The Good Life

by Martina Cole

  Jenny didn’t even slow down as she said seriously, ‘No, it never fucking is his fault, is it?’

  Jock McFarland didn’t know how to react, so he did just what his mother always did in an awkward situation and asked Molly Moran with forced cheer, ‘Can I get you a cup of tea, darlin’?’

  Chapter One Hundred and Two

  Cain Moran was being stitched up in the infirmary; the cuts were deep and painful, but not enough to get him to the local hospital. He was fuming with James Banks Junior. The silly little fucker had ruined everything for Jenny, Cain Junior and his mother. Enraged, Cain had used all the considerable force he possessed when he plunged his blade into Banks’s neck. If the stupid little cunt had waited a few days it would have been sorted. Once he had known Parkes was out of the picture, leaving him with no backup, he would have definitely folded. He wasn’t a foolish kid; he would have understood he had no chance without support.

  Now Banks was dead, and Cain’s wedding day was completely fucked. His fury was such that he didn’t even need an anaesthetic while he had the stitches. Instead, the pain felt good, real, and it took his mind off his troubles momentarily. Poor Jenny – she would be devastated, bless her heart. He loved that woman so much, and he had planned on showing her just how much in the room he had arranged for them; he could have held her and loved her once more for a precious hour. Now, thanks to that prize prat, it had all gone to shit.

  If the little fucker was still alive, Cain would kill him all over again.

  Chapter One Hundred and Three

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

  Jenny sighed heavily. ‘Yes, Mum, I’m sure. It’s happened and I can’t do anything about it, can I? He killed someone on the morning of our wedding. If it weren’t so fucking tragic it would be laughable.’

  Eileen was trying her best to ease her daughter’s broken heart. ‘It wasn’t his fault though – you heard that PO. Be fair, darling . . .’

  Jenny drank her vodka and Coke in one long gulp and reached to refill her glass. ‘Oh, Mum, you just don’t fucking get it, do you? None of you do. It’s not just the wedding, it’s everything. I love him – God fucking help me – but I’m still young. I needed today; I needed to feel good, like any other woman on her wedding day. I was so looking forward to it, but it’s like everything else with him – nothing is ever just fucking normal.’

  Eileen was genuinely stumped at what to say. Usually, even hinting that Cain Moran might not be the god her daughter thought he was meant the outbreak of World War Three. Now here she was defending him. She was well aware of how disappointed her daughter was, how much store she had set on this day. But Cain was banged up – he wasn’t a fucking angel and that was a reality her Jenny had to face.

  ‘Do you know, Mum, last night I lay in that hotel room in that big fucking bed and I cried for us. For what we’ve missed. Oh, I’ve accepted that if I want him, I can’t have him for years still – not properly anyway. I’ve been so good about it, Mum, because I love him with every fibre of my being. But today I was reminded of just how fucking shit my life really is and it hit me like a kick in the teeth.’ Jenny swallowed down her vodka again. ‘And then to think of that Caroline gloating! She will fucking love this. She couldn’t have planned it better, the fat bitch.’

  Eileen was struggling to know what to say – she didn’t recognise this Jenny. The Jenny she knew was usually so positive about everything, always trying to find the bright side no matter how hard it seemed. For once Eileen could tell that her daughter was actually seeing her life as it was – and she didn’t like it one bit. She tried to console her once again.

  ‘It was self-defence, darling – even the PO said that.’

  Jenny wiped her eyes with a crumpled tissue and wailed forlornly, ‘Only he would kill someone on my wedding day! The fucking idiot! It’s always about him and what he wants and what he needs. I despair, I really do! Well, I’m done. He can do what he likes now. I’ve had enough. It will be in all the papers tomorrow and our son will have to live through another fucking scandal. Everyone will know my day was destroyed and that Cain Moran has killed again. I suppose they will drag up the trial again too . . .’

  As the tears started to flow, Eileen tried awkwardly to comfort her daughter. ‘Stay here with me for a few days, darling, till it calms down a bit, eh?’

  Just as Jenny was knocking back another vodka, the phone rang. Eileen answered and then held the receiver out to her daughter. ‘It’s for you, darling.’

  Jenny took the phone from her mother and her heart leapt in her chest. She hoped it would be Cain. The POs were good at Parkhurst – they sometimes let the men call on birthdays and anniversaries – or perhaps that PO Jock had let Cain use his mobile.

  ‘Hello?’

  But it was Freddie Marks. As he asked her how she was, Jenny knew she was on the verge of crumpling again. Taking a deep breath, she said with forced brightness, ‘Why don’t you pick me up and we can go for a few drinks?’

  Eileen was aghast at her daughter’s behaviour, though she welcomed it all the same. Lord knew this lass of hers needed a bit of fun in her life – especially after the stunt that bastard Cain had pulled today.

  Chapter One Hundred and Four

  Hasan and Ali Osman were brothers born in South London to parents from Istanbul. Hasan, the elder, in particular was a man of intelligence and tact. Ali was more unpredictable but still they both had their creds and ran the prostitution ring in the South East. Peter Parkes had been a thorn in their side for a while now so they were very happy that he was finally out of their hair. More than that, they had taken over all the businesses and had a very powerful sleeping partner in Cain Moran. All in all, it had been a productive day.

  They were sitting in a Turkish restaurant in South London drinking raki and toasting their good luck. Hasan was particularly pleased to think of Parkes being taken out in his own home. There was a finality about dying that appealed to Hasan’s sense of fairness. Parkes had always been known to settle scores in front of the offender’s loved ones. It created added torture for everyone involved: a young son seeing his father beg for leniency or witnessing his mother in a chokehold. Parkes had just been a bullyboy who had only gone as far as he had because he had turned on Cain Moran – the man who had mentored him – when he’d been given the chance. He wasn’t the sort of Face they wanted to do business with, and it was very satisfying that he had finally been given a taste of his own medicine.

  Hasan had a hidden agenda too, and that was Lola Parkes, who he had liked for a long time. He would let her play the grieving widow for a while, then he would be straight round to the house to offer his condolences and, if he played his cards right, a quick blast on his banjo. She had great legs, did Lola, and he wouldn’t mind having her in his bed till the next bird came along.

  There was a new era coming for the Smoke, and the Osman brothers would be at the forefront, thanks to Cain Moran and his decision to step up and act like a fucking man at last.

  The brothers were two men after the same things: power, money and pussy. And they would make sure they each got all three in abundance.

  Chapter One Hundred and Five

  Caroline Moran had been in a state of high excitement since the story of Cain killing James Banks Junior had hit the news. It felt as though God was finally answering her prayers. What she wouldn’t have given to see that bitch’s face when she’d realised the wedding was off because the groom-to-be would rather commit a murder than marry her. It was the best news she’d heard in years, and she was going to celebrate it.

  She pictured Cain in his cell, stitched up and bereft, and she laughed with glee. Her own wounds were forgotten in her elation. According to the news he had been defending himself from an attack, so it wasn’t as if he’d planned the incident. But just knowing the wedding was off was enough to lift Caroline’s spirits. She had felt physically ill that morning at the thought of Cain marrying that vicious little mare and had actually prayed for
something to happen. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that something might go this wrong for them. That Jenny Riley had lived a charmed life, but the boot was well and truly on the other fucking foot now! She was almost beside herself. To think that Jenny had arrived at the prison to be told her husband-to-be had killed again. It was almost too perfect.

  Caroline poured herself another drink and savoured the taste of the champagne as it bubbled down her gullet. She was drinking a bottle of Cristal; this was an event that needed to be savoured and enjoyed to the full.

  She raised her glass in a silent toast. To Jenny Riley. For Jenny Riley she still was and would be for the foreseeable future. Still not married to the man who had broken his real wife’s heart and walked away from his first-born son. Well, at least Caroline had made sure there would be no more kids from her. If she had achieved anything, she had at least achieved that.

  She ordered two takeaways – one Chinese and the other Indian. She was going to have her own wedding feast. That piece of dirt had taken everything she held dear, and no one could blame her for enjoying this night. She turned up the news and waited for the next bulletin about the Parkhurst prison stabbing. She couldn’t get enough of it, and could only imagine Jenny Riley’s humiliation. It felt so good.

  The Good Life – that had always been Cain’s mantra. Money and more money was all he was ever interested in. He had promised the Good Life to Caroline on their wedding night and she had believed him. She wondered if he had also promised it to his little paramour. Well, that was an irony best savoured by the ex-wife.

  She felt so good that she actually experienced the desire for sex for the first time in years. She could not believe that Jenny Riley had been thwarted. For once that girl had not got what she wanted. It was such a wonderful feeling, and proved to Caroline Moran that sometimes all you had to do was bide your time. It seemed that God really did pay back debts without money.

  She had loved Cain Moran through thick and thin, swallowing his birds, him staying out all night and his fucking complete disregard for family life. She had sat it out, believing that one day he would realise what he had and finally appreciate it, but it had never happened. She understood now that the only thing she had ever been to him was a trophy wife – she was the runner up. It was Jenny Riley he had truly fallen in love with.

  She could never forgive Jenny Riley for taking her Cain away. But now it had come full circle and she felt no small glimmer of satisfaction in knowing that just once, that skinny bitch wasn’t getting everything her own way.

  Chapter One Hundred and Six

  Freddie Marks couldn’t believe his luck. Jenny Riley was lying beside him, naked as the day she was born, snoring softly. They had just had the most mind-blowing sex and he was still reeling. She had almost eaten him alive, in more ways than one! She had been drunk, but not so much that she didn’t know what she was doing. He had never experienced anything like it before, and hoped he would be experiencing it again soon. No wonder Cain Moran had left his old woman for her! She was that rarity: a woman who was built for sex and loved every second of it.

  He closed his eyes, letting his mind fill with all manner of images of the past hours, and he started to grow hard again. Never had he felt like that before – she had literally blown him away. She was sleeping now, her lovely face serene and her body relaxed. No one would think that there was such a wildcat beneath that ladylike exterior.

  He had fallen in love, big time, with a woman who was not his to fall in love with. She belonged to Cain Moran, and he would not take kindly to his woman being rogered as often as physically possible by the likes of him. Yet, even knowing that, he couldn’t stop now. She was like a drug. He couldn’t get enough of her, and was hoping their night together would put this relationship on a more permanent basis.

  He pulled Jenny gently into his arms and, as she settled herself against his body, he kissed her hair, breathing in the scent of jasmine and Chanel. Christ, she was gorgeous, and she came like a fucking train. He didn’t care how dangerous this relationship might be. He wanted her – it was as simple as that.

  Chapter One Hundred and Seven

  Cain Moran was lying on his bed, listening to the sounds of the prison around him. Through the thin walls of his cell he could hear someone coughing, a radio on low, the hum of chatter from the cons and POs. Prison was a noisy place, and at times like this a man really felt that he was indeed buried alive amongst it all.

  The day had started out so fucking well but now he was stitched up and in pain, both physical and mental, with a hard on like a baseball bat. He knew he had done the unthinkable – he had assumed that everything would go right. In this environment that was fool’s logic – today had proved that anything could go wrong at any time. And Cain had murdered a silly lad who should have used his fucking noggin.

  As he shut his eyes, he could see Jenny, with her thick, lustrous hair and her white skin. How many times had they lain together? It had always been fantastic. Today should have been the day he made love to her after nearly ten fucking years, but he had lost that chance the moment he plunged his blade into Banks’s neck. He had rung her mum five times and on each occasion Eileen had told him Jenny didn’t want to speak to him. Now he was angry with her too, even though he knew he had no right to be, but he just wanted to explain the circumstances of the day’s events.

  He didn’t think he would be able to cope with his sentence if he lost Jenny. She was his reason for living – nothing made sense without her. The dread of her leaving him was overwhelming and the worst of it was he couldn’t blame her if she did. She was still a young woman with needs and wants, and he knew it was asking a lot for him to expect her to remain faithful. But, so far, she had. Jenny was without guile and she didn’t play games – what you saw was what you got. That was one of the reasons he’d fallen so completely in love with her. She was innately honest, and though they were polar opposites in so many respects it had worked for them because she didn’t question him or his life. She totally accepted him and who he was.

  But what would Jenny do after this fiasco? She had set such store on the wedding, and had written to him nearly every night telling him of her hopes and her dreams for their future together. The words had been like a balm for his tortured soul. The love she poured into each letter was what kept him going from day to day, while the nights were filled with memories of her face, and her body, when he would relive every inch of her in his mind. She remained his only weakness.

  The fear of losing her was putting him on edge, and he wanted to pound someone or something. The pain in his arms was nothing compared with the pain in his heart, which actually felt like it was breaking. All he could think about was her with another man. The idea of her letting someone else into her body, into her life, whispering words of love and opening her legs to welcome them in was torture.

  Well, he would see her fucking dead first. She would never be allowed to do that to him. It would be the ultimate humiliation. He would fucking rip her head off with his bare hands.

  As the anger overtook him, Cain could no longer contain his frustration. The walls of his cell felt like they were closing in, and the knowledge of everything he had lost consumed him. He wanted to destroy something just as Banks had destroyed everything he’d hoped for today.

  He finally demolished what was left of his cell at 4.15 a.m. It took three POs and two male nurses to subdue and sedate him. He was down on the block by 6 a.m.

  Chapter One Hundred and Eight

  Eileen was making lunch the next day when Jenny finally strolled in.

  ‘Well, fuck me, girl, you have certainly nailed the just-rogered look!’

  Jenny attempted a smile but she felt awful. The effects of the drink and the knowledge that she had slept with Freddie Marks were starting to take their toll.

  ‘Oh, Mum. What have I done?’ She burst into tears.

  Eileen put her arm around her girl, and held her close. ‘I’ll tell you what you’ve done. You w
ent out with a nice bloke and you got your leg over. It’s hardly a hanging offence in this day and age. You were hurting, you’d had the worst day possible and you needed to escape your life for a while.’

  ‘But, Mum . . . Poor Cain. I was so fucking angry and disappointed with him yesterday. Now I’ve gone and slept with someone else!’

  ‘Did you enjoy it?’

  Jenny nodded, feeling a flush of shame.

  ‘Listen, girl, you ain’t the first and you certainly won’t be the last. Personally, I think it will have done you the world of good. A bit of passion never hurt anyone and he is a nice-looking lad. I would, and I’m nearly old enough to be his big sister!’

  Jenny had to laugh then. Eileen could be funny at times and maybe she was right on this occasion. She had enjoyed it, and she wanted to do it again. So why did it feel like a betrayal? Freddie Marks had been so lovely, telling her all the things she needed to hear, holding her tightly and making her feel safe. She turned to go upstairs to her bedroom, but Eileen stopped her.

  ‘By the way, Jen, you’ll never guess who was shot to death yesterday in his own home.’

  Jenny looked at her mother and shrugged. ‘Who?’

  ‘Peter Parkes! And I know I’m no fucking mastermind but it seems funny, all of this happening on the same day. It looks like your Cain is back to his old self in more ways than one, eh?’

  Jenny couldn’t quite comprehend what her mother was telling her. Peter Parkes was dead? Shot down in his own home? There was no way the timing was a coincidence; she knew that much was true.

  ‘It was all over the late evening news – knocked your Cain from the top story, darling. Guns always top knives when it comes to the order of these things. So there are obviously a few things you don’t know about this, darlin’.’