Fucking hell! Fred and his bloody stories! ‘Come off it—‘
He moved so he was practically hanging off his chair. ‘No, hold up, this might be of interest.’ Pearl rubbed her lips together with annoyance but she let him tell his tale. ‘Right, see back in ’79, two geezers pull a fast one on a post office and get off with twenty grand. A lot of wonga back then.’ The light in his eyes glowed with the excitement of going back to the ol’ days. ‘Ten a piece, fair and square, should’ve kept both of ‘em happy, right? Problem was one of ‘em scarpered with the whole effing lot.’
Pearl’s heart was beating like a run away train. ‘What happened?’
Fred lifted his eyebrows. ‘The geezer with the empty pockets sent a certain Uncle Frank to get his dosh back—‘
‘Uncle Frank?’ Pearl cut in with surprise.
Fred looked shocked. ‘You know Uncle Frank?’
Now it was Pearl’s turn to tap her nose. ‘Let’s just say I haven’t been on my knees praying for absolution in a convent most of my life.’
‘Well, you know where this story is heading. The man got his share of the blag and the other fella was never seen again.’ His voice dropped. ‘My point is this. Get someone on the case who Babs Miller and her kin don’t know. Someone you can trust to retrieve what rightfully belongs to you.’
Pearl’s brain got ticking away. Fred might have a point. Someone on the case…She almost slapped her forehead as the solution came to her. Of course: why hadn’t she thought of this before?
She got to her feet, slowly to ease the ache in her knees, as the pieces of her revenge against Babs started to fall nicely - thank you very much - into place.
She told Fred, ‘I know exactly who will sort this out and get my teefed gold back.’ She rubbed her hands together with anticipation. ‘Babs Miller won’t know what’s hit her.’
Fred frowned as he looked around the dayroom. ‘You seen Vi and Di this morning?’
Fred the Red might be an old, windbag much of the time but you couldn’t fault his devotion to Vi.
Pearl scowled as well. It wasn’t like the twins not to be at breakfast. ‘You get on with your toast. I’ll pop in on them before I get ready to go out.’
When she reached their room she quietly knocked. No response. She did it again and the same thing happened. A big rule of the care home was never to enter anyone’s room if they didn’t ask you to come in. Privacy was a big thing here unlike the home Pearl had moved from in Ilford.
She broke the rule as she opened the door calling the sisters name. The curtains were still drawn making it hard for Pearl to see, so she stepped further in. The sisters were lying side by side on Vi’s bed. That was funny; Di had her own bed in here.
‘Ladies, you’ll miss brekkie if you don’t put in an appearance soon.’
Neither one moved.
A chill ran down Pearl’s spine as she quickened her pace and headed to the window. She snapped the curtains open and flipped round to face the bed and almost tumbled over at what she saw.
The sisters lay side by side, their bodies as still as statues, their twin faces an unnatural white. They held hands. On the duvet cover were their numerous pill bottles completely empty.
‘No! No! No!’ Pearl chanted over and over again as she moved like a sleepwalker towards them. She didn’t need to touch them to know they were dead.
As Pearl rushed towards the door to get help she noticed a piece of folded paper on Vi’s side table.
It drew her back, and as she reached for it a voice asked, ‘Are they under the weather?’
She twisted to find a worried Fred standing in the doorway.
Oh God, Fred! Pearl moved urgently towards him blocking his view. ‘Fred, you can’t be in here right now.’
He stared at her like she was bonkers. ‘What you gassing on about?’
Pearl shook her head sadly. ‘I’m sorry Fred.’ Best for it to come from her than someone else.
‘What are you sorry…?’
He drew in such a sharp breath she thought he was going to have a coronary. Then he was running round her towards the bed. There was no sound from him as he felt for the sisters’ pulse. His silent grief dropped him to his knees. Gently he took Vi in his arms and started rocking her.
‘They left a note,’ Pearl told him and bit the inside of her lips.
‘What does it say?’ His voice was far away as if he was mumbling to himself in a dream.
‘I don’t think this is the time—‘’
‘Read it!’ he yelled as he twisted to her. He turned back to Vi. ‘Sorry sweetheart, I know you don’t like me shouting.’
Pearl opened the note and in a shaking, sick voice read:
‘To all our precious and much loved family and friends. We shared the same womb, came into this world together, courted together, even when Di tied the knot Vi was close by. Now they want to rip us apart. After what that St Aubin bastard did Vi don’t have any money left to pay the fees on this place. Yesterday she got a letter telling her there’s a place for her at that disgraceful Council care home down the road. Pulling us apart would be like losing our hearts. Anyway, as we came in this world together we thought we’d leave it the same way. Don’t cry for us. Remember us as the way we lived, two women who had the time of their lives.
PS Fred this is from Vi to you.’
Pearl raised her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, and looked with compassion at Fred. ‘She’s drawn a red love heart with your name inside.
Fred caressed Vi’s Diana Dors hair and said again and again, ‘I was too late, too late, too late.’
He made an awful, high-pitched, piercing sound that didn’t sound human.
A sound of grief Pearl would never forget.
30
Babs’ legs felt like lead as she entered Jen’s hospital ward, Flo and Tiff close behind her. She was emotionally so wrung out that she didn’t even know how she was standing up. After she’d left Tricky Dickie’s and got home the grief had overwhelmed her again. She’d cried and cried until her chest hurt so bad Babs thought she was going to end up in the ozzie too. A part of her wanted to turn around and flee because Babs wasn’t sure she could face seeing her darling Jen again with all those tubes coming out of her.
Even if this was going to rip her apart she knew she was going to have to square her shoulders, stiffen her spine and face it. Babs was the mum in this family and if she fell to pieces so did everyone else. Sometimes the burden of being the head of this family was a weight she found hard to bare.
Her mobile pinged with a text message:
Missing you. Wanting you.
TD
She closed her eyes. Oh, how she wanted him to put his solid, loving arms around her and whisper that everything was going to be alright. That when she got to Jen’s room her daughter would be sitting up in bed with a ready smile on her face.
‘Who’s that then?’ Tiff asked.
Babs quickly shoved her phone away. ‘Just someone from The Devil wanting to know how Jen is.’
The last thing she needed was more head and heartache by telling Tiff the truth.
Her breath hitched painfully in her throat when she reached Jen’s room. Courtney and Little Bea sat quietly by their mum’s beside. Poor loves looked drained.
Babs didn’t want to think it but it felt like a morgue. Like Jen was laid out ready for her coffin.
‘You alright girls?’ Tiff greeted her nieces knowing full well they weren’t.
‘I’ve got some prawn and cocktail crisps for you each.’ Flo waved the packets trying to look cheery.
Courtney wearily came over and took one, but Little Bea said not a word as she continued to gaze at her mum. Her tiny hand crept across the bed cover and clasped her mum’s palm. Babs walked quietly over to her daughter and kissed her gently on the forehead. If only kisses had the power to wake her up. Ah, to be Sleeping Beauty.
She smoothed Jen’s hair as she whispered, ‘You’re gonna be alright my beautiful girl. You’re just having
a little rest and when you’re ready you’re gonna open those gorgeous eyes of yours. And the whole family’s gonna be here to give you a big Miller hug.’
Flo moved to stand at the foot of the bed. ‘I still don’t understand why someone would do this. Why attack the club?’
The veins in Tiff’s neck stood with the force of her promise. ‘If I ever get my hands on them, I’ll…’
Babs finally let the emotion she’d been hiding from come to the surface – guilt. What if Dee had got it all wrong about the protection racket and this had something to do with the gold? Someone had been gunning for her and got her beloved daughter instead? But who? Unless…
Babs swung to face Flo. ‘Your granddad—‘
Flo was horrified. ‘The Commander would never do anything like this—‘
Tiff jumped in angrily, ‘Is that what you’re doing here?’ she accused rushing to get into her half-sister’s face. ‘Reporting back on our weak spots so your Captain Bligh Granddad can take his revenge coz he thinks we’ve got his fucking gold?’
Babs snapped out, ‘Tiffany. The girls.’
But her youngest didn’t take a blind bit of notice, hurting so badly that her sister was near death’s door. ‘It was you, weren’t it?’ She pushed Flo.
Flo’s face twisted as she pushed back. ‘Get outta my face. I’m not—‘
‘I know why.’ Courtney said it so softly that the others didn’t hear and the row continued until it looked like her aunts were going to go down kicking and fisting besides her mum’s sick bed.
‘I know why,’ she practically shouted.
The door thrust open and a nurse popped her head into the room. Her sour look said that she’d seen family punch-ups a time or two and she wasn’t putting up with it on her ward.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘’Course not,’ Babs said quickly, ‘Matron…Sister…Nurse. We’re just a touch upset as I’m sure you can understand.’
She stared hard at each one of them and then firmly closed the door.
Babs turned to Courtney. ‘Do you know why this happened babe?’
She said it softly because the poor thing looked she was ready to sob her guts out again.
‘One of my mates on The Devil rang me—‘
‘Who?’ Tiff butted in.
Babs turned on her. ‘Shut. It.’ Then switched back to her granddaughter.
‘My mate said they heard that Aunty Dee wouldn’t pay some men money—‘
‘What money?’ Tiff got in there again.
Flo sent her a withering stare. ‘Protection money of course.’ Her gaze lightened as she settled it on her niece. ‘Is that what you mean?’
Courtney nodded. ‘And these men decided to teach her a lesson by shooting up the club.’ Her face crumbled as her eyes jack knifed onto her still mum. ‘And now mum’s gonna die.’
Babs embraced her tightly. ‘Who did your mate say these geezers were?’
Courtney pushed slightly away from her Nan. ‘Said they’re called Pinky and Styley.’
‘You what?’ said Flo, going into Stan Miller voice. ‘Pinky and Winky? Someone’s pulling your leg.’
Courtney pulled out of Babs’ arms. ‘Nah, it’s true. Cross my heart.’
Babs abruptly searched the room, her eyebrows snapping together. ‘Where’s your Aunty Dee?’
‘She had to leave.’
‘Leave?’ Babs’ voice rose with righteous indignation. ‘You mean she left the two of you here on your tod without no one to look after ya?’ She was beyond fury. ‘I told her not to leave you alone. What’s she playing at?’
Courtney looked at her fizzing Nan through her lowered lashes. ‘She said she was going to find this Pinky and Styley.’
The adults started going at it again forgetting all about Courtney.
She crept to the side and palmed a scalpel one of the doctor’s had left behind.
Natty’s nanny, Miriam, admired her slim figure as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in Dee’s dressing room. Satisfied with what she saw she turned her attention to baby, who was upright in his carry-chair on top of the dressing table. Yet another dressing table! Mirrors all over the gaff! What a vain tramp! Hadn’t even bothered to come back the night before. Called her up though with some fake up story about her sister being shot. As if! Putting it about in some diseased toe rag’s bed that’s where she was. Didn’t deserve the title of ‘mother.’ But, of course, this wasn’t that witch’s baby. This was her baby. Her Andy.
‘What shall I wear today Andy sweetheart?’
She stepped towards Dee’s extensive collection of designer dresses.
‘All knock off o’course. That woman pretending to be your old girl couldn’t afford the real deal.’ She half-turned back to the baby. And winked. ‘Me and you know the truth.’
Miriam wrinkled her nose. He was starting to stink the place out. She hadn’t changed him once this morning. Wet through, he was, from last night. She carelessly shrugged. No matter. There would be enough time to clean baby up before the slag-hag came through the front door. That’s if Mizzery Dee decided to come back at all today.
Miriam turned back to the dresses and roughly snatched out a Michael Kors’ above the knee, green ribbed number. She moved back to the mirror and held it up against herself. Her sullen mouth twisted as she posed this way ‘n’ that. Growling deep in the back of her throat she slung it with distaste to the floor.
She looked over at Natty. ‘Cheap trash.’
Her beautiful little fellow started bawling. Miriam froze at the loud noise. Her heart rate hiked up and pounded away. She became fearful. If Andy didn’t shut it he would hear them.
‘Now I’ve told you Andy until I’m blue in the face what will happen if you make noise and he finds us.’ Miriam’s voice shook with fear.
She didn’t want to do this but had no choice. She went to her bag and pulled the Sellotape out. The baby’s tears abruptly stopped. His stare was full of terror. She’d had to tape his mouth on a number of occasions so he got the message loud and clear. It was either that or a pillow over his face for a few seconds. Miriam hadn’t had to resort to that yet, but she would if it meant he would never find them again. He wasn’t ever taking Andy away from her ever again. Never!
She got back on with finding a dress in that bitch’s collection. A flowery print number that, as far as Miriam was concerned, wasn’t even good enough to wipe Andy’s arse, went the same way as the last one. A retro, fifties lilac, polka dot cocktail dress. She chucked that too. Trash! Trash! Trash! A pile of clothing, which must total a collectively price tag towards the ten grand mark, lay strewn on the gleaming wooden floor.
She checked Natty...Her eyes misted over. Natty? Who was Natty? He didn’t look like Andy.
Terrified, she started panicking, her heart beating like crazy. Where was her baby gone? Desperately she shook her head until the mist lifted and Andy came back into view. The panic vanished. Her darling baby stared at her strangely; well that’s what it appeared to her. Almost like he was telling her off for having the brass to touch his phoney mum’s gear.
She tutted. ‘It’s not my fault that woman is as cheap as a Lidl’s summer deal.’ Her eyes lit up as she perked up and waved her hands in excitement. ‘I’m gonna teach you all about how to dress to impress. You mark my words, those baby girls will be pulling each other’s hair out to have first dibs at you.’
She cackled with pure delight. Gave her attention back to the dresses.
Her breath suddenly caught in wonder in her throat. ‘Think I’ve found the one Andy.’
Gently she eased out a dress that was covered with a light, protective paper. She gasped as the dress was slowly revealed. Now, you couldn’t call this bargain basement tat. Simply gorgeous. A shimmering, scandalous, scarlet, neck-to-toe creation. Thrilled to the core Miriam checked the label. Saint Bloody Laurent. Classic.
Miriam whipped it on in less than a minute. Despite it being made for a woman with a fuller figure, incl
uding in the bust department, she preened and strutted her stuff in front of the mirror. Oh yeah, she looked the bizz alright. Miriam suddenly imagined herself stepping out onto the red carpet at a celeb event. And Natty…
No, her mind screamed. No! No! No! This baby was Andy. He would be there right with her, securely, and lovingly, tucked up in her safe arms.
‘Doesn’t mummy look a picture?’ she declared jubilantly as she twirled round and round until she stopped with bursts of frenzied laughter as dizzy as her head.
The merriment dropped off her face as quickly as it had come. ‘Better get this off coz we still have to teach you to call me mummy.’
Once the dress was back on the hanger she maliciously yanked and tore the stitches from it part way down one side.
31
Pinky pointed the shooter at Styley and curled his finger round the trigger.
His brother’s eyes bulged. ‘What the fuckurees Pink? What the heck are ya playing at?’ His irate voice echoed around the gym like a shot had already been fired.
Styley opened his mouth again, but snapped it shut when he noticed the coldness glazing his brother’s eyes.
Pinky had been proper moody, like a caged animal, since Biggin’s open-air bollocking of the night before. They’d legged it, with their family jewels cupped in their hands, like two flashers fleeing the law. Even though they’d tried their hardest to keep to the shadowed, cobbled back alleys of Wapping they had still run into a Duchess type walking her pooch. She’d screamed like she was in the front row watching The Exorcist, her bow-wow lunging and yipping playing the badass of the doggie world. Styley had played it cool with an, ‘Evening missus,’ tipped his head like he was doffing a cap and then they had calmly walked on.
No way were they going to get back to their patch without being seen again or someone alerting the Feds. Besides, their rep would take a massive hit if word did the rounds they were out ‘n’ about with their nuts and bolt swinging in the breeze. Their rep was how they maintained order; any slip-ups and people started taking liberties, big time.
Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists Page 18