BETRAYED

by Jacqui Rose

The phone clicked off.

  The warm evening breeze drifted into the sun room as Edith, Star and Del stared at each other over sticky barbeque ribs and crispy onion rings.

  ‘Would you like me to pass you some more?’ Alfonso smiled at Star as he served the dinner to Edith, who’d insisted on joining Del and Star.

  ‘Cheers.’ Star grinned. She liked Alfonso, but for some reason she could tell Alfonso didn’t like Edith. Though perhaps it was what her Dad had said before – no one liked Edith.

  Chewing on an onion ring, Star looked at her Dad. He was drinking. And when he drank, it usually meant he was worried or unhappy, sometimes even both.

  The happiness she’d felt this morning in her tummy when they’d sailed around the bay, stopping on a deserted stretch of beach, had disappeared. Star felt anxious. Sad. And she wished her mum and Claudia were there.

  Since her dad had talked to some people on the phone this afternoon, he hadn’t spoken much. And he hadn’t said anything at all to Edith. Not even when she’d plonked herself down at the table and grabbed a handful of ribs.

  After Edith had left the table, slamming her plate down as well as the door, Star went to sit on her Dad’s knee. His head lolled slightly and his eyes lacked focus as the empty 1972 vintage cognac bottle sat in front of him.

  ‘Dad, do you want to come and see how many stars we can count tonight?’

  Del’s voice slurred. ‘Not tonight, baby. I’m tired.’

  ‘You can look through my spyglass at them if you want.’

  Del stroked his daughter’s head. His eyes shut, leaving Star feeling very much alone.

  43

  Del opened one eye, trying to work out where he was; then opened the other one, hoping it’d give him some clarity. It didn’t. He lifted his head, regretting it immediately as it began to throb. He winced, seeing for the first time where he was. He was still sitting on the chair. Still in the sun room. Exactly where he’d been last night when he’d decided to drink himself into a stupor.

  Putting his head back down on the table, his phone rang. Slowly he raised himself up, cautious not to make any sudden movements. By the time he’d found the opening of his jean pocket, the phone had cut off.

  Dropping his head back down on the table with a harder bang than he’d wished for, Del closed his eyes again, only for the mobile to ring again. This time he got to it. He licked his lips, trying to take the dryness away.

  ‘Yes?’ The word broke in his throat. He coughed, trying again. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s Bunny.’

  Shit.

  Del attempted to sound awake. Awake and sober. ‘Bunny. Hey.’ The fewer words, the better.

  ‘I’d like to speak to Star.’

  Del rubbed his forehead, wiping away the cold sweat of a hangover. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Did I wake you up?’

  ‘No … no.’

  ‘You sound funny.’

  ‘Do I?’

  There was a pause on the other end as Del pulled himself up out of the chair. The whole room swam before him. He leant his weight on the table, trying to ignore the vomit that was beginning to rise in his throat.

  Bunny’s tone was cold. ‘Del, are you there?’

  ‘Yup … yup. I’m here.’

  Another pause, and then the question Del was hoping to avoid being asked. ‘Are you drunk?’

  He swallowed, closing his eyes as sweet saliva seeped into his mouth. ‘No … no.’

  Another pause.

  ‘Just put Star on.’

  ‘Okay-dokey.’

  The distance from the table to the sun room door wasn’t far, yet Del was dreading having to make the journey. Even though Bunny had refrained from saying anything else, he could sense the growing hostility on the line. Licking his parched lips again, Del spoke with great effort, his head pounding with every word.

  ‘Bun? Why don’t I call you back when I get her?’

  ‘Why, where is she?’

  Giving up and having to sit down, Del closed his eyes to try to elevate the dizziness. ‘She’s in her room. I’m on the other side of the house. I won’t be long.’ Clicking off the phone, Del rested his head back down on the table.

  A few hours later, the vibration of the phone on the table woke Del up. Shit, what time was it? Ignoring the phone, he looked at his Rolex. Three-thirty. God, he must have needed that sleep. At least he felt better than he had earlier. The caller rang off, allowing Del to look at his phone. Twelve missed calls. Ten from Bunny. She’d be chomping at the bit, but at least now if she wanted to speak to him, he’d be coherent.

  Standing up, Del waited for a second. He smiled. His hangover was gone. He had a slight headache but that was all; surprising, after how much he’d drunk.

  He walked out into the pool area, squinting, adjusting his eyes to the brightness. He clocked Edith sprawled out on the lounger under the shade of the pine trees, reading yet another glossy magazine. She looked back at him haughtily.

  ‘Star! Star!’

  Walking into the kitchen, Del grabbed an apple, the crisp, sharp taste quenching his thirst.

  ‘Star, honey.’

  Del sighed. He walked along the long cool corridors of the villa, then opened her bedroom door. ‘Star baby, your—’

  The room was empty. Del might’ve semi-recovered from his hangover but he was in no mood to chase her around.

  Del’s mood began to darken as he searched the rest of the house. He was tired and hungry. Two things that were certain to make him pissed off. ‘Have you seen Star?’

  Alfonso shook his head, turning to the other gardener working next to him, who also shook his head. Del marched round the side of the villa, through the gardens and up the outside stairs, finally returning to the pool area.

  ‘Edith, have you seen Star?’

  Edith stuffed a sweaty marshmallow into her mouth. She shook her head. ‘No.’

  Del’s heart banged in his chest. Panic rose up in his body as his men ran around the extensive grounds of the villa, calling his daughter’s name.

  ‘Sorry Boss, there’s no sign.’

  ‘There must be, she can’t have just disappeared. You know what she’s like; she’s probably hiding somewhere. Look again. Go!’

  Del shouted, watching his men exchange glances before they separated, each one going in different directions. He felt his phone vibrate. Quickly he pulled it out of his pocket, hoping it’d be Star, calling to say she could see him. Playing hide and seek as she watched, giggling.

  He looked at his phone. His hopes quickly dispelled. It was Bunny. He couldn’t answer it. Not before he’d found Star. And he would find her. Of course he would …

  It was now six-thirty p.m. and Del’s hopes of finding Star within the grounds of the villa were diminishing as quickly as his glass of whisky. With each moment, his fear rose; terror paralaysed his thoughts as he walked along the marble corridors of his villa. He called out again, partly to himself, partly desperate to continue to hold on to hope.

  ‘Star! Please. Just come out. Daddy’s tired … please, baby. I just need to know you’re okay.’

  At seven p.m. one of Del’s men spoke to him. ‘Del we need to face it. Star isn’t here. We’ve looked everywhere. We’ve turned everything upside down. There’s nowhere else to look. I’m sorry.’

  An hour later, Del leant over the sink. He looked in the mirror, staring at his own reflection. He didn’t recognise who he saw staring back. It was almost if he’d aged within the past few hours. His face was drawn, ashen. His eyes were wide, fearful. Bending down, Del splashed his face, his tears invisible to any onlookers as they mixed with the cool water.

  A little later, Del stared at Edith who sat at the table as he walked into the kitchen. ‘Don’t say a word, Edith. Not one fucking word.’

  At nine p.m., one of Del’s men ran up to him. ‘Boss! Boss! We’ve found something. Boss!’

  Del sprang up, and he rushed round to the side of his villa, running towards one of his men.

  �
��Where was she? Where did you find her?’

  Del’s number four in command looked alarmed. He glanced around for back up. ‘Er … no Boss, we haven’t found her, we’ve …’

  Del grabbed hold of the man, gripping his shirt hard. His words tumbled out as he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Why not? Why haven’t you found her? What do I pay you for if you can’t find a fucking little girl? My girl …’

  Del dropped to his knees in the middle of the lawn. He covered his face, weeping into his hands.

  ‘Take it easy, Del. It’s okay, mate.’ Fat Man Burke knelt down beside Del. ‘We haven’t found her, but she’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.’

  ‘How can you say that when you don’t know?’

  ‘Here, look.’ Fat Man gestured at the fourth in command to give him what he was holding.

  ‘It’s a note … a ransom note.’

  Del snatched it. It simply read; Four million to have your daughter back. We’ll be in touch.

  Del’s eyes scanned Fat Man’s face. ‘The Russians?’

  ‘I think so, but at least we know we’ll get her back. She’s alive.’

  44

  Alfonso Garcia knelt on the floor. He cursed under his breath as the stain he was trying to get out of the cream shag rug refused to budge; as did Edith, who stood above him, giving orders.

  He glanced to his right, staring at her large, puffy ankles. He saw the blue veins running up and down her leg, pushing against the red taut skin, and her swollen feet shoehorned into a delicate pair of Jimmy Choo sandals – and every part of him wondered how long it would be until he could change his fortunes around.

  He’d come so close to it. So fucking close and then Edith had double-crossed him. The thought sent rage through his body and Alfonso found himself having to breathe deeply so as not to turn and take a chunk out of Edith’s ankle.

  Managing to hang onto his self-control, Alfonso dipped the hard-bristled scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water just as Del walked in, kicking the bucket out of his way and all over Alfonso.

  Alfonso flinched, his instinct making him want to jump up and iron Del out. Instead, he gripped onto his wet clothes, wringing out the water in his cheap shirt, pretending it was the neck of either one of the Williams’.

  Del swivelled round and grabbed Alfonso by his shirt. ‘Are you trying to break my fucking neck, mate?’ Fat Man stepped in.

  ‘Take it easy, mate, eh?’

  Slowly Del released Alfonso. ‘Next time you get in my fucking way I’ll lift you off the floor, pal. You hear me?’

  Alfonso nodded, hurrying to try to clear up the mess.

  ‘Leave him. He ain’t done anything to you.’ It was Fat Man Burke.

  ‘No? How about trying to trip me up in my own frigging house?’

  ‘You’re tired. You need to get some kip.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me, Burkey; you know better than to do that.’ Del stopped, catching Edith’s eye. He turned to face her, speaking aggressively. ‘And what’s your boat race looking at, eh? You got something to say to me, girl?’

  Without saying anything, Fat Man gestured to both Alfonso and Edith to leave. Once they’d left the kitchen, Burkey, moving the bottle of brandy away from Del, spoke. ‘It won’t do any good taking it out on the people around you. It won’t change things.’

  ‘Maybe not, but it makes me feel a whole lot better.’

  ‘Del …’

  ‘Don’t Del me! Don’t try to make me feel better. It’s been two days since Star’s been missing and we haven’t heard anything yet.’

  ‘We will. We just have to sit it out. It’s part of their game.’

  The fear was apparent in Del’s eyes. ‘I just need to speak to Milo. Tell him the money’s no problem. He can take it all.’ Del pressed redial. The phone rang twice, then clicked onto voicemail.

  ‘Why’s he not answering?’

  ‘Patience.’

  Del kicked the kitchen cupboard doors, leaving his footprint on the handmade cabinets. He bellowed, giving the gardener who was working by the side of the house a scare.

  ‘How can I have fucking patience when those cunts have Star?’

  Fat Man shook his head. His heart went out to Del. It was a fucked-up situation, bringing kids into it, but he didn’t put anything past foreigners.

  The phone rang, and both Del and Fat Man froze for a second, before Del grabbed it.

  Bunny. Again. He hadn’t spoken to her. He hadn’t told her about Star and now she was ringing up to twenty times a day. He’d given all his men instructions not to answer any calls from her either. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking, though it couldn’t be any worse than the truth. But he couldn’t afford to imagine what she was thinking. He needed to concentrate on keeping sane.

  Closing his eyes, Del wondered when the nightmare would end.

  Edith stomped down the road. She was sweating and she could feel chafing at the top of her legs. She tried to walk with her legs wider apart but it produced a waddle rather than a walk. Going back to a normal stance, Edith tried to ignore the heat of the burn between her thighs.

  The furthest she’d walked for a good few years was a hundred meters. But now Del had refused her access to any of the cars she was forced to walk along the winding roads of the hot Marbella hills. Well, he’d pay for it. All the years. All the humiliation. Oh yes, he was going to pay for it in every way.

  Alfonso walked down the quiet road, clenching his fists as he followed Edith at a distance. There was no one about. An opportunity. The perfect opportunity. He could get his own back in the way he knew how. The way Alf Garfield, his alter ego, would do it. And he’d enjoy every moment.

  He narrowed his eyes as he followed her, his hand pulling out the flick blade from his pocket. Quick. Sharp and final. He was an expert. No one would know, but he would, and that’s what mattered. He would have Edith’s blood on his hands – and he would relish every second.

  He’d given her every chance to sort him out. But with every turn she’d mugged him off. Making him her sex pet. Making him humiliate himself. Making him believe he’d have a share in the Williams’ empire. Then she’d made the worst mistake of her life. She had screwed him over and where he came from you paid a price for it. If it wasn’t paid by the greens, it was paid for in claret. Blood.

  Alfonso held back for a moment as he watched Edith detour off the main road, across the tiny path and into the woods. He didn’t know this side of the hills well, but he supposed it was a short cut down to the village at the bottom. Licking his lips, Alf Garfield followed Edith deep into the pine woods.

  Coming to a small clearing, Alfonso flicked open the knife as he stood behind the tree watching Edith. He took a step forward then suddenly stopped, open-mouthed. He smiled at what he was seeing. He could hardly believe his eyes. He put the knife back in his pocket. This was going to be better than he’d ever imagined.

  45

  Julian Millwood stood in the middle of his flat, looking around in disgust at his own mess. The stench from the rotting food left on the plates was worse than ever thanks to the summer heatwave they were having in London.

  Large black flies buzzed around the rooms and a trail of mouse droppings littered the kitchen. The stench also wasn’t helped by the fact that the toilet had been blocked for the past few days. But as Julian stood in the run-down council flat, he could honestly now say he didn’t give a flying fuck. It was no longer his problem. He was out of here and he certainly wasn’t going to miss it. Not for one second. Not the flat. Not the area. Not even London.

  Picking up his suitcase, Julian walked out of the flat with a smile on his face, not bothering to lock the door. The crack-heads were welcome to it. As he walked along the stone corridor pulling down his hoodie, not wanting to be seen, he tried Alan Day once more. It rang, then quickly switched over to the familiar oily tones of the defence barrister’s voicemail. Damn it. He had to speak to him. Urgently. Hailing a cab on Camden Road, Julian looked at
his watch. He didn’t even have time to swing by his office. He’d have to try him later. There was one last favour he needed Alan to do – only this time it was going to be a big one.

  46

  At five past two in the early hours of Sunday morning the phone rang. Del scrambled to answer it, searching for the phone he’d left on his pillow. Christ, he must’ve dropped off to sleep. Something he hadn’t wanted to do. His voice was urgent. ‘Hello? Hello?’

  ‘Tomorrow. Seven a.m. Drop the money at the bottom of Calle de los Pinos. Come on your own. Once the money’s dropped off you’ll see the girl.’ The line went dead.

  ‘Was it Milo?’

  Del snapped at Fat Man. ‘I guess. What fucking difference does it make? As long as Star’s returned safely …’ Del trailed off. He paced up and down by the side of the pool and waved his hands, then continued with what he was saying. ‘He was using a voice-changer device, so I couldn’t tell.’

  ‘Bastard. Fucking cowards that lot,’ Burke replied.

  Del stood staring at the lights at the bottom of the pool, mesmerised for a moment.

  ‘You want the men to come with you? We’ll be armed, and if we see anyone we’ll shoot on sight.’

  Del looked at Burkey and shook his head. His mouth was dry with nerves. Star was close. It was almost time to rescue her, to bring her home.

  Pushing his fingers on his closed eyes, hoping to avoid the tears spilling out, Del cleared his throat. He took a deep breath, adrenaline rushing through his body.

  ‘No Burkey. I’ll go on me own. I don’t care about the money. I just don’t want any fuck-ups. When we get her home we can think about what we’re going to do next.’

  ‘Okay Boss. And Del … It’ll be all right.’

  ‘I hope so, Burkey. Christ do I hope so.’

  * * *

  No. It wasn’t possible. She was only here yesterday. Panic surged through her body as she saw what was in front of her. She began to run, stumbling forward; holding onto the pine trees for support as her breathing became deep and raspy. It was open. The door was ajar. The lock broken. Edith Williams staggered into the derelict shed. The damp tiny shed she’d kept Star a prisoner in for the past couple of days. It was empty. Star had gone.