by Martina Cole
It didn’t occur to him that if this came off, he would eventually be in the same position as Cain Moran. There would always be a youngster looking to off him so he could take on his mantle. That was much too forward thinking for young James Banks.
Chapter Ninety-Three
The pastor was a middle-aged Jamaican called Leon Sparks, and he was looking forward to marrying this couple today. He looked around the small chapel room and smiled happily; the place looked almost festive. He took in the expensive flowers and the ornate wedding cake that looked like it should be on the cover of Hello! magazine. It never ceased to amaze him what the cons were capable of in this place. Good luck to them too − he wasn’t a man who thought they should be locked up every second of every day. He liked to do the weddings, it made a change from preaching to a church full of men who were only there to do deals or relay messages. He wasn’t a fool − he knew the score.
Now, as his eyes swept the place to make sure nothing had been forgotten, he set about distributing the hymn books on the few chairs, and making sure that the music was in place in his little ghetto blaster. He was still smiling as he went through to reception to meet the blushing bride. He liked Jenny Riley, soon-to-be Moran. She was a decent, steady woman who loved her husband-to-be with a passion that was painful to watch at times. But you played the hand God dealt you − that was all anyone could do.
Chapter Ninety-Four
The POs were still nervous about the situation regarding James Banks and Cain Moran. That something would happen was inevitable. They were each just hoping that it wouldn’t be on their shifts − the paperwork would be fucking outrageous. Statements to be taken, local Filth swarming all over the place, treating them like they were no more than glorified fucking mall cops. It would be a nightmare.
The wedding had lifted the mood. There was good-natured slagging off going on at breakfast where the men had been drinking champagne and orange juice and Cain Moran had even made scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. The atmosphere had been good, everyone toasting the groom and making lewd jokes about his wedding afternoon; it was common knowledge he was getting the opportunity to be alone with her. The men were jealous and impressed by that in equal measure. One thing was certain, it would not have come cheap. Everyone had seen photos of her too, so there were definitely going to be a few marathon wanking sessions tonight. She was a good-looking piece, and so loyal too, never the hint of a scandal surrounding her.
Nevertheless, Jock McFarland couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding. He had spent a lot of time on this wing, and he knew when there was something about to erupt. He could feel an undercurrent of malice, hidden under the coating of camaraderie and jokes. There was something just a little bit off − nothing he could put his finger on, but it was there all the same. Until something happened, though, he could only advise his men to keep alert for the first signs of aggravation, and then to steam in as fast as possible. It would be over in seconds, but the reverberations it would cause could be felt for years.
Until that James Banks had wangled his way on to this wing, it had been a good place to work. They were hard men, admittedly, but sensible, wanting to do their time with as much comfort and ease as possible. Now the place had an air of tension underlying everything. Jock wanted it over with the minimum of fuss.
That aside, he still had a tenner on Cain Moran. After all, if it was going to happen, the least he could do was make a few quid off it. That was only human nature.
Chapter Ninety-Five
The car was a white Rolls-Royce and, as Jenny and her family piled into it, she couldn’t help smiling as the other hotel guests waved her off in a friendly fashion. She wondered how many guessed she was going to a prison to make her vows. But she didn’t care what they thought − all she wanted was to marry the man she had loved since she was sixteen years old.
She shivered as she thought of the hour together he had promised to bag them. She knew it would have cost in excess of twenty grand, but that was a small price to pay for the opportunity to feel his arms around her, feel him inside her once more. She had hardly slept for thinking about him and what they were missing. She tried not to let herself dwell too much on the physical side of their relationship, but it had been very important to them both and if she allowed herself to think of them together, making love, it killed her. God, how she missed him, the smell of him, the taste of him. She pushed the thoughts from her mind − this was neither the time nor the place.
She smiled at her son who was chatting away to his nanas, full of excitement at the day ahead. He was the best man and kept taking the rings out of his pocket to check he hadn’t lost them.
Molly and Eileen looked great and she smiled at them, her stomach fluttering once more at the thought of soon feeling the man she loved holding her. She fought to blink the tears behind her eyes away.
Cain Junior looked at her, and said seriously, ‘I feel like crying too, Mum. It’s not every day your parents get married!’
Eileen and Molly laughed but they too had a catch in their throats. The lad looked so very happy, and he was obviously looking forward to the day. It was a bittersweet moment, and even hard-faced Eileen found she had a tear in her eye.
Chapter Ninety-Six
Peter Parkes had grown up a lot in the last ten years and he relished his status as a man of the world. Peter made his presence felt on every level. He was aware that his workforce didn’t exactly like him, but he was at least respected as a fair, if somewhat hard, boss. If he had learned anything from Cain Moran it was that to stay at the top you always had to be one step ahead, not just of your competitors, but of any wannabe that might work close to you.
His part in Cain’s downfall and the death of Johnny Mac didn’t bother him in the least. He had never liked Johnny and the feeling had been mutual; he suspected that Johnny had never entirely trusted him − well, he had been right about that. He would have preferred Cain Moran dead too, and that was what he was working towards now. Cain Moran’s reputation was ever more stellar inside than it had been on the out. That he had been badly treated was a common topic of conversation, and Peter knew that went a long way with the older men in the business.
Since the Irish had bailed, he had been given a much clearer idea of what Lenny wanted the organisation to be involved in. Drugs were the main earner, but that was par for the course these days. They still controlled the movement of all shipments and decided the prices. If working for Cain Moran had taught him anything, it was to always make sure everyone got a decent earn − that way, you cut down on people brokering side deals for themselves. Anyone caught doing that was punishable by death. That was the final word on the subject.
The only fly in his ointment was Lenny McAvoy. He was still living in the 1960s and that annoyed Peter. Lenny was a good bloke in many respects but he had passed his sell-by date a long time ago. The fact was, Peter didn’t need him any more. Once Cain Moran was out of the picture for good – and that was providing that silly little cunt James Banks achieved his objective − Peter was going to out Lenny as well. He would disappear and that would be the end of it.
Peter Parkes’s wife Lola was a tall, leggy redhead, with killer tits and a serious coke habit. As he walked into his house he could hear her shouting at their twin sons like a banshee. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and went through to the large state-of-the-art kitchen. His sons were only eighteen months old, and she expected them to act like adults; it was fucking laughable. He saw the mirrored tile on the breakfast bar, with lines already cut, and a rolled-up twenty-pound note beside the residue.
‘Keep the fucking noise down, you silly bitch!’ His two boys toddled towards him, glad to see their father. ‘Where’s the fucking au pair? What am I paying her for?’
Lola laughed nastily. ‘The au pair has fucking been sacked, for fucking the boss as usual. Honestly, you can’t keep it in your fucking trousers, can you?’
He closed his eyes in distress. He really had to stop shagging those yo
ung Swedish girls; it always ended badly for everyone concerned.
‘The next one to come here is going to be short, fat and hairy. Even you wouldn’t sink that fucking low.’
Peter didn’t answer her; he really couldn’t argue with that.
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Caroline was drunk − drunker than she had been in years. Her face was still a mass of bruising and pain, so the alcohol and the painkillers were making her even worse than usual. Michael tried to help her, but it was a pointless exercise.
‘She will get her fucking just deserts, you mark my words.’
‘Mum, it’s early afternoon and you can barely string a sentence together. Why don’t you go and lie down? Or at least eat something.’ He never thought he would be asking her to eat, so it proved how far gone she was. Normally he was begging her to stop; he was convinced she would have a heart attack if she didn’t sort herself out.
She was mumbling now, going on about how much she hated his dad, how he had dumped them for his new whore. It was a story he had heard since he could remember. It was funny, but he didn’t really feel any animosity towards Jenny Riley. She was just as caught in the crossfire as he was, and he had made it his business to look up his brother a few times. There was no doubt they had the same father and he seemed like a good kid.
It was his father he blamed for everything, because his leaving had turned Caroline into a shadow of her former self. She had been funny once, full of fun and laughter, but those times were few and far between. If only she could move on but, as Aunt Dolly had pointed out to him on many occasions over the years, she didn’t want to get over it. She revelled in her sorry state and her life dictated that she could never experience happiness like normal people. She just moped around, and the only time she was even remotely normal was in the diner. There she generated a bit of her old sparkle, and laughed and joked with the customers, making sure the food was top notch and the atmosphere was good. It was the only success in her life and it clearly meant the world to her. But for his sake he wished she would just let the anger go. He wanted a mother, not a drunken bitch whose life was a constant stream of invective.
Michael remembered how it had been when his dad came home to them and not to Jenny Riley. He had been a happy kid then and lived for his father’s attention, but he realised now that it wasn’t enough. Cain should have been kicking a ball with him, coming to his school, but the fact was he never had done any of those things. He was always working, keeping nightclub hours most of the week, and he was rarely about except for on Sunday mornings after a heavy Saturday night. Michael remembered those long breakfasts, though, when his mum would push the boat out and they would have American pancakes with maple syrup, and bacon and eggs. That was another lifetime.
Still it was a nice place to visit in his head sometimes; he liked to remember the good times with his dad. There had been some − whatever his mum might think. But that was long ago and now the man was banged up. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Well, his dad was finally getting his new family today, all signed, sealed and delivered. He hoped the new Morans fared better than the last lot. Because his dad had a fucking lot to answer for.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
‘Nice suit that, Cain. Handmade?’
Cain nodded. It was a long time since he had worn anything other than casual clothes or gym sweats. The suit was a reminder of everything that he had lost, of a life gone from him, and that was putting a shadow over his day. If he wasn’t careful he would become depressed. It happened to a lot of the younger men especially − depression and anxiety were reasons why drug and alcohol abuse was so rife. It was hard to keep upbeat and cheerful all the time. Someone once said that prison and doing time was a state of mind and they were right. It was about keeping in the moment, living day to day, and not dwelling too much on the past or the future. But Cain couldn’t help mourning what he once had. He felt almost tearful.
‘The last time I wore this suit was for a business dinner. Jenny was wearing a cream dress which showed off her cleavage to advantage. It was a good night.’ He could hear the regret in his own voice.
Blokko laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t dwell on it, mate. Listen, you got her today, by your side. She is one of the good ones. Don’t fuck it up by wishful thinking.’
Cain laughed. ‘You’re right, mate. Besides, I’m feeling on top of the world. I’ve sorted out something that’s been on my mind for years, and it’s my wedding day.’
Blokko left him then, and Cain resumed his preparations for his wedding. He couldn’t wait to see Jenny, and his boy, of course. He wondered how Michael was − he had written to the lad a few times but never heard back from him. Natural, he supposed, that he would take his mum’s side.
Cain Junior had always written to him at least once a week, rambling letters about his life. He knew Jenny probably made it fun, sat with him and discussed what he would tell his dad. She was good like that − she could make anything seem like an adventure, even something as boring as writing a letter.
He was getting choked up again, and he had to fight back the tears. What was wrong with him today? He had to sort himself out − the last thing he needed was to break down. His credibility would never be the same again. He could just imagine the ribbing he would have to take from the others, but he couldn’t help it. He felt very emotional today.
Last night at the stag party, he had cooked as usual and the men had all brought drink to the table. They had discussed marriage, women, sex, the usual male ribald topics. But it had set him thinking about the future, and how long it would be before he could enjoy a real married life with his wife. Another fifteen years at least before he could even hope to get out. Suddenly it seemed so fucking far away, even though he was already nearly ten into his sentence. The knowledge that he would have to wait so long to be beside his wife hit him hard. He wondered once again if it had really been worth it.
Taking a deep breath, he settled himself to the tasks in hand. Regrets were for fools − what was important now was getting through the days, and that was what he had to focus on. Today would be a good day, he knew that much.
He heard someone come in his cell and, as he turned towards the noise, he saw the flash of metal, and realised instantly that young James had decided to take matters into his hands a little earlier than expected. The fucking idiot! If he had only waited as promised.
Bringing up his arms, Cain Moran knew he was in a fight for his life.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Peter Parkes was sitting at his breakfast bar, drinking a cold beer, scanning the headlines of the Sun, when two men walked through his patio doors and shot him dead.
Lola heard the shots from the pool house as she watched her sons paddling in the baby pool Peter had installed a few weeks before. She instantly recognised the sound of the gunshots and knew they must mean bad news.
Scooping up her sons to go and investigate, Lola felt sure of what she was going to find. Having just sacked the au pair, she was irritated to think she would have to deal with everything herself. Really, some people were so fucking selfish. She popped the boys in their playpen and cleared away her drug paraphernalia before she finally called the police. One look at her husband had been enough to tell her it was too late for an ambulance.
Chapter One Hundred
Lenny McAvoy was in his office in Liverpool when the telephone rang. He picked it up and listened for a few moments before throwing the receiver across the room in fury.
‘Fuck!’ he bellowed. This news was not good.
He headed out, motioning to the two heavies standing guard to follow him.
‘Come on, lads, we’re going to London.’
As they got in the car and the driver turned the key, there was an ominous click.
Lenny desperately lunged for the door. But it was too late.
Chapter One Hundred and One
‘I beg your pardon?’ Eileen’s voice was rising an octave a word as she tried
to comprehend what the PO was saying to her.
Molly and Cain Junior were equally disbelieving and Jenny was white with shock as she demanded, ‘Where is he? Is he OK?’
Jock McFarland was a soft touch where a pretty woman was concerned; he liked Jenny Riley and really didn’t relish being the bearer of bad news. ‘He’s alive, Jenny, but badly cut up. It was a clear case of self-defence but, as the other man is dead, we’ll have to hold an inquiry. It’s such bad luck this had to happen today of all days.’
Jenny dropped into a chair and, putting her head in her hands, wept bitter tears. She couldn’t believe it. Everything she had put up with over the years had been made bearable by the thought of this day. Now it was ruined. Once again, the consequences of Cain’s lifestyle had destroyed something precious to her and, for the first time ever, she felt a huge wave of resentment towards him. She had never asked for much – this was all she had ever wanted for herself.
Now her dreams were shattered, and she was left like fucking Cinderella – all dressed up with no fucking ball to go to.
Molly Moran was beside herself with fear, and she wondered why Jenny didn’t appear more worried after learning of his injuries. ‘Can we see him? Can his wife at least see him?’
Jenny stood abruptly and said quietly, ‘I’m not his wife, though, am I? You can see him if you like, Molly. Personally, I’m going home. I can’t deal with this at the moment. If they let you in, tell him I said he can get fucked.’
With that, Jenny pulled her son towards the door, her mother following on behind in stunned silence. Eileen had not expected her Jenny to react like that.
Molly called after them, ‘You heard the man, Jenny. It wasn’t his fault!’
