by Jacqui Rose
After pulling up a few streets away from their house because of the surrounding roads being blocked off due to the police and fire engines, Franny rested her head on the steering wheel. Her body was tired, her mind even more so, but she had to keep going for Mia … But where was she? Who the hell could’ve written that letter and left it on the dashboard? She wanted to run to the police, get help, but after what the note had said about not going to the police, she was too scared to risk it. She had no idea where to start looking, and the truth was, she was terrified.
‘Fran? Fran?’
‘Sorry, Alf, what did you say?’
‘Vaughn. What do you think he was on about?’
Franny took a deep breath, pushing down her emotions once again as she came up with something to say. ‘The thing is … The thing is … Vaughn was ripping us off.’
Alfie looked shocked. ‘What? No way! Not Vaughn. You must’ve got it wrong.’
‘He was, I … I wanted to tell you before, but I didn’t have all the evidence. That’s why I’ve been a bit secretive of late. Anyway, I found out and I confronted him, and of course he didn’t like it.’
‘But why would he want to meet me in the club, then?’
Franny shrugged. ‘Once he knew I was going to say something, I suppose he thought he’d get to you first. Get you to believe him rather than me. After all I did take your money before, so he probably thought it’d be easy to turn you against me.’
‘I just don’t get why though – we’re all partners.’
Rubbing her temples from the pounding headache that was beginning to start, Franny said, ‘He thinks I owe him for the money I took from you both last year, and as you didn’t force me to pay him back, I guess he saw that as some kind of betrayal from you, and he decided to take matters into his own hands.’
‘By ripping us off?’
In full flow and starting to believe her own lies, Franny nodded. ‘Yeah, but he didn’t see it like that; he saw it as taking back what was his.’
Clearly not wanting to accept what Franny was saying, Alfie lit a cigarette. ‘Vaughn may be a lot of things, but to go behind my back like that, well it’s not like him. Are you sure you haven’t got this wrong, Fran?’
Franny looked at Alfie evenly. ‘I wish I had, but I think Vaughn’s been laying the groundwork for a long time.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘All those digs at me, trying to make out like I was up to something. Basically, trying to get you to turn against me.’
Alfie stared at Franny. It was true that Vaughn had kept trying to lay the seed of doubt about Franny, and it was true that the books weren’t balancing, but Vaughn, rip him off? It was so hard to believe, but then, when Franny had taken the two million pounds from them last year, albeit for good reason, that had been hard to believe as well. He supposed, when it came down to it, none of them were in this business because of their sainthoods. ‘So, why were you in the club?’
Not wanting to answer any more questions, Franny snapped, ‘Look, Alf, do we have to do this? The fact is I came to the club and we had a row. I found him taking the money out of the safe … as well as his passport. He’s gone, Alf.’
‘Gone? Where?’
‘I dunno, but I guess he realised that once I told you what he was up to, then things would get very difficult for him. I’m sorry, Alf, I know it’s hard to hear this. I was upset myself. After all, I thought we were all friends. I guess I was wrong.’
Franny smiled at Alfie, though her eyes were dark. When he was about to answer her, Alfie’s phone rang again. He answered it, still processing what Franny had said. ‘Yeah … shit … are you sure? … Okay, thanks.’
After a minute he put the phone down and looked at Franny, her whole face and body still covered in thick mud.
‘That was my pal. He’s heard some rumours. Apparently, even though it’s still early doors, the word is the fire brigade reckons the fire at the club wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate and by all accounts the fire was so hot it’ll take a long time before they can determine the cause. They’re still trying to put it out now.’
Keeping her gaze straight, Franny nodded again, showing no emotion. No pangs of guilt.
‘And I know exactly who it was … There’s no doubt about it. Charlie Eton started that fire. Question is, what are you going to do about it? But whatever you do, Alf, I think you should make it permanent.’
20
After cleaning herself up, Franny, unable to stand being cooped up in the house with Alfie asking more questions about Vaughn and her head swimming with thoughts of Mia, stood in the street, leaning on the railings as the rain continued to pour.
She couldn’t really feel the chill of the air, nor the fact her clothes were soaked through to her skin – all she could do was stare, trance-like, at the passing cars and people, unaware of the noise of Soho, unaware of anything but the thought of Mia … Bree … and of course, Vaughn.
The pain in her chest was real. The panic she was fighting clamped down on her, threatening to overwhelm her. Crushing her.
‘What have you done?’ She spoke out loud to herself as she walked towards St Patrick’s Church on the other side of Soho Square. It was a place that held so many memories for her, a place that, although she wasn’t religious, she was drawn to.
In the foyer of the church, Franny did as she always did and lit a candle for her mother, the mother she had never known but had heard so much about. She lit another one for Mia, her hands shaking, then smiled as she lit one more, this time for her father, whom she missed so much.
She watched the flickering flames, mesmerised, wondering what advice her father would give her if he were still around. Undoubtedly, he’d tell her what happened was all their fault. Bree and Vaughn’s. And she shouldn’t feel guilty about what had happened, because they’d brought it all on themselves. He’d also tell her whatever she did, she shouldn’t panic. Keep calm, keep very calm. Don’t let anything slip. And have no regrets. Absolutely none – what’s done cannot be undone. But mainly, he would tell her she shouldn’t feel anything towards them: no sadness, no guilt, no nothing; and whatever she did, she had to keep one step ahead.
Sighing, she frowned and walked into the church itself, suddenly aware of how cold she was. She shivered, the gloom of the day made worse by the heavy stone of the building. Her footsteps echoed as she walked on the highly polished marble floor, under the large Corinthian column and past the two large statues of angels. She took a seat on one of the wooden pews.
She stared up at the gold dome at the front of the church. None of it was supposed to turn out like it did. None of it was supposed to hurt anyone. All she had done was try to help, hadn’t she? If Bree had listened, if Vaughn hadn’t wanted to bring her down, none of this would’ve happened, and she hated them for it. Hated them for putting her in this position. It was also because of them Mia was missing.
The pain came back in her chest as she started to shake. She still didn’t have the first clue what she was supposed to do, where she was supposed to turn. Maybe it’d turn out that she had to go to the police after all. But apart from the letter warning her specifically not to go to them, the problem was the police would have questions about Mia. Questions that she didn’t have the answers to, or rather answers she wouldn’t want to tell them.
She’d never felt so helpless in her life. Never. Hopefully, whoever wrote the letter would be in touch. But it was the waiting that was the problem. Waiting on hope, not certainty. The waiting part was killing her.
‘Franny? Franny?’
Turning around, Franny frowned as she saw it was the girl from the club. Wet and dishevelled and with half her front teeth missing. She scowled at her, irritated that the girl knew her name. Vaughn must’ve told her.
Angrily, she growled, ‘Whatever it is, I’m not in the mood. Now I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. I came in here to get a bit of peace.’
Dressed in only a tiny denim mini skirt and
a long-sleeve thin red cotton top, and with holes in her satin dolly shoes, Shannon shivered as the rain dripped down her neck. She smirked. ‘Not sure if praying will help. Maybe talking would.’
With simmering anger, Franny stood up from the pew, moving towards Shannon. ‘Not with you it wouldn’t. Now please, go away, and if you think you’re getting any money from me, think again. Go and beg elsewhere.’
Clearly not in the least concerned by what Franny had to say, Shannon stared at her, full of hostility. ‘Vaughn was right about you, you’re a nasty cow.’
‘You know nothing about Vaughn and you know even less about me.’
Not to be put off, Shannon chewed on her gum as she spoke. ‘I know he’s my friend.’
Pushing her long chestnut hair out of her face, Franny laughed. She couldn’t believe that she was even engaging in conversation with this girl. ‘Let me tell you something, Vaughn would never be your friend, so wherever you got that idea from, think again. Like I say, you don’t know anything.’
Red-faced and trying not to let what Franny said hurt her, Shannon yelled, her voice echoing around the large, empty church. ‘It’s you who doesn’t know anything … you don’t even know where the baby is.’ And without another word, Shannon turned away, stomping off down the aisle.
In the greyness of the day, Franny’s face was a picture of shock. It took her a moment to register what Shannon had meant, but then with her heart pounding, she ran back through the church, catching up with Shannon in the foyer. She roughly grabbed hold of her arm. ‘What did you say?’
Haughtily, Shannon shrugged. ‘Oh, so you want to talk to me now?’
Shaking her hard, Franny hissed, ‘You said, the baby. Tell me what you know about her.’
‘Say please!’
Lunging at her, Franny squeezed Shannon’s face between her fingers as she pushed her against the stone wall. ‘Don’t play games with me, understand? So go on, tell me what you know.’
Pushing her off, Shannon spat out her words. ‘I know that it’s Bree’s baby.’
Franny’s head began to spin again and although she tried to keep her cool, she stuttered her words. ‘How … how do you know about Bree?’
‘There’s a lot of things that I know … Roses are red, violets are blue, we’ve got the baby, so what ya going to do?’
Franny screamed, causing the old lady who was walking into the church to hurry away in fright. ‘You! You! You took Mia. Where is she? Where is she? I said, where the fuck is she? You better not have hurt her!’
Shannon shouted back, ‘No, of course not, we’re looking after her.’
Beside herself with anger, Franny pushed Shannon hard, banging her against the walls of the foyer as questions ran through her head. ‘Who’s we? Who’s we? And … and that letter you wrote, it was …’
Shannon shrugged and interrupted, ‘… like the ones that Alfie had. Yeah, I know. I know all about them because I saw them.’
Confused, Franny quizzed, ‘What? How?’
‘I just did.’
Shaking her head, Franny said, ‘I don’t know how you saw them, but I do know you’re a nasty little bitch! What did Alfie ever do to you?’
Shannon seemed surprised. ‘Alfie! He ain’t done anything. It’s you! It’s you who’s the horrible cow.’
‘This is crazy. I don’t even know you, so just tell me where Mia is. You really don’t want to mess with me.’
‘I’m not scared of you. You can’t do anything to me that ain’t been done before.’
Franny’s eyes darkened. She stepped within inches of Shannon. ‘You’d be surprised what I can do to you that hasn’t been done before.’
Still not backing down, Shannon said, ‘Then you’ll never know where Mia is, will you?’
‘Just tell me.’
‘It’ll cost you.’
Franny sneered. ‘Money? So that’s what this is all about, though it doesn’t surprise me.’
Shannon shook her head. ‘No, it’s about family.’
‘Family? What are you talking about?’
‘Well Uncle Charlie thought it’d be nice for her to stay with family.’
Frowning, Franny said, ‘Charlie? Who’s Charlie?’
Smirking, Shannon sing-songed her words. ‘Oh, you know him well. I’m talking about Charlie Eton. He’s my uncle.’
Franny looked at Shannon in disbelief. ‘What?’
‘Oh yeah, and there’s you thinking I don’t know anything. Looks like it’s you who don’t.’
Still in shock, Franny replied, ‘And are you saying Mia’s with him?’
Shannon laughed. ‘With Charlie? No way, he hates babies. Can’t stand the sight of them. No, Mia’s with her granny. She’s with Ma. Ma Dwyer.’
21
Outside in the rain, Franny paced about as she spoke on the phone. She’d never met Ma Dwyer, but she’d heard of her. Heard of the twisted relationship she’d had with her sons and heard how brutally she’d treated Bree. So, the idea that Ma had Mia felt worse than when she hadn’t known where she was.
And on top of that, the other problem she now had was the fact that Charlie was Ma’s brother, and she had no idea if Alfie knew that or not. Of course, Charlie and Alfie went back a long way, back to when they were kids, but when Alfie had spoken about Charlie’s family earlier, he didn’t seem to know anything about them. So hopefully, he could never put two and two together. Hopefully Charlie wouldn’t speak to Alfie about Mia. Though again, it was all about hope and hope certainly wasn’t going to help her now, especially as she’d blamed Charlie for the fire, which meant Alf would be paying Charlie a visit one way or another very soon. Somehow she needed to stop him.
She rubbed her head, feeling a migraine beginning to kick in. ‘Just give me Mia back, you understand, Ma?’
On the other end of the line, Ma Dwyer sat in her kitchen of the mobile home in Essex she’d once shared with her sons. She dipped the piece of white bread in the runny yolk of her fried egg before shovelling it into her mouth, leaving a dribble of yellow and white running down her chin.
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Franny … Shut up, you noisy little madam!’ Ma turned to shout at Mia who screamed in the corner of the untidy room.
Distressed, Franny clung on to the phone. She spoke gently, appealing, desperate. ‘Ma, please, please, don’t shout at her. She’s only a baby and she’s probably hungry. Have you fed her?’
Nastily, Ma sniffed, burping as she spoke. ‘Who do you think I am? Gordon fucking Ramsay? This ain’t a five-star hotel.’
‘I know, I know, but she still needs to be fed, Ma.’
Ma stared at Mia. ‘Listen here, by the looks of her she’s not only been eating too much, but she’s clearly been spoilt as well. It’ll do her good to know that when she cries people aren’t going to drop everything to run to her. She’ll soon learn. It never did my lot any harm sitting there all day. They soon get tired of screaming.’
Tears ran down Franny’s face as she listened to Mia continue to cry. ‘Ma, I’m begging you, just please, please pick her up.’
‘I ain’t a fucking forklift truck. Now do yourself a favour – stop begging and start talking and maybe that way we can come to some sort of arrangement. Where’s Bree anyway? I would’ve thought she’d be the one calling me.’
Keeping her voice even despite the fact she was trembling, Franny said, ‘She’s too upset … You took her baby, what do you expect?’
Scratching between the folds of fat on her neck, Ma sniffed. ‘But it’s not just her baby, is it? It’s Johnny’s. It’s my son’s baby as well, which means she’s my granddaughter. And he might not be around but that don’t mean I suddenly stop being her granny. And I know my son would’ve wanted me to have her.’
‘You can’t just take other people’s babies.’
Ma snapped, ‘Are you stupid or you just ain’t listening? She isn’t just other people’s, she’s my son’s.’
Franny spoke firmly. ‘Ma, she isn’t though.
Mia isn’t Johnny’s baby.’
It was the first time Ma sounded unsure. ‘What do you mean? I may not be Einstein, but it doesn’t take him to work out when Bree fell pregnant. She was still with Johnny.’
Franny sighed, her migraine now pulsating behind her eyes as she thought about what Ma was saying. She remembered that in the beginning Bree had never been entirely sure whose baby Mia was, mainly because of the slight crossover between Alfie and her husband, Johnny. But to her there was no doubt. She knew Mia was Alfie’s. Watching Mia grow she could see her looking more and more like Alfie each day. Mia was the spitting image of her father.
A slight bit of hope came back into Franny’s voice. ‘No, Ma, Mia came early. She was premature. She’s Alfie’s baby, not Johnny’s. Look at her, Ma. Look at her face. You know Alfie. You can see that she looks like him. Go and look at her, please.’
‘But …’
‘Just do it, Ma.’
‘Okay, okay! Hold on …’ Irritated, Ma stood up, kicking the large tabby cat out of the way as she waddled over to the corner where Mia was sitting in her car seat. Holding the phone, she stared at Mia, seeing Alfie staring back at her.
‘Ma! Ma, are you still there?’ Franny called down the phone, knowing she had to play this right. After all, Mia might not be Johnny’s, but the fact was, Ma still had her.
Waddling back to her chair, Ma answered Franny, ‘Of course I’m still here.’
‘So, did you see? Can you see what I’m saying?’
Not wanting to admit it to Franny that rather than Mia being the image of her son, she was the image of Alfie, Ma tried to sound casual. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. All babies look the same to me.’
‘Maybe they do, Ma, but I’m sure the police would have something to say about kidnapping. Because that’s what this is. Mia has nothing to do with you, but you still took her.’
Ma laughed, though she didn’t feel as confident as she had done half an hour ago. ‘That’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t call the police – that ain’t what you lot do.’
