The Choice

by KERRY BARNES

  Before he left, he made his way to the garage to check that Stephan’s car had been driven away, just for peace of mind. But then he noticed that Zara’s car wasn’t there either. He scratched his head and thought back to the conversation he’d had with her a while ago. She’d never said she’d been back. However, the conversation had been very brief. He turned his head to look back at the house. Jackie was dead. A mad notion swept through him and covered his skin in goose bumps. Surely, Zara hadn’t been the one who killed Jackie?

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialled her number. After two rings, she answered.

  ‘Mike, I didn’t get the chance to tell you that I’ve been back to the house to collect my car.’

  He felt a sense of relief that she wasn’t hiding anything from him. ‘Zara, Jackie’s dead and so is Torvic!’

  ‘What? Oh my God! How? When?’

  ‘It looks like Torvic must’ve come to the house and killed Jackie. Stephan’s car isn’t here, so Torvic must’ve driven it away. But he was run off the road and killed, apparently by some Yardies. Why did you come back to the house? Jesus, Zara – if he’d been here, he would’ve shot you.’

  ‘I know I promised to stay put, but, Mike, I wanted to help. I felt …’

  ‘Never mind. Listen, you’re safe now. Torvic’s dead, so we can at last breathe a sigh of relief.’

  ‘I can’t believe it. And you’re sure it’s him? How did you find out?’

  ‘Lowry gave me the tip-off, and me and Staffie had a butcher’s ourselves. The place was swarming with the Ol’ Bill. The car was burned out and taped off, just up the road from yours, in the farmer’s field. The evil bastard was burned alive by all accounts. Fucking good job an’ all.’

  ‘And what about Jackie?’

  Mike sighed. ‘If ya mean what am I going to do with her, well, I’ll have to wait a bit. The police are scouring the area, so I can’t do anything just yet. I’ll meet you back at mine.’

  He would have to wait until the police had finished with their business up the lane before he could make any kind of attempt to dispose of her, but he had a plan.

  Chapter 16

  Three weeks later

  Arthur stood in his black suit with his arm around Gloria. The graveside was packed with mourners. From lawyers to villains, they came in their droves.

  ‘He did have a lot of friends, didn’t he, Arthur,’ she snivelled.

  Arthur looked around and recognized everyone, but he didn’t have the heart to say to his wife, ‘No, they’re Mike’s pals, not Eric’s.’ The truth was, Eric wasn’t liked or even respected much. Arthur knew it, but he wasn’t going to tell his wife that.

  Arthur loved his son, and, once upon a time, he’d loved them equally, but as they grew into men, he knew there was a side to Eric that was so dark. He wished now he’d tried to understand him better. Maybe then he would have been able to get to the bottom of his son’s secrets because he knew there were a hell of a lot. However, perhaps it was because he was such a straight-up kind of man himself that it caused him to turn away from Eric. His own belief was that family stuck together – whether it was good, bad, or ugly – and that they would always be honest with each other. Nevertheless, for some reason, Eric failed in those departments. In fact, he didn’t just fail, he failed big time. Arthur looked over at Mike, who stood with his legs apart and his hands in front of him, linking arms with Zara, his fiancée. Arthur may be getting on in years, but he was savvy, and he’d sussed out early doors that probably the reason for Eric turning away from the family was Mike’s intended: Zara. Two brothers loving one woman – the same one – was a car crash waiting to happen.

  His eyes drifted to his grandson, Ricky, who stood just like Mike, with his feet apart, his shoulders back, and his head tilted slightly to the side. And there, on either side, were Arty and Liam. It really was history repeating itself. He was thankful that Ricky, being an only child, wouldn’t have the same issues that Mike and Eric had had. He smiled to himself as he watched Arty place an arm around Ricky and squeeze his shoulder. Ricky was fortunate in having Arty, and Liam, of course. It was almost as if he had two surrogates – they would always be there for him.

  Then his eyes focused on Big Lou Baker, Charlie Ritz, and Old Teddy Stafford, his pals in the old firm. Nothing had really changed much. They were just the same, all still part of the Regans’ crew. He closed his eyes, and for the second time in his life, he prayed to God that they would all live in peace.

  But then he opened them again and looked over at Willie, who appeared far from peaceful. Willie had a score to settle, and if Willie was anything like his father, then God help whoever was on the other end of it. And he wouldn’t be on his own: the firm would stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

  As the priest presided over Eric’s body being lowered into the ground, Arthur wiped away a tear and took a deep breath. He looked across at the mourners and beyond to the old oak tree, the largest by far in the cemetery. He blinked and desperately tried to clear his vision, blinded momentarily through his tears. He thought he saw a man hiding near the tree watching everyone, but then, he figured, perhaps his eyesight was playing tricks on him. He sighed, realizing, of course, that there would be all kinds of folk here. Some, no doubt, were hoping to catch a look at the many Faces who had come to pay their respects. Others, reporters, some from the main tabloids, were wanting to get a story in time for tonight’s deadline.

  As the mourners slowly left the graveside, Ricky walked purposefully over to Gilly, his other grandmother. She was very frail and needed her walking stick to hold herself upright. Quickly, he grabbed her arm. ‘Nan, I didn’t know you were coming. I would’ve stood with you.’

  Gilly looked up and through tears she smiled. ‘You’re such a good boy, my babe,’ she said, her travellers’ accent apparent. She didn’t hide it anymore, not in front of Ricky; she didn’t need to. ‘I thought it was only right and proper that I paid me last respects, ya know. Gloria and Arthur ’ave been a tower of strength, and you, my babe, ’ave always been the apple of my eye.’

  ‘It’s cold and damp, Nan. We would’ve understood if ya had stayed at home in the warm.’

  She patted his hand. ‘I know me and ya muvver … well, we didn’t really ’ave a relationship, but I did give birth to her, and without her, I wouldn’t have had you. So, I just wanted to see if her grave’s been finished off proper, like.’

  ‘Nan, I had it covered in peace lilies. I know she wasn’t kind to me, but, like you just said, she was still me muvver, and I’ll make sure her grave is regularly seen to – the gypsy way – always in full bloom.’

  The lingering tears tumbled down Gilly’s wrinkled face. ‘And you won’t forget me, my babe, will ya?’

  Ricky put his arms around her, gently hugging her. ‘I’ll take oath that I’ll always look after you, Nan.’

  She chuckled at his gypsy accent, and the way he said ‘take oath’, as if he respected her heritage and recognized part of it as his own, even if it was just for her benefit.

  Gloria trotted over to make sure Gilly was all right. The air was bitterly cold, and Gilly was such a thin, sickly woman. ‘Come on, love. I’ll get one of the lads to run you back to mine. We need to get ya nice and warm.’

  Gilly shook her head. ‘I’ll be off home, Gloria, if ya don’t mind. I feel a bit tired, ya know.’

  Gloria walked her over to the cars and organized a lift home, knowing it must have been hard for the woman to come to the graveyard when her own daughter had been buried only a week ago.

  The cortege of black cars finally made their way back to Arthur’s house. Mike sat quietly, staring out of the window. His mind was on the past, when he was just a teenager. Eric, Willie, Staffie, and Lou were the up-and-coming firm. They laughed more than they cried back then. Life had been simple, and he’d been proud to have his brother by his side. He’d never been alone; they’d shared everything and would have died for each other. Where had it all gone wrong? he wondered. A
tear trickled down the side of his nose and a lump rose in his throat. He would never know the answer, but no matter what his brother had done in the past, he had forgiven him. He hoped Eric knew that.

  * * *

  Christmas was approaching, but Gloria held off from putting the decorations up; she’d wanted to get the funeral over with before she would even entertain any festive celebration. It just didn’t seem right somehow. All the close friends made their way back to her house, where she’d engaged caterers to put together sandwiches and fruit cake. She hated fruit cake, but it was the tradition on these occasions.

  As she took her black fitted jacket off, Ricky made his way over and gave his grandmother a hug. ‘Nan, I shouldn’t really say it, but you do look lovely.’

  She pinched his cheeks. ‘Aw, Ricky, you’re such a good boy. Now then, make sure everyone gets a brandy, and do us a favour. Keep an eye out. I don’t want the old cronies thinking it’s a party and getting pissed.’

  Ricky raised his eyebrow. ‘Ya know they’re gonna anyway, don’t ya?’

  She smiled gently. ‘Yeah, no doubt, but I want them to show some respect. I mean, I know Eric wasn’t their favourite, but, still, he was my son.’

  Ricky kissed her on the cheek and winked. ‘Leave it to me, Nan.’

  As the evening went on, the guests mingled and remained respectful. Ricky kept his promise by keeping a close eye. However, two men were really knocking back the drinks as if there was no tomorrow. Mike was in the dining room with Willie, Staffie, and Lou, remembering old times when they had their lads’ nights playing poker or watching the footie. Telling stories of the heists that had seen them running around like headless chickens and finally counting their money had them roaring with laughter. Then they talked about Eric and the atmosphere became serious and respectful as they remembered why they were there.

  Zara spoke with some associates while their wives took a back seat. Her reputation and power were respected and envied, but she dismissed the green-eyed monsters in the room; it was part of who she was, and, anyway, to her, it was like water off a duck’s back.

  Claudia Reynolds, the wife of the bank robber Gerry, sat next to Polly Roberts, the wife of Gerry’s business partner George. Claudia leaned into Polly, gossiping away as always. ‘She swans around like she fucking owns the place. Why the men kiss her fucking feet, God only knows, but I tell ya this for nothing. I won’t be sucking up to her like a dog on heat. Just look at those men. They’re like flies around shit.’

  Polly laughed along. ‘I dunno what Mike sees in her, what with one hand an’ all. That man could have anyone he wants.’

  As if Zara could hear, she turned around and held her head high and looked down her nose at the women. ‘More drinks, ladies?’

  The death glare had Claudia’s face going crimson and looking down in shame, while Polly could only smile nervously. ‘Er, no, thank you, Zara. We’re just fine.’

  As Zara turned her back on them to talk to the men again, Claudia looked up once more. ‘See what I mean, Polly? She really thinks she’s something, don’t she?’

  Polly was about to answer, when Gloria, from behind the sofa, leaned in. ‘That, ladies, is because she is something, and if I were you, I’d watch exactly what you say, or you could just find you’ll be attending your ol’ fellas’ funerals next. And this time, a word of warning to go with that advice: if you ever disrespect my family again, it won’t be Zara’s wrath you’ll face, it’ll be fucking mine. Now, smile sweetly and continue to act like the fucking money-grabbing tarts you two really are. And don’t you ever forget where you came from. ’Cos if ya do, I’ll give you two a swift fucking reminder.’

  Claudia and Polly froze at that threat. Glued to their seats, they felt totally humiliated.

  Zara listened to the men talking business, but her attention turned to the two men in the corner who were saying something to Ricky. She watched his stance change; he wasn’t bantering and being his usual animated self. The look on the men’s faces wasn’t pleasant: they appeared cocky, as if they were trying to humiliate the lad. She wondered for a moment whether to let Ricky handle them or to intervene herself. Her heart was pounding as she watched one of the men poke Ricky in the chest. Breathing through her nose to calm herself, she made her way over but not so close as to get in Ricky’s face. She stayed back, with her body turned to the side, listening intently.

  ‘Do you know who I am?’

  Ricky shook his head. ‘Nah, I don’t, but this isn’t the time or place to get drunk.’

  ‘You ain’t got the fucking right, ya half pint, to tell me how much I can fucking drink. You don’t know this family like I do. You weren’t even in it for most of your life, so run along, lad, and leave us be.’

  Zara was raging inside, but she knew she had to let Ricky handle it. She decided she would be on standby though, if it all kicked off.

  ‘I might have been away from my family, but they are still my family. And this is my uncle’s funeral, so I’m just saying, if ya wanna get bladdered, go down the pub.’

  Zara was impressed with how cool Ricky was.

  Fuelled by drink and feeling invincible, Gerry spat back. ‘You’re a cocky cunt, living off ya ol’ man’s reputation, ain’t ya? Well, you ain’t him, and one more word, boy, and I’ll flip you right on ya bottle and glass. Now, fuck off, ’cos I’m ’aving a private conversation with me pal.’

  Still keeping his voice low, Ricky bit back. ‘I said, if you wanna act like you’re at a wedding, then go and finish your jolly down the pub.’

  Gerry had the crystal cut-glass tumbler to his mouth when he stopped and scowled at Ricky. ‘Ya know what? Ya ain’t gonna fucking give up, are ya, boy?’

  With his hands gripped together in front of him and his head nodding rhythmically, Ricky, now having his daring hat on, replied, ‘You heard me, and if you wanna argue the point, then me and you will politely take this outside, away from my grandparents.’

  Gerry studied Ricky and then looked back at his mate. ‘Did I hear the boy right? Was he offering me out or fucking what?’

  George, who wasn’t half as pissed as his friend, was still watching the expression on Ricky’s face and decided not to get involved. If the boy was half the man his father was, then they’d both be in for a right good hiding, and there were enough men just in this one room who would back Ricky. ‘Gerry, leave it, mate. He’s just a kid, and, to be honest, I wanna get a move on. Me dogs need a walk and ol’ Polly will be wanting her bed soon.’

  Gerry placed his brandy on the coffee table, gave Ricky another hard look, up and down, and made his way towards the door. ‘Come on, Claudia, we’re going.’

  Claudia didn’t have to be asked twice; she was up on her stilettos, hobbling behind him.

  Zara tapped Ricky on the shoulder. ‘I’m proud of you, Ricky. You handled that with manly class.’

  His face instantly changed. The eyes, which glinted like steel, revealing the man he would soon become, suddenly softened, and, at once, he became a lad again. Unexpectedly, he kissed Zara on the cheek. ‘Well, I’m learning from the best.’

  Just as Claudia passed Gloria, she gave her a filthy look and couldn’t help herself in giving a final dig. ‘Your precious son ain’t nuffin now. Look at ya. Ya all walk around with ya nose in the fucking air. Well, there are men out there who’ll eat your son for breakfast.’

  Gloria was trying to act the perfect host; but listening to this blonde bimbo has-been talking out of her arse was giving her serious palpitations. She had to bite down hard on her back teeth to hold in the rage.

  ‘My Gerry only came over here to have a nosey, to see who still crawls up Mike’s arse. Well, it ain’t us anymore.’

  Those words hit Gloria like a concrete post and immediately her cool demeanour transformed into something more akin to that of a raging lunatic. In one swift movement, she swung her fist and landed Claudia a punch so hard that it knocked her against the wall. It didn’t end there, as Gloria followed it up by gri
pping Claudia’s long curls, and, despite her small stature, began to swing her full circle. Claudia screamed as she could feel all her hair start to come away from her head. It was her pride and joy, probably her best asset, and she’d just spent over two hundred quid at the hairdresser’s the day before to get it perfect for today’s occasion. The room suddenly went deathly quiet. Zara and Ricky rushed over to find Gloria clutching clumps of hair amid flying arms and legs. Despite her one hand, Zara managed to pull Gloria away.

  Gerry had reached his car before he realized that his wife wasn’t behind him. He went back into the house to give her a mouthful only to see that Claudia had suffered a right mauling. Her hair was a matted mess, her right cheek was already showing signs of a large bruise, and both her lips were bleeding profusely.

  Once the news had spread to the dining room – which was at the other end of the huge house – Mike, Willie, Staffie, and Lou rushed into the lounge to sort out the carnage. But they were too late.

  As Gerry attempted to drag his wife away from this scene of humiliation, Gloria hollered after them, ‘Say one more word about my family, ya fucking old whore, and I’ll cut ya throat!’

  Mike stood in front of his mother and stared at Gerry. ‘What the fuck was all that about, and, more to the point, who invited you back to me muvver’s house?’

  ‘Go fuck yaself, Regan. You ain’t nuffin now. And don’t stand there all mouth and trousers. Your brother was more of a fucking man than you. At least he died holding his head high. He wasn’t a snitch like you.’

  No sooner had Gerry got the words out of his mouth than Mike was in his face. With one almighty crack to the head, Gerry stumbled back on his arse.

  Lou, Willie, and Staffie pounced on Mike in seconds, pulling him away before he got himself nicked. ‘Leave the little prick alone. He’s obviously had too much to drink,’ said Lou.

  But Gloria was livid and totally in the zone. It took a lot to wind her up, but when it happened, she was unstoppable. ‘You, Gerry Reynolds, are nuffin but a big man in a fucking cheap suit with a bleedin’ great chip on ya shoulder. Now fuck off while you still have two kneecaps.’