The Jump

by Martina Cole

  Alan felt a rush of rage again and swallowed it down like bile.

  ‘Your old man is no different to me, love, and don’t you forget it.’

  Donna smiled, her face rosy once more, complexion bright. She looked stunning in the morning light.

  ‘But I don’t love you, Mr Cox, and I happen to love my husband very much. No matter what he’s done. Now, are we going to Glasgow or are we staying here all day?’

  Alan put the car in gear, aware that his hands were shaking. He felt an urge to put them round Donna Brunos’s throat and choke the living daylights out of her.

  That was how she affected him. When he wasn’t yearning to kiss her, he wanted to kill her.

  As they pulled away he sighed heavily. What a situation, and he was lumbered with her for a long time to come. He didn’t know if the prospect pleased or appalled him.

  All he knew for sure was that her legs, sheathed in black stockings, were drawing him like a magnet; and her face, with its expertly applied make-up, was also drawing him to her; and her feisty personality was the icing on the cake. The more she fought back, the more he wanted her. The more she annoyed him, the more he wanted her.

  That was the trouble: he wanted her so badly he could almost taste her. Could smell her scent close to him, and couldn’t stand it for much longer.

  She was Georgio’s wife, a bit of class.

  And he wanted her.

  Lewis came around in the Intensive Care Unit. He opened his eyes to the bright lights and squinted, listening for any sounds he recognised. All he could hear was the bleep-bleep of the monitor by his bed. Opening his eyes fully, he observed a policeman sitting by the bed reading the Daily Mirror. His throat was dry, his eyes gritty with sleep. He could smell the peculiar odour of anaesthetic.

  Then it all came back to him. He felt the searing pain as the blade entered his back. He tried to move in the bed, feeling renewed pain as he did so.

  He smiled.

  He was alive then.

  The policeman glanced at him and saw he was awake.

  ‘Mr Lewis, are you feeling all right? I’ll get you a nurse.’

  The man had a gentle Yorkshire accent. As Lewis opened his mouth to answer him, nothing came out except a small croak. He needed a drink of water, his teeth cleaned, and to know what was going on, in that order. The policeman walked up the ward while Lewis moved first his hands and then his feet.

  He wasn’t crippled.

  The thought was like a balm to him. He knew his back had taken a good slice; if the knife had been slipped into his spine he would have been well and truly finished.

  In his mind’s eye he saw Timmy, his face turned into a mask of grief, and Lewis smiled again.

  Timmy would pay, and pay dearly, for his little temper tantrum. It would keep Lewis going. While he recovered he would set his mind to thinking up something elaborate for Timmy.

  Lewis was renowned for paying his debts.

  This one would be repaid one hundredfold.

  Glasgow was a shock to Donna. The beautiful buildings were not at all as she had pictured them. When they came towards Govan Southside, though, her preconceptions were confirmed. The shops had thick, security wiring over the glass and the streets seemed to be full of women with pushchairs, men wandering aimlessly, and stray dogs. Alan had only spoken to her perfunctorily since their argument. It was now early afternoon and she wanted a drink, something to eat and a pee in that order.

  They drove into a maze of low-rise flats, some with boarded-up windows, others with bright net curtains. Children played everywhere, their aggressive mien noticeable even from a passing car. Donna felt tension in the air.

  ‘Where are we?’

  Alan smiled grimly. ‘This is a place called Govan.’

  Donna faced him. ‘What does that word mean?’

  Alan parked in front of a squalid block of flats and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s probably a Gaelic word for “arsehole of the world”. Come on, get everything out of the car. We ain’t leaving nothing. They’d smash your windscreen here for a packet of fags left on the dashboard.’

  Donna emerged from the car, looking around her helplessly. This wasn’t what she had expected. After Jamesie’s grand house she thought everywhere else would be the same. What on earth could they be doing here?

  As they walked into the small block of flats they were nearly knocked flying by three teenage girls who ran through the lobby doors, laughing wildly.

  The tallest of the girls said something unintelligible to Donna and the other two sniggered. Donna felt her face burning. Whatever the girl had said had been accompanied by a sneer as she looked Donna up and down like so much dirt.

  Alan held the door open for her and she walked into the foetid warmth of the block. There were two doors on the first floor. Each had a black binbag outside, overflowing with rubbish. The tiled flooring was filthy; the stench of decay filled their nostrils. Propped against a wall was a child’s cycle and a large bag of cement. The bag was broken open and cement was strewn all around the floor. It had obviously been there for months. Alan knocked on a battered green-painted door and waited patiently. No one answered. He banged on the door again, harder this time. Donna could hear voices coming from the flat. Loud raised voices, one of them a woman’s.

  The door was thrown open by a child of about nine. The boy had short cropped hair, a striped jersey, dirty jeans and a pair of Fila bumpers.

  ‘What?’ The child’s voice was harsh.

  ‘Is your dad in?’

  He wiped his hand across his nose and looked Donna up and down before answering.

  ‘Who wants to know?’

  Alan knelt down until he was the same height as the boy.

  ‘Listen, little hard man, is your fucking dad in or not? If he is, tell him Alan Cox is here. If he ain’t, give me the name of the pub he’s in and I might, just might, give you a couple of quid.’

  The child stared into Alan’s face, debating whether to tell him anything or to keep his peace. He was saved from answering by the appearance of a small bull-necked man with the biggest beer belly Donna had ever seen in her life.

  ‘Hello, Alan, me old mate. Long time no see.’

  His cockney accent was like balm to Donna after listening to the thick Glaswegian tones of everyone else. The child moved silently aside to let them pass.

  ‘Annie! Get the kettle on, girl, we’ve got visitors.’ He turned to Alan, grinning cheerfully. ‘You’ll have to take us as you find us. You know my Annie. She never was a one for clearing up.’

  Alan laughed. Then a good-looking blonde woman of about thirty-five walked into the hallway. Her hair was immaculately brushed, her clothes cheap but well-pressed. She had on impossibly high heels, and Donna was amazed to see that under her leggings and the big shirt, the woman was heavily pregnant.

  ‘Hello, Alan.’ Her voice was pure Scots. She smiled at him seductively, even in her advanced state of pregnancy.

  Donna was ignored, and knew instinctively that she would always be ignored by this woman while there were men about. All Annie offered her was a perfunctory glance.

  ‘I’ll make the tea.’

  Her voice didn’t have the harsh tones of most of the Scottish people Donna had encountered, but was soft and musical.

  Donna walked after the men into the small front room and was shown to a seat on a surprisingly good leather sofa.

  The front room was Annie’s pride and joy. It was filled to capacity with what she termed ‘good stuff ’. There was a thirty-two-inch TV and state-of-the-art video, the leather suite was black, the walls painted white and hung with pen and ink drawings depicting different scenes from the Clyde. A thick Axminster carpet covered the floor, and the fireplace was Adam style with a black marble hearth. Tables abounded, and a large black ash wall unit dominated the back of the room, covered in all sorts of blue-painted plates, jugs and glassware. Donna secretly abhorred the style but was admiring of the fact that it
had been done at all. After seeing the outside of the flats and the hallway, she was pleasantly surprised to find herself in relative comfort.

  Alan and the man settled themselves. A small child crawled into the room and Donna was amazed to see Alan pick it up expertly and cuddle it.

  ‘She’s got big, Jonnie. How old is she now?’

  He shrugged. ‘Nearly a year. She still ain’t attempted to walk. Justin and Wayne were both early walkers but she’s a lazy cow.’ He pushed his face close to his daughter’s and the child grabbed at his nose, laughing. ‘Aren’t you, my little darling? Who’s Daddy’s best girl then, eh?’

  The child crowed with joy and Donna felt herself relax. If children were in the house then at least this wasn’t going to be dangerous. She felt hypocritical to have judged this man by his home after spending the previous night in the palatial residence of an arms dealer.

  ‘This is Jonnie H. Jonnie, this is Donna Brunos, Georgio’s wife.’

  As he spoke Annie walked into the room with a tray of tea. She looked at Donna with new respect.

  ‘You’re Georgio’s wife? Well, well, well. I always thought him having a wife was just a vicious rumour. So you actually exist? Wonders will never cease.’

  She scrutinised Donna then, as if seeing her for the first time, taking in the black suede shoes, matching handbag and expensive silk suit. She registered the sheer black stockings, the thick chestnut hair and dark blue eyes - and decided she didn’t like Donna Brunos one bit.

  She passed her a chipped mug full of weak tea, the mug she had been going to have herself. Donna nodded her thanks and Annie ignored her once more.

  ‘So what brings you to this neck of the woods?’ The musical voice was turned on Alan.

  ‘I came to see your old man, Annie. I have a bit of a tickle for him.’

  She smiled, showing even white teeth. ‘As long as it’s not a robbery, Alan. I’m nearly due and all I want is to get this bairn born with Jonnie beside me as usual.’

  Alan smiled widely, his teeth sparkling in his tanned face.

  ‘This is as sweet as a nut, Annie. A good bit of wedge for one day’s work.’

  ‘How much is a good bit of wedge?’

  Annie’s voice was brisk, businesslike, and Donna watched amazed as Jonnie H. waited for his wife to have her say.

  ‘A good few grand.’

  ‘And what will my Jonnie be doing for his good few grand?’

  Alan grinned again. ‘He’ll be helping me to spring a mate from Parkhurst, that’s what he’ll be doing.’

  Annie stared at her hands for a few seconds, digesting what he had said. Then she looked up into Alan’s eyes and said seriously, her musical voice taking on a hard edge, ‘Fifteen grand, eight up front, and my Jonnie is yours, Alan.’

  He laughed out loud. ‘Your wife’s a fucking con artist!’

  Jonnie H. grinned mischievously. ‘My wife knows my worth, and don’t you ever forget it, Cox!’

  Alan held the small child up in the air and cooed at her. ‘Your mum’s the best negotiator in the business, sweetheart. ’

  The baby chortled, her chubby legs moving in a cycling motion.

  Alan placed the child back on the floor. Looking at Annie he said: ‘Fair enough. It’s a deal. Now, I want you to find me some other men I can trust. No one will know what’s going down until the day before the jump, right? I want men unknown around the south-east, men who are hard, who can take a few knocks and who can keep their traps shut.’

  Donna watched Annie carefully assessing what Alan said. Despite herself she was impressed with the woman.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, Alan. I’ve a proposition. We give you the names and for every one you decide to take on, we get a ten percent cut for commission. How’s that? We’ll recruit them for you if you want. Jonnie’s got a few good mates up here in Govan. Christ knows, they could do with the money.’

  Alan nodded. ‘That’s the ticket, girl. You do the recruiting. The only stipulation is, they must be able to keep their traps shut, before the jump and after. Especially after.’

  ‘Understood. Now, who wants more tea? I have a nice bit of ham in. I’ll make a few sandwiches then you and Jonnie can go through the names and their specialities and we can work from there. Would you like to give me a hand?’ She smiled at Donna for the first time.

  Donna stood up uncertainly and followed her out into the small kitchen.

  ‘The bread’s in there and the butter’s in the fridge. Get buttering.’

  Donna did as she was told, swallowing down her annoyance at the woman’s attitude.

  ‘So how’s Georgio these days? We haven’t seen him for a while. Jonnie H. was a good friend of his years back.’

  Donna licked some butter off her thumb. ‘Georgio’s fine, thank you, Annie. I’ll give him your best, shall I?’ Her tone was hard.

  Annie laughed. ‘You do that. Tell him Annie asked after him. Just that.’

  Donna smiled tightly. ‘He’ll know who you are, then?’

  Annie rested her arms on her huge stomach. ‘Oh, he’ll know who I am, all right, don’t you worry about that.’

  They worked in silence for a while, the atmosphere thick in the small confined space of the kitchen.

  Annie spoke again. ‘How come you’re with Alan? Georgio wouldn’t like to know you were out and about together, would he? Especially while he’s away. I remember when my Jonnie was banged up in Barlinnie, I nearly went out of my mind. Have you any wee ones?’

  Donna shook her head. ‘Georgio knows I’m here, Annie. As for children, we don’t have any.’

  Annie sneered at her. ‘You don’t look the type to get pregnant, not the way you dress.’

  Donna slammed down the knife she was cutting the sandwiches with.

  ‘And what would you know about that, eh? What are you, some kind of bloody oracle, you know everything suddenly? ’

  Annie grinned annoyingly. ‘Calm down, Donna. I was only making a statement of fact. I bet you wouldn’t be seen dead looking like I do.’

  Donna felt the fight leave her body. What with Alan and now this Madonna of the Scottish Slums, she was finding it hard to cope.

  ‘Then that just shows you how much you know, doesn’t it? I had two miscarriages and a dead boy, if you must know. I wasn’t very lucky where children were concerned. Satisfied? ’

  Annie was about to answer when Alan walked into the room.

  ‘Everything all right, girls?’ His voice was artificially bright. ‘Jonnie H. has gone down the offie for a bottle of scotch. Can I give you two a hand?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘No thanks, Alan, me and Donna are fine.’ She smiled at him reassuringly and he had no choice but to leave the room.

  Annie went to Donna’s side and touched her arm gently.

  ‘I’m a bitch, take no notice of me. It was your lovely clothes and your slim figure that annoyed me. I’m sorry for what I said, heart sorry.’

  Donna finished cutting the sandwiches.

  ‘I don’t want your sympathy, Annie. I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I was something they dragged in off the street on their shoes. I know the impression I create and I’m sorry, but that’s me. I never had to fight for anything in my life until now. But believe me when I say, for Georgio I’d fight anyone.’

  Annie smiled again, wider this time, a genuine smile.

  ‘Och, you’ll do, lassie. And let’s face it, Georgio is worth fighting for, eh? You’re a lucky girl, keeping him all these years. That’s no mean feat. Georgio is too good-looking for his own good. Or anyone else’s for that matter!’

  Donna laughed at the underlying message in what Annie said and the two of them bonded then as only women can.

  In the lounge Alan sat with the baby and thought of what he had heard Donna snap at Annie.

  A dead boy. His heart went out to her. Especially after all he had said to her in the car earlier. How could he have been so dumb, so stupid? Donna Brunos was no ordinary housewife, he had
deliberately set out to upset her. Now he realised just how he had achieved that end.

  A dead boy. The words ran around his head and every nuance of her heartbreak was in those three little words.

  A dead boy.

  No wonder Georgio was her all. At her age she didn’t have anything else to look out for, to look forward to.

  He decided then and there that if it was the last thing he did, he would see that she got what she wanted: Georgio.

  He would move heaven and earth to achieve that for her.

  Jonnie H. came back with the scotch and the girls brought in the sandwiches, smiling at one another like conspirators now. Alan shook his head at the ways of women.

  ‘I was going through names while I walked down the offie and I think I might have just the people you’re looking for. Three brothers. They stick to each other like shit on a blanket and they’re all kosher. One went down for five years for a mate, because he wouldn’t grass him. They’re called the McAnultys and they’re bastards, but trustworthy bastards. Know what I mean.’

  Alan nodded.

  As he listened to Jonnie H. he watched Annie and Donna looking after the baby, saw how Donna put the child on her lap and kissed its downy head. He could see the naked hunger in her eyes and it was like a knife going through his very soul.

  He would give her what she wanted; he would hand her Georgio on a plate if that’s what it took to keep her happy.

  He only wished he could give her what she really deserved.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Alan and Donna walked out of the flats and he checked the car over before they got into it. They were both amazed to find it intact. As they drove out of the inaptly named Harmony Row towards Argyle Street, Donna settled back into the comfort of the seat.

  ‘What did you think of Annie?’ Alan asked her.

  She shrugged. ‘I liked her, but not at first! Once we had had a little chat we were fine, though. I was surprised to find that Jonnie H. was a cockney. It seemed strange hearing his voice after all the Scottish accents.’