I know, honey, just try to keep calm, it won’t do you any good if you get stressed, just try to breathe deeply … Hello! Help! Hello, we need some help here!’ Franny shouted again, shaking the cage harder as she tried to keep her own emotions in check.
The door of the warehouse slid open, allowing bright sunlight to rush in.
Gian Colombo, one of the three men who’d escorted the Russos to England, stood in the doorway, cigar in mouth and gun in hand.
Taking a deep lug of the large cigar, Gian casually sniffed before he spoke. ‘What’s all the noise for?’
‘We need some help, there’s something wrong … She’s pregnant, please, you’ve got to do something.’
Gian, tall and muscular, strolled towards the cage and stared at Bree convulsing on the floor. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, honey, I don’t have to do jack shit,’ he said in his thick New Jersey accent.
‘She’s ill! Can’t you see?’
‘Not my problem.’
Franny gripped hold of the bars whilst she spoke to Gian, trying to keep her temper under control. ‘Don’t you understand what I’m saying? She’s pregnant and she needs help. Now!’
Sneering, Gian smashed the butt of his gun onto Franny’s fingers. She screamed, reeling backwards in agony, falling on her side as she clutched her hands under her arms to try to stem the pain. Laughing to himself, Gian turned to leave.
‘Wait, please, wait. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Franny crawled up onto her knees, the skin of her fingers ripped and ragged. ‘At least bring her some water, she needs to keep hydrated.’
‘Honey, look around you, look where you are. It won’t make a damn bit of difference what happens to your friend because your time is running out already, sweetheart.’
As Gian turned his back on Franny, she panicked and shouted after him, ‘And what will Salvatore say if you let her get ill? What if something happens to her, how will he play his games then? Are you sure you want to be responsible for letting something happen to her? Think about it, I know Salvatore and I’ve known him for a long time and he doesn’t care if you’re his enemy, part of his firm or his closest friend. If you mess up, he’ll get rid of you like you’re nothing. And you know what I’m saying is true.’
Gian stopped, mulling over Franny’s words. He nodded thoughtfully then pulled out his phone and dialled Salvatore as Franny watched intently.
He shrugged. ‘No answer.’
Frantically, Franny yelled, ‘Then you have to do something. You do something! Otherwise you’ll be explaining to Salvatore why you let her become ill.’
Gian glanced at Bree, who moaned in pain quietly. He looked back at Franny then matter-of-factly said, ‘Tell me what you need.’
Leaning her head on the bars in relief, her face covered with grime and twisted in pain, Franny whispered, ‘Water and something to eat for her. Bring some towels, clothes, anything you have, and if you’ve got a blanket or something that can keep her warm, bring that as well.’
Without saying another word, Gian nodded, walking out, leaving a trail of cigar smoke in his wake.
With Gian out of sight, Franny, her fingers still throbbing, crawled over to Bree. ‘Hey, Bree, help’s coming, so hang in there, okay? We’ll get you sorted.’
It seemed as if Gian was taking an eternity to come back as Franny watched Bree, her head in Franny’s lap, breathing with difficulty and in considerable pain.
Eventually, the warehouse door slid open and Gian, arms full, walked towards the cage.
‘Where’ve you been?’
Gian stared at Franny scornfully. ‘Don’t push it, baby, because Salvatore or not, I can walk the hell out of here and take these things with me, understand?’
Not wanting to ignite him and risk him carrying out his threat, Franny nodded whilst Gian began to unlock the top of the cage. He stopped suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Franny. ‘Now don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?’
‘I hear you, but please hurry up.’
The cage top unlocked easily and Gian dropped a blanket and some biscuits, along with a couple of items of clothing, inside.
‘What about the water? She needs water.’
Gian shrugged begrudgingly. ‘Fine, I’ll get it.’
He walked out, muttering under his breath as suddenly Franny froze in stark realisation. Gian had left the cage top unlocked. She glanced at the doorway and then back at Bree, and shook her awake.
‘Bree, come on! Come on, we’ve got to go. Bree, please, come on.’
Bree opened her eyes and stared at Franny, her lips dry and dehydrated. ‘What?’
‘Come on, we haven’t got long. It’s our chance, but we have to go now!’
With tears in her eyes, Bree nodded whilst Franny tried to pull her up, but the pain in Bree’s stomach was overwhelming. She cried out, gripping onto Franny’s arm. ‘I can’t, Franny, it hurts too much. I can’t move.’
‘Yes, you can, you hear me? Now just take my arm so we can get out of here.’
Attempting a smile, Bree nodded once more but, yet again, as she tried to move, the pain ripped through her. Gasping, she began to cry. ‘I can’t, I can’t do it. But you can. Franny, you need to go.’
Shocked, Franny shook her head. ‘No, I can’t le
ave you here, Bree. I just can’t. Please just try again.’
‘Franny, listen to me You’re not going to get another chance. I want you to take it, go. There’s no point in us both being here. Please do this for me. Think of Alfie. Like I said, he needs you … And there’s my daughter, Molly, she needs you to look after her, too. Will you do that? Franny, will you do that for me?’ Bree leant forward, gritting her teeth as her stomach cramped.
‘Yes, but I just can’t leave you here, I—’
‘Just do it! Do it!’
Franny glanced at the warehouse door again, joining Bree in her tears. ‘Bree, I—’
‘Do it!’
‘But—’
‘I’m begging you. Please, just go.’
Fear for Bree rushed through her. ‘Okay … okay, but I’ll bring help, I’ll go and get help. I promise. I promise.’
Then Franny bent forward and kissed Bree on her head before quickly jumping out of the cage and running from the warehouse into the bright sunlight. She ran along the path, panting and looking over her shoulder, and scrambled up the hill, seeing nothing but countryside.
Running ever faster along the road, Franny crossed over to a grass verge and up to a gravelled track. She glanced around, not knowing where she was and not knowing how far it would be until she could get help. Then quickly checking behind her, she sprinted over to a dense thicket and scrambled through bushes, making sure she was out of sight of anyone coming along the road.
Flinching at a thorn bush scratching mercilessly at her skin, Franny, dripping with sweat, rested against a large oak tree. Sighing, she glanced up at the blue sky, feeling the sunlight and the warm breeze on her face. The warehouse had been dark, cold and wet, the floor hard and grimy. She shivered at the thought of it, absentmindedly rubbing her leg where Bobby had brutally kicked her. But now, thank God, she was out of there; though Bree, of course, wasn’t, and she had no doubt that Gian would be incensed, not only at her escape, but also at the impending wrath of Salvatore and Bobby, not to mention Nico.
Knowing the Russos like she did, she wouldn’t be surprised if Nico gave orders for Bobby to dispose of Gian permanently, and she for one wouldn’t be weeping at his demise. But what did worry her, the ever-nagging fear in the back of her mind, was what Bree would have to go through before Nico gave Bobby the order.