by Jessie Keane
No time would have been better for this one.
‘You’ll have to wait a bit,’ he said, and Lily said yeah, okay, and sat down on the sofa. Golden Balls was on, roaring away—Alice’s mother was obviously deaf as a post—and when she had been sitting there for ten minutes watching the damned thing, the son came bustling over and changed the channels, just in case she’d been enjoying it, just to make his point that she wasn’t welcome.
Point taken, thought Lily, getting tired of all this. But, finally, she was granted an audience.
She went and sat in the armchair opposite Mrs Blunt. Mrs Blunt looked at her as if she was wondering why she was here.
Yeah, thought Lily. Me too.
‘I don’t want her upset,’ said the son, removing the tea tray and going off into the kitchen with it, where he crashed the plate and cup into the sink. And fuck you too, thought Lily.
The birds sang on, irritatingly loudly
. ‘Do you let them out much?’ asked Lily, unable to stop herself. She was surprised at how distressed it made her feel, to see them caged there.
‘They don’t like to come out,’ said Mrs Blunt. ‘Do you, little ones?’ she cooed at the birds. ‘I open the door, but they don’t come out,’ she told Lily.
Lily could understand that. Inside was safe. Outside–who knew?
‘Mrs Blunt,’ she said, ‘can you tell me what happened with Alice?’
‘You won’t get any sense out of her,’ shouted the son from the kitchen.
Lily looked at Mrs Blunt. She didn’t look stupid, only old. And she had used the phone and given Lily her address with no difficulty at all.
‘Alice,’ Lily repeated clearly. ‘I went to see her.’ She hesitated, looking assessingly at the old woman. ‘Mrs Blunt, I wasn’t entirely truthful with you on the phone. I am–I mean I was–related to Leo King. I was…married to him.’
Mrs Blunt stared at her. ‘But…they said his wife shot him. She got sent down for it.’
‘I didn’t do it, Mrs Blunt.’
‘Hold on a minute.’ The son came full-speed in from the kitchen. Before Lily knew what was happening, he’d grabbed the back of her collar and hauled her out of the chair she was sitting in. Lily’s heart shot straight up into her throat with the shock of it. The budgies screeched and hurtled around the cage, flinging themselves against the bars. Feathers drifted around like a Christmas snow scene. Mrs Blunt cried out as Lily dangled, her feet off the ground.
‘You’re her, you’re that fucking psycho,’ he yelled, shaking her like a dog with a rat.
‘Malcolm!’ yapped Mrs Blunt.
He froze. Mrs Blunt was staring at him. After a tense second or two, he dropped Lily.
‘She’s a headcase,’ said Malcolm defensively.
Lily gulped and tried to get her wind back. He’d startled her badly. She sank back into the chair and kept her attention focused on the old lady.
‘That man,’ said Mrs Blunt, her gummy mouth working with emotion, ‘Leo King. He was bad. He ruined our Alice. Ruined her.’
‘Yeah,’ said the son, nodding sharply and still glaring down at Lily. ‘You’re a bad lot, all of you.’
Oh fuck me, thought Lily, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. Wouldn’t it be easier to keep a bloody Rottweiler than to have this oversized idiot about the place?
‘You were inside for years, that right?’ the son was going on, his expression sneering as he stared at Lily. ‘You done him, that’s it, right? Well–bloody good job too. Wished I’d done it myself, lots of times. He upset our Alice.’
‘And just when we thought Alice was getting on better, too,’ said Mrs Blunt. ‘What with the not-eating and everything.’
‘She was anorexic?’
Mrs Blunt’s eyes were suddenly bright with tears. ‘She went off the rails, our Alice.’
‘She was fucking mental,’ snorted the son. ‘Always was, always will be.’
And now you’re flavour of the month, right? thought Lily, glancing at him.
‘You your mum’s full-time carer?’ asked Lily.
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Nothing at all,’ Lily shrugged. Nice cosy job, no getting up for work in the mornings. Just look after your old mum, hold her like a prize trophy, because your sister was mental and you were top of the heap. Sibling rivalry with a particularly nasty edge to it.
‘Then mind your bloody own,’ he said, and went back into the kitchen.
‘She was always frail,’ Mrs Blunt went on. ‘Then she stopped eating much. Some girls teased her at school, something like that, she’d never talk about it. She was hospitalized once, she was bad with it. But then she got over that and got a job in one of his offices.’
‘Yeah, your bloody husband,’ the son chimed in from the other room.
‘And?’ prompted Lily.
‘She was mad about him. Just mad,’ said Mrs Blunt, her eyes dancing in her bony head. ‘He used to send her flowers, and posh presents; there was a gold bracelet in a little blue box…’
The Tiffany receipt, thought Lily sickly. After all these years, finally she knew who’d been the recipient of that gift. Alice Blunt. Poor, weak girl, with her head turned by a rich and powerful man.
‘Alice loved him, adored him.’ Mrs Blunt’s gummy mouth twisted in disapproval. ‘Went crazy when he told her it was over between them.’
‘How long did it go on?’ asked Lily, although it pained her to do it.
The bony shoulders shrugged. ‘Few months. But she was a highly strung girl, our Alice. She couldn’t take it.’ Suddenly the old mouth was trembling. ‘She tried to do herself in. Slit her wrists. I found her…just in time. But she was never right after that. Needed round-the-clock care. He should never have let her down like that, she couldn’t take that sort of thing.’
Lily cleared her throat. ‘Yeah, but he was married. Didn’t she know that?’
‘We don’t like you going near Alice,’ said the son, rejoining them and looming over Lily like a threat. ‘Who the fuck knows what you might do?’
‘Malcolm! Language!’ said Mrs Blunt.
‘Sorry, Ma.’ Suddenly he looked like a little boy slapped down by an adult. But immediately the truculent bruiser was back. ‘But it’s true, innit? She might want to do Alice too; she’s a nutter.’
Lily bit her tongue to keep back a sharp reply. But something had been bothering her and she was going to ask it, no matter what. ‘The clinic,’ she said.
‘Yeah? What about it?’ asked the son.
‘Who pays for Alice’s keep? It must cost a small fortune.’
He shrugged. ‘Government, I s’pose. We can’t afford it, for sure.’
But the clinic was lovely; a really nice place. Not the sort of place she’d envisage an NHS patient on her uppers being shipped to indefinitely.
She looked at the son, and wondered. Wondered just how far he would go to please the mother and gain her approval. Wondered if Mrs Blunt had said at the time: Look, son, he’s upset our Alice, upset her bad, what are you going to do about it? She’d have been looking at him all pleading and cunning, knowing how to manipulate, knowing which buttons to press. And did he then charge out into the night, bent on revenge, and kill Leo?
But there’d been no break-in. The alarm system hadn’t been breached. So…had Leo let the son in, had Leo in fact known Malcolm, since he knew Alice?
She stood up. Felt so tired that she couldn’t bear to think about it any more.
‘Thanks for seeing me, Mrs Blunt,’ she said, and went to the door, the son dogging her heels.
‘I don’t want you coming back here,’ he hissed in her ear as she opened the door.
Lily opened the door and paused there, looking out at the rain.
‘Yeah, but you know what? We don’t always get what we want,’ she said, and walked off down the path to the waiting taxi.
32
That evening Freddy King was sitting at the bar in Kings, the family club. He was seriously pissed o
ff at what Jase was telling him.
‘No one’s seen the little fucker for a while. We put the word out like you said, but no one knows a damned thing,’ said Jase, eyeing Freddy warily.
Freddy the Freak, he was called among some of the boys. Jase wasn’t one of those. Careless Talk Costs Lives was his motto. He knew Freddy could blow at a moment’s notice and take your fucking head off, and he wouldn’t want that, not when things had been starting to look so rosy.
Also, there was Si. Treated with even more deference by Jase. For obvious reasons. But now there was this thing with the door. Si was talking about a new system, a little experiment where one person ran the door for a fortnight, then another person took over. Jase on first shift, and then–and then–Brendan Gibbs.
That was the worst blow of all. Jase knew of Brendan Gibbs. All the boys did. Brendan Gibbs had a reputation around town as the hardest of hard nuts. Brendan was a thinker, like Jase. He was no brain-dead mound of muscle like some of the guys were. And now Jase was wondering, was this a quiet way of edging him out, off the scene? Was this what they called the thin end of the cunting wedge?
If it was, where the fuck did that leave him? He felt affronted. He had always done a good job on the door, tossed out the unlicensed dealers, protected the ones who were in the club on Si’s say-so. He’d restricted the numbers of partying masses coming in to a couple of hundred max, and he’d turned down a fortune in bribes from punters wanting to jump the mile-long queues outside or be sneaked round the back.
Jase was starting to get an uneasy feeling. He felt he was being disciplined. But for what? For getting in good with Oli? Jesus, was Si saying that he, Jase, wasn’t good enough to mix with his niece? Because if so, Jase was going to have to do a major rethink. He’d thought he was a contender for the future throne, had felt that Si liked him and was grooming him for success. But maybe he’d misread the signals.
Of course he had contingency plans. He’d been at Oli night and day, shagging her brains out, and he knew she wasn’t on the Pill. Oli was sweet, eager to please; he’d had her doing things that her dear old uncle Si would have been shocked at. Early on, he would have worn a condom if she’d insisted (although he’d have cooked up some excuse to phase it out), but she was so fucking grateful for his attention, she’d been making cow-eyes at him for months before he made his move, so he knew he had the upper hand there and he had formulated a brilliant plan, and so he’d said right from the start, no condoms, he hated the damned things.
So he was having himself a real shag-fest with Oli–and a few others, of course, that went without saying–and wearing nothing but a smile. Oli was so obliging. Sucked him off, tried anal, anything, but she liked missionary the best and that was good, because that was when a woman really took it on board, wasn’t that right? On her back was best, and anyway he liked doing her that way, splayed her legs wide open, tucked a little pillow under her hips, kept her there, pumping away at her while she moaned with pleasure, then bang and off the little swimmers went to do their good work. He always tried to give her an orgasm just as he came himself; that helped get them up there, apparently. He’d read up on it. Wanted to get it right.
One of these days he was going to score a direct hit–if he hadn’t already. She was going to be up the duff with his kid soon, she had to be. And Uncle Si might rant and rave for a bit, but then Jase would tell him how much in love they were, him and Oli, and he’d have Oli talk to her Aunt Maeve, crying buckets all over the ugly old mare, and then it would be wedding bells and he would be inside the inner sanctum, really on the firm. He’d been working towards that ever since he came out of school and started kicking off, wearing the old claret and blue scarf on the terraces at Upton Park when West Ham were playing. That was how he’d come to the attention of Si’s boys, that and a little National Front demo work. It was time he moved forward and up. He was ready. But now, this. This little thing that didn’t quite fit right with him. This feeling that he was being slapped down.
‘There’s been a bit of trouble on the door,’ said Jase now as Freddy threw back a stiffener.
‘So? It’s your door. Sort it. Ain’t that what we pay you for?’
Freddy was on a downer. All his boys were telling him that Tiger Wu had vanished into the ether. They didn’t know where or how or any damned thing, they knew fuck-all–and all Freddy knew was that the little cunt had six and a half grand of his money in his pocket for a job that would never be done, and that made him seriously annoyed. If he got hold of Tiger any time soon, that greasy bastard was going to be eating through a straw for a month.
Meanwhile, there was Lily King. Who’d been out of stir no time at all and had already moved back into the house, into his dead brother’s house, after doing a measly twelve years for offing him. It just wasn’t good enough. All very well for Si to say, wait, give it time, but Freddy didn’t want to and by Christ he wasn’t going to either.
The club was filling up–their club, his and Si’s. It was a fantastic club and it easily rivalled the Ministry of Sound over in Gaunt Street. Poor fucking Leo had never seen it really take off, but they had, him and Si: it was a great place. Strobes whirling and lots of raving punters jigging along to the DJ’s mixes, dropping a little E to get them in the mood, buying high-priced drinks, the place had a real good vibe. And now, what was Jase saying, that he was having trouble on the door?
‘Fuck’s sake, Jase,’ snarled Freddy when Jase hovered there, seeming not to want to drop it. ‘Get the sodding hell on with it. That’s your job.’
Jase had thought he was on top of it. As Head of Security in the club, he was in a position of trust, but could he trust Si in return?
He’d dealt with Si honestly. Well, honestly in business. Granted, he was shagging himself senseless with Oli, but who wouldn’t, given the opportunity? But in business, he had played it straight down the line. Now Si was playing silly buggers.
It wasn’t on.
Jase was fuming. He thought maybe Freddy might drop a word in Si’s ear, if he spoke to him in the right way. He decided to try it.
‘It’s just that I don’t like this rotation plan, Mr King,’ he said. ‘Not at all. I built up this team of boys: they’re the business. And that’s my door.’
Freddy looked at Jase in disgust. ‘Look, fuck your door, sonny,’ he snapped, coming up off the stool and glaring into Jase’s eyes.
Steady, thought Jase. Freddy was built like a tank; he didn’t want to start anything with him.
‘Why don’t you piss off and make yourself useful?’ said Freddy, pushing a meaty digit into Jase’s chest. ‘Go and see to your frigging door, boy. Or go and find me Tiger fucking Wu, that tosser. Or better still–go and do that bitch Lily for me, okay?’
Jase went up to the office after that. Better talk to the organ grinder, not the bloody monkey. Si was there behind the desk. Jase was a tough, fit young bastard, but seeing Si always gave him the squits. Si was sitting there like a brick outhouse, staring at him as he knocked and came in–staring at him with that cold, unblinking gaze he knew so well. There was something almost reptilian about Si. The stillness there was about him–but then when he moved, when he struck, he struck fast.
‘What’s up, Jase?’ he asked, not looking very interested.
‘Mr King,’ said Jase, his voice sounding high-pitched and breathless. ‘I wanted to say…well, you know me. I’m a good worker. That’s my door. I’ve done a good job on it, wouldn’t you say?’
Si stared at him with that flat gaze. Then he sat back in his chair and stared some more.
‘Yeah,’ he said at last. ‘I’d say you done good, Jase.’
‘Then why the change, Mr King? The boys told me about Brendan being moved in, the new shift arrangement. Me on for a fortnight, then him…well, it can’t work that way. That’s my door.’
Si stared blankly at Jase until he started to fidget. ‘Sorry,’ Jase added, aware that he had raised his voice to Si King, and you didn’t do that. Not if you were fo
nd of living. But he was pumped up on steroids, bursting with aggression. Right now, he felt he could kill Si King with his bare hands–fucking around with his door, for God’s sake–and enjoy doing it too. Still, he tried to swallow his rage. Tried to hold it down.
‘It’s just a thought,’ said Si, with an easy shrug. ‘We like to try new things, adjust the system now and then.’
‘But I…’
‘Brendan’s a good man,’ said Si.
‘I don’t know him. I know of him, everyone does,’ said Jase, feeling his temper building to dangerous levels. ‘But look, Mr King. Straight up. The door’s mine. The boys I got working it are my team.’
‘Correction,’ said Si, ‘they’re my team. They are in my employ. Just like you are.’
Jase clenched his fists. He’d worked like a slave to get that door operating smoothly. He knew what this was about. Bloody Si. All his hopes and dreams, everything he’d planned for, was crashing around his ears, he just knew it. Si was shutting him out. Out of the firm, out of Oli’s life, out of the family.
‘This is about Oli, ain’t that right?’ he blurted out.
‘Oli?’ Si’s expression didn’t change.
‘Yeah, you’re slapping me down ‘cos you don’t want me and her together.’
‘Jase, Jase,’ said Si, gently shaking his head. ‘Whatever makes you think such a thing?’
But Jase was right. He knew it.
He unpinned his security tag and threw it onto the desk.
‘Fuck this then,’ he said. ‘I’m gone. I resign.’
Now Si King would weaken. Jase knew it. He was a good worker, the best.
‘No, you ain’t resigning,’ said Si. ‘Because I’ve just fired you. Clear off out of it, you little shit.’
33
Next morning the builder was in, repairing the damage Lily had done to the wall behind the bed in the master suite. Lily made him a cup of tea and took it in to him. Oli watched from the door and, as Lily turned back towards her, she could see that Oli’s eyes were all over the place, darting around the room as if it might contain some horrible gremlin that might pounce on her in an instant.