by Martina Cole
Chapter Eighty-Four
‘All right, James? Can I talk to you for a few moments? Nothing funny, I swear.’
James shrugged. ‘’Course.’ He was wary, though, in case Cain was going to go for him and get this over with.
‘I need a favour from you, James. I know you think you have an axe to grind, and that’s your prerogative but I want to call a truce until after my wedding. My Jenny is a great girl − she’s kind and soft and a really nice person who wouldn’t hurt a soul. I’m asking for her, really.’
James smiled suddenly. ‘’Course, mate. I’m happy enough to do that.’
Cain Moran smiled back.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Jenny Riley was on top of Caroline Moran, battering her to within an inch of her life. The years of upsets and late-night phone calls spewing abuse, all the insults to her child and the aggravation and demands for money were finally taking their toll on Jenny. But it was the woman’s battering of her that she really wanted to pay her back for. The beating that nearly ruined her life and that stopped her from ever having another child and that could have killed the only child she would ever have.
The people in the pub were as amazed as Molly, Eileen and Bella, as they watched Jenny give a woman at least three times her size the hiding of a lifetime. It was cold and it was calculating. Jenny was concentrating on her enemy’s eyes and nose, which were bloody and raw already and, worst of all, it was done without Jenny uttering one word. Eventually Jenny was dragged off Caroline by Freddie Marks, who pushed her out of the pub with the aim of calming her down. He had hoped he might see Jenny there, but when he walked in on the scene before him he thought he was hallucinating. Lovely, gentle Jenny Riley was beating up that fat bitch and doing it like a professional. Wonders would never cease.
Jenny was struggling to get back inside and finish what Caroline Moran had started all those years before. She had never in her life felt so angry and full of hatred. They heard the police arrive before they saw them, and the car was closely followed by an ambulance. It was the sound of sirens that finally allowed the reality of what she had done to sink in, and Jenny slumped into Freddie’s arms. Then the tears came. Freddie was quite happy to hold her and comfort her until it was time for him to deal with the authorities on her behalf. He felt like he was rescuing his very own damsel in distress.
Chapter Eighty-Six
Blokko was in a quandary. He wasn’t sure what he should do with some new-found information. His telephone calls had uncovered a very strange scenario, one he had never imagined before. He was annoyed that someone else could be so fucking snidey. Snidey but clever − very, very clever. It was so calculated, he couldn’t for the life of him work out how he could even attempt to rectify it without getting involved personally.
And personal involvement wasn’t something he cared for. He was a lifer, and in a nick like this he was a sitting target − they all were. You only had to look at this shit with Cain Moran and that fucking moron Banks. Everyone acting like it was none of their business when, if they were on the outside, everyone would be telling Cain to shoot the cunt and get it over with. But in here real life was suspended, and it was all pretend niceties. That was what was wrong with this whole fucking set-up. They were living a life of pretence, forced to share their space with people they would cross the road to avoid on the out.
In here you had to be accepting, had to make allowances for people, like the youngsters skagged out of their tiny minds because they couldn’t hack the boredom, and didn’t know how to cope with their sentences. They had never allowed for the fact they might get caught and end up with a lump and a half, spending the best years of their lives in a top security prison, watching their youth fading away while their friends on the outside married, fathered children and went off every day to mundane jobs and had holidays in the sun.
He made his way to Cain’s cell. He had to tell him the score. The man had been treated badly − he deserved a fucking break and, more to the point, a heads-up. This was far more involved than any of them had thought.
As Blokko walked through the unit, he looked around and sighed at the futility of a life wasted − and a life that was on hold for the foreseeable future.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Freddie Marks was pulling in favours left, right and centre, and finally they were getting somewhere. The DI on the case was a woman called Kate Desmond, and she was obviously in full sympathy mode with Jenny. It seemed that Caroline Moran’s knack of making enemies stretched to the police force as well. But it was Jenny he was worried about. She looked dreadful.
Molly and Eileen had been sent home in cabs; the last thing they needed now was Eileen sticking her oar in and causing more trouble. Freddie was happy to be left alone with her to help sort out her problems. He had rung a few mates and that had softened everything so far − there had been no charge as yet. It was up to Caroline now; if she pressed charges that was it. He hoped the few well-placed calls he’d made would dissuade her from that course of action.
What a fucking mess! Jenny had cried her make-up off, though somehow she still looked good; it occurred to him that he must really be on a love job. She was dangerous but he didn’t care − all caution had gone out of the window.
Kate Desmond was in a quandary. She had, in her station, Jenny Riley − soon to be Moran if the rumour factory was true. Jenny was known as a good ’un − the fact she had battered the fuck out of that big-mouthed Caroline Moran was a shock in itself. And now she was being championed by Freddie Marks. Kate sighed heavily. The last thing she needed was the aggro of this kind of situation. They never ended well − and there was the obvious grudge match as they both wanted the same man.
Why did women want these kinds of men? It had always amazed her. She had raided houses where young girls, with their whole lives ahead of them, already had two kids and a black eye from the local bullyboy. It was heartbreaking knowing the kind of existence these girls had unwittingly signed on for. Old before their time, visiting various nicks, as their good looks faded and their men looked elsewhere for excitement and youth. Kids whose earliest memories were their mattresses being split open with knives in case the loving father had hidden drugs or guns in them. Christ, she had once taken a ten-inch blade from under a cot mattress. If the toddler sleeping in there had got hold of it . . . There was certainly no accounting for taste, she knew that much. When she thought of the shouting and screaming that accompanied these raids, from girls no more than children with a misguided sense of loyalty, she could scream herself.
Then there were the Jennys of this world, decent women who had genuinely fallen for the wrong man, who had not actively sought out the local nutter. And where had it got the poor lass? It had got her under caution while everyone decided the best way to handle this particular scenario, that’s where. It had also got her into the clutches of Freddie Marks who, by all accounts, was fast turning into the new Cain Moran. Sometimes Kate hated her job. The only good thing was that everyone in the pub had said the same thing: Caroline Moran had thrown the first punch and caused all the aggro. Not that it made it any easier for Kate, of course. She didn’t want to arrest any of them.
She sighed as she excused herself and made her way to the hospital.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Caroline was in extreme pain, and she was also in extreme shock. Her sheer size usually guaranteed her the edge when it came to a fight, so to have that skinny little mare defeat her had really knocked her for six. It was a public humiliation, even though she knew it was her own fault. She had wanted to send that bitch to her wedding with two black eyes − that had been the reasoning behind her confrontation. Never in the wildest stretch of her imagination had she thought the girl would fight back at all, let alone so vehemently. It was still sinking in. She had been royally trounced, and the people who had witnessed it seemed to think she had got what she deserved.
She saw the nurse walk past her room and bellowed once more, ‘Oi! Bring me a
fucking mirror!’
She needed to see the damage. It hurt like fuck, she knew that much, and her nose was throbbing. That whore had actually broken it! She was a strong fucker, she could see that now. Jenny Riley had systematically battered her as if she had been waiting for years to do just that. Caroline knew in her heart that she had driven her to it, with all the obstacles she’d put in front of a divorce, determined to keep Jenny from getting the one thing of Cain’s she had left – his name. There was a tiny part of her that was ashamed of her behaviour, even though she couldn’t stop herself. It was like a mania with her − she’d never come to terms with the fact that Cain had left her for that council-house rat. God, she wished her mum was still alive. She missed her every day.
Just then her aunt Dolly came into the room with two teas and a small hand mirror. She did not look happy in the least. Caroline was well aware that she was on her last chance where Dolly was concerned; the woman was heartily sick of her and what she called her ‘antics’.
‘Well, she certainly made a mess of your boat race, Caroline.’ Caroline didn’t answer her, so her aunt went on in the same irritated voice, ‘You are not to press charges, Caroline, do you hear me?’
Caroline didn’t know what to say.
‘If you press charges, this becomes bigger than it ought to be. You had your shot at the girl and she’s kicked your arse. Let it go now, for fuck’s sake. Just let it go.’
It was the horrified scream that accompanied her peep into the small hand mirror that brought the nurses running back to her room.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Jenny Riley looked at her reflection in the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. The hotel was perfect. Close to the prison, it wasn’t the first time a Face’s bride-to-be had stayed the night. They knew the score and they didn’t intrude too much, though they had sent her up a bottle of champagne and some chocolates. She didn’t care that she was a prison bride, she just wanted to be a bride − Cain Moran’s bride. She had waited so long for this day and now it had finally arrived. She felt the buzz of excitement as she sipped at her glass of champagne to settle her nerves.
Her mum and Molly were still getting ready and Cain Junior was waiting patiently down in reception in his new suit, looking handsome and gorgeous just like his dad. These were her last few moments alone, and she raised her glass to her reflection and toasted Cain silently. She felt the sting of tears, but she fought them back. This was a day of happiness and nothing and no one was going to ruin it for her.
Closing her eyes, she thought of Caroline. Even after everything, she felt a wave of pity for the woman who she knew had been determined to destroy this day for her. In Caroline’s warped mind, it was going to be Jenny with a broken nose and two black eyes, not the other way around. Jenny couldn’t believe that she had actually broken the other woman’s nose! It was so far removed from her usual behaviour that it still shocked her to think of it. But Caroline had asked for it − kick a dog enough times, eventually it will turn and bite you. That was an old East End saying but a true one. She had seen red that night, as if someone had turned on a switch inside her and she had just gone absolutely demented.
She was lucky to get away relatively unscathed herself before the wedding. A lot of ice and arnica on her knuckles in the past forty-eight hours had concealed most of the damage to her hands, and a good manicure had done the rest.
Thankfully, Caroline had refused to press charges and with Freddie Marks’s help she had been well looked after. Freddie had proved himself to be a good friend, and she needed a friend these days. She could sense she and Bella were growing apart. They led different lives now, and the fact that Bella was too scared to come to her wedding spoke volumes.
Well, she wasn’t going to think about that. Now Jenny just wanted to enjoy her wedding day and spend the rest of her life in peace and tranquillity. It had been a long time coming. She took another look at herself, satisfied with what she saw. She only hoped that Cain liked what he saw too. But she was sure he would. After all, he loved her as much as she loved him − that was all there was to it really.
Chapter Ninety
Molly and Eileen didn’t always see eye to eye. Eileen in particular could be jealous of Jenny’s closeness to Cain’s mother. But today they had called a truce of sorts. Molly was dressed in a pale blue, well-cut suit that Jenny had chosen for her, and a small pillbox hat that looked sophisticated and cheeky at the same time. Eileen was in her green silk confection and the two women admired themselves as they stood side by side in the suite.
‘You look lovely, Eileen, that green really brings out your eyes.’
Eileen smiled. ‘I know. She can pick clothes, my Jenny. Fuck knows where she got that knack from − it certainly wasn’t me.’
They both laughed.
‘You look nice and all, Moll. That blue suits you a treat.’ Eileen poured them both more champagne, and they toasted the bride and groom together.
Eileen sighed. ‘I never thought my Jenny would be getting wed in Parkhurst.’ There was an unusual note of sadness in her voice and Molly laid a comforting hand gently on her arm.
‘Sure, she is a good girl and, whatever the circumstances, they love each other.’
Eileen nodded her agreement. ‘I always saw her having the whole nine yards, you know? Church, bridesmaids, the lot. I know she wanted Bella to be here but she couldn’t do it. Bella is scared of all this, bless her.’
Molly sipped her drink and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, careful not to crease her good suit. ‘Well, that’s as may be. But your Jenny has her head screwed on. I admire her so much. She has done a wonderful job with that lad, and she’s always known what she’s taking on. She’s no fool. They’d have done it years ago if Caroline hadn’t fought Cain at every turn. I swear that if I thought for one second Jenny was doing the wrong thing I would have said it to her. But, you know, I honestly believe they are meant to be together. I think the fact that they’ve let nothing drive them apart all these years just proves it. I have never known my son so enamoured of anyone for so long in my life. And I love Jenny like my own for the goodness in her, and the loyalty she has in abundance. You should be proud, you know, Eileen? You obviously did something right, lady.’
Eileen basked in the compliment, all the time thinking, You would think that, you old bat. It’s your son you’re interested in, not my girl who’s wasting most of her life waiting for a man who she can’t even hold in her arms. But she didn’t say any of that − she wasn’t a complete moron. Instead she raised her glass, and said sweetly, ‘To the bride and groom! God help them.’
Chapter Ninety-One
Cain was showered and primed, amazed at how excited he felt. It was due mainly to the fact he had had the nod to say he would get an hour alone with his wife rather than anything to do with the wedding itself. It was going to be worth the wait. His mind kept replaying Jenny naked and waiting for him. After all this time it would be a fucking thrill to feel himself inside her again. He was sweating just thinking about it. His Jenny, a room to themselves, and an hour that needed to keep them going for another fifteen years. It was a tall order but he felt up to the job. He closed his eyes and pictured his Jenny and groaned out loud.
Hearing the laughter of Blokko he guessed the man had sussed him out. He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. The man had given him an invaluable heads-up about what was really going on with young James Banks. Blokko was a real mate, and Cain would always be grateful for his help. He had not expected such loyalty and friendship from him and it was all the more appreciated because of that. Now he knew exactly what he was dealing with and how to put an end to it. Blokko had certainly taken a load off his back, there was no doubt about that.
Cain had a few axes to grind, and this was the perfect excuse to get sharpening his chopper and pay out some much-needed retribution. He had swallowed his knob for ten years, because he had needed to protect his family. But this revelation put a completely different complexion
on things. He needed to assert himself, let the people concerned know that he was back and not about to let them keep him down any more.
If the Irish were out of the game, and according to Blokko that was the case, then it was open season. And that cunt who had been holding him to ransom all these years would be the first the feel the effect of Cain flexing his muscle. He had taken over the use of a certain officer’s mobile phone and arranged his own little party for that particular ponce and his grassing sidekick. All in all, Cain Moran was feeling life was looking pretty good.
Chapter Ninety-Two
James Banks Junior was as excited as Cain Moran – although for a very different reason. He was going to make his move sooner rather than later. He’d been thinking about it for days. Cain Moran thought he was getting a pass until after his wedding. But he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be expecting that − no one would be expecting that.
James rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and started to burn some H − just a little buzz to keep him calm and collected. Stevie had introduced him to the healing benefits of heroin and he was finding it did help the time to pass. As he fished a yellow jelly diazepam out of his little leather kit bag to melt with the powder, he imagined what it would be like to plunge the knife between Cain Moran’s shoulderblades. He felt quite breathless at the thought. Nervous and excited at the same time. He would be set for life, and that’s what he wanted more than anything in the world: to be somebody, to achieve a proper status.
