by Jacqui Rose
39
As usual Detective Balantyne’s head was filled with thoughts both about Emma and the Doyle case, though now, as he stared at the monitors around Claire’s bed, he had something else to think about.
In between work he’d spent most of his time at the hospital, which had helped to take his mind off what had happened, though of course he’d still thought about it. Of course he had.
The guilt had sat on him; the guilt of Claire and the security guard, and he’d wondered how it could’ve all happened, and he’d blamed himself – well, at first he had … at first. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he couldn’t quite bring himself to put the weight on his shoulders. How could he? How was he supposed to have sleepless nights over something Emma had done? Because that’s where it all started. It had begun with her. Emma was the cause of everything.
He sighed and took a swig of cold coffee from the cardboard cup he’d got from the vending machine some twenty minutes ago. But it was true, no matter what he said to himself, everything started and ended with that woman.
If it hadn’t been for Emma, none of this would be happening. Claire wouldn’t be in hospital and he wouldn’t have gone to Kent to get the SD card out of the car, and the security guard wouldn’t be dead, leaving three children without a father.
So whilst at first he did try to blame himself, it turned out it wasn’t possible. But of course that didn’t mean he didn’t care about the security guard, far from it. He cared so much that he was determined to make Emma pay, to make her suffer for the hurt she’d caused, and above all else to make her pay for that poor man’s death.
A sudden groan stopped Balantyne’s thoughts. He sat up and stared at Claire. He watched as her eyes began to flicker whilst another groan left her lips. Delighted, he sprang up and ran to the door.
‘Nurse! Nurse! I think she’s waking up … Nurse!’ He gestured to the two nurses in the corridor, waving them in. They rushed across to Claire, checking the monitors, checking the read-outs, before standing back and smiling.
The shorter of the two nurses quietly said, ‘Hello, Claire, it’s good to see you. How’re you feeling?’
‘Not great.’
‘Well I’m not surprised. You’ve had some major surgery to stop the bleeding on your brain after the accident but the surgeon’s really pleased with how it went. He’ll be in to see you shortly.’
Claire’s eyes flickered, focusing first on the nurses before her gaze came to rest on Balantyne. She gave what looked like a smile before she said, ‘What happened?’
Balantyne stepped forward. He took her hand as he turned to the nurses. ‘Would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?’
They nodded and left, leaving Balantyne clutching on to Claire’s hand. Once they’d gone, Balantyne leant down and kissed Claire’s head.
He felt free now that Emma was going to be out of his way once and for all, and it had been easier than he could’ve ever imagined.
‘I’ve been so worried. I missed you.’
Claire blinked, touching his face gently. ‘What’s going on, Tony?’
‘Can’t you remember anything?’
She frowned and sounding fragile, said, ‘I have only vague memories. I remember we were in the car talking about …’ She trailed off almost immediately, uncertainty crossing her face.
‘About the baby … We talked about the baby, Claire. You told me you were pregnant.’
A light suddenly came into her eyes before fear filled them. ‘Oh my God. I haven’t …’
Balantyne smiled. ‘No, you haven’t lost it. They told me it was fine. Everything’s going to be fine, including you and me.’
Grateful, Claire squeezed Tony’s hand but once again she frowned. ‘But what about Emma? What about her? It’s not fair. She needs you. We can’t …’
Balantyne put his fingers on Claire’s lips. ‘Sshhhh. It’s okay. It’s all fine, it’s all been sorted. You don’t have to worry anymore.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Having already worked out what he was going to say, Balantyne reeled off his words. ‘You don’t remember what I told you, do you?’
‘No … Everything’s such a blank.’
Wanting to lay the groundwork for the story he was going to feed her, Balantyne began to lie through his teeth. ‘I told you that Emma and I had decided to go our separate ways. It was her decision as much as mine. So it was never a question of me just dumping her, which I know you’ve always been worried about.’
Claire looked at him in utter disbelief. ‘But this is Emma we’re talking about. After all this time why on earth would she just suddenly decide to make it easy for you? I don’t understand.’
Balantyne shrugged, not particularly pleased that the conversation was going the way it was. He’d expected her to accept it, be pleased and move on, but instead she was questioning him and he felt irritated. ‘She knew that her drinking was getting worse. Maybe she realised that it wasn’t fair for anyone – even herself.’
‘But—’
‘Claire, please. You’ve had major surgery, don’t try to work that head of yours too hard.’
She squeezed his hand again. ‘Sorry, you’re right.’ She stopped then added, ‘But how did I end up in here?’
Balantyne looked at her earnestly. ‘It’s hard to say this, but Emma tried to kill you.’
‘What? What? Oh my God, but you’ve just said—’
He stroked Claire’s hair, with the lies becoming easier and easier, he smiled. ‘I know what I’ve just said and it’s true. We’d decided to go our separate ways – that’s why this is all the harder. Like I say she realised that it was over and that, to save her own life, you know from the drinking, it was the right thing to do. I’d even go so far as to say she was happy for us – well, as happy as Emma would ever be. She accepted it. But then she had a relapse and this is the result of that … She tried to run you over, Claire.’
Visibly upset, Claire didn’t say anything for a moment. Her forehead creased into furrowed lines as she thought, desperately trying to dredge up the memory from what had happened, but it was all a blank. ‘Emma really did this to me?’
‘Yes, but don’t hate her, Claire. She’s unwell and she’s finally going to get the help she needs. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?’ Balantyne buried his head into Claire’s chest.
‘Tony, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. It’s a shock – I mean, what you’re saying is terrible – but it’s not your fault, none of this is. How were you to know she was going to do something like this?’
Balantyne lifted his head and kissed Claire on her forehead. ‘You’re right but it’s so hard. I was so scared I was going to lose you and I’ve been worried about Emma.’
‘Because you’re a good man, that’s why,’ Claire said.
He smiled. ‘I’m just looking forward to getting you better and then us getting on with our lives.’
‘And it’s good to know that Emma’s getting treatment. Hopefully some extended rehab will help her.’
Balantyne looked puzzled. ‘Rehab? Emma’s not in rehab – though she’s getting the help she needs. She’s somewhere where she’ll no longer be a danger to others. They’ve locked her up, Claire. They’re charging her with attempted murder. And hopefully they’ll throw away the key.’
40
It was Saturday afternoon and hearing Shannon, Mia and Vaughn go out, Charlie stood up, stretched, broke wind and smiled to himself. Shannon hadn’t come back into the room since yesterday; he suspected that she’d probably slept on the couch or in another room. Anything to avoid having to come into the room. She hadn’t even put on the light before she’d left the room. Though that didn’t surprise him. He knew his niece well enough to know that she tried to avoid anything difficult. Whether that was pretending something hadn’t actually happened or getting off her head on drugs, she always escaped somehow.
He remembered a time when she was around ab
out eleven years old and he’d brought a couple of friends back to have a bit of fun with her, do what they wanted with her. Though even he had been surprised at the things they actually did.
The next day, even though Shannon had been sore and unable to walk properly, it was almost like she’d blocked it out, pretending nothing had happened. There were hundreds of other times too, like the times he’d beat her, teaching her a lesson for being too cheeky or not listening to what he had told her to do. But her reaction was always the same: block it out or smoke some crack like it was going out of fashion.
He chuckled to himself at the thought. No doubt that’s exactly what she was doing this time too: pretending it hadn’t happened. Probably too afraid to see him, but that suited him all right, because then he wouldn’t need to hold his breath, he wouldn’t need to hold quite as still. All he had to do was lie there and play dead. At that thought Charlie roared with laughter, so much so that the laughter turned into a hoarse cough.
If she was so stupid as to believe she’d killed him then he would treat her like the dumb bitch she was. He smirked as he unlocked the bedroom door with the spare key before waddling out into the hallway naked.
He hadn’t bothered dressing himself. There was hardly any point; he just wanted to have a nosy around properly. He’d seen most of the apartment: the plush rooms, the ornate bathrooms and luxury kitchen – as well as the office space that Vaughn had on the top floor – but what he hadn’t actually seen were the details, the private stuff that was tucked away, so this was certainly going to be interesting.
Walking into Vaughn’s extraordinarily large bedroom, which looked and felt expensive with the tastefully decorated grey and silver furniture along with the huge super-king-size bed in the centre of it, Charlie whistled but then immediately curled his nose up at the idea of Vaughn.
He’d never had any time for him and he didn’t like the way he’d got his claws into Shannon. If he’d just left her instead of playing Soho’s version of the archangel Gabriel, then Shannon would be exactly where she should be: on her knees and on her back, earning him money.
He sniffed in disgust at the thought of the money lost, and with that in mind he wandered over to the corner of the room and urinated in the corner with a huge smile on his face as it soaked the plush grey carpet.
Chuckling to himself, Charlie shuffled through the walk-in wardrobe, looking at Vaughn’s expensive suits and shirts, his fat fingers touching and feeling the luxurious garments. He was certainly enjoying himself.
Then making his way across to the large dressers he smiled as he opened the drawers, riffling through them carefully: neatly folded silk handkerchiefs and socks, ties and underwear, perfectly arranged like a display in Harrods men’s department.
Searching through the bottom drawer, Charlie stopped and stared. He raised his eyebrows and grinned. Tucked into Vaughn’s Tom Ford underwear there was a bundle of money. Two bundles of money, in fact, and a gold and diamond watch.
He picked up the watch and flicked through the bundle of notes. By his reckoning there must be at least ten thousand pounds there, if not more. He spoke out loud. ‘Thanks very much, Vaughnie, that will do nicely for now, son.’
He laughed as he wobbled out of the room, with the bundles of money in his hand. Charlie headed to the room across the hallway. He pushed open a door and saw it was Mia’s room. A nasty smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up as they rested on her tiny dresses and skirts, which were laundered and sitting on the wooden chest of drawers waiting to be put away.
Thinking of Mia he closed his eyes, his breath becoming deeper and louder. Suddenly he heard a noise. He could hear voices. It was Vaughn and Shannon coming back.
As quickly as he could, Charlie waddled along the corridor, back into Shannon’s room, locking the door hurriedly, as he heard them come into the flat.
Scrambling on the bed, Charlie tucked the money and the watch down he side of the mattress before covering himself back up with the sheet and playing dead.
41
‘I tried to call you.’ Alfie leant across the visitors’ table, staring in annoyance at Franny.
She hissed her reply, her eyes flickering quickly to the officers standing a few metres away. ‘I’ve been banged up in my cell for the whole weekend, no privileges. And on top of that, I got moved and my phone’s in the sole of my trainers, which are in the other cell.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s no good to me, is it? I’ve had to come here again, and you know I don’t like being in this place.’
‘And you think I do? You really know how to make me feel better.’
Alfie sat back and stared at Franny. The bruise on her face was fading and strangely she looked as good to him as ever. But that’s what he hated. He hated how for some reason he was always drawn back to her when everything told him to run and never return.
Irritated further by those thoughts, Alfie snapped, ‘I ain’t here to make you feel better, Fran, I’m here because I’ve got no choice. I don’t want to be pushing up daisies so I’ll accept the offer. You pay off Huang and I do your dirty work.’
Inside Franny wanted to scream with relief, but instead she coolly said, ‘That’s great. Although I wouldn’t call it dirty work, I’d call it necessary.’
Alfie stared at her for a moment then said, ‘Whatever. Anyway, I’m here because I know you’re telling the truth, which must be a new experience for you.’
Franny tilted her head. ‘How do you know?’
‘Shannon told me.’
Franny sat up in the chair. Her eyes darted around the room, making sure that no one was listening to them. ‘What are you on about? Why would Shannon tell you? What did you do to her?’
Again, Alfie leant forward. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, she’s a kid. I didn’t do anything to her.’
Franny narrowed her eyes. Her voice was hostile. ‘That kid is a liar and she put me in here. Not to mention she’s an ex-crackhead.’
Alfie shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about her being an ex-addict.’
It was Franny’s turn to be irritated. ‘What are you on about? You know as well as I do she was on the pipe.’
‘I’m not saying she wasn’t. I’m saying I don’t think she’s an ex-anything. That’s how I found out about her giving the statement to the police; she was bang off her head on crack.’
Franny stayed silent. Her thoughts rushed at a thousand miles an hour. Then sounding genuinely shocked, she said, ‘But what about Mia? I thought you said she was looking after Mia?’
‘As far as I know she still is.’
Franny raised her voice, immediately regretting it when the officers looked over. ‘Then you have to get Mia! Do you understand, Alf?’
‘Like I already said to you, your days of telling me what to do are well and truly over.’
‘I don’t think so.’
Alfie’s snarl mirrored Franny’s. ‘Oh I do think so, babe. I’ll do what you want me to do to get Huang off my back but that’s as far as it goes.’
‘Then you’ll go and get Mia, because I’ve just made that part of the deal. You take Mia or I’ll be coming to water those daisies.’
Alfie squeezed Franny’s knee hard under the table. She yelped and jumped, then booted him hard in the shin. He skidded back in his chair, rubbing his leg, but kept his voice to a quiet hiss, not wanting to attract the guard’s attention. ‘Fucking bitch – that hurt!’
‘Oh grow up, Alfie. You’ve had worse – and Huang will definitely give you worse. He likes a painful ending.’
With the din of the noise of children playing and screaming in the visitors’ area in the background, Alfie growled, ‘You’re enjoying this, ain’t you?’
Franny shook her head. ‘Are you kidding me? Do I look like I’m having a good time?’
‘I’m not sure, I can’t tell through that layer of ice around you.’
She gave a rueful smile before she relaxed slightly and said, ‘I just want the best for Mia, that’
s all, and if you won’t go and take her off your own bat, then you give me no choice but to force you to do it … Family’s everything to you, and in time you’ll thank me.’
Begrudgingly Alfie had to admit that Franny was right. Family, to him, was everything. But it started and stopped there. She wasn’t right about Mia, and he hated the fact that she was forcing him into something he didn’t want to do, the whole situation just felt wrong.
‘Listen to me, darlin’, I ain’t going to thank you now or later, so you can put that idea to bed. Like I’ve said previously, it ain’t healthy how you are always worrying about Mia when she’s not even your daughter.’
Franny bristled. ‘No? You like to keep telling me that whilst all the time you ain’t doing anything for her. So whatever you think of me, even being banged up, I’m doing a hell of a lot more than you are for Mia. And for your information it isn’t a crime to love and look out for someone – especially when they ain’t got anyone else.’
‘Yeah well you made sure of that, didn’t you?’
‘What happened to Bree was an accident, and you know that, Alf. I’m sorry that I kept everything from you – but you’re choosing to stay away from her. You’re choosing to snort the whole of Colombia up your nose. You’re choosing to booze away your days. No one else. So don’t use what I did as an excuse.’
Alfie sat back. There was something in what Franny had just said which resonated. Though it irked him to admit it even to himself. ‘Fine, I’ll go and get her. I’m not sure if they’ll be too pleased about it, though, and I can’t say I am.’
‘Good and when you’ve done that let me know, Alf … and whilst you’re getting Mia, tell Shannon I want to see her and tell her it’s in her best interests to come.’
42
The next day, on Sunday afternoon a tap on the hospital door made Balantyne jump out of his sleep. He’d nodded off in the chair next to Claire’s bed a few hours ago and the next thing he knew a police officer he recognised from down the station was putting his head around the door. ‘The nurse said it was all right to come in.’