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Life of Crime

Page 19

by Kimberley Chambers


  ‘All those weekends he said he was playing golf, he was actually with me. He promised me he would leave you this June. But then he turned up at mine and said he couldn’t leave yet. He told me you’d had a nervous breakdown.’

  Melissa clung on to the door frame for support. She could not quite believe her ears. How dare Jason tell his bit of fluff details of their home life? And she hadn’t had a nervous breakdown, the lying arsehole, she’d been grieving the loss of their son. ‘I think you should go now,’ Melissa said, stony-faced.

  ‘I’m very sorry for turning up like this. I just thought you deserved to know the truth. I can also assure you that if you decide to stay with Jason, I will not interfere in your marriage any more. It’s over between us for good.’

  Melissa slammed the front door, sank to the floor, put her head in her hands and sobbed her heart out.

  Jason Rampling was in a bit of a pickle. Thanks to his weakness at not being able to pull that trigger, he was now unable to say no to Craig’s request.

  ‘OK. I’ll talk to Paul and sort it,’ he promised.

  ‘He is trustworthy, this Paul, isn’t he? Obviously, don’t tell him what the properties are for. But make sure he doesn’t go blabbing.’

  ‘He won’t. He’s sound,’ Jason insisted. His pal owned an estate agency in Dagenham and Craig wanted him to rent a property where a major cocaine haul would be taken to, cut up, then distributed from.

  Craig pushed an envelope towards Jason. They were sitting in his car now, chatting amicably. ‘False documentation in there. I don’t want you renting the slaughter under your name, just in case it comes on top.’

  ‘Slaughter?’

  ‘Just a figure of speech in my game. Look, I would usually pay you a fair whack for this. But seeing as you owe me twenty grand, you’ll be helping to clear your debt. Give your mate a good drink, a few grand or something, keep him sweet. I also want you to get hold of six unregistered mobile phones for me.’

  ‘And how am I meant to do that?’

  ‘Use your fucking brain. Your brothers are thieves, ask them to chore some.’ Craig fixed him with a penetrating look. ‘You don’t just owe me twenty grand, remember, Jase. You owe me big time.’

  ‘Mum, stop it. Why are you ripping up all of Dad’s clothes? Please stop. You’re drunk,’ Donte cried.

  ‘He’s not your father, Donte. He’s a no-good, womanizing, lying shitbag,’ Melissa screamed as she hacked at the sleeve of Jason’s favourite leather jacket with a large pair of scissors.

  Having just arrived home from school, Shay ran up the stairs to find out what all the shouting was about. She knew Melissa wasn’t the full shilling these days, but as she stared at all her dad’s lovely clothes cut up in a pile in the middle of the bedroom, even she was shocked. ‘Oh my God! My dad is going to kill you. You’ve completely lost the plot.’

  ‘Go and pack your stuff, Shay. You’re leaving with your father,’ Melissa spat.

  ‘Leaving! Why? What have I done? Or Dad?’ Shay argued.

  Chucking the scissors across the room, Melissa put her hands over her face and cried. ‘Your dad has cheated on me for years with a tart called Charlotte. Even when I was pregnant. She turned up here today and told me everything.’

  Donte burst into tears. Though the man he called ‘Dad’ wasn’t his real father, he’d always looked up to him as such. ‘No. It can’t be true, Mum,’ he sobbed.

  ‘I’m afraid it is, Donte. Now go and get me some dustbin liners. He can take his clothes with him – what’s left of ’em, anyway.’

  Aware that Melissa had been drinking, Shay put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re mad. I don’t know how my dad puts up with you.’

  Melissa glared at the child. ‘And you, go pack your stuff and wait for your bastard of a father outside my house. Now!’

  Bursting into tears, Shay ran from the room.

  With a heavy heart, Jason drove towards home. Charlotte still had her phone switched off and he was so hoping to see her tonight. He needed a release from the shit day he’d had and being with her always cheered him up no end.

  As he pulled up outside his house, Jason blinked in astonishment. Shay was sitting outside crying, surrounded by neighbours and bin bags. He slammed the handbrake on and leapt out the car. Had the doctor advised Melissa to chuck Bobby’s stuff away? But why now? The dustmen didn’t come until Thursday.

  ‘Dad,’ Shay cried, running towards him and hugging him tight.

  ‘Whatever’s wrong, sweetheart?’

  At that precise moment, an object flew out of the upstairs window and narrowly missed Jason’s head. He looked down. It was his and Melissa’s framed wedding photo. He looked up. ‘What the hell is going on?’ By now they were surrounded by a crowd, including the EastEnders actress who lived next door.

  ‘Your tart’s been round here, Jason,’ Melissa yelled. ‘You know the one: Charlotte – unless you’ve got more, you lying, despicable cunt. Get out of my life, for good. You’re dead to me now, just like my father.’

  Feeling totally humiliated in front of the neighbours and at the same time realizing Melissa was inebriated, Jason started picking up the dustbin liners. ‘Come on, Shay. Melissa’s obviously having a bad day.’

  ‘No point taking your clothes with you, Dad. She cut them all up,’ Shay said loudly.

  Determined to save face, Jason grinned at his neighbours. ‘Shit happens, eh? Show’s over now, guys.’

  ‘Where we going to live, Dad?’ Shay asked tearfully.

  Jason led his daughter away from the onlookers. ‘Just shut up and get in the bastard car.’

  Peggy Rampling huffed and puffed as she climbed the stepladder. Irish Ted had invited his family over to England for Christmas and she had offered to cook them Christmas dinner. She’d never met them, so seeing as the weather was dry and bright this morning, she’d decided to take the net curtains down, wash them and hang them on the line. They were spotless now, but she was struggling to hang them back up. So it came as a relief to see her grandson pull up outside. Until she spotted he had Shay with him, that was.

  ‘You all right, boy?’

  ‘No. I’m not.’

  ‘Whassa matter?’

  ‘Go upstairs for a minute, Shay, while I talk to your nan,’ Jason ordered.

  ‘No,’ Shay spat.

  ‘Don’t mess me about, girl. I’m not in the mood,’ Jason retaliated.

  ‘She ain’t staying here,’ Peggy said bluntly.

  ‘Don’t want to stay here. I hate it here and I hate you,’ Shay bellowed, before running up the stairs in tears.

  ‘Charming!’ Peggy retorted.

  ‘She’s just upset, Nan. Melissa’s thrown us both out. She found out about Charlotte.’

  ‘Oh dear. How?’

  ‘Charlotte went round the house earlier. Listen, I need to go and see Charlotte, sort this mess out. Can you look after Shay for me until I get back?’

  ‘No. I’m going bingo.’

  ‘Please, Nan. We need somewhere to kip tonight. Can we stay here?’

  ‘You can. Can’t you ask someone else to look after her though? You know I can’t stand kids around me.’

  ‘It’ll only be for one night. Please?’

  Peggy screwed her nose up. ‘All right. But put my nets up before you go off gallivanting.’

  ‘Can’t I do it when I get back?’

  ‘No. I don’t want that filthy old bastard across the road bogging in here. I swear he’s a pervert. Do it now.’

  ‘Are you OK, Mum?’ Donte asked worriedly. He had seen his mother cry before, but never like this.

  Melissa rolled over on her bed and hugged her son tightly to her chest. ‘As long as I have you by my side, I will always be OK.’

  Donte smiled and hugged his mum back. He was the man of the house now, needed to look after her.

  ‘We’ll be fine, you know. Us Brooks are made of strong stuff. I know you will miss your dad, but he is never coming back, son. You OK about that?’
>
  Appalled by what Jason had done, Donte’s lip curled. ‘I hate him, Mum. I’m glad he isn’t my real dad and if you ever take him back I will hate you too.’

  Thrilled by her son’s loyalty, Melissa kissed him on the forehead. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Jason is history.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Six Months Later

  ‘We therefore commit the body of Deborah Jane Rampling to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Looking for the blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God in our Saviour Jesus Christ who will change the body of our humiliation and …’

  Turning away from the vicar, Peggy Rampling poked her grandson in the arm. ‘If Jesus is going to change her body of humiliation, he’s got a job on his hands. Come on. Let’s go. I’ve heard enough religious old bollocks for one day.’

  Jason put an arm around his nan’s shoulders. She was in her late sixties now and not as heartless as she liked to make out. He’d known she’d been crying this morning before he picked her up, could tell by her puffy red eyes. And he’d seen the tears roll down her face during the actual service, even though she’d fiercely wiped them away. ‘It’s nearly finished now,’ he whispered.

  ‘About bleedin’ time. Not sure I fancy the wake. Might get you to drop me straight home.’

  ‘Please come, even if you only stay for an hour. I won’t be hanging about for long myself. I thought you said Irish Ted was meeting you there?’

  ‘He is. Tight old bastard will go anywhere if the booze is free. That’s probably why half these ponces turned up. She wasn’t that popular, your mother.’

  ‘Is that it? Can we go now?’ asked Elton.

  ‘No. We got to throw earth in the hole first,’ Babs wept.

  Jason put both arms around his sister and hugged her tightly. The poor cow hadn’t stopped crying all day; she blamed herself for what had happened. Elton and Kyle had not shed a tear between them and instead of wearing the black suits Jason had shelled out for, had worn black hooded Adidas tracksuits. ‘We don’t like suits. If you don’t let us wear our tracksuits, then we ain’t coming,’ Kyle had bluntly told him this morning.

  ‘You going to throw some dirt, Nan?’ Jason asked.

  ‘No. I’ll walk back to the car. My arthritis is playing up, so it’ll take me ages anyway.’

  Jason picked up a bit of dirt and chucked it on top of his mother’s coffin. After months of threatening to kill herself, she’d finally done so. An empty container of high-strength co-codamol was found next to her body. Along with a paracetamol packet and a couple of extra-strong cider bottles.

  One letter she’d left, addressed to him. It blamed him for her death and everything else that had been wrong in her life.

  Jason took one last look at the coffin before leading Barbara away from the graveside. He wouldn’t grieve. Far as he was concerned, his mother had been dead for many years.

  The wake was held in Millhouse Social Club. It was situated along the busy A13, within spitting distance of the Mardyke Estate. It was also the only local drinking establishment that Debbie Rampling hadn’t been barred from. Most of the mourners lived on the Mardyke and Jason had laid on a free bar and buffet for them.

  Peggy nudged Irish Ted. ‘Look at that bloke over there, the skinny one with the moustache. The greedy bastard’s pissed already.’

  ‘No, he isn’t. That’s Phil. He’s got multiple sclerosis. I’m going over to say hello to him.’

  Peggy turned to Jason. ‘How much has it set you back, this funeral, boy? That didn’t look a cheap coffin.’

  ‘It wasn’t,’ Jason replied. He might not have liked his mother much, but neither was he going to give her a pauper’s funeral. Being tight wasn’t in his nature. ‘Not sure. But with the wake on top, I reckon about five grand.’

  ‘You must have more money than sense,’ Peggy spat.

  ‘I’m absolutely boracic, if you want the truth. I’m going to have a word with Melissa tonight. She called me yesterday. If our marriage is over, then we’re going to have to sell the house. I can’t afford to keep paying her mortgage and my rent. The lease is up on my flat next week and I’ve told the landlord I won’t be renewing it.’ Jason had taken out a six-month lease on a flat in Buckhurst Hill. Shay lived there with him.

  ‘Well, you know my feelings on the subject of that wife of yours. The woman’s a loony, cutting up all your lovely clothes like she did. You should demand to move back into the house. What’s she ever put towards it? Wouldn’t know what a job was if one fell out the sky and hit her on the bonce.’

  ‘I’m gonna call her later. We’ve barely spoken since she booted me out.’

  ‘What about the other one?’

  ‘Who, Charlotte?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Dead in the water,’ Jason mumbled. He couldn’t be bothered going into detail, but not only had he begged Charlotte for forgiveness at the time, he’d also gone up to Stringfellows a couple of months ago to beg her again. A colleague of hers had informed him that not only had Charlotte left the club, she’d left the country. Turned out she’d met some rich American and moved to the States to be with him.

  Learning Charlotte was engaged was a kick in the teeth at the time, but Jason was over it now. At the end of the day, she was a lap-dancer and therefore not the ideal mother figure to help him raise his daughter.

  ‘Why you so skint then? I thought your new business was doing well.’

  ‘It is. But I have a lot to lay out for. The kids’ school fees aren’t cheap and the mortgage is an arm-and-a-leg job.’

  It had been Terrence, Jason’s old boss and best man, who had advised him to open a shop. Terrence was clearing storage units on a regular basis and would often unearth gems. Jason often joked he’d swapped porn for pawn, as that’s what he now was: a pawnbroker. He bought and sold second-hand stuff too. Electronics, gold, antiques and even art. The shop was in Barking, which wasn’t the most affluent of areas. But the more upmarket stuff he would advertise on the internet and people would travel from far and wide for it.

  The shop had only been open four months, and was ticking over more than nicely. Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t yet turning over enough to pay for Melissa and Donte’s opulent lifestyle. The house in Repton Park was mortgaged up the hilt and that was the biggest drain on his finances. The bills there were extortionate too.

  ‘What about the money you got from flogging those two flats in Jersey?’ Simon had advised Jason to invest in property a while back. But he’d since had to sell.

  ‘That’s tied up.’

  ‘In what?’

  Babs walking over saved Jason from answering. Nobody knew what he had used that money for, only him.

  ‘Elton and Kyle have gone. They were bored.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Jason muttered. His brothers’ bolshie attitude had been getting on his nerves lately.

  ‘Is that all for you, that food?’ Peggy asked Barbara.

  ‘Yes, Nan. I’m starving.’

  ‘Don’t speak with your mouth full, you’ll choke. Go and sit down and eat it properly with a knife and fork.’

  ‘OK.’

  When Babs waddled off, Peggy turned to Jason. ‘Did you see what she had piled on that plate? It was that heaped up it was falling off the bastard edge!’

  ‘She loves her grub, does Babs. Always has done.’

  Peggy pursed her lips. ‘Yes. It shows.’

  Melissa Rampling studied her appearance in the full-length mirror and was none too impressed by the bloated reflection staring back at her. Unlike most women who had suffered the humiliation of being cheated on, she hadn’t lost weight. She had turned to comfort eating, scoffing herself silly on chocolate and cakes in the hope it would make her feel better. Not forgetting the wine. She must have downed gallons of the stuff, trying to stave off the boredom of another lonely night. Alcohol and crap food had unfortunately become her rock, but Melissa was ready to end that particular relationship now. She needed to get her
act together if she was going to take him back. Otherwise, he was bound to stray again. Six months was a long time to spend alone. It had given her food for thought, and she now knew what she wanted and needed. Another baby.

  Donte poked his head around the bedroom door. ‘Getting glammed up ’cause he’s coming round, are you?’ he asked accusingly.

  ‘No. I am making an effort because I’ve let myself go recently. It’s about time I did something about it.’

  ‘You always look nice to me, Mum.’

  Touched by the compliment even though she knew it was a blatant lie, Melissa gave her ten-year-old pride and joy a hug. The break-up had hit him as hard as anybody and she’d recently been called in to speak to his head at the posh private school he attended in Chigwell. They had concerns that he was falling behind.

  ‘Are you looking forward to seeing Shay later?’

  ‘Suppose so. I’m not looking forward to seeing him again though.’

  Melissa stroked her son’s face. ‘Please, let’s just have an argument-free day. Whatever you think of your dad, you have to remember he’s still very generous to us. We wouldn’t be living in this lovely house if it wasn’t for him, neither would you be going to the best school in the area.’

  ‘Don’t call him that. How many times do I have to tell you, he isn’t my dad any more? He’s Jason to me now, OK?’

  ‘I understand the way you feel, darling. But be civil. Not for his sake, for mine. It is my birthday, after all.’

  ‘Happy birthday, mate,’ Tracey Thompson grinned, thrusting a gift bag in Melissa’s direction.

  Melissa hugged her best mate. ‘What you bought me? Not another vibrator, I hope,’ Mel chuckled, remembering her Christmas gift.

  ‘Nope. It’s a sensible present, for once. I hope you like it. Got some gossip for you, so I brought this too,’ Tracey said, waving a bottle of champagne in the air. ‘I thought we’d have a little tipple, before I enlighten you on my latest disaster.’

  Melissa led Tracey into the kitchen. Although she and Jason were currently not living together, they’d been happy until that fateful day. Tracey, on the other hand, had never been lucky in love. After a whirlwind romance, she’d married Kieron Jessop. Mel had never seen her pal so blissfully contented, but her happiness wasn’t to last. A keen biker in his spare time, Kieron had been out on his Harley-Davidson when he was hit by a lorry travelling at speed. He’d died instantly. Tracey had been inconsolable. To Melissa, it had sounded like a gift from God when her friend broke the news that she was carrying Kieron’s baby. Tracey didn’t think so though. Unable to face the thought of bringing up a child alone, she’d opted for an abortion. Then she wiped Kieron completely from her memory, by changing her name back to Thompson.

 

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