BETRAYED

by Jacqui Rose

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You’ve lost your hearing now have you? That would make sense, ’cos you never listen to anything I say.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Del raised his voice between more lines of quiver. He knew he shouldn’t be getting arsey with Bunny, but what with being up all night thinking about his bloody wife and the charge of the coke running through his bloodstream he couldn’t help himself, no matter how much he tried.

  ‘I’m talking about you. You and your flipping pig-headedness. It does my fucking nut in, Bun. All your secrets.’

  ‘Secrets?’

  ‘Yeah, never wanting to tell me anything about what’s going on in that bonce of yours. Always shutting me out. Well I’m sick of it and I’m not having it, you hear me?’

  Bunny got up and walked to the balcony, looking out at the magnificent view across the dazzling Mediterranean Sea. She didn’t like to argue with Del. They got on so well most of the time, arguing was rare. Though when they did fight, they had an established pattern – Del would blow off steam, stomping and crashing about and she would just listen, knowing eventually he’d calm down. But as she listened to him now, still hurt from what had happened the night before, he began to irritate her. ‘My pig-headedness? You want to look in the bloody mirror, Del. Maybe you might see some home truths staring back at you.’

  ‘The only home truth around here is the fact you don’t do as you’re told.’

  Bunny threw her head back and laughed. It pissed him off no end, not just because he hated how the argument was going but also, Bunny looked stunning, dressed casually in a plain t-shirt and cut-off shorts without a scrap of make-up on. Whether it was the effects of the quiver or not he was beginning to get a hard-on, which made everything even more frustrating.

  ‘“Do as I’m told”? What am I Del, a child?’

  ‘You might as well be; you act like one.’

  Bunny’s blue eyes opened wide. ‘I do?’

  ‘Yes, you fucking do, darlin’. The only reason you won’t give up your work is because I’ve asked you. You like seeing me get pissed off over it.’

  ‘Oh drop me out, Del.’

  ‘No, ’cos I know what you’re doing. You’ve been rumbled, doll. Ain’t it every woman’s goal to make their man jealous? Ain’t it?’ Del paused dramatically, then opened his arms wide as he continued to rant. ‘Well, babe. Well done, ’cos you’ve achieved your goal. I’m jealous. Fucking riddled with it. So now you know you can stop the spoilt little girl act and give up yer fucking job!’

  Del shouted the last part then stared at Bunny, knowing that what he was saying sounded ridiculous, but as he heard his own irritation grow, so did his anger. He leaned in towards her.

  ‘Now the truth’s out. You can drop it, Bun. Give it up, ’cos I ain’t standing for it no more. I ain’t standing for me missus getting shagged day after day by someone other than me.’

  As he spoke, images of Bunny with other men flashed into Del’s mind. He turned away from her and smashed his hand into the wall.

  The pain shot through him. ‘See! See what you’re doing to me, Bun. Is this what you want? I don’t think you’ll be happy until I clump some punter and end up killing them, will you? That’s it, ain’t it? I get locked up, then you’re free to do what you like. Fuck as many men as you want.’

  It was Bunny’s turn to shout. ‘Stop it, Del! Stop it! We’re both tired. Let’s stop.’

  ‘Why should I stop it, ’cos I’m on a roll now, baby? Oh there’s no stopping me, just like when I ask you to stop anything, you won’t. But now all of a sudden you want me to stop. Well no can do, babe.’

  Bunny put her head down, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘You don’t get it. You’ll never get it. It’s not about you, I keep telling you that. There’s nothing wrong with you or us. It’s me Del, me. So leave it.’

  ‘Oh you’d like that. For me to leave it and turn a blind eye. Well sorry, doll. It stops right now.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting about how I met you?’

  Del laughed ruefully, hating himself as he spoke. ‘How could I forget? It’s almost like you’re proud of what you are.’

  ‘I am who I am.’

  ‘How frigging noble of you, Bun. Is that what you’ll be saying to Star? I am who I am? You seem that comfortable with it I’m surprised you haven’t thought about pimping her out yet, but I guess it’s only a matter of time before you try.’

  Bunny’s blood ran cold. She gripped onto the side of the white drinks cabinet and spoke through clenched teeth. ‘Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever say that to me again or I swear to God, Del, it’ll be the last time you ever see me.’

  ‘Too close to the bone, doll? Did I rumble you? Put paid to those long-term plans of yours? Were you hoping to have a mother-daughter thing going on to attract the punters?’

  The sting in Del’s cheek from Bunny’s slap lasted long after the argument had finished, but as Del stood looking at Bunny’s tears, watching her throw her clothes into her bag and collect up her purse and passport, he was driven on not by the physical pain but the emotional one.

  ‘Goodbye Del.’ Bunny opened the bedroom door and walked out without glancing back.

  Del rushed to call her back, wanting to hold her in his arms, wanting to tell her he loved her and that he was sorry, but his anger and hurt made him call out words he knew he was going to regret for the rest of his life. ‘That’s it. Go! Go on Bunny. Go back to London. Fuck off back to where you came from. What do they say? You can take the whore out of the gutter but you can’t take the whore out of the girl.’

  It was definitely her. The whore. The bunny rabbit. Edith scowled as she looked across at Bunny as they sat in the first-class section of the plane. She’d thought it was her at the check-in at Marbella airport, with her long blonde hair, showing off her body as if it was a display cabinet. The last thing she wanted was to sit within smelling distance of Del’s bit on the side, but she hadn’t had much choice. The next flight wasn’t leaving till tomorrow and they’d informed her there wasn’t even a first-class section on that flight, which had made up Edith’s mind.

  Finishing off her neat gin and deciding she needed another, Edith took a sneaky peek at Bunny. She sniffed haughtily as she inspected her. She could imagine a lot of people would try to tell her Bunny was beautiful with her soft features, big blue eyes and pouting lips. Well that was them. Edith wouldn’t. She looked cheap. Obvious. Who wanted a toned size ten body anyway? Men liked to grab hold of something. They liked a little bit of sirloin on their women. Like the kind of body she had. She’d never had any complaints. Oh yes, Edith could give the likes of Bugs Bunny a run for her money any day.

  Laying back and stuffing a large handful of salted peanuts into her mouth, Edith smiled, imagining what Del would say if he knew she was about to go and plan his ultimate demise with an old acquaintance and lover of hers. Detective Teddy Davies.

  24

  He was lagging. Slaughtered. Pissed. And it didn’t take the empty bottle of Hennessy by the side of the sun lounger to tell him that. His head swam, his vision was blurred and he didn’t know what the fuck time it was. Furthermore, he didn’t give a fuck either.

  Del rolled onto his side and snorted some cocaine off a tiny marble table beside him. The quiver hit a home run but it wasn’t enough for him to forget. He needed to get Bunny’s face out of his mind – but more than anything else, he needed to get the last words he’d said to her out of his mind.

  ‘Boss. Boss?’

  Del paused. He could hear someone talking but he couldn’t quite work out where the voice was coming from. Fuck it. He took another line, clenching his teeth as the coke exploded into his bloodstream. He could feel his heart working overtime but he could also hear the voice again.

  ‘Boss?’

  Shit. The voice was coming from above him. Del turned his body round. His head swayed from side to side and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t manage to keep i
t still. It was almost as if the damn thing had been loosened from his neck and any moment now it was going to roll straight off his body.

  Giving up on trying to stop his head from moving, Del attempted to prevent his eyes darting around.

  ‘Boss?’

  Christ. There it was again. Focus. He had to try to focus. There. Right in front of him. There was someone standing there. Del opened his eyes wider, but it only resulted in him raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Boss?’ Alfonso Garcia stared at Del lying on the sun lounger. He curled his lip. The great Del Williams, the man most men feared, lying incoherent, sprawled out in the midday sun. He was a joke.

  A thought passed through Alfonso’s mind. How easy it would be to take Del out here and now. The man was in no fit state to defend himself. He was an utter mess. But to do anything to him would be like signing his own death warrant. Del’s men were crawling all over the place, so for now all he could do was wait for Edith to be in touch.

  ‘Yeah? What do you want? Is Bunny back?’

  Del slurred his words to nobody in particular as he picked up and looked at the empty bottle of cognac.

  ‘Pardon, Boss?’ Alfonso couldn’t make out what Del was trying to say.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said pardon, Boss.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Sorry Boss.’ Alfonso hadn’t a clue what Del had just said.

  ‘Why are you sorry? I should be the one who’s sorry. She’ll never forgive me.’

  ‘I can’t understand. I’m sorry … I …’

  Del roared loudly. ‘I told you, I’m the one who’s supposed to be sorry, not you pal. So don’t you dare say sorry. It ain’t got nothing to do with you, unless you’ve been fucking her too.’

  Alfonso scratched his head. He was always lumbered with the shitty jobs – and having to deal with an inebriated Del Williams was almost as bad as it got.

  After a moment of trying to think of what was best, Alfonso decided just to say what he was supposed to, hoping it might get through.

  ‘Boss, I’m here to tell you we’ve got to go and meet the consignment. We’ve just had a call from the boat; it’ll be in the bay in under an hour, so if you want to meet them at the warehouse then we’ll have to set off now.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you just fucking say that in the first place?’

  Alfonso shook his head as he listened, still not understanding what Del was trying to say. The other thing he didn’t know was if Del had understood him. If he hadn’t, Alfonso certainly didn’t fancy getting blamed for Del falling back to sleep and missing meeting the drugs drop.

  With a sigh of resignation, Alfonso bent down and wrapped Del’s arms round his neck, pulling him up from the sun lounger. As he walked from the pool area into the villa with the weight of Del leaning on him, Alfonso decided that between both Edith and Del he would’ve earned every single penny that was coming to him.

  Two hours later, Del stood swaying on the sun-baked hilltops of Marbella, another bottle of cognac in hand and a large unlit cigar in his mouth. His men looked at him with concern on their faces. They’d never seen him like this before. He was a man who usually liked to be in control.

  They nodded sympathetically when they caught his eye, knowing exactly what had happened with Bunny and Edith. They liked him. Respected him. Del was a good boss, a good man and he treated them fairly.

  Eventually it was Fat Man Burke who walked up to Del. Seeing Del in such a state, he sighed, grateful his own missus was in the ground. Women were too much gut ache. They could bring down the hardest of men; hell, they could bring down a fucking nation. He didn’t know why Del didn’t just do what he did – fuck them and keep them at arm’s length. And the moment you started to feel something for them, that was the moment you had to jog them on. Though in fairness to Del he’d seen Bunny and he could understand why he’d want to keep that bit of pussy all to himself. But to fuck other women off? And put all his bollocks in one basket and get his heart involved? That was Del’s mistake.

  Fat Man Burke stood next to Del. He opened his mouth to say something to Del, but instantaneously started coughing and spluttering as a midge flew into his mouth. ‘Fucking hell. What sort of a frigging hell hole is this? What I wouldn’t give to go back to England.’

  Del was still swaying. He turned to face Fat Man, almost losing his balance. ‘Even your freedom, Burkey?’

  ‘What?’ Fat Man frowned. He couldn’t understand a word Del had just said. He was more mangled up than he thought. Shit. They were about to do business with the Russians and there was Del out of his fucking tree.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, Del. You need to get a grip mate. They’ll be here soon and how the hell are you going to deal with them?’

  Del scowled. Or he thought he did. He couldn’t quite tell what his face was doing. It seemed he had no control over his movements. Plus it wasn’t helping that he wanted to take a piss.

  ‘Listen, Burkey. One thing you ain’t telling me is how to run my business. I run it. Not you. I was the one who set up the deal with Milo, so leave me to finish it.’

  ‘Christ, Del. If I can’t understand what you’re saying, no Russian monkey will.’ Fat Man glared at Del, then snatched the bottle of cognac out of his hands. ‘I’ll take that. Go and lie down in one of the cars. Get some sleep.’

  ‘Fine, Burkey, but make sure you wake me up when they come.’

  Fat Man Burke watched Del staggering over to one of the bulletproof Range Rovers, not having understood a word he’d just said.

  * * *

  The dust clouds on the horizon told Fat Man Burke that the Russians were coming. Through his Leica Duovid binoculars he watched the large convoy of Cadillac Escalades making their way up the twisting off-road tracks. If they wanted to be discreet, they were going about it the wrong way. The clouds of Spanish dust billowed high into the blue skies, visible for miles around.

  ‘The reds are coming!’ Fat man shouted at Del’s men, preparing them for the Russian arrival.

  ‘What about the boss?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Should I wake him?’

  Fat Man looked across at the Range Rovers parked by the side of the derelict whitewashed outbuildings. He could see Del’s feet sticking out from the driver’s side as he lay sprawled deep in sleep across the two front seats. He wasn’t sure what he should do. If he woke Del, he’d probably be in no fit state to deal with anyone, but if he didn’t, he’d miss the handover. Still, it was only a handover. And surely he would’ve said if he’d wanted to be woken up? What harm was there to leave him to sleep? All the negotiations had already been done. It was only a question of exchanging money for drugs now. Turning back to Del’s henchmen, Fat Man belched then answered confidently, ‘No. Leave him. It’ll do him good to sleep it off.’

  Fifteen minutes later, the convoy of Cadillacs carrying the Russians – along with the kilos of uncut cocaine – arrived at the top of the hill, to be greeted by a wall of Del’s men, with Fat Man at the front.

  Fat Man rubbed the front of his teeth with his tongue. He had no idea why Del had wanted to deal with the Russians. Okay, they were slightly cheaper and the supply chain of cocaine was reliable, but when it boiled down to it they were foreigners. Stick to your own was his philosophy.

  The one guy Fat Man had a problem with in particular was the main face. Milo Burkov. He’d only met him twice when he’d come over to Marbella to have meetings about a consignment of heroin they were pulling out of Morocco, but both times he’d detested him.

  Milo had a fondness for speaking in Russian to his men, which pissed Burkey off no end. They all knew how to speak English perfectly well and each time it happened it’d made him feel uncomfortable, as if he they were mugging him off. Ripping the piss out of them whilst they sat there like a bunch of muppets, not knowing what was going on. Nope, he didn’t like that at all, and it only added to Fat Man’s distrust of all things that weren’t draped in a St George’s cross.

 
; Trouble was, he was only putting in ten per cent of the money – which ultimately meant he had no say in who they dealt with.

  Watching the Russians step out of their cars, dressed identically in dark t-shirts and dark trousers along with the obligatory Ray-Bans, Fat Man blew out his cheeks in frustration before muttering, ‘twats’ under his breath, making himself feel slightly better.

  ‘Burkey my friend, it’s good to see you again.’

  Fat Man Burke stared at the Russian. As far as he was aware he’d never seen this bloke before, but then to him all foreigners looked the same.

  ‘No Milo?’

  ‘No. Milo’s otherwise engaged. No Del?’

  ‘No. Del’s otherwise engaged.’ Fat Man held his smile for a moment before deciding fuck it and scowling instead at the tall well-built Russian. ‘Right then, let’s get on with it. Are we going to do this thing or not?’

  The Russian turned to his men. He shouted, waving his hand. ‘Ну, давайте это отсортированы. Спешите и получить вещи из машины.’

  There it was again. That fucking foreign shit. Well, he wasn’t going to stand for it. ‘Oi mate, keep that bollocks to yourself. What the hell did you say to him? Come on, I want to know what you said about me.’

  The Russian looked at Fat Man in surprise as his men walked past carrying crate-loads of individually wrapped kilos of cocaine.

  ‘Fat Man Burke. I can call you that can’t I?’

  The snarl from Burke said everything. He ran at the Russian, stopping short of putting his clenched fist in his face. He held it millimetres from the man’s cheek. ‘Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?’

  The Russian, six inches taller and several inches wider, casually moved the fist away, closing his own round Fat Man’s.

  ‘My friend, I would be careful whose face you waved that fist into.’

  Burkey was shaking with anger. He spat his words. ‘I want to know what you said about me.’

  The Russian put his arm round Burkey. Slightly too tightly for comfort. ‘Paranoia is a terrible thing. Let me put that English brain of yours at rest. Ну, давайте это отсортированы. Спешите и получить вещи из машины. It means, let’s get this sorted. Hurry and get the stuff out of the car … So you see Burkey, there is nothing to feel ill at ease about.’