Bad Blood

by Kelleher, Casey

  Talk about giving the place a bad name. Luckily it hadn’t seemed to stick. As a new venue, Destiny’s stood out. Its plush décor and prime location drew punters in.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.’ Closing the door behind Monica, Kelly had just put the key in the lock when she felt it being forced back open.

  ‘What you forgotten now?’ Kelly laughed thinking Monica had come back. The girl was so bleeding forgetful that she’d leave behind her head if it wasn’t attached.

  ‘It’s me, you doughnut. Open up.’

  Hearing her brother’s familiar voice, Kelly sighed. She was exhausted after tonight’s shift and the last thing she wanted right now was Christopher on her doorstep again.

  ‘You’ve had the takings already.’ Kelly twisted her key back out of the lock; she felt uneasy about protesting, especially as she could tell her brother was wired. It was all well and good Nathan putting a ban on Christopher being here, but it wasn’t him who had to instil it, and now she was faced with him on her own.

  ‘I know that. I ain’t got bloody dementia.’ Christopher rolled his eyes. ‘I want a drink, don’t I.’

  Stepping back as Christopher pushed his way in through the half open door, Kelly sighed as Christopher threw her a deliberate wink, knowingly trying to piss her off.

  ‘Fucking hell, Kelly, the fucking face on you! You got PMT or something?’

  ‘If I had to be bleeding every time I found you annoying, Christopher, I’d be frigging anaemic,’ Kelly shot back sensing that her brother was clearly in one of his wind-up moods.

  Christopher laughed despite himself.

  His sister was a hard-faced bitch at times and whereas most people would shit their pants faced with him in one of his moods, Kelly gave back as good as she got.

  ‘Here, I hope your sour moosh ain’t been putting off the punters. You gonna get us a drink then or what?’ Christopher sat down at one of the tables ignoring Kelly’s stroppy mood. He knew he wasn’t wanted here, but he didn’t give a shit.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket he checked it for messages, half expecting at least some kind of apology from Nathan for being so short with him. There was nothing. Not so much as a fucking word. Throwing his phone down on the table Christopher was fuming. How long was he going to have the nark?

  The wine bar was supposed to be their investment. He and Nathan had gone in on it together. Nathan seemed to have forgotten the fact that they were partners in this.

  In fact, if it hadn’t been for him getting rid of Keith Ryan, Nathan would have never even secured the place at all. So if anything, Christopher had even more rights than he did. He may not have a smart mind or mouth like his brother, but his methods had gotten him results. Forget flattery, it was violence that got you everywhere in his book.

  ‘Go easy, yeah,’ Kelly said warily as she placed the glass down in front of her brother, noting how miserable he looked, and judging by the frown on his face, she thought that something, or someone, must have severely pissed him off. Kelly wasn’t sure if plying him with alcohol was going to make him feel better or worse, but knowing how unpredictable he could be, she was putting her money on the latter.

  ‘I tell you what, Kel, you just do what you’re paid to do, yeah? Pour the fucking drinks, and keep your opinions to yourself.’ Then looking down at his own massive frame he added sarcastically, ‘Last time I checked I was a big fucking boy, yeah. So just keep them coming. Go on. I’ll have another.’

  ‘Look, I’m just looking out for you, that’s all . . .’ Kelly placed another rum down in front of him.

  Downing his drink, Christopher slammed the glass down on the table arrogantly. ‘I think you forget, Kelly, that this is my bar, not yours, so I’ll say when I’ve had enough. Now, get me another.’

  Taking his glass, Kelly had a bad feeling.

  Picking her phone up from behind the bar, she pretended to be busy filling her brother’s glass with ice as she quickly dialled Nathan’s number. Nathan had expressly told her that he didn’t want Christopher hanging about the place causing any more grief than he had done already, so she thought she’d call him.

  Only he’d switched his bloody phone off.

  So now it seemed that she was going to be stuck here on her tod, trying to pacify her brother and his almighty temper by herself, and already on his third drink, she had a feeling that the way things were going she could be in for a long night.

  ‘Does Nathan know you’re here?’ Kelly enquired, hoping that the mention of their brother might make Christopher think twice about starting any more trouble. The only good thing was that there were no punters here if he did.

  ‘I don’t need Saint Nathan’s fucking permission, you know,’ Christopher sneered as he watched Kelly slam about collecting the glasses from the bar. ‘This is my fucking bar too.’

  ‘I’m not being funny, but I’m sure he won’t be too happy if I keep pouring drinks down your throat. And I don’t want him to think that I’m not doing my job properly. Being the landlady ’en all . . .’

  ‘Landlady?’ Christopher roared with laughter as he banged his hand down on the wooden table. ‘Fuck off Kel, you did a one day fucking training course that even a bloody monkey could have done. You’re just a glorified barmaid. You’re only here because Dad asked Nathan to put you on the payroll to keep you from pining over that prick of a husband of yours. He felt sorry for you and wanted to give you something to do.’ Christopher grinned now, slurring as he spoke. He leant back on his chair. ‘It was all part of his great plan, so stop chatting shit to me and do as you’ve been told. Fetch me another drink.’

  ‘What do you mean, plan?’ Christopher was talking shit, but his words had instantly got her back up. He was really pissing her off now.

  ‘Stranks in name, Kel, but you’re a Woods by nature and Dad was bang on.’

  ‘Bang on about what? Dad was just trying to help us out. What are you talking about?’ Christopher was obviously trying his best to rattle her, and it was working. Slowly losing her patience, Kelly knew that she was playing into his hands by asking him to elaborate, knowing how her brother got a kick out of winding people up. But she wanted to know what he meant.

  ‘Fuck me, Kelly. Have a day off, would you! I’ll get my own fucking drink, shall I?’ Snorting now, Christopher stood up and made his way to the bar, taking great pleasure in leaving Kelly hanging.

  ‘Tell me what you meant.’ Kelly’s heart pounded in her chest as Christopher filled his glass from the optic. Pouring a double measure of rum into his glass, he didn’t bother with the ice or Coke this time.

  ‘Fucking hell, Kel, I thought I was supposed to be the thick cunt of the family. Dad weren’t trying to help you. Him and Raymond planned it all, didn’t they? They gave you the money to get yourself out of debt, and they set Terry up. Except they didn’t plan on your divvy bastard husband doing a runner, did they?’ Downing the drink in one, he smiled. Going by the look on Kelly’s face, his bossy sister wasn’t feeling so cocky now, and Christopher was thoroughly enjoying himself.

  ‘You’re lying!’ But Kelly knew that he wasn’t.

  ‘Am I?’ Christopher grinned. Kelly was close to tears now. ‘You’re not seriously telling me that you believe Dad had some sort of an epiphany and wanted to welcome Terry back into the family and the firm with open arms? Fucking hell, Kel, they must have seen the pair of you coming.’

  Christopher was really enjoying himself now. He could see by Kelly’s face that his words stung her, and he was glad. He was so close to really fucking losing his rag tonight, why shouldn’t he set the cat among the pigeons. His dad and Nathan treated him like a moron, so he may as well play up to it.

  Fuck them. Fuck them all.

  ‘Dad wouldn’t do that to me.’ Kelly’s voice was quiet now, as she tried to piece together all the conversations she’d had with him since. He’d been trying to
help her, trying to help Terry, hadn’t he?

  ‘You know that for a fact, do you? You know Dad so well, don’t you? You have no idea about the shit Dad keeps from you,’ Christopher sneered. ‘And what about your cunt of a husband, huh? Do you know where Terry was the night he claimed to have been mugged?’ Christopher waited now.

  Kelly had shut up, and he could see that for the first time this evening he had her full attention. ‘He was holed up in Raymond’s brothel trying to get his leg over with one of his Romanian whores. The girl was only a little bit older than our Evie apparently.’

  Kelly looked like she’d been slapped in the face. Holding onto the bar, she felt humiliated that Terry had cheated on her yet again. The fact that her entire family knew about it made it even worse.

  ‘Get out.’ Her voice remained stone cold as she spoke.

  Suddenly she no longer found Christopher’s huge frame intimidating, nor was she wary of his quick temper. Suddenly she no longer cared.

  She could see through his big bad boy persona.

  Christopher was just plain nasty.

  He was heartless.

  Stood here rubbing her nose in it, he was clearly loving every minute of her anguish.

  ‘Oh don’t worry, Kel, I’m going.’ Slamming his glass down on the bar, Christopher couldn’t help but put on the campest wave he could muster. ‘Toodles.’

  Sauntering out of the bar, with a massive smile on his face, he felt so much better, having rendered Kelly silent with his revelation.

  His sister wasn’t so fucking full of it now.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cowering in a newsagent’s doorway, Terry pressed his body up against the pane of glass, keeping out of sight as a group of lads walked noisily past. Shouting and cheering, the group sounded drunk, and in their high spirits they probably wouldn’t have even noticed Terry skulking about, looking like another of London’s homeless. Still, Terry didn’t want to take any chances.

  It was the early hours of the morning but Soho was wide awake. Wardour Street was busy, and people were bustling out of the late night bars and strip clubs around him.

  They were ignoring him, he realised, and he felt almost invisible.

  Finally he could relax.

  Taking a deep breath, Terry scanned the length of the street before stepping out from where he had been hiding. He double checked his mum’s scribbled handwriting; he’d been round there before he’d come here, at a loss as to why his house was stood empty. Unwilling to contact Kelly in case she told Harry his whereabouts, Terry had come here to see for himself if his mother had her facts right.

  Kelly? Landlady of a bar in Soho? It just didn’t add up.

  Now he was here, he was convinced that his dear old mum must be going doolally.

  Peering over the road, she’d been right about the address. The bar did say ‘Destiny’s’.

  It was plush too. Terry had been half expecting some kind of shithole. He thought that the place would look as cheap and tacky as it sounded, but standing here now, eyeing the fancy signage and the poncy looking bay trees that lined the main entrance, Terry was baffled.

  Making his way over to the main door, he looked up to the gold plaque that hung above it. There printed on the metal sign was his wife’s name: ‘Kelly Stranks, licensee’.

  How was it possible?

  Two weeks he’d been on the run. Just two. As it turned out, you could do a lot in that small amount of time, just as his wife had clearly proved.

  In all the years Terry had known Kelly she’d never failed to surprise him with her selfishness. But this . . . This one had topped them all. All the time he had been on the run, clawing his way through bins for food, and slumming it in derelict squats, he’d expected Kelly to have been out of her mind with worry for him.

  Had she fuck!

  As always she had been looking out for number one.

  Somehow the selfish bitch had managed to move her and his kids out of their home, out of the place that they had lived together in as a family for the past seven years, without so much as even waiting to consult him.

  It was a complete liberty.

  For all Kelly had known he could have been lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

  The self-centred bitch obviously hadn’t agonised over his whereabouts for too long. Maybe a few minutes at the most, Terry thought, because make no mistakes, there were no flies on that fucking woman.

  Seeing a young couple walking towards him, arms linked as they laughed loudly together, Terry moved quickly back down to the sanctuary of another shop doorway, still paranoid that he might be seen.

  Staring back at the bar, Terry thought that Kelly’s name might be hanging over the door, but that place had Harry Woods’ name written all over it. Terry would put his life on the fact that it was Harry’s way of sticking his two fingers up at him.

  He must have had it all planned from the start. How would he get his hands on this place so quickly and move Kelly in otherwise?

  With Terry out of the way, Kelly would conveniently forget all about him. That was Harry’s plan. It must have been. The bloke clearly knew his daughter well.

  Once a Woods, always a Woods.

  Kelly obviously didn’t give a flying shit about him. Lording it up here, like the lady of the manor. Terry could just imagine it.

  Well. Harry could try to tempt that selfish mare of a wife away with promises of a better life, but there was no way that he was keeping him from his kids. There was no way he was going to stand for that. Harry’s plan was about to go tits up once more.

  Billy and Miley were his life. They had his name. They were Strankses. There was no way that Terry was going to leave them here with that bitch.

  No way in hell.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jolting bolt upright in bed, Kelly took a few seconds to gain her bearings as she stared around the dark room, her eyes focusing on the small slither of light that seeped in from under the door.

  She’d heard something. She was sure of it.

  Listening out against the silence in case one of the kids had stirred, she couldn’t hear anything now.

  She hated sleeping on her own at the best of times. Tonight even more so. Her head was all over the place. Since Christopher had left she hadn’t been able to get his words out of her head. She replayed them over and over. Terry had broken her heart.

  He’d done it a thousand times over since they’d married. The randy bastard was always cheating on her. He had promised her after the last time that he’d never do it to her again. Except he had. Kelly knew that he’d never change his ways. He couldn’t. It just wasn’t in him.

  As for her dad and Raymond setting Terry up, they had no right.

  Her dad had made out that he was helping her, but all along he was settling his own score, getting his revenge. She wished with all her heart that Christopher had been shit stirring, doing his usual and winding her up. But as she recalled her brother’s complacent tone, she knew that what he said had been true.

  It had taken her ages to fall asleep after he’d left. When she finally had, it was only because she had cried herself to exhaustion. Then the bad dreams had come.

  Hearing another bang, Kelly felt her heart quicken.

  She’d definitely heard the noise this time.

  A loud bang, from downstairs.

  Wiping her eyes, she wasn’t sure what to do. The last people she wanted to call out were her brother or her dad, especially after what Christopher had said. She felt foolish enough as it was, and calling them out because she’d heard ‘a bump in the night’ would only reinforce the fact that they thought she couldn’t fend for herself. Plus, she was fuming with them all.

  She’d have to check it out herself.

  It was probably just one of the kids anyway. This place was still so new to them all, every noise, every
creak. It was bound to be unfamiliar.

  Throwing on her dressing gown, Kelly wrapped the fleece material tightly around her, and then switched the bedroom lamp on.

  The bare floor was freezing, and she tiptoed carefully so that she didn’t step on any more nails from the exposed gripper rods. She’d stood on so many nails tonight that her feet felt like pin cushions. The carpet fitters were due in the morning and that couldn’t come soon enough. The decorators had been in and made the place look lovely, but it wouldn’t be until the carpet was all down that the place would properly feel like home and she could start putting all their stuff away.

  Making her way down the hallway, Kelly peered in through the crack in Miley’s door. Feeling relieved when she saw her daughter all tucked up under her covers, Kelly couldn’t help but smile. Miley had spent the evening being looked after by her Auntie Evie, and instead of being in her pyjamas the girl was wearing her Tinker Bell dress-up outfit. Kelly had put Evie in a cab before she had locked up for the night, and as it turned out she was beginning to think that her dad was right. Evie was an angel. Kelly would have been lost without her helping out with the kids this week. Smiling as she saw that Miley, ever the little fidget, had somehow turned right around in her sleep and had her foot wedged up against her night light, Kelly crept back out so as not to wake her.

  Moving on to the next room, Kelly peered in and saw Billy fast asleep too. Cocooned under his duvet, snoring his head off, he was out for the count.

  Kelly felt relieved that the kids were okay, but then, as she wondered what had made the noises, she began to panic once more.

  She was going to have to check downstairs.

  Every house had its strange noises at night, and this place being so large and prominently placed in the middle of one of Soho’s busiest streets was no exception.