Over in Stepney, Maureen had problems of her own. ‘Johnny,’ she shouted as she knocked on her grandson’s bedroom door. ‘Dinner’s ready, love. I’ve cooked you your favourite, spag bol.’
Johnny lifted the quilt from over his head. ‘Thanks, Nan, I’ll have it later.’
Not knowing what to say to entice him out of the room, Maureen walked away. She knew that he wouldn’t eat it later – he’d throw it in the bin, like all the rest of the dinners he kept pretending to eat. Not hungry herself, Maureen dished a plate up for Ethel.
‘I’ve done you some dinner, Mum.’
Ethel looked at the tray in horror. ‘I ain’t eating that shit, it looks like a plate of fuckin’ worms.’
Maureen put it on the sofa beside her. The old cow would eat it in a minute, she’d put her house on it.
Face etched with worry, Maureen sat opposite her. It was a week now since Susan’s funeral and Johnny had barely eaten or come out of his bedroom. The job that he usually adored had gone by the wayside as well. It was as though he’d put his whole life on hold.
Seeing Ethel tuck into her plate of worms, Maureen smiled for the first time in days. Ethel might be a cantankerous old fucker, but she had a way of cheering Maureen up. As Ethel wolfed the lot, Maureen took the empty plate away from her.
‘Nice was it? I thought you didn’t like spaghetti bolognaise?’
Ethel eyed her with sarcasm. ‘It was fucking rotten,’ she insisted.
Maureen got a cloth and wiped what she’d dropped off her cardigan. ‘With a mouth as big as yours, I’m surprised you can miss it,’ she said sarcastically.
Ethel playfully walloped her. She loved her Maureen more than anyone in the world, and without her she’d be shunted off to God’s waiting room. She hated them fucking homes. Poor old souls, all sitting there in their own shit and piss, waiting to die.
Maureen poured her a Guinness and sat down next to her. ‘What we gonna do about Johnny, Mum? His boss keeps ringing up and he’s gonna have to go back to work next week. He still won’t come out of his room, I don’t know what else to do to help him.’
Ethel knew exactly what to do. ‘Ring his fucking father; it’s about time he stood up to his responsibilities. ’Ere, give us that phone, I’ll ring the no-good bastard for yer.’
Maureen refused to give Ethel the phone, but thought about her idea. Johnny needed guidance and Royston should bloody well take responsibility for once.
She smiled at Ethel. ‘Do you know what? I think you might be right, Mum. I’ll ring him tomorrow morning – hopefully he’ll be at work then. I don’t wanna ring him while he’s at home with his family; she’s a funny one that Jamaican bird he married.’
Sipping her drink, Ethel had a smug expression plastered across her wise old face. She might no longer be a spring chicken, but she was always fucking right.
Tommy didn’t bother going to bed that night, he was far too excited to be able to sleep. He looked at the clock: 5 a.m., which meant he still had three hours to kill. Opening up the piece of foil, he chipped off another piece of rock and set it up on top of the bottle. Setting it alight, he inhaled deeply through the straw. As he felt the cocaine flow through his body, he lay on the carpet and pictured Maria’s face.
Last night he’d done a bit of spying and he knew that James had gone away. He’d borrowed his mate’s work van and had hidden in the back of it. The windows were blacked out to stave off thieves nicking any tools that may be inside. In other words, you could see out, but couldn’t see in.
Tommy was on cloud nine as he watched his brother load the sleeping bag and all the camping equipment. It was obvious that he was going on a run and, from past experience, Tommy was sure that James would be away for a couple of days at least.
Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, he’d clambered into the front seat and calmly driven away. Once back home, he’d got his thinking cap on. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do to Maria, but obviously he’d have to wait until she’d taken the kids to school and was indoors alone. He wasn’t planning on physically hurting her. He just wanted to frighten the living daylights out of the foul-mouthed whore, or watch her beg in terror for a couple of hours – that would be good enough revenge. At least then she wouldn’t be so fucking cocky in the future. As long as he didn’t lose his temper and mark her, she would have to keep his visit quiet.
There was no way she’d say anything to James. How could she? She’d be far too worried about her sordid past coming back to haunt her.
Pouring himself another large scotch, Tommy smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see the look of horror on that pretty little face of hers. Fucking bitch. What goes around comes around.
‘Look at the bloody state of you, Lily. What have you been doing?’
Lily said nothing. She’d been playing outside in the garden, but daren’t admit it, as she was banned from going out there of a morning. Unfortunately, she had fallen into a puddle of mud, hence her mother’s anger.
‘Go upstairs and quickly get changed. Hurry up, else you’ll be late for school.’
Exasperated by her tomboy of a daughter, Maria turned to Tara and smiled. ‘Do you want me to plait your hair while we’re waiting for madam?’
‘Yes please, Mummy.’
Maria was deep in thought as she brushed her daughter’s hair. She loved the girls equally, but wished Lily would be more feminine, like Tara. It would save her an awful lot of washing and ironing, as she was such a dirty little mare.
‘I’m ready, Mum.’
Looking at Lily, both Maria and Tara burst out laughing. She’d changed her school uniform, but still looked like a bundle of shit tied up ugly. With one sock up and one down, one bunchie in and one out, she looked like Orphan Annie.
Maria straightened her out and cuddled her. ‘What am I gonna do with you, eh?’
Lily shook her head. ‘I don’t really know, Mummy.’
Maria saw the girls into the back of the four-wheel drive and checked that their belts were on. Hearing them giggle and chat was her favourite part of the journey. For complete opposites, they got on extremely well together and rarely ever argued. Glancing into her mirror, she smiled as she hit the accelerator.
Tommy watched with interest from the back of the van. Sneering to himself, he pulled faces as they drove past. They couldn’t see him, obviously, with the blackened windows, but secretly mocking them made him giggle.
Crouching down behind the two front seats, he opened his goody bag. He’d come well prepared: he had scotch, lager, puff and cocaine. He hadn’t brought the pipe, just the powder. Preparing a couple of lines, he did them and took a swig from the whisky bottle. She’d be back soon, the slag, and then the party could really start.
Maria had her own little routine of a morning and, after dropping the girls off, would regularly head off to her local gym to participate in a class or two. Today she’d done body combat and, having sweated like a pig for the past hour, she couldn’t wait to get home and have a nice soak in the bath.
Usually, she had a coffee and a chinwag at the gym, but today she was in a rush, as she’d invited her newfound friends over for lunch.
Last week she’d had lunch at Lavinia’s beautiful home. Now it was time to return the offer and she was determined to get it right. She’d always hated cooking and wasn’t very good at it but, determined to impress, she’d bought a recipe book. She didn’t want to attempt anything too difficult, and with James’s input and advice, she’d decided on garlic mussels for starters, salade Niçoise for main and fresh fruit salad for dessert. Desperate to get things spot-on, she’d spent ages choosing the wine.
‘How fucking much?’ James joked as he footed the bill.
She laughed. These women served up the finest of everything in their houses and she was determined to follow in their footsteps. She may not have been brought up in or around class, but it was never too late to learn. As her mother always said, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’
Pulling up on her drive, Maria grabbed her bag and ran up the path. Her guests were due to arrive in less than two hours and she needed to get her arse in gear.
As Tommy watched her go into the house, he noticed that he was sweating with nerves. He knew what the problem was: too much coke always made him feel paranoid and, as usual, he’d overdone it.
Rolling a joint, he lit it and knocked back the scotch. He needed to bring himself down before he did anything. Two joints and half a litre later, he felt the coke wear off and the paranoia leave his body. Checking that nobody was about, he crept out of the van.
He walked up the path and rang the doorbell. There was no answer, so he rang it again.
‘Who is it?’ he heard the bitch shout.
Smiling, he said nothing.
‘Is that you, girls?’ he heard her say.
‘Yes,’ he said imitating a girlie voice.
‘Hang on a sec, I’m just getting out of the bath.’
Tommy couldn’t believe his luck. He’d sounded like the big bad wolf in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, and the silly tart was probably half naked as well.
As her footsteps moved nearer, his heart began to beat faster. When she opened the door, he smiled at the look of horror on her face.
Barging his way in, he kicked the door shut and put his hand over her mouth to stop her screaming.
‘Surprise, surprise, you fuckin’ slag.’
THIRTY-NINE
Tommy had prepared himself for Maria being shocked; what he hadn’t prepared himself for was her physical strength.
‘Ouch,’ he yelled, as she bit his hand.
Her screams were loud, very loud. For a petite bird, she could really give it some welly.
As the blood ran down his wrist, he kneeled on her chest and squeezed her cheeks together with his hand. His blood dripped onto her face.
‘See what you’ve done, you fuckin’ bitch.’
Unable to speak or breathe properly because of the way he was holding her, Maria struggled to make herself heard. Realising that she was trying to tell him that he was hurting her, he moved closer to her face.
‘If you scream, we’ll be back to square one,’ he said, as he released his grip on her cheeks and took his knee off her chest. Straddling both legs across her, he sat on her hips to stop her from moving.
Maria didn’t know what to do. The house was big and detached and even if she did scream, chances were no bastard would hear her. She was furious with herself for opening the door. If only she had unlocked the bedroom window, she would have seen the identity of her caller. Rarely did anybody ever call at the house in the day, but because the girls were coming for lunch, she’d stupidly surmised that they’d arrived early.
Feeling Tommy’s eyes gawping at her barely concealed breasts, Maria shivered. She only had her bathrobe on and the fact that it could be so easily undone made her feel naked and vulnerable. In all the years Maria had known Tommy, she’d never been physically afraid of him before. She’d been scared that he might open his big mouth and ruin her happy marriage, but that had been about it.
As she looked into his glassy eyes, she realised that she’d seriously underestimated him. He was a definite fucking loony tune, with danger stamped all over him.
Her voice shook with fear. ‘What do you want, Tommy? James will be back soon and he’ll go mad if he finds you here.’
Tommy knew that she was talking bollocks and he started to laugh. ‘You must think I’m stupid, Maria, Jimmy boy’s away and you’re all alone. Don’t you think I’ve done my homework, you silly fuckin’ bitch?’
Unable to look at the psychopath’s face, Maria averted her eyes.
Tommy stood up and ordered her to stand. ‘I’m thirsty. You got any scotch?’
Maria nodded. Her arms and legs were shaking so much that she could barely move.
Clocking her fright, Tommy pushed her against the wall and tilted her chin. Kissing her gently on the lips, he smirked at her. ‘Not so trappy now, are you, sweetheart?’ he said, as he pulled away.
Repulsed, Maria began to cry. His breath was unwashed, tasted stale, and made her want to vomit. She retched and spluttered as she swallowed.
Tommy poured himself a large scotch and ordered her to sit on the sofa. Sitting opposite, he watched her intently.
‘You got any knickers on?’
Unable to find her voice, Maria shook her head. As she saw the big smile spread across his twisted face, she began to lose control. Her worst fears were confirmed as he walked towards her, grinning. ‘Undo that dressing gown and show me them pert little tits,’ he ordered.
More scared than ever before in her life, Maria let out one almighty scream.
Unaware of his wife’s ordeal, James was thoroughly enjoying his ham, egg and chips.
Ruby’s Café was a favourite of his and Freddie’s and, whenever on the south coast, they always popped in for a snack or two.
James nodded at his pal. ‘Pass us the tomato sauce, mate.’
Freddie handed it to him and smiled. Sitting waiting for their load to be dropped off the previous night, they’d had a good old heart to heart about their future.
James had already been to view the run-down property they were considering putting a bid in for. The house in Shenfield was owned by an old lady with no family. She’d recently gone into a care home and was wanting to sell the property cheaply and quickly to a buyer with no chain, who wasn’t going to mess her about. The house was going for peanuts, taking into account the size of it and the area it was in. It needed a hell of a lot of work done, but it was perfect for James and Freddie to start their new venture with.
‘It might take us six months to a year to put it right, but we should make at least a hundred and fifty grand on it,’ James insisted.
After a long discussion of what exactly needed doing and who they were going to get in to help them, Freddie agreed that it was just what they were looking for. The building work they could do themselves, and all they had to really pay out for was an electrician and a plumber.
Full of beans about their new set-up, Freddie couldn’t stop talking about it. He’d been sick of looking over his shoulder for ages now and he couldn’t wait to go legal. Wiping the last of the yolk off his plate with his crusty bread, he leaned towards James.
‘Do you know what? I don’t think we should wait till after Christmas. If we put a bid in when we get home tomorrow and the old bird accepts it, what do we wanna keep doing this for?’
James nodded. They didn’t want to chance their arses if they didn’t need to any more.
‘I know where you’re coming from, Fred, but we’re gonna have to give Bobby some notice.’
Freddie laughed. ‘What fucking notice? We ain’t working for NatWest bank. We’re doing this for ourselves and our family and the quicker we go straight, the better.’
James smiled. ‘Look, you know what I mean. He’s gotta find someone else to take over from us, we can’t leave him in the shit.’
Freddie bit his lip nervously. ‘Will you do us a favour, James? I’m dreading telling him and I can’t talk to him properly on the phone. If this comes off with the old girl’s property, will you fly out there with me and we’ll tell him together?’
James thought over the request for a minute or so and nodded. Bobby Adams had been bloody good to them over the years. A top bloke, he was as honest as they come and an absolute joy to work with. The least he deserved was a face-to-face explanation from the pair of them.
Freddie was relieved. ‘I’m going outside to ring Sarah and tell her our news,’ he said happily.
James looked at his watch. Maria should be back from the gym by now and he couldn’t wait to tell her their decision. She’d be well pleased; it would be such a weight off of her mind. He rang the landline and got no answer. About to try her mobile, he suddenly remembered that she was having the girls over for lunch. Not wanting to spoil her street cred, he decided to ring her later. She’d be far too busy impressing her new p
als to be able to talk to him.
Back in Ingatestone, Maria certainly was not enjoying herself. Tommy was still tormenting her and even though she’d punched him and slung a vase at his head, he’d proved far too strong for her. Completely drained by her ordeal, she’d now lost all of her fight and was doing as he asked.
‘Open them again wider this time. I want you to finger yourself and look at me while you’re doing it,’ he demanded.
Unable to stop herself from sobbing, Maria spread her legs and looked at his vulgar face. She hated him with a passion and had never felt so degraded in the whole of her life.
‘Just do it, you slag. Remember, whatever I ask yer to do, I’ve seen it all before,’ he callously reminded her.
As she did as he asked, she heard his breathing quicken.
‘Now, I want yer to take yer dressing gown off and show me that tight little pussy of yours. Lay on the floor and spread your legs as wide as you can,’ he demanded.
‘I can’t do this any more. Please leave me alone, Tommy. Please, I beg you, I swear I won’t tell James. If you leave now, I promise I won’t tell anyone you were here.’
Tommy walked threateningly towards her. ‘Shut up, you lying fuckin’ slag. Just do as I say, or I’ll rip them pretty little legs of yours open meself,’ he yelled.
Petrified of him touching her, she once again did as he requested.
As she played with herself, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was that rock hard, he felt that his cock was about to burst. That pretty face, gorgeous hair, her nakedness, she made him throb more than any woman he’d ever known. He’d never forget that night they’d spent together, even if he lived to be a hundred.
Thoroughly enjoying himself, Tommy ordered her to kneel on the floor with her arse facing him. ‘Now, lean against the sofa and spread the cheeks of your arse. I wanna look at you from the rear.’
As the doorbell rang, Maria screamed. ‘Help! Help me! Ring the –’
Tommy leaped on top of her and shoved his hand over her mouth. He moved her to the side of the sofa so no one could see them through the window. Maria fought and struggled, but couldn’t move him. The arrival of her lunch guests was the only chance she’d had of getting away from the bastard. As the doorbell rang three more times, she heard their voices calling her.
The Betrayer Page 31
