by KERRY BARNES
What? Zara was now fuming. ‘Mike’s wife? Don’t make me laugh. Mike wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire, so cut the crap.’
Jackie laughed. ‘Aw, no?’ She looked down at her bare legs. ‘He didn’t say that earlier when he was all over me, love! He was in seventh heaven, having my two hands ripping at his back, when he was fucking the life out of me. But I guess you can’t give him that feeling, can ya?’
Jackie had assumed too much. Zara wasn’t a woman to stand there and have a slanging match – far from it. Without taking her eyes off Jackie, Zara slid her hand into the pocket of her jacket and extracted a black glove.
Jackie laughed again. ‘You think that covers your ugly truth, do ya?’
As Jackie revelled in winding Zara up, she never expected it to be anything more than a verbal catfight.
Totally unprepared, Jackie watched the sorrowful expression on Zara’s face cruise to a half-smile; it was almost a smirk. Without any warning and like the swift movement of a bird’s wing, the gloved prosthetic hand came from nowhere, striking Jackie clean across the cheek and up under her nose. The clout instantly knocked Jackie off her feet and onto the floor. Yet this wasn’t a normal backhander; a very odd sensation caused Jackie to touch her face. To her horror, she could feel her cheek almost hanging off her face and the warm, wet, and sticky liquid trickling through her hands and down her wrists. It took a second before she realized that Zara had sliced her face wide open. Her eyes bulged in fear as she stared up at the woman’s ice-cold expression. Slipping and sliding on the marble floor, trying to get away from the demonic woman holding her hand up in a threatening stance, Jackie couldn’t breathe from disbelief. Cowering in fear, she begged Zara not to hurt her again.
‘Don’t fuck with me, Jackie, because there are things that I can do that would put the Devil to shame. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving. It’ll be your neck I’ll slice!’
Jackie was now gripping her loose cheek with both hands, trembling in complete horror. She daren’t look up, too afraid to lock eyes with the woman who she’d completely underestimated.
Jackie was no stranger to a fight, but what Zara had done to her was out of her league. That slap alone was as harsh as any grown man’s, yet it wasn’t the violence, but the cold assured look in Zara’s eyes that scared the living shit out of her.
Zara stared down at the state of Jackie huddled in a ball. ‘I just hope Mike knows what he’s doing, letting a cunt like you back into Ricky’s life. You really don’t deserve that boy.’
The reality of what had just happened kicked in as soon as she heard Zara leave the room; Jackie let out an almighty scream and then scrambled to her feet to make her way to Mike. The second she got to the doorway of the lounge, he was up on his feet, trying to focus. The high-pitched, blood-curdling sound had dragged him from his slumbers and made him jump up and stagger from side to side.
He blinked furiously at the sight before him, trying to reason in his mind what he was seeing. At first, he didn’t recognize Jackie because the last time he’d laid eyes on her, she was younger, blonde, and not dripping with blood.
‘Help me, Mike, please!’ she cried.
He rushed forward and removed her hand to see two folds of skin shrivelling away from her cheek.
‘What the fuck have you done?’
Her face was now swelling up, and her teeth began to chatter in shock. ‘It was Zara. She attacked me.’
‘What! She was here?’ he exclaimed.
‘She fucking attacked me. Mike, please, get me to a hospital!’
But his mind was now on Zara. ‘Christ, what did she say?’
‘She wanted to kill me. She said she would slit my throat. Please, Mike. Help me.’
Gripping both her shoulders, he backed her out of the lounge and into the hallway where the blood could easily be cleaned up from the marble floor so as not to ruin the cream carpet. ‘Wait there. I’ll call an ambulance.’
Jackie was now tasting the blood in her mouth. Once the shock began to wear off, her mind went into survival mode. ‘Hurry, Mike. Please, I’m bleeding to death. That evil bitch will get five years for this.’
Having just finished calling for an ambulance, Mike heard the last of her mutterings. ‘What the fuck did you just say?’
Through swollen eyes, she glared back. ‘I said she’ll get at least a five-stretch for what she’s done to my fucking face.’
‘You won’t tell the Ol’ Bill it was her. You’re gonna tell ’em you slipped with a Stanley knife and cut ya own face. Got it?’
‘And why would I do that?’ she snivelled.
‘Because, Jackie, you’re lucky I ain’t already fucking murdered you. But if you so much as ever mention that woman’s name, I’ll kill ya, and I won’t care if I get a life sentence for it. You’re an evil bitch, and I only wanted you here for Ricky’s sake, but you’ve hardly been here five minutes and have already caused mayhem.’
Even the pain and anxiety of having her face scarred for life didn’t stop the pound signs flashing up. She cried again. ‘Okay, Mike, whatever you want, but please help me.’ She held out the palms of her bloodied hands and revealed the gruesome sight of her gaping cheek.
For a brief moment, Mike actually felt sorry for her; she did look a right mess, and he knew no matter how well they stitched her up, she would still be horrifically scarred.
The ambulance arrived, and Mike helped her into the back before he stepped away, to the surprise of the paramedic. ‘Sir, don’t you want to come with us?’
He shook his head. ‘I would, but my son is critically ill, and I need to go to another hospital.’
The paramedic gave Mike a questioning stare. With a sigh of dismay and a shrug of his shoulders, the paramedic entered the ambulance, leaving Mike to watch the vehicle as it headed down his drive.
***
Zara was waiting for a cab at the entrance to Mike’s property. She watched the ambulance depart and shuddered. This wasn’t really what she was all about – hideously scarring a woman’s face through jealousy. Yet why should she feel guilty? After all the heartache Jackie had put them through, she’d had the nerve to stand there in nothing but Mike’s shirt. Just by ridiculing her and deliberately reminding her that she was less than a full woman amounted to provocation. Well, Jackie, you wanted a fight so now you’ve had one – stitch that bitch!
Deep in contemplation, she hadn’t noticed a car pull up alongside her, until a low voice called out, ‘Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?’ It was Eric.
Zara looked over and was met with a beaming smile.
‘Have you seen Mikey?’ he asked, as he turned off the engine and stepped out of the car.
She shook her head. ‘He was asleep when I left.’
‘Are you going home?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah. There’s nothing here for me now.’
Eric sensed the sad tone. ‘Jump in. I’ll give you a lift.’
Zara slid into the plush interior and quickly removed her glove, slipping it into her bag.
Eric clocked the prosthetic hand right away. ‘When did you have that fitted?’
Now embarrassed, she slid her false hand out of view. ‘Oh, that? Yeah, well, er, a few days ago. It’s just a temporary one until my doctor has the real thing made up for me. I just thought it would stop people staring.’
‘Zara, you’re probably imagining that because I should think anyone looking at you would be drawn in by your eyes alone.’
There was an awkward silence as she stared ahead. She didn’t want to be sucked in by Eric’s affections, not now. So she changed the subject. ‘I didn’t know Mike was back with Jackie.’
Eric felt a sudden rush of excitement. He had to think carefully before he spoke. ‘Well, stranger things can happen. Anyway, how did ya know?’
‘I stupidly let myself in to see if I could help Mike in any way. What with Ricky being in hospital, I dunno, I thought that I should put behind us what happened after the party and go and give my sup
port, but, well . . . I guess, I left it a bit too long and . . . ’ Her voice cracked.
Good. This was his chance to put the boot in. ‘Well, I’m not surprised. He took up with Jackie right after you left the first time, all those years ago. Our Mikey ain’t one for hanging about, ya know. Anyway, what happened? Did ya just leave?’
A sudden concern gripped her throat. ‘Oh, fuck no. Jackie was taking the piss, so I gave her a swipe and cut her face. Maybe it was a bit OTT, but it made me feel a lot better! Anyway, Mike was still asleep, so I just left. I bet the bitch grasses me up, though.’
Eric gasped. ‘Shit! Yeah, she fucking will. Listen, you can’t go back home. Ya need to keep low for a while until I get a chance to talk to her. She’ll listen to me. She always has. How badly did you swipe her?’
‘I think I’ve taken half her face off.’
A short chuckle left Eric’s mouth. ‘That’ll teach her for being two-faced.’
Zara smiled. ‘Really, Eric, that ain’t funny.’
‘Yeah, it is. She’s a right horrible woman. She deserved that, but, anyway, I’ll take you to mine, and we can figure it out from there.’
Zara needed time to think things over and decided his place was probably the safest for the moment. However, she had to know what Eric was up to. He seemed to know more about her business than he really should. And there was one burning question to which she needed an answer. ‘Eric, the other day, when I left you on the Old Kent Road, I need to know something, and I trust you will be upfront with me.’
In a panic, his mind went back to what he may have inadvertently let slip. ‘Yeah, go on,’ he said, determined to keep his tone as even as possible.
‘Well, that night, why did you go to Antonio’s, my restaurant?’ She remained silent, waiting for a feasible explanation.
‘What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Come on, Eric. Tell me the truth, please.’
He turned into a side road, stopped the car, and turned to face her. His expression was deadly serious. ‘Zara, I swear to God, I’ve never been to your restaurant. I’ve no idea what you’re on about.’
Her heart suddenly beat faster. She was alone in the car with a man nearly the size of Mike, and she was confronting him without even really knowing how the hell he would react. She also shocked herself with such a stupid, dangerous idea, yet she wanted confirmation she was right. Eric had just lied to her.
‘You were seen going there. You got out of your car and read the notice on the door.’
The cogs were turning as Eric thought of who would have told her. He had to play it cool and not come across as aggressively defensive. ‘Oh, sorry, yes, of course. You mean the restaurant in Peckham?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, Eric. What were you doing there?’
‘I overheard you talking to that Davey fella at the hospital. I know it was none of my business, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. The fact of the matter is, I don’t trust the Lanigans. I don’t really trust anyone. I only had good intentions, though, I promise. And I heard you say something about a note on the door and I thought I would just check. I’m sorry. I know you can handle your own affairs. I just care, that’s all.’
She looked into his eyes to see if there was even a flicker of a lie. ‘But why, Eric? What the hell am I to you? And, more to the point, what does Mike think about your actions?’
He lowered his gaze. ‘He doesn’t know. I’m not sure he would even care. The man has his own mission that he needs to accomplish, whatever that is. I understand why he didn’t want me back on the firm right away. I guess we drifted apart when I didn’t visit him, but, anyway, that’s just how it is. Mike was locked up for a long time, and now he’s out, he’s acting reckless, running after bits of skirt that put it out there for him, when he could have a decent woman like you.’ He drifted off the subject.
Zara felt her eyes were about to fill up again, so she took a deep breath. ‘So, if Mike’s not interested, why are you looking out for me?’
A gentle smile spread across his face. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
The thought of Eric fancying her was strange. He looked a lot like Mike. He was the same big build and hair colour. Eric had larger eyes, and from the point of view of many women, he would probably have been classed as the better looking. Yet he didn’t have Mike’s qualities, his manner, or his self-control that people either feared or respected. However, Eric’s face seemed to light up when she looked his way. What was she thinking? He was Mike’s brother. She shouldn’t be looking into his eyes that way or studying his physique. It was Mike she loved.
‘Look, I’m sorry, Zara. Just forget everything I’ve said. You can stay at mine for a while. I can stay at Mum’s.’
She suddenly took a deep breath. ‘No, it’s fine, Eric. You have a spare room, I take it?’
With a glow on his cheeks, he laughed. ‘Yep. Four, actually!’
‘Blimey, you’re doing all right for yourself. Four, eh?’ She tried to make light of the serious mood.
He wasn’t sure if she was joking and instantly retorted, ‘Why would you say that? Mike has a bigger drum than me.’
‘Oh no, sorry. I was just making light of it, that’s all.’
They continued the journey, with Eric feeling awkward and Zara wondering more and more if she’d made the right decision.
She was surprised how close Eric’s house was to Mike’s. What shocked her even more though was that inside the décor was almost identical. The cream carpets, the marble hallway, and even the sofas were an exact match. She blinked and told herself she was overthinking things.
‘This is lovely, Eric.’
He smiled as a wave of tenderness washed over him. She looked at home here in his large lounge. He could see her sitting on the sofa sipping herbal tea and sharing sweet conversation.
His perfect picture fizzled out when she said, ‘You don’t mind me using a spare room . . . ? It will only be for a day or so, until the dust settles. I just need to know that Jackie hasn’t put me in the frame.’
‘Oh yeah, sure, of course. I’ll show you upstairs.’
She followed him up the luxurious deep pile carpeted stairs and into the last room on the left. It was a spacious room with sumptuous bed covers set on a large ornate bedframe. Taken aback by the sheer design, she turned and grinned. ‘This is lovely, Eric. You must give me the number of your designer.’
‘Designer? Oh no, this was all my idea. I like to keep a nice home and have my guests feeling comfortable.’
She smiled again and moseyed around the room, admiring the furniture and curtains. As she turned, with her back to the window, he was still standing there. The moment was awkward, sending a shiver up Zara’s spine.
Eric sensed she was ill at ease and instantly responded. ‘I’m glad you like it. Right, I must go. I’ve some stuff to do, so make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge and stacks of coffee and brandy, so just help yourself. Through there’ – he pointed to a side door – ‘is an en suite shower room, but if you prefer a bath, it’s just across the landing.’
She smiled out of relief. ‘Thank you so much, Eric. I really appreciate your kindness.’
‘No worries, love. There you are.’ He put a small bunch of keys on the bed. ‘You can come and go as you please. Treat this as your own home.’
He gave her another beaming smile and left. Zara waited until she heard the front door close before she relaxed her shoulders. She didn’t really have much of a choice as to where she should stay, so this had to do for the moment. The idea of a long soak in the bath was appealing; the mere thought of specks of Jackie’s blood left on any strands of her hair repulsed her. She made her way across the bright and well-lit landing and went into the bathroom. Again, she admired the décor and the size of it. She grinned when she spotted all the men’s products and counted at least six bottles of Joop! aftershave. He always smelled sweet. Yet so did Mike.
She thought her life was getting crazier
by the minute.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Davey Lanigan received the news that Ricky was in hospital and discovered from Zara that she was now staying at Eric’s until she knew either way if she was to be arrested for slashing Mike’s wife’s face. He wondered if Zara was actually the brutally jealous type; nevertheless, she was still the woman in charge of half of his business, and he would have to show her respect.
They arranged to meet at Antonio’s before the opening. Zara arrived ahead of time and let herself in. It was a strange feeling because she’d only ever been there when the restaurant was either closing for the night or just opening up to prepare for their customers. She’d never gone alone and so this time it seemed eerie. There was no gentle humming of fridges or any other white noise. She could hear a pin drop. The décor had been updated since she’d last seen it. Antonio had ensured the place was kept up to a high standard. It seemed an excellent way to keep any nosey busybodies from suspecting anything other than a good pasta dish being served.
She looked at the small bar area and on the far wall she saw photos of Antonio and his sons, the youngest just a toddler. Antonio appeared to have aged well, judging by the pictures.
The restaurants were her idea and one that had impressed her father the most. Supplying the upper-class cocaine addicts with their weekly fix, all under the guise of a restaurant, it was a win-win for all concerned. She had taken the initiative to buy the businesses and allow the Italians to run it rent-free as long as they kept up the sales of the cocaine. It had suited Izzy and the tenants. She ground her teeth when she thought about some threatening gang taking over. So far, they hadn’t actually managed to force their way in. They’d only had success in frightening the managers to close the operation down. Yet she wasn’t going to stand for it, not while her name was on the deeds, and if whoever was running this bunch of thugs wanted to argue the point, then she was all up for a war. In fact, when she and Davey were discussing the matter a while ago, she’d said to him, ‘Bring it on!’
