Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  Babs shuddered at hearing her girl call Pearl ‘Aunty’.

  Dee continued, ‘Even when I asked you flat out, you denied it. So when my dad tells me that you were ashamed of your little black baby, ashamed of its black father and you turned your back on the both of us, you know what? I’m inclined to believe him, not you.’

  Babs wilted like a flower in winter. ‘I hid the gold to stop it destroying my family—’

  ‘Well, you did a good job of that, didn’t you Babs,’ Dee barked with such fury it was a wonder none of the glasses shattered in the bar. ‘My John died because of that gold and all the time you were keeping it for yourself—‘

  ‘No way Dee, I’d never—‘

  Dee stepped back as her mother desperately reached out to her. ‘If you’d told me where it was maybe my wonderful husband would still be alive today.’

  Babs stabbed her finger in the air, her anger building again. ‘John was long gone by the time Pearl discovered he’d been stashing it in one of my houses.’

  ‘Houses you got from Stanley Miller. You probably diddled him out of those as well.’ Tiff gasped in outrage but didn’t butt in as Dee’s tirade gathered steam. ‘You made sure I never knew my dad, pushed Stan out of your life so he never got to know his girls. What kind of mum are you? The Black Widow kind, that’s what.’

  Babs marched the remaining distance between them and slapped Dee hard and harshly across the face. The sound was a whip crack in a sea of blistering silence. Her fingers fluttered to her trembling mouth, the blood draining from her face realising what she’d done. ‘Dee, babe, I never meant—‘

  Her words dribbled away as her daughter turned her face away. ‘I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but you’re done, you’re shot. I don’t wanna hear anymore of your stories.’ Her voice turned hard as steel. ‘What I do want is John’s gold back.’

  Babs thrust her hand into her hair in utter frustration.

  ‘How many times have I gotta say I don’t have it? They’re playing you Dee. Pearl’s got it tucked away. All that hunched shoulder shit she does is a game. Wants people to feel sorry for her and then she goes in for the kill. Don’t believe a word that comes out of her evil gob.’

  Babs turned on Neville. ‘You proud of yourself, are ya? Have a bit of fun reversing the truth. Because that’s the only thing you were ever good at, wasn’t it? Telling lies and scalping girls.

  Neville’s face said nothing but his eyes twinkled. ‘You’d be surprised Babs. I’ve learned to be good at a lot of things since the days when you left me and dumped my daughter—‘

  ‘You…’ Babs lunged at him, fists at the ready, but she was dragged back by Flo.

  Stan’s daughter urgently whispered in her ear, ‘He’s not worth it.’ Her fierce gaze did a circle of Pearl’s family. ‘None of ‘em are. Especially you,’ she spat at Dee.

  Dee lashed back at Flo, ‘and you’re here in training as the next Mother Teresa I suppose? Give me a break! Only one reason you gate crashed Babs’ place and that’s to report back to your granddad on any info on the whereabouts of the gold. You know I’ve hit the bullseye so fess the fuck up.’

  Flo suddenly looked peaky, but didn’t rise to the bait. She merely arched a mocking eyebrow.

  ‘I knew the Commander very well back in our Soho days,’ Pearl uttered softly as if telling a bedtime story. Her lip curled with bitterness. ‘A flash, posh Harry full of lies and bullshit bollocks. Do tell Jimmy that Pearlie sends her love.’ With disdain she blew Flo a kiss.

  Neville gently took Dee’s arm. ‘Come on daughter, Babs’ lies are stinking the place out. She just can’t stop herself.’

  He gestured at his great-nephews and then escorted his daughter out.

  Desperate, like a teenager who’d just been dumped for her best friend, Babs ran outside after them screaming, ‘Get your lying mitts off my daughter. Let’s talk Dee. I can prove it was him who ran out on us, anyone will tell you. Let me tell you about the gold…’

  Neville abruptly stopped and used his big hand to push her backwards. Babs stumbled to the side and fell in the road. She didn’t get up, bowed her head and sobbed.

  Tiff gathered her mum to her feet as Flo swore a blue streak and flew after Neville and Dee.

  Pinky stopped in his tracks and twisted to face her. ‘Back off little gal.’

  Flo held her arms wide. ‘Make me.’

  He scoffed, scornfully taking the measure of her with those startling blue eyes in his brown face. ‘Why don’t you fuck off back to your yard and play with your dolls?’

  ‘I see you anywhere near Babs again you’ll end up as stiff as a doll, you shit-faced cunt.’

  He cut his teeth at her, dissed her with his eyes and made his way to the car. Someone’s mobile started ringing as Babs pushed out of Tiff’s arms and ran desperately towards the departing car. With fury she thumped it.

  The back window wound down and Styley warned, ‘My cousin Dee wants her old man’s gold back. Make sure she gets it.’

  The car’s engine revved, wheels turned and it sped off. Half mad with grief Babs tried to chase it down the street begging for Dee to hear her out.

  ‘Mum!’ Tiffany shouted.

  Babs didn’t hear her. All she could hear were the wheels of the SUV taking her daughter further and further away from her. Her hands clenched hopelessly at her side. She was losing her girl all over again. Probably never see her precious Natty either.

  Suddenly Tiff was by her side. She took her shaking mum by the arm and whispered, face ashen.

  ‘That was the hospital.’

  As they drove triumphantly away Pinky’s mobile went off.

  ‘What do you want?’ he growled, none too pleased at who was on the other end of the line.

  ‘I’ve got something that might be of interest,’ the Salesman stammered.

  Pinky twisted his lips as the motor turned a corner. The Salesman knew how their relationship played out – they got on the blower to him not the other way round.

  ‘You looking to get those delicate hands of yours mashed up?’ Pinky threatened. Any mention of damaging this man’s hands had him hightailing it for the hills.

  ‘No.’ Strangely the other man didn’t sound like he was shitting a brick. ‘But this is about my hands.’

  Pinky’s interest was peaked. He frowned deeply. ‘What you chatting on about?’

  Pinky could feel The Salesman smile. ‘I might be able to get my hands on something for you…’

  39

  ‘What do you mean she’s taken a turn for the worse?’ Babs cried out desperately to the doctor.

  One daughter had just waltzed out of her life and now the hospital was telling her another might do the same. How could life be so cruel? Babs wanted to howl her anger and rage to the heavens. Jen couldn’t die, she couldn’t. Babs wasn’t ready for this. She only realised her legs were slipping from under her when Tiff caught and guided her gently to a chair.

  The solemn-faced doctor stood next to her as Tiff and Flo sat by her side.

  He said, ‘She developed a blood clot and is in surgery as we speak. Our best surgeon is working on her.’

  ‘How long will the surgery last?’ Flo asked.

  It was just as well Flo could speak for her because Babs couldn’t utter a single word. The ensuing conversation floated around her. She didn’t even know when the doctor left or when Tiff asked if she wanted a cuppa or a puff on something. Nothing mattered except Jen. What the heck was she going to tell Courtney and Little Bea if their mum never came home?

  How long they sat there before Tiff shook her arm she’d never know. But she raised her head to find the doctor standing there again. Bloody hell it must’ve been hours.

  ‘Mrs Miller we’ve removed the blood clot. Jen still remains in a coma. We are closely monitoring—‘

  ‘Will my girl wake up?’ she croaked.

  ‘We don’t know Mrs Miller. We just don’t know.’

  What was that?

 
Flo woke up, on high alert. It was still pitch black. She strained an ear towards the bedroom door. Yeah, there it went again. Some kinda noise either in the hallway or another room. It’s a wonder she could hear anything with Tiff snoring for all she was worth on her reclaimed bed. She slipped out of the camper bed and picked up Tiff’s poker. If Pinky and Styley were in the flat there was going to be murder on The Devil tonight.

  Travelling softly, the way her dad had taught her to creep up on someone, she opened the door and walked into the corridor. Stopped and listened. A snuffling sound, very faint, which was coming from what she called a lounge and Stan had told her folks in the East End called a sitting room.

  It had become Babs’ temporary bedroom. Flo felt the heaviness of the poker in her hand, her face grim. If some cunt was in there causing Babs grief she’d brain the bastard. She inched towards the lounge and listened. Sounded like the breathing of one person. Babs.

  And she was crying.

  Flo leaned the poker in the corner and opened the door. Babs was sitting in the dark. She was hunched over on her makeshift bed on the settee, head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs. The sight of Babs in such a state left Flo feeling upset. Funny that; this was someone she’d once vowed to destroy.

  ‘Mummy Babs?’ she asked hesitantly, then realised what she’d called Babs. She didn’t have a clue where that had come from.

  Startled, Babs half twisted as Flo entered and closed the door quietly behind her.

  Babs blew her nose with a tissue and said too brightly, ‘this hay flippin’ fever’s killing me. You go back to bed girl.’

  Flo nearly answered it was the wrong time of year for hay fever, but it looked like Babs would spring another leak if she put her on the back foot. Best keep it to herself.

  Flo crept closer until she stood in front of the older woman. When she caught sight of Babs’ face she sucked in her breath. Her father’s former wife was the picture of a broken woman with marble-white skin and a lifeless, lost look in her cried out eyes.

  Flo hunkered down on her knees beside Babs, her gaze searching her distraught face. ‘Not that long ago I’d rather have chocked than say this, but you’re a strong woman Mummy Babs, one of the strongest I know. Jen’s gonna pull through, you mark my words.’

  Babs looked like a wounded animal unable to lick its wounds. ‘My baby’s gone again.’

  Flo frowned hard. ‘What baby?’ Blimey, this family had more skeletons than the royal family.

  ‘My Dee.’ Oh, that very big baby. Babs wiped her nose. ‘I was already carrying her when I met your dad and he did me a turn by marrying me, which didn’t turn out to be the best move of my life.’ She shook her head. ‘I won’t tell you all of the ins and outs, but I didn’t bring Dee up. I lost her.’ Her voice caught in her throat. ‘We re-connected again when she got big. Now I’ve lost her again.’

  Babs started heaving and weeping loudly. “I’m a bad mum, aren’t I? I must be to lose my darling Dee twice in one lifetime.’

  Flo sprang up, shoved in next to Babs and took her in her arms. She rocked her as the other woman cried and cried.

  ‘You’re the best mum I’ve ever seen.’ And Flo meant that. ‘Dee will be back, believe you me. All she wants to do is to get to know her father. I know what that feels like, I’ve been there. But you know what?’ Gently she pulled back so she could see Babs’ face. ‘When she realises what an colossal twat this Neville is she’ll come running to the person she knows loves her the most – her mum.’

  Babs pulled a packet of tabs out of her dressing gown pocket and stared hard at them. ‘I called these my Annies, my anxiety pills. I fought hard and long in prison to get off ‘em and haven’t taken one in over two years.’ Her face twisted in pain. ‘But with Dee gone and Jen battling for her life I feel like I’ve walked over the edge of a cliff and maybe my Annies will help me cling on.’

  Flo took on the mum’s role. ‘No way are you swallowing any of that lot after you moved heaven and earth to see yourself straight.’ She stretched out her palm with a ‘give me’ gaze and, after a moments hesitation, Babs placed them in her hand.

  Flo took Babs’ hand and guided her to her feet. ‘Time for you to get some shut-eye.’

  Flo sorted the settee out until it resembled a bed and got Babs tucked up.

  ‘See you in the morning,’ Flo said softly.

  As she made her way to the door Bab’s voice stopped her. ‘I like you calling me Mummy Babs.’

  Flo froze. Then, without turning round, whispered, ‘I do too.’

  Only when she was back in bed did Flo realise there were tears in her eyes. She’d never had a close relationship with her own mum. If only she felt as close to her blood mother as she did to Babs. She picked up her mobile and scrolled through her texts until she got to the last one sent by the Commander:

  Have those pirates got my pieces of eight?

  The ‘pirates’ were the Millers. The ‘pieces of eight’ the gold.

  Flo knew she faced a life-changing dilemma. Jen getting shot had changed everything. Jen was her flesh and blood. Her sister. She wanted to smash the bastards who had shot her. Plus, what Flo hadn’t factored in was coming under Babs Miller’s maternal spell. Babs dolled out kisses and hugs like they were going out of fashion, something Flo had never had in her life. Her granddad was an old rogue not a substitute parent. Her real mum a waste of space. It was never said but when her mum looked at her she had that glint in her eye that stated loud and clear Flo was the spit of her father, the man who had conned her into marriage. Who would’ve thought that coming to live on some poxy estate in Mile End she’d have found the family she’d always craved.

  But she desperately loved the Commander too. What was she going to do?

  Flo dry swallowed two of Babs’ Annies.

  Then texted her Gramps back:

  Think I’ve found your pieces of eight.

  40

  ‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’ Babs asked her granddaughter the following morning.

  Courtney nodded as she sat at the breakfast table next to her sister. Although Babs had been grateful for Flo’s pick-me-up talk and giving her a shoulder to cry on she still hadn’t got much kip last night. Dee would come to her senses; she had to. Her girl would soon find out her dad was a no-good user in the same mould as Stanley Miller.

  Of course, Stan and Neville knew each other; two peas in a criminal pod. A couple of cheap crooks. Successful ones admittedly, but crooks none the less. She must’ve been giving off some kinda ‘dumb girl’ scent when she was younger; how else could she have attracted so many creeps? So fucking what if Neville was Pearl’s brother and they were playing the Big I Am, spouting off about wanting the gold. They were going to be mightily disappointed; she didn’t have it. And as for those two wearing pink…well, she’d seen better enforcers on Danger Mouse.

  Babs put her troubles behind her – for now – and gazed at the slap up brekkie she’d put on for her grandkids. Their plates were arranged in smiley faces – poached eggs eyes, sausage eyebrows, tomato nose and bacon mouth. Only problem was Courtney and Little Bea weren’t smiling. Plus, they were picking at their plates.

  Babs plonked down in a chair and sighed. It was silly trying to pretend everything was normal and she knew it and that’s why she quietly asked Courtney, ‘You sure it’s the right time to go back to school?’

  Courtney lowered her washout eyes as her slim fingers tightened round her fork. ‘I can’t keep going to the ozzie.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  All the troubles of the world showed up on Babs’ face again. Where was a magic wand when you needed it? A bit of abracadabra to make her grandbabies smile again? Aww, wouldn’t that be a blessing.

  ‘Don’t you wanna see your mum?’

  Courtney raised her head slowly. She rubbed her lips fretfully together. ‘But what if I’m there and she dies?’

  Babs’ heart thundered in her chest. ‘No. That’s not gonna happen. The only
place your mum’s going is back home where she belongs with you and Little Bea.’

  Her gaze shifted to take in her other granddaughter and what she saw made Babs chew her bottom lip with worry. Little Bea’s real name was Sasha, but when she was small she’d been her Nanna Babs’ shadow, so one and all had started calling her Little Bea. Little Bea said nothing as she stared into space. In fact her namesake hadn’t said a word since her mum had been shot. And, come to think of it, Babs hadn’t seen her cry either: not one teardrop. That was strange, wasn’t it? Especially considering the close relationship Jen had with her. Babs shrugged. We all have our ways of dealing with things even when we’re little, so best leave Little Bea to hers.

  Babs’ lips flattened into a concerned line as she stared at the upside book next to Little Bea’s plate. She turned her head slightly sideways to catch the title:

  ‘Killers In The Night’

  Fuck me! A shiver of alarm ran down her spine. A ten-year-old reading muck like that? Especially with her mum being laid up in the ozzie with a gunshot. It wasn’t normal. She’d had it out with Jen once about the grisly tales she let her girl read and all Jen protested back was that they helped with her reading; in fact Little Bea was predicted to get a level 5 in her SATs reading test. That might be so, but Babs still didn’t approve. Her grandbaby should be reading about little ponies and princesses with golden hair. Mind you, she’d read those types books and instead of handsome prince she’d ended up with a right pair of Jekyll and Hyde frogs.

  ‘What about you hun?’ Babs broached carefully with the true crime fanatic. ‘You wanna go to school?’

  Little Bea violently shook her head, but not a word left her little mouth. Babs didn’t like this one bit. There was something wrong. Maybe she should get on the blower to that therapist lady that had ironed out Courtney last year. And Babs was good for it with the dosh from the sale of the her houses.