by Jacqui Rose
Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours Alfie Jennings choked up. He smiled so warmly, Bree had to look away. ‘You soppy cow, you’ll have me welling up, but whilst we’re putting it out there, well, it broke my heart when they took you away. But look at you now, you’re beautiful both inside and out.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘You are and don’t let anyone tell you different.’ He got up and walked over to her, then kneeled down in front of her as she sat on the bed. ‘You really are special Bree, you always were.’
She smiled, thinking about her mantra: the enemy. The enemy. That’s all he is. ‘You’re special too, Alf.’
As she sat there, he looked up at her with his warm blue eyes and kissed her so gently on her lips it seemed electric. He felt her body through her dress as he caressed her back then he reached up and started kissing the nape of her neck. Undoing her top, Alfie bent over, slipping off the rest of her clothes.
He smiled, lifting her naked body up the bed, watching her as she smiled back at him. Laying her against the pillows he kissed her, letting himself savour the moment. He closed his eyes, his mind thinking about nothing but Bree.
‘Alfie …’
Her voice broke into his thoughts. He looked down at her tenderly.
‘You alright?’
‘I just … I want to take it slowly, I …’
Resting on his elbow, he reached across, playing and stroking her hair. His naked body still hard against hers. ‘Bree, you know we don’t have to do this if you ain’t ready.’
‘I want to, it’s just …’ She trailed off, picturing Ryan, feeling so much love in her heart for him, but a long time ago she’d given up thinking that they’d ever be physically intimate again, so why did she feel like she was cheating on him when she never did when Johnny forced her – as he did every night – to sleep with him? Perhaps, just perhaps, it was because being with Alfie, being next to his body, felt so good.
‘I’m sorry, Bree.’
She touched his face. ‘Don’t apologise, you ain’t done nothing wrong. The gentleman as always.’
Alfie pulled a face. ‘I don’t know about that, and I don’t know if many people would agree with you either.’
‘Then they don’t know you.’
‘Maybe it’s you that don’t know me. You only see this side of me, there’s a lot more and it ain’t good. I’ve done things I ain’t proud of and I still do.’
‘Like what?’
‘Things.’
Bree sat up, turning on her side to look at Alfie. ‘No, go on, I’m interested. You keep saying all this stuff and you say you trust me, so I hope you know I won’t judge, but I’ve no idea what it is you do exactly.’
Alfie gave a crooked smile. He traced his finger along her face, pushing her long hair behind her ears. It was so good to talk to her. In fact, it was so good to talk to anybody that wasn’t somehow connected to the business. So good not to worry. Refreshing didn’t even come close. He grinned at her, his tone turning playful. ‘If I tell you, and you repeat anything I say, you know I’ll have to kill you.’
Bree grinned back. She leant over to give Alfie a quick kiss on the lips.
‘Then I’ll just have to make sure I keep me mouth shut, won’t I?’
He kissed her back. ‘I guess you will … So let’s see if you think I’m still a gentleman after I tell you exactly what I do. I’ll bet you’ll be running for that door.’
‘Try me.’
‘There’s this job, right, and it involves a whole heap of diamonds …’
And as Alfie Jennings told Bree all about Eddie, the lorry, the diamonds, his fears and his suspicions, Bree asked questions, nodded at the right places and made a mental note of everything. And when he’d finished Alfie looked at her and said, ‘So, that’s it really. We’re meeting Perry next Tuesday. Can you believe the geezer wants us to do the drop-off on the beach on Mersea Island at the dead of night? I reckon he thinks he’s in Pirates of the Caribbean. Mug. Anyway, there you have it. My life in a nutshell. What do you think. Still think I’m the gentleman?’
She smiled, her heart breaking. ‘I think you’ll never really know what it means that you trusted me enough to tell me everything. Thank you … And Alfie?’
He looked at her softly. ‘Yeah?’
‘Kiss me.’
‘What?’
‘Kiss me. I know I said I wanted to take it slowly, but …’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah.’
And as Alfie began to kiss Bree, his strong, muscular body hard on top of hers, she closed her eyes, knowing this may well be the last time she saw him alive.
56
Bree didn’t know how long she and Ryan had been running through the woods, but she was tired and it was clear Ryan didn’t understand why they needed to keep on going. The morphine didn’t seem to be working and the pain in her abdomen was getting worse.
They were soaking wet and she could see Ryan was cold and anxious, but there was no other way. They had to get away.
‘Ryan, it’ll be alright. Let’s just go a little further. We might be able to find somewhere to hide.’
He gazed at her blankly, his face so worried and so unsure. Bree was about to say something else when she felt a pain she’d never experienced before shoot through her. The agony of it sent her stumbling forward and she fell, slipping and sliding down the muddy track. As she tried to stop her fall, her foot got caught, spinning and twisting her round, sending her crashing down on her back. She screamed out, turning her head to bury it into the wet ground, wanting to mute her cries. She felt a sudden warmth between her legs and in the moonlight she could just make out the blood on her dress. She was bleeding.
‘Bree! Bree! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Ryan! Ryan! Answer me, Ryan!’
Getting up, she slammed her hand across Ryan’s mouth who looked terrified and confused. She shook her head, speaking softly to him. ‘Don’t say a word. Don’t say a word.’
Carefully she took her hand off Ryan’s mouth. Bree, hardly able to walk from the pain, led Ryan towards the hill, each step she took hurting.
‘Ryan, don’t cry. We’ll walk a little bit further and then we’ll rest. I promise we’ll rest.’
As they stumbled through the woods, Bree could hear the sound of Johnny’s voice coming nearer.
‘Where you going Bree? There ain’t nowhere to run. Why are you making it harder on yourself, Bree? Come back, we’re going to find you anyway. Bree! And Ryan, you can’t take Ryan, you know that, Bree! He ain’t yours anymore. He’s ours. Ryan belongs to us.’
They needed to move faster, she could hear the dogs. They didn’t have long.
‘Come on Ryan, come on!’
The panic began to rise as the pains became worse. It was almost as if she couldn’t breathe. The agony holding her, slowing her down, making her not want to move and she didn’t know how long she could bear it.
The velvet darkness surrounded them as the storm picked up and Bree tried to smile. ‘Ryan, hold my hand. Keep holding my hand.’
‘I want to go. I want to go. I want to go.’
‘Shhh, Ryan, quiet.’
Seeing some bushes up ahead, Bree decided it might be a good hiding place and gently pushed Ryan, guiding him underneath the large rhododendron bush.
She cradled him close, squeezing his arm, feeling the guilt of what she’d caused as she listened to the dogs. Then an awful thought crossed her mind. The blood. The dogs would smell the blood if she didn’t cover it up.
‘Stay here, Ryan. I’ll be back soon.’
Crawling out into the moonlight Bree saw the trail of blood and as the rain poured and the wind crept up she saw them. They were coming. Johnny was less than ten metres away.
Trying to manoeuvre slowly backwards, the wave of pain hit Bree again. She bit into her sleeve, trying to stop herself crying out. But the pain was too much and she heard herself scream.
And as
Johnny heard her cries, he turned and smiled, dark eyes staring coldly at her.
‘Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by the tree, bunny ears, bunny ears, trying to catch Bree … Hello Bree, I told you I’d find you. We’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t you think?’
With the pain ripping through her, her hands and knees sunk into the wet earth as Bree crawled forward towards Johnny’s feet, her blood mixing in the mud.
‘Help me. The baby. I’m bleeding. The baby’s coming.’
‘If you want me to help you, then you need to say please, and promise me that you and Ryan will never leave Johnny again.’
‘Please Johnny … please, just help me.’
‘Say it!’
Barely able to utter the words, Bree whispered. ‘… I promise … I promise I’ll never leave Johnny again.’
And with that, Bree blacked out.
57
‘Well? What’s it going to be? Good news or bad?’ Johnny Dwyer stared at Bree as she sipped her tea in the kitchen of the mobile home. It was spotless as always, and the smell of bleach sat heavily in the air. The Swarovski crystal handles on the cupboards glistened in the late afternoon sun.
‘Alfie told me everything,’ Bree said flatly. ‘I’ve got all the details. He’s staying in a bed and breakfast near Southend. Seems like he’s had a falling-out with the others. Anyway, I was going to call you on the way back, but I thought it was best to wait to tell you in person.’
‘Ma! Ma!’ Johnny shouted through the window. A moment later the door of Ma’s caravan opened. She stood, frowning, her cream and coral polyester nightie clinging to every bulbous curve.
‘What are you shouting about? Fucking hell, what’s happened now? I tell you, if it’s Ryan and those bleedin’ kittens of his, if he’s still letting them piss everywhere, then I’m sick of it. Just give him a good hiding and be done with it.’
‘Shut up Ma, and come here, I got some news.’
Waddling over in her slippers as the sun seeped through the clouds, Ma walked into Johnny’s and Bree’s home, muttering to herself as she ambled down the hallway.
Standing in the doorway, wheezing, she shrugged. ‘Well what is it son? Where’s the fire? And this better be worth it.’
‘Oh, it is! Guess what, Bree’s done good. She’s got it out of Alfie. We’re on.’
Ma turned to look at Bree. Her stare cold and nasty. ‘Is that right?’
Bree glanced down at the floor, Ma’s gaze making her feel uncomfortable. ‘It is.’
Ma sniffed, running her finger along the worktops checking for dust. ‘And what did you have to do Bree? What did Little Miss Muffet have to do for three million pounds’ worth of shiny diamonds?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Don’t give me the innocent virgin act, it don’t suit you. Especially as I know how you seduced my boys. I watched you, remember?’
Bree’s head shot up and she frowned, shaking her head. ‘That’s not true, you know it’s not.’
‘I see sleeping with Alfie has given you some lip.’
‘I didn’t sleep with him, Ma,’ Bree said, lying.
‘Oh, come on. I can smell him on you … You like him, don’t you? I can see it.’
Vehemently, Bree shook her head. ‘That didn’t even come into it.’
Ma stepped towards Bree, her underarm hair long and wet from sweat. ‘You can’t fool me, I’m a woman. I know these things.’
‘Well you’re wrong, Ma. I just did what Johnny asked me to do.’
Ma’s hand shot out quickly, slapping Bree hard across the face. ‘Don’t speak to me like that.’
‘Leave her alone, Ma.’
Whirling around to stare at Johnny, Ma spoke, a cruel tone layered in her words. ‘Son, I’m just looking out for you. You’d be a fool to trust her. But then, you’ve always been a fool when it comes to her, ain’t you? Even when Ryan had her, you wanted her. Sent you crazy. You couldn’t stand to see him with her, nearly drove you insane. Problem is you’ve never known how to keep her.’
Ma laughed nastily as Johnny raged, his head beginning to hurt.
‘Just shut it Ma, shut it! You should be happy, celebrating. Alfie Jennings is on his last supper but instead you do this! You can’t help yourself can you? Bree got what we wanted, so drop it.’
‘Yeah but Johnny, what did she have to do? What did she do? Go on, ask her if you dare. Ask her what she did with Alfie.’
Like a child, Johnny put his hands over his ears. ‘Why you doing this? Why you doing this to me? I don’t wanna hear it! Just shut up or get out!’
Ma stared at Johnny, then at Bree. She snarled at her son. ‘Is that how it is? You’re siding with this slut over me. Your own ma. Don’t you love me no more, Johnny?’
‘Stop!’
‘Then tell me you love me.’
Johnny rubbed his eyes, the noise getting louder in his head. ‘I said stop!’
Ma’s eyes were wide and intense. Loose fatty skin hung down from her pale white open arms. ‘Just show me then. Show me you love me. Come on son, give your Ma a hug.’
He shook his head.
‘I said, come on!’
Kicking the table over, Johnny clattered out the room, shouting as he slammed open the front door. ‘No more, Ma, no more!’
Eddie Styler grinned as he pressed the phone to his ear. The news couldn’t be better. Things were certainly looking up.
‘Johnny that’s sweet. Your missus did well. Alfie and Vaughn, or rather Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, won’t know what’s hit them. But it’s best if I come around to yours and discuss details, I’m a little bit, how shall I put it …’ He stopped and turned around to throw a roll of toilet paper at Sandra who sat, knickers around her ankles, on the lavatory, glaring at him.
‘… occupied. I’ve got me hands full a bit here. It’s a little bit awkward … Okay … yeah great. I’ll see you then.’
As Eddie put down the phone he immediately dialled a number. It rang for a moment before a deep voice answered. ‘Yes?’
‘Jason, it’s Eddie.’
‘I know who it is.’
‘Well I was just phoning to tell you that we’re finally on with the stones, so it looks like it’s only a matter of days until you get your money. I’ll let you know all the details soon.’
As Eddie put the phone down on Jason Robinson, he stared at Sandra, gesturing her out of the bathroom with his gun. He smiled. His plan was working out better than even he could’ve imagined and soon – very, very soon – he’d be lying on a beach in the sun.
Sandra Styler paced around in the darkness of the basement. She’d got used to it. In fact, if she were to be honest with herself, under different circumstances she wouldn’t mind it at all. The one thing she hadn’t been keen on was the bucket in the corner Eddie had tried insisting that she used, but eventually, after loud protestations, he’d succumbed and allowed her to go to the downstairs bathroom under his strict supervision; watching her and making sure she didn’t make any moves.
The chronic pains she’d suffered from the blow to her head had ceased and now the only things left were a few bruises and of course, the burning, simmering hatred for Eddie, which rose above everything else – above the darkness, above her own anxiety, above the pain, blocking any other thought than revenge.
And as she paced around the room in the darkness, sitting bitterly in her heart, Sandra could taste it, the retribution that would eventually come to him. But first, she needed to think of a way to contact Alfie. She needed to warn him against Bree, and once she had done that, once she was free, then Edward Robert Albert Styler would have it coming, boy would he just, and she would enjoy every last moment of it.
58
Bree opened her eyes and for a moment she wasn’t quite sure where she was. Her mind was hazy; she didn’t recognise the room she lay in. And then it hit her. In one suffocating wave it came flooding back to her. The woods, Ryan, the pain. Her baby …
Quickly she sat up, looking down at
her stomach.
‘Hello Bree, finally, Little Miss Muffet’s decided to wake up.’
Bree jumped, panic suddenly setting in as she realised Ma was in the room. ‘Oh my God, what’s happened? What’s happened? The baby, Ma! The baby!’
‘I’d calm down if I was you, Bree.’
Bree screamed. ‘Not until you tell me what’s happened!’
Ma leapt up, moving surprisingly quickly for her overweight frame. She flew at Bree, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her hard. ‘I said calm down! Calm down!’
Bree continued to cry and savagely, Ma raised her hand, striking her across her face leaving a raised red welt. ‘Shut up! Shut up! I told you to shut up!’
As Ma shook her, Bree’s head whipped back and forth, her desperation palpable. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just tell me what happened, please.’
Releasing her grip slightly, Ma stared at Bree. ‘You gave birth Bree, but it’s all fine.’
‘What? What are you talking about?’
‘You gave birth shortly after Johnny carried you back from the woods. But me and Johnny think it’d probably be best if someone else, someone more stable, took over your role for the time being.’
‘I don’t understand. What do you mean, take over my role?’
‘As a mother, Bree. You’re in no fit state to be a mother. Look at you. You’re a mess. You can’t even look after yourself. We’ve got family in Ireland, good people who’ll be better at caring than you.’
Bree, almost hysterical, screamed at Ma. ‘No! No! You can’t do that. It’s not your child!’
‘Like I say it’s for the best. I’ve got me hands full looking after Ryan, let alone becoming some kind of nursemaid.’
Defiantly, Bree said, ‘I want my baby. I’ll go to the police …’
Ma’s laugh was cruel and filled the room. ‘Oh Bree, who are you kidding? But if that’s what you want to do darlin’, go ahead, be my guest. But let me warn you, you’ll never have any chance of becoming a mother, not with that lot anyway. Police and social services will take one look at you and see you for what you are. You’re unfit to be a mother, Bree. You ain’t got no home, no money and no job. And to top it off Bree, you didn’t even go to get a check-up when you were pregnant, what mother does that? Not one that cares. You’re also an addict.’