by Martina Cole
Her grandmother was her idol. Diana had been the original woman in a male world, and she had made such a success of herself. Eilish knew that, if it had not been for Diana, her father would not have had such a walk-in. She loved her granny more than anything. Even though Diana was taking a back seat these days, her name was synonymous with respect, and that was what Eilish wanted for herself. She spent as much time with her grandmother as possible and lapped up every bit of knowledge her grandmother shared with her. Now the opportunity to prove herself to her father was paying off because he knew what his mother was capable of. And he admitted to himself that Eilish had his mother’s drive and ambition.
Davey Proctor was smiling as he approached her, and she felt the usual rush of excitement at being close to him. She couldn’t help her feelings for this man, even though she knew that he wasn’t worthy of her or her time. He was a womaniser and a flake but there was something about his blue eyes and thick dark hair that just rocked her boat; the man was beautiful and he knew it.
‘I’ve sorted the private party, as you requested, and the bars are ready for opening. I’ve also told Janine and Marina that they are finishing tonight over the trouble yesterday. Fighting like squaddies in the fucking top bar! I’ve got their pay ready and, providing they don’t fuck up today, I will give it to them.’
Eilish nodded.
Davey grinned at her. ‘Anything else?’
Eilish looked into his handsome face. He was laughing at her, but she wouldn’t rise to the bait.
Looking at him for long moments, Eilish finally said coolly, ‘I’ll let you know.’
Davey knew when he was being dismissed.
As he walked away, Eilish added loudly, ‘One last thing, Davey. Could you make sure in future that you keep a change of clothes here? It really doesn’t look good when you wear the same shirt two days on the trot. And have a shave – you look like one of the punters.’ Eilish was pleased to see that she had irked him – when he turned to face her, the usual trademark grin was absent.
‘I was just going home to change actually.’
Eilish shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’m glad to hear it. But, in future, I would appreciate it if you changed before coming to work.’
Davey Proctor looked into her eyes and, smiling once more now, he said seriously, ‘Of course, if that’s what you want. I only came in today because you asked me to take care of the private party. And I had to sort out the girls. But, believe me, I have been told.’
He was laughing at her again. Eilish was so glad that she could keep a lid on her emotions – she had inherited that from her grandmother – but she was well aware that Davey knew the effect he had on her. It irked her, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
She walked towards the offices and didn’t even bother to answer him, but she could sense him watching her every move. Inside the office, she leaned against the door and allowed herself a little smile. He was a fucker but she couldn’t get him out of her mind. There was something about him. He was unreliable where women were concerned, he was dangerous, and he was funny and great company. He was everything her father was, and more – and she knew that she should keep as far away from him as physically possible. But she couldn’t.
Davey was like a drug to her. She just couldn’t get enough of him.
Eventually, they would collide. And, when they did, she hoped that she could cope with him and all he entailed.
It was only a matter of time.
Chapter One Hundred and Five
Angus Junior and Sean were both in their club in Banús watching the DJs setting up.
The club was huge – it could easily hold a thousand people – but when it was empty like this, it looked so different. It was a great venue and no expense had been spared, which was why it was so popular. There were three VIP bars on the upper floors, and nine bars around the main dance-floor areas. There were huge TV screens so the punters could see the DJs at work, and the cages that the scantily clad lads and lasses danced in were scattered around. No matter where you were, there was something to see, something to experience. A can of Coke was a fiver, as was a bottle of water, so even without the alcohol, they would have made a profit.
Sean was laughing at something one of the sound men said, and Angus pretended that he had heard it and laughed too. He couldn’t bear to think that he had missed out on anything, and he wouldn’t admit to it either. That he was generally stoned didn’t help his situation, and the fact that his brother, Sean, rarely indulged annoyed him.
Sean was a natural entrepreneur with a knack for finding the right people to do the right jobs, which gave him an edge. Sean was quiet and well liked, and Angus knew that he deserved to be because he was a good guy. He also knew that he wasn’t so well thought of himself. He had earned his reputation as a loose cannon, and he was proud of that – even though it didn’t endear him to people. Well, he could live with that. After all, he was Angus Davis Junior, he didn’t need people to fucking like him. Eilish was like Sean; they both seemed to have a gift for making the people around them like them, regardless of who they were.
Angus recognised that his personality wasn’t geared to liking ‘the help’ – and that was how he saw the people who they worked with. He banged the dancers, he was rude to the bouncers – he basically did whatever suited him. And his name and family guaranteed him a swerve.
He went to the nearest bar and opened two bottles of Peroni. Walking back to his brother, he gave him one. ‘Come on, bruv, have a brew with me. It’s a big night tonight.’
Sean took the beer from him and grinned. ‘I can’t believe it, can you? The top DJ, and Rowetta and Bez from the Mondays. What an experience! The weather’s fucking excellent, so the punters outside will be banging. I can’t wait.’
Angus drank his beer straight down and, burping loudly, he said, ‘Let’s have another, bruv, and get this fucking party started.’
Sean laughed and handed his drink to Angus. ‘You have it, mate, I’m not a drinker, you know that.’
Angus drank the second Peroni straight down too. He was ready to rock and roll, and he wished that his brother would let his hair down.
Just once.
Chapter One Hundred and Six
Sean watched as his brother swallowed down a couple of Es with another Peroni, and he turned away from him and concentrated on the stages.
Angus annoyed him when he was like this. He would be out of his nut before the doors opened, and he would be looking for a fight before the first fucking set. It was like he wanted aggravation from the old man and, when their dad turned up, he would know immediately that Angus was already rocking.
He was sick of being their go-between.
Angus grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him over to the bar. ‘Come on, Sean, it’s a fucking nightclub. Have another drink with your brother.’
The staff were arriving and getting on with their allotted jobs. Sean knew that the bartenders would not be too thrilled at Angus and his antics. All they wanted to do was get on with serving drinks, and make sure that the tills matched the sales. When Angus was like this, there was no chance of that happening.
Sean pulled his brother away from the bar and, dragging him towards the lifts, he said loudly, ‘Come on, you, let’s go to the VIP bar. This place will be packed out soon.’
Angus followed him happily.
Sean knew his brother didn’t care where they went, as long as he had a drink.
Chapter One Hundred and Seven
Angus Davis Senior walked into The Banús just after midnight. Sean had said to name their nightclub after the area, and he had been right. As he had pointed out, when people came to the Banús they went to The Banús. It made sense really.
His Sean was a good lad, and he had shown he had great potential. The fact that he didn’t really drink or take drugs was a big plus, especially when he measured him up against Angus Junior. Angus Junior, in all fairness, was a shrewd businessman, providing you caught him be
fore he went on it for the night. Once he was on the chop, he was a waste of fucking time and effort.
Angus loved him, but he despaired of his eldest child ever having the nous to really move up in his business. The boy had a terrible habit of falling out with people for no good reason. If these people were fucking nobodies, Angus would have happily swallowed, because no real harm would be done, but his son could pick a fight with a Trappist monk when the mood was on him. Once he hit that stage, he didn’t care who he was rowing with. Consequently, Angus didn’t trust his eldest son with anything of importance any more.
Now that was seen to by Sean, who had stepped up to the plate and proved himself a man of his word. Sean was respected for who he was, not just because he was his father’s son, and that pleased Angus. Sean could close a deal, and close it well – he had been a real asset to his father. But Angus Junior needed to be put in his place again, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
The club was packed out and the atmosphere was almost electric. Angus and Roy stood by the main dance floor and surveyed the club and its patrons gleefully. This place was where everyone wanted to be, and where everyone wanted to be seen. He followed Roy to his private lift. As they made their way up to the VIP bars, Angus was shaking hands and waving at people. The punters would dine out on the story of his attention for years. He always acted like each one was an old friend who he was so pleased to see, and they reacted with genuine happiness. Angus knew exactly how to play the game.
In the lift, Roy laughed, saying, ‘Did you see that fucking wannabe trying to get a photo with you?’
Angus laughed with him. ‘See the size of his head? Like fucking Shergar!’
They were still laughing as they exited the lift.
Chapter One Hundred and Eight
Roy saw Angus Junior before his father did, and he sighed in disappointment. The only thing he had wanted was a good night with no trouble. He was getting too old for this shit.
Roy pulled Angus away from a young actress who had waylaid him, and nodded in his son’s direction. ‘You go up to the private bar, and I’ll bring fucking happy Harry up in a minute.’
Angus nodded. He was annoyed and it showed. He saw Sean trying to catch his eye, but he pretended not to see him. If he went over there and Angus Junior started his antics, he would not be able to contain himself.
His son had promised him faithfully that he would not drink or take drugs too early in the day, because that was his downfall. He never knew when to stop. He didn’t have a fucking Off button.
He called his private lift, and it opened immediately, but he could still hear his eldest son’s belligerent voice, even over the DJ’s ranting. Inside the lift, Angus unclenched his fists and took a few deep breaths, furious with how easily his eldest son could ruin his night.
Sean watched his father disappear into the lift. He knew that his father had deliberately pretended not to see him and he couldn’t blame him. He had been trying to keep Angus down, trying to stop him getting so out of it. What hadn’t helped the situation was Benny Rafter’s sons coming over to say hello. Sean liked them enormously, and so did Angus – when he wasn’t out of his box – and it had been fine at first. The fact they were in the main VIP bar spoke volumes, it told everyone about their standing in the community. But that didn’t deter Angus; he had decided ten minutes into the conversation that Ronald Rafter’s wife was fair game.
Tania Rafter was a good-looking girl. She was tall, she had long dark hair, and she was slim enough to accentuate her breasts. She had the face of an angel, and Ronnie was crazy about her – and in fairness, she was crazy about him too. Angus had grabbed Tania Rafter’s breasts and asked her if she did the business. Tania had been mortified, especially as Angus had been at her wedding not eight months previously.
Ronnie had, quite rightly, taken umbrage, and Angus had happily accepted his umbrage and raised that with another insult: ‘Come on, Ronnie, you and I both know she isn’t exactly a wilting violet.’
Sean closed his eyes in utter disbelief and shook his head slowly. He had already called over two of the security men that he trusted, and they waited patiently for his instructions. Danny Rafter was standing in front of his brother now, talking him down. Sean looked across at Roy; he needed help to get Angus over to the lift and out of the situation.
The broken bottle came out of nowhere. It was so quick and unexpected, no one had seen it coming. Tania Rafter grabbed a wine bottle from the black granite bar and smashed it into Angus’s head in one quick movement. Even Ronnie Rafter was in shock at her retaliation. His Tania was a nice girl. She wasn’t violent; it wasn’t in her nature.
She pointed the bottle at Angus again as she screamed, ‘No one touches me, Angus Davis. How dare you, you fucking piece of shit!’
Ronnie took the wine bottle away from her and she fell straight into his arms, crying hysterically. The security men had already cleared the bar of onlookers. Roy walked Angus to the private lift, and one of the barmaids brought out a few tea towels to stem the bleeding.
Sean stayed with Ronnie Rafter and his wife, and did his best to minimise the damage. ‘What can I say, Ron? I’m so fucking sorry, mate.’
Ronnie was still holding his wife in his arms and trying to calm her down. He looked at Sean and, shaking his head, he said angrily, ‘That bastard crossed a line tonight, and you know it as well as I do. He assaulted my wife, and he mugged me off like I am some kind of cunt. Well, this don’t end here. And you can tell him that from me.’
Sean nodded in agreement. He couldn’t believe the turn the night had taken. Angus and his drunken shenanigans were becoming a regular event, and Sean didn’t like it. He couldn’t control his brother when he was like this, and he couldn’t second-guess him either, because Angus was so erratic he was capable of anything.
‘He has a drug problem, Ron. You know that he won’t even remember this tomorrow.’
Ronald Rafter was holding his wife tightly in his arms. She was still crying, and he could feel her shaking in shock.
He said nastily, ‘We were celebrating the news that my Tania is pregnant, so that fucker ruined not just a night out, Sean, but something that we should have remembered all our lives with happiness.’
Sean wondered why he was even trying to defend his brother’s actions and his lunacy. In all honesty, he would rather spend the evening with the Rafter brothers than Angus. Angus was becoming an arsehole whose drug-taking was getting the better of him. These outrageous acts were becoming more frequent and more unpredictable by the day.
Sean nodded to the barman, who looked terrified, saying, ‘Open a decent bottle of brandy.’ Then, looking at Ronald and Danny, he said honestly, ‘Do you want to know the truth? I’d fucking take him out if he treated me or mine like that. Nothing I can say will make any difference to this situation. But personally, I’m fucking mortified by his behaviour.’
Tania was calmer now, and she accepted the brandy gratefully.
Sean walked them to the sofas and, as they settled down, he raised his own glass in a toast. ‘Just . . . I apologise for my brother, and I hope you won’t hold this against me.’
The brothers were aware that he meant not just him but his family, and they knew that no one would be that fucking rash. Ronnie had right on his side where Angus Junior was concerned, but if he sought retribution on any other members of the family, Diana Davis would see him dead and buried within twenty-four hours. That was without allowing for Angus Senior, if he should choose to take offence.
The Rafters were a hard family, and well respected, but they knew they couldn’t take on the Davises, even if Angus was fair game by anybody’s standards.
Chapter One Hundred and Nine
Angus looked down at his son and wasn’t surprised that he felt nothing. He had not liked his eldest son for many years. He had watched as they put twenty stitches in his son’s head, and he had not batted an eyelid.
He saw his son open his eyes and he stood up, ready to go. �
��So, you’re back in the land of the living, are you?’
Angus Junior looked at his father, and he was suddenly remembering everything that had happened in stunning clarity.
‘What is it with you, son, and touching other men’s birds? It’s like a fucking disease with you, ain’t it? Oh, I have heard the stories about you and women – word on the street is that you won’t take no for an answer. No one has gone as far as calling you a fucking rapist yet – at least, not to my face anyway. But you do have a reputation.’
The boy knew better than to get into a conversation like this with his father. He was suffering not just from the pain of his injuries but also from the realisation that he had fucked up big time by anyone’s standards.
‘It’s like you deliberately go out of your way to cause mega aggravation – and not just for yourself, but for me as well. Roy is so disgusted with you, he wouldn’t even come in here with me. Sean’s been trying to talk the Rafters down. Though when young Ronnie eventually captures you, this time you can go it alone. You are out, son. I warned you before that if you ever fucked up again, I would out you.’
Angus Junior looked up at his father and saw the likeness that was so evident to everyone. He wondered if his father saw it too. Did that bother him? Was that why he was so quick to dump him out of his life?
He knew he was being a fool. His father had given him chance after chance, and he had just naused it away. That was his biggest fault. He could work a deal with the best of them, he could suss a score in seconds. But once he decided to go on the drink and the drugs, all his good intentions went out of the window.
He liked Ronny Rafter, and he liked his wife, Tania – she was a decent girl, from a good family. What had possessed him to treat her so badly?