by Jessie Keane
‘It’s here!’
Maeve looked out. The Rolls-Royce Silver Phantom, cream and decked out with white ribbons, was coming up the drive.
‘I’ll give your Uncle Si a shout,’ said Maeve, and took herself off to find him.
‘And where the hell is Oli?’ Saz shouted after her.
‘You’re not supposed to do that,’ said Oli King sternly, pushing her dark curling hair out of her eyes and ignoring the almost unbearable, palpitating heat of desire that was sweeping over her. She sneaked a look out through the stable door when she heard a motor passing. ‘And look, there’s the damned car and I’m supposed to be in there helping Saz…no, don’t do that…’
Oli was eighteen to Saz’s twenty-one, and she thought that her sister Saz had been born old. She, however, had not. She wasn’t planning on getting married, settling down, all that boring load of bollocks, not ever. She planned one day to live on the Left Bank in Paris and have a lot of lovers. Beyond that, she hadn’t planned much at all. But then…then she had met Jase.
‘Do what?’ asked Jase, his fingers busy inside the terracotta-coloured silk bodice of her bridesmaid’s dress.
‘That,’ she snapped, although the rough touch of his hands against her cool-skinned breasts and hard, urgently aroused nipples was driving her insane. ‘Stop it. Or I’ll tell Uncle Si on you.’
Jase worked for Si. Doing what, Oli was never entirely sure.
Ask no questions and you’ll be told no lies: that was the family motto. Obviously it was Jase’s motto, too, because whenever she’d tentatively skirted around the subject of what he actually did for Uncle Si, Jase was always evasive. He was
Head of Security at the family club, she knew that, but that wasn’t all he did for Si and Freddy, she just knew it. There were too many nights away, too many hushed phone calls and delivering packages, too many times when he was distracted or distant.
Jase was gorgeous, though. Curly dark hair, big shoulders, narrow laughing dark green eyes. He looked great in the morning suit he was wearing, a white carnation in the buttonhole. He’d said she looked great in the terracotta-coloured dress, too, and had promptly brought her in here and tried to get the damned thing off her.
Oli hated dresses anyway. She lived in jeans and t-shirts. High heels killed her. It was all very well for Saz, poncing about like Lady Muck, but she hated all this show. She was happier here, in the old disused stables, with Jase. If only he’d behave.
‘You’ve got fantastic tits,’ said Jase, popping one out of the top of the bodice to admire it more easily.
‘No…’ moaned Oli, but when he put his mouth to her breast, lapping the nipple with his tongue, she stopped protesting. She was absolutely smitten with Jase. She loved all this. She’d been terrified the first time, terrified and sort of flattered too. Because Jase had told her he loved her, and then he’d done it to her, and it had been her absolute first time, very quick, brutally sexual, and quite painful. And then had come the wait, the horrible, anxious wait, and the fear. I could be pregnant, she’d thought over and over, feeling sick with dread.
That was how she felt most times they did it now – sick with terror as well as desire.
‘We’ve got time for a quicky,’ said Jase, already lifting her skirts.
‘No we haven’t,’ said Oli, thinking: Oh shit, not again.
‘Yes we have.’ He nuzzled into her neck. ‘You let me last time. You liked it.’ He took her hand, stroked it over the bulge in his trousers.
Oli groaned. She felt nearly incandescent with need now. She had liked it. But they’d used no protection, nothing, and she’d been so relieved when her period had come on. She looked down. He’d unzipped himself and now he was holding his naked penis, hugely engorged and aroused, in his hand. ‘Come on, Oli. You know you want to…’
Oh, and how she wanted to. She was so lucky to have Jase for her boyfriend, she knew that. He could take his pick of the girls in their circle, but he’d chosen her, she was such a lucky girl and she didn’t want him thinking she was a complete washout; she couldn’t bear the idea of him going off her, going with one of the many others who were just waiting for their chance with him.
Sometimes in life you have to make instant choices, Oli knew that, and she was impulsive by nature, she liked to make her decisions quickly.
She made this one without any further hesitation. She tore off her knickers, leaned back, parted her legs, lifted her skirts.
‘All right. But only put it in a little bit, okay?’ She was panting.
He put it right in. Way in. She gasped as it slipped into her wetness like an eel through water. Oh, it was good.
But too quick, too quick again, leaving her throbbing, not sore but restless, unfulfilled. And afterwards she felt more sober. Her period was already late and she knew that until it came, she’d be in a state of horrible anxiety. An unplanned pregnancy didn’t figure in her Bohemian dreams of the future. Not at all.
10
The bells were ringing and so was Si King’s head as the Silver Phantom rolled up at the church, him and his lovely niece resplendent in the back, him wishing he hadn’t bothered with the pub last night. Trust Freddy to start acting up because that bitch Lily was on the loose again. Jesus, his head was throbbing. He’d have to tap Maeve up for some aspirin. She always carried a stash of supplies in her handbag.
Patience was Simon’s forte. It wasn’t Freddy’s, and it hadn’t really been Leo’s either. But Si always played the long game. And he was going to get Lily sorted, but not unless he could be one hundred per cent certain that he could fix it to look accidental. He’d been thinking about it, and he thought that maybe he could. He didn’t want to upset the girls in any way, not if it could be avoided; there was always that to be considered.
‘Now what the hell’s Oli up to? She’s going to ruin her hair,’ said Saz from behind her veil.
Si looked. Oli was outside the vestibule with Jase, one of his boys. Jase and a couple of the other security guys were acting as ushers today. She was trying on his top hat, knocking her flowered headdress askew, laughing up at him as he grinned back down at her.
Si thought that Oli’s hair was beyond ruining. It was wild, dark and curly, and nothing would tame it – a bit like Oli herself. He frowned as he gazed out at the handsome couple indulging in shameless flirtation. Maybe he ought to mark Jase’s card for him today, tell him to back off a bit. He’d been considering this for a little while; he’d noticed the play between the two of them was getting a bit more serious. Jase was a smart youngster, a good worker, but a chancer; he’d see Oli as a good ticket to advancement in the King organization and Si could tell that he was working the old charm on his gullible niece like a pro. Yeah, definitely time to have a word. Didn’t want the silly little git getting Oli up the duff or anything drastic like that. Then he’d really have to step in, and Jase would be sorry.
‘She looks beautiful,’ Si said smoothly to his flustered niece.
‘She looks tatty, just like she always does,’ fretted Saz.
‘She looks lovely, and so do you. Now relax. Enjoy the day.’
The vicar was standing just inside the porch now. Jase had gone back inside.
Smart move, you little arsehole, thought Si, his headache making him irritable.
Oli was there by the vicar, patting her headdress back into place, rosebuds and bits of greenery tumbling out of it, her expression one of extreme innocence as she smiled over at her uncle and sister. Looking like butter wouldn’t melt. Si wasn’t fooled. Saz was cool; Oli was the hot one. He guessed that Saz’s Richard wasn’t in for much fun tonight, but if he’d been marrying Oli, it would have been quite another story.
The uniformed chauffeur was opening the car door.
‘Well, here we go,’ said Si, and gallantly helped his niece alight from the car. ‘Time to get married, young Saz.’
It was a lovely ceremony. Everyone said so. All the mob boys and their wives were there, decked out in their best. The
church was overflowing with cream floral arrangements to match Saz’s dress, and when she walked up the aisle there were audible gasps from among the guests, she looked so astonishingly beautiful. Many of them thought, so like Lily, but they would never have said that aloud. Some things you just didn’t mention, not on a day like today. Not unless you wanted to get your teeth back in an ashtray from one of the King boys. The Kings were crim royalty, you didn’t upset them, it wasn’t wise.
Richard stood at the altar, beaming with pride as Saz walked towards him. His smile remained all through the reading of the vows, which he stumbled over endearingly. But Si – and Oli – caught the slight frown of irritation on Saz’s brow as he did that.
Little Miss Perfect, thought Oli. Jesus, Saz was such a spoiled madam.
Maeve stood there beside Si and watched the whole thing with a tear in her eye. She’d caught the frown too. She knew Saz had been spoiled, far more so than Oli, because Saz had been more affected by what had happened all those years back. She’d been older; she’d understood more of what was going on. And so Maeve had tried doubly hard to help the little girl come to terms with her loss. Tried to give her as normal a life as she could.
Then came the signing of the register, and the newly married couple emerged from the vestry looking so happy.
‘She’ll have his bollocks on a skewer before the year’s out,’ muttered Freddy King to his mate.
Richard was a quiet guy who did small jobs for Si and Freddy; he was a good worker, but needed to grow a backbone. You only had to look at Saz King to see she was a ball-breaker extraordinaire. Gorgeous, though. But Saz’s mum was a nut job. How far could the apple really fall from the tree?
Organ music was echoing around the church and now the couple were walking back down the aisle, smiling at their friends and relatives, Saz looking as stately as a queen, nodding around at the sea of faces like a ham actor taking plaudits.
‘How long do you give it?’ hissed Freddy.
His mate shrugged. ‘Six months? Maybe nine if she drops a sprog quick.’
Saz and Richard went out into the sunshine, the guests piling out behind them, throwing confetti. Saz was giggling and picking bits of multicoloured paper out of her hair when she saw the figure standing nearby, very still, just watching.
The woman standing there had Saz’s own face, but it was calmer, sterner, older but no less beautiful. She was shabbily dressed in a creased and rumpled cream linen suit that fitted where it touched. It looked as though it had been made for someone a foot taller than her, and it hung around her like a shroud. She was perched on high white stiletto heels that had sunk into the grass and were now muddy from the soft earth. Her blonde hair was scraped back into a careless ponytail. She wore no make-up.
Saz froze. The woman smiled slightly. Saz went sheet-white.
Richard was looking at her, wondering what had happened.
She’d gone from laughing to dead-faced and looking on the verge of fainting away, all in the space of seconds.
‘Saz? What’s up, sweetheart?’
‘Oh my God,’ mumbled Saz, clutching at her throat, looking like she might actually throw up.
‘What…?’ Oli had come forward, wondering what sort of drama-queen act her big sis was putting on now, Jase trailing behind her. Si and Maeve came out, chattering and smiling, and then abruptly the chattering and smiling ceased, and the only sound was the bells ringing, and even that sound was no longer cheerful and joyous. Now the bells sounded like death knells: ominous, threatening.
‘Jesus, it’s her,’ hissed a woman in the crowd.
The whole party stood stock-still and looked at the woman standing there, her eyes full of desperate love, her face naked with longing as she looked at the beautiful bride, the stunning bridesmaid.
Lily felt tears start in her eyes as she looked at them. Her girls! Her lovely girls!
Oh God – they were so grown up! But she knew them; she still knew them. And they knew her, she could see it in their eyes. But…they didn’t look happy to see her. It hurt so bad, to see the horror and the…yes, the disgust on those beloved faces. But she was going to get over that. She would have to do hard work, win them over, make it all right again. They thought – they had been duped into believing that she had killed their father. Somehow, she was going to have to show them that it wasn’t true. That she was still their mother, that she loved them.
Tentatively, she started forward. She could see Si King and his wife Maeve standing a little behind Saz, and Freddy was there, staring at her with hatred in his eyes. Well of coursehe hated her, he thought she’d done it, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t. Somehow she was going to show them all, prove it to them.
Somehow.
She walked forward, her heart thudding in her chest like a bass drum. Her hands were clammy. Becks’s high heels were too big for her and the pointed heels kept sticking in the ground, so she staggered slightly, but she kept that faint smile on her face, determined to reassure her girls, not to frighten them. No, she would never do that, but she had to make them see that she was still their mum, she still loved them.
Saz shrank back as Lily approached.
Abruptly the bells stopped pealing and the silence was shocking. Lily stopped walking and stood there, two paces away from her daughters, her eyes going from one to the other, a tear slipping down her face as she looked at them with an expression of hope and wonderment.
‘My beautiful girls,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’
Saz moved suddenly, startling everybody. With a shriek, she hit Lily with the huge and exquisite bouquet she was carrying. Cream roses flew, pulled loose by the impact. Lily fell back, raising an arm to shield herself, her expression almost comical with hurt and bewilderment. Saz hit her again, and again. Trying to protect herself, Lily saw Oli make a half-gesture towards Saz, maybe to get her to stop, maybe to help her beat her own mother, Lily didn’t know. She staggered back, hobbling, one heel catching in the turf. Ignominiously, she fell, pitching backwards onto the ground, all the wind knocked out of her.
‘Murderess!’ yelled Saz as Richard tried to hold her back.
‘Jesus, Saz, stop it,’ he said, his face a mixture of embarrassment at his new wife’s behaviour, and disbelief that she should have the brass neck to show up on a day like this.
‘I won’t stop it! She killed him! She killed my dad!’ Now Saz was sobbing, struggling, still trying to reach Lily, still trying to inflict damage.
Trembling, Lily knelt up on the muddy turf. Her hands were dirty; there was a smear of mud on Becks’s linen dress. She got to her feet and found that one of the heels on the white shoes had snapped. She hobbled lopsidedly, a pathetic figure before a huge crowd of hate-filled onlookers.
Lily swallowed and swiped at her eyes, leaving a trail of mud on her cheek. She could take hatred from the others, but from her own girls? From Oli? From Saz? But that was what was written clearly on their faces. They hated her.
Now her eyes were searching the crowds, seeing the expressions that were a mixture of horror and obscene delight. Some of these bitches would be dining out for a month on this day. No doubt about that. She saw Maeve there, not far behind Saz, looking oddly triumphant, and there was Freddy, looking at her as though he would like to slit her open right now. Looking at her as if she was a marked woman, living on borrowed time. Which she was. She knew she was, but she didn’t much care. Doing stir got you like that. You just got through it. Somehow, she had. And now all she cared about was proving to her girls that she was not their father’s killer. Anything else, she didn’t give a toss.
Then she realized that she could no longer see Si in the crowds. Anxiety was suddenly gnawing at Lily’s innards. Lily had always thought Si was like one of those big spiders you see sometimes on your bedroom wall – so long as you could see where he was, you felt okay. Worried, but okay.But when Si slipped out of sight, you had to wonder now what the hell’s he up to? Si was all secrets an
d schemes. Freddy would be dangerous if he had half a brain, but at least he’d always come straight out with it. Si was the true danger.
She shouldn’t have come here. Becks had been right. She was aware of how shabby she looked, wearing ill-fitting borrowed clothes and shoes. She knew she’d been so long inside that she’d forgotten how to present herself to the world, how to behave. She knew she’d made a wrong move. She knew she’d have to pay for it, too.
She stood there, tears streaming down her cheeks, flinching from the look on Saz’s face, all twisted up with hatred, and her eyes came to rest on Nick O’Rourke’s face in the crowd – Leo’s best man, his best friend, his business partner. Dark hair, nearly black eyes with a hard, unforgiving expression in them. Tall and broad-shouldered and wearing a morning suit like he’d been born to it. He stared back at her, and very gently shook his head.
For God’s sake, his eyes said. What the fuck are you doing?
Lily bowed her head, defeated. She didn’t know what she was doing. That was a fact. Her own daughter had just assaulted her; she was cringing inside with hurt and horror. Saz hated her. She glanced up, looked at Oli. Against her dark hair, Oli’s face was blanched white. Her eyes were resting on her mother, but not with warmth. She was staring at Lily as she would at a deranged stranger, likely at any moment to freak out and inflict damage.
Lily thought miserably, That is exactly what I’ve done here. I’ve ruined Saz’s day, she’ll never forgive me now.
Not that there had been much chance of that anyway. But she had to try, didn’t she? Even if she’d got off to a disastrous start. Supposing she got the chance, after this?
Her eyes searched the crowds. She still couldn’t see Si. That was worrying. That was frightening.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said loudly, the words half choked with tears. ‘I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.’