by KERRY BARNES
Colin muttered something, which had Mike on his feet. ‘’Ere, drink this. It’ll help.’
Colin’s head lolled sideways as he tried to focus. The brandy on his lips made him wince, but the cool amber nectar trickling down his throat made him realize he was still alive. The warmth as it hit his stomach provided some relief. A few more gulps and he felt his taut body relax.
As Mike gave Colin more to drink, he heard Zara behind him.
‘Fucking hell, Mike, what’s that smell?’
Mike stepped away and raised his brow. ‘What d’ya think? Look at the state of him. Willie has scared the man to death. Anyway, I’ve sent Willie home.’
Zara nodded. ‘Yeah, I said goodbye.’ Looking at Colin, she said, ‘We need to get him cleaned up before he drowns in his own crap. Christ, he smells rank.’
Mike tutted. ‘I know. I feel sick.’
‘Get him in the shower, clean him up, and stick some clothes on him. I want him compos mentis.’
Mike turned his head and glared at Zara. ‘Hey, what’s with the bleedin’ orders?’
‘Someone’s got to see the plan through. So far, it’s been me. Willie’s just gone all ham, egg, and chips; you look like you need some sleep; and that bastard there, he won’t last another twenty-four hours unless he gets rest, food, and …’
‘And what?’
‘He needs some serious drugs. I’ll sort that out while you get him cleaned up.’
Mike laughed, now in a more relaxed mood, since it was clear that Zara was making sense. ‘Leave the mess to me, why don’t ya.’
Zara winked and left Mike to it. She knew that upstairs there was a box of morphine, enough to keep Colin out of too much pain. Aware that he was well beyond the point of no return, she assumed he’d probably welcome death. However, even to the bitter end, there was always that instinct to survive. She just hoped it was the same for Colin because the call he needed to make was vital to her plans.
* * *
Amanda Wells wandered around Colin’s office fussing and polishing his desk. She looked at a blank computer screen, at his gold pens all neatly lined up, and felt another surge of frustration. Nothing made sense. In the early days, she would have freely admitted to herself that she’d been just his PA with benefits on both sides. He would screw the life out of her, and she would have her holidays paid for.
Nevertheless, that was a long time ago. Now, she hoped – indeed assumed – that in the last few years their relationship had moved on to a much more formal footing. He took her out for meals and … well, there really wasn’t an ‘and’ as such. It was perhaps more to do with the way he indulged her. He gave her respect and he treated her with consideration – almost as an equal – although both knew that this ‘relationship’ was not based on anything other than mutual need. For there were no promises of anything serious like a marriage proposal or moving in together, but, still, he had become more attentive in a caring kind of way.
She stared out of the window and sighed. Perhaps it was all wishful thinking on her part. She had to assume he was in Spain working on the redevelopment because it wasn’t as if he didn’t make decisions on the spur of the moment. And he wouldn’t confide his movements to her at the drop of a hat. He didn’t answer to her. She wasn’t his wife. Really, it wasn’t any of her business what he did and when he did it. She was told that if he wasn’t around, she was to use her charm and delay meetings and appointments. So, why did she have this awful feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach?
Her thoughts were dragged from the depths of despair when Raff walked in.
As soon as she laid eyes on him, her heart sank; she’d so hoped it would be Colin. ‘Raff, where is Colin? I can’t get hold of him, and he hasn’t contacted me.’ She choked on her words, trying not to get emotional. ‘He didn’t even call me over Christmas.’
Raff smiled, almost mocking her feelings. ‘And why would he call his secretary, ’cos that really is all you are, ain’t it?’
His words hit a nerve. She glanced up at him and saw the smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Something about that remark and the look on his face made him seem different, less respectful. It was yet another sign that things were not all they should be in her life. Smoothing her dark hair that was so tightly pulled back in a bun that it dragged her eyes up at the sides, she pretended to be focused on her computer monitor.
Raff stared at her face and wondered how old she actually was. Probably around forty or maybe forty-five, he thought. She was too strait-laced for his tastes. And, more annoyingly, the bitch always looked at him with her nose in the air. But she definitely had one thing in common with old Crawford. Looking down at his desk, observing the precise arrangement of the pens, he knew her own office was just as tidy. They clearly had a touch of OCD.
With her face like thunder, she hissed, ‘Raff, where is he?’
‘He has some business to attend to, okay? I just need to pick up some files.’
Amanda looked him up and down as if there was a bad smell in the room. ‘Well, he hasn’t told me, so please leave his office until he gives me the okay.’ She would have the last say; she had just made that clear.
Raff nodded. ‘Right, I’ll tell him.’
She rose to barge past him but stopped dead in her tracks. ‘How exactly will you tell him, if he’s not answering his phone?’
Raff laughed. ‘Amanda, he has more than one fucking phone.’
‘Well, can you give me his other number? I need to talk to him. I’ve had the staff asking where he is, and I’ve had a number of business clients on the phone. I’ve been by his house, but he’s not there. So, Raphael, please just give me his number.’
Raff was enjoying the frustration in her voice, although he was seriously irritated by her calling him ‘Raphael’. Only his mother called him that, usually when she was in a bad mood.
‘Look, if he wanted you to have it, he would’ve given it to you. Stalking him won’t do you any favours.’
Steeling herself, Amanda fumed, ‘I’m not stalking him. I need to get hold of him. Now, Raphael, fuck off, and tell Colin to call me, or he won’t see any fucking files.’
Raff gave an exaggerated wide-eyed look as if he was profoundly shocked at her language. Following her out of the room, he watched as she locked the door and stomped off back to her own office.
* * *
The clock in the downstairs main reception area showed three minutes to two, and if he was right, she would appear soon for her lunch break. The security guard was showing him some funny scene on YouTube. Raff had his back to the lift, but, right on cue, the lift doors opened and out she came. He continued laughing with the guard until Amanda was out of the door and on the high street.
‘Snooty bitch,’ mumbled the security guard.
Raff tapped his arm. ‘I bet she’s good in bed, though. That type always are.’
‘She must be good at summat, ’cos ol’ Mr Crawford’s banging her.’
After ten minutes of bantering, Raff headed back up in the lift to Amanda’s office and waited by the phone. Right on time, it rang. He listened for the six rings, his heart working overtime. On the sixth ring, the phone went straight over to answerphone. He listened carefully because he knew there could be no mistakes.
‘Flossie, it’s Colin … When Raff arrives, give him all my files and the hard drives …’
Raff held his breath; the man sounded very tired.
‘Flossie, I … I’ve sold the company … Someone else will be taking over. I’m not well, so I want everything, um … sorted out before I … Just do it.’
The pause was long, and Raff wondered if that was the end of the call. If so, something wasn’t right because the message didn’t sound very convincing.
‘You and the others will get a payoff … but I want to be left in peace … I’m sorry.’
Good, Raff thought. That was enough. Now he was able to breathe more easily. Although Colin sounded tired and ill, if he himself hadn’t been aware of th
e truth, he would certainly have believed the message left by Colin to be genuine.
Amanda returned precisely at 3 p.m. He could have set his watch by her.
Cross with herself for forgetting to lock her office before she’d headed out to lunch, she glared with spite in her dark-brown eyes at this hireling sitting at her desk. ‘I thought I told you to leave. There’s no need for you to be here if Colin isn’t present. Besides, you’re just his … What are you, exactly, Raphael? A bodyguard, an arse licker? Tell me?’
Raff got up from her chair and sat on the edge of her desk. Looking through her diary, he grinned at her.
She snatched it from his hands and glared. ‘I’ve told you once already. Now, just fuck off.’
‘And I told you, I need his files. You might wanna check your messages because he said he would call you. But you were out shopping,’ he sniggered, ‘for a new personality, no doubt.’
Amanda was about to launch a verbal retort, but when she saw the red flashing light on her answerphone, she thought better of it and instead pressed the play button.
Raff stood up from the desk and studied her face intently as she listened. Instantly, she put her hands to her mouth and looked at Raff. ‘Oh my God, is he really ill? Like, is he dying or what?’
Raff shrugged his shoulders. ‘Who knows?’ he said, casually. ‘He wants to sell up, to retire. That’s all you need to know.’
‘But if he’s sick, who will look after him? I mean, I need to see him.’
‘Didn’t you hear the message, love? He wants to be left alone, in peace. You’ll have your redundancy, along with everyone else. But get the message, Amanda or Flossie, or whatever you wanna be called. Colin Crawford wants to be left alone.’
With a vindictive sneer, she replied, ‘You have no idea about Colin and me. We go back a long way, and if he’s ill then he will want me there.’
Shaking his head, Raff gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘No, love. Ya see, you may have been his bit on the side, but he loved his wife, and when she found out about your little affair, she refused chemotherapy and died, and so, really, on the face of it, you killed her. He’s talking with his daughter now, and so you need to fucking back off.’
With her hands shaking, Amanda dropped the diary on the desk. She tried to stop herself from letting rip, but the urge was too great.
‘That little money-grabbing bitch is only after him for what she can get! Christ alive, he must be sick if he’s letting her back into his life,’ she yelled.
Raff laughed sarcastically. ‘Yeah, I thought you’d hate that idea. But I guess, with Christmas good cheer and all that, Colin saw the light – a bit like Scrooge, I suppose. Anyway, enough talking about family reunions. Colin wants the hard drives and files pronto, or …’
‘Or what?’ she squawked, now fuming.
‘Or, Amanda, you’ll receive the statutory state pension, and not a generous payoff. It’s your fucking choice.’
The thought that Colin would do that to her had her upping her rant big time. ‘What? What a devious fucking bastard. Well, bollocks to him and his conniving fucking daughter. I know enough about his dodgy dealings. I could have that man locked up for a very long time, so he can’t threaten me with that shit!’
Raff shook his head and grinned. ‘Amanda, you ain’t nothing but an office worker, are ya? Seriously, you don’t think Colin would tell you anything that would have him pulled in for questioning, do ya?’ He laughed again as he continued to shake his head. ‘I dunno, you silly office tarts really think you know it all. Look around ya. Take a good look, love. You seriously think he would own all of this and everything else if the likes of you could have it all taken away in less than a heartbeat. Well, do ya?’
Her mouth gaped open in shock. Suddenly, she saw the light. Of course, Raff was right. She tried to think what she really did have on Colin, but the truth was that it was only little bits and pieces that in the eyes of the law would amount to fuck all.
Without another word, she pulled a key from her pocket, opened a desk drawer, snatched a large bunch of keys, and threw them at him. ‘The other keys to his cabinets and all the hard drives are in the top drawer in his desk. And you can tell him from me he was a useless shag anyway and I want a decent payout, or I’ll do some digging, and, in fact, I’ll make it my life’s mission to bring that bastard down!’
She sat heavily on her chair, grabbed the phone, and stared at Raff. ‘Well, what the hell do you want now?’
‘What are you doing, Amanda?’
She returned his sarcastic grin. ‘Calling Mr Glover. You honestly didn’t think I’d take your word for it, did you?’
Raff felt uneasy. He’d never anticipated that. He just prayed that Zara had that side of the business taken care of. He waited and listened but was only able to hear her voice. He watched her facial expressions, though, trying to work out what was being said at the other end of the call.
‘So the company has been taken over, then? And are you sure the money has gone into his account?’
Her face was white and her tone vicious as she growled down the phone, ‘And you don’t find that unusual?’
Whatever Colin’s lawyer was saying, it was obviously pissing her off.
‘I know it’s not my business but … well, Colin never said anything to me and …’
The expression of being so insulted fixed itself on her face before she slammed the phone down and glared at Raff. ‘What do you want now?’ she hissed.
Laughing inside, Raff was impressed: Zara had pulled off a masterstroke. Using Colin’s illegal money to buy his own businesses but in her name was pure genius.
‘Oh, sorry, Amanda, didn’t I tell you? He wants the staff, including you, to finish up today. The new owners will be moving in on Monday, and they have their own staff.’
With a face like a smacked arse, Amanda leaped from her chair, swiped the computer from the desk, snatched her bag and coat, and stormed off, slamming the door behind her.
Raff laughed. It was the best thing he’d seen in a long time. His mind went back to Mrs Crawford, the lovely wife of Colin’s. She’d always been so kind to him as a lad, and the day she died – he knew why – it was the day he hated Amanda. He’d waited a long time to see her haughty face drop in humiliation. All in all, it hadn’t been a bad day’s work.
Chapter 22
As soon as Lance marched through the hallway into the lounge he paused and smiled. Poppy and Brooke were putting together a beautiful flower arrangement. They stopped and looked up, beaming. ‘Dad, you’re back. We were just—’
He laughed before Poppy could finish. ‘Yeah, I get it. The lads are spoiling you rotten.’
Brooke got up from the table and dropped her smile. ‘No, Dad, we were just going to the cemetery.’ She pointed to the arrangement. ‘For Kendall.’
He sighed. ‘Oh, sorry, yes, of course. It would’ve been her birthday today.’ He swallowed, trying to control his emotion.
Brooke unexpectedly linked arms with him. ‘It’s okay. You’ve been busy, and I guess we have too.’
Sitting down at the table, Lance admired his daughters. They had changed in a short space of time, from timid, geeky, and naive students to confident and positively glowing young ladies. He wondered if it was the influence from Arty and Liam, or the fact that they were out of their mother’s repressive home. Either way, it was a joy to see.
‘So, girls, it’s probably time to think about going back to uni. What d’ya think?’
Brooke giggled. ‘Well, we may have a really good opportunity lined up.’
Lance raised his eyebrow. ‘Oh yeah, and what would that be?’
Poppy laughed and blushed. ‘We will be working for the Regan firm.’
Jerking his head and pulling a tight face, Lance sternly asked, ‘What d’ya mean?’
‘Dad! Don’t look so worried. It will all be legitimate. We are going into property development with Liam, Arty, and Ricky. I mean, what do they even know about business and
accounts?’
Lance let out a relieved laugh. ‘Well, I can see you two have been investing in a future. But, don’t let the boys take advantage.’
It was Poppy’s turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘It might be too late for that, and, Dad, we aren’t kids, you know.’
He looked from one to the other. ‘You are to me, and you always will be.’
* * *
Shelley looked in the mirror at her yellow bruises and decided today that she would cover them up. Milking it, to gain sympathy from Nicolas, had worn thin. Being forced to stay at his house was initially an outrage, but she had to admit to herself that seeing him again had stirred feelings. She guessed he wasn’t best pleased having her here, but from what she could gather, he didn’t have much choice.
‘Shell!’ he called. ‘Get ya arse down ’ere, babe. I’ve got some papers for you to sign!’
Shelley was working on her appearance at the dressing table in one of the many spare bedrooms in Nicolas’s home. After adding another layer of foundation, and smoothing down her hair, she excitedly made her way downstairs and shimmied into the lounge. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon sandwiches made her mouth water.
‘’Ere she is, my shining glory.’ Nicolas beamed.
Shelley rolled her eyes, knowing he was being sarcastic. She nodded at the man in the suit, surmising he was the solicitor.
‘Shell, this is Brandon Miles, a lawyer. He has the deeds to that small complex in Spain that you wanted. All you have to do now, babe, is just scribble your name on the dotted lines, and it’s all yours.’
Shelley dreamed of having her own business, and the fact that her father was signing some of it over to her was even better. Nicolas had already informed her that her father had seen the error of his ways, with a little help from Mike Regan, and wanted to turn things around. From what she’d been told, her father had offered to hand over a share in the business to Liam as well, for all the boy had been through. It was seen as a gesture that he was putting things right. After all, Lucas couldn’t exactly give the kidney back.
