Aiden glared down at his father. “Why do you have to fuck everything up?”
Duggie shrugged, and this nonchalant gesture pushed Aiden over the edge. Gripping Duggie’s shirt collar, he pulled him clean out of his chair.
Immediately, Vivien was in the living room. “What the bloody hell is going on?” she cried. Aiden landed a hard blow to the side of his father’s head and Duggie stumbled back against the fire place, knocking all their photographs and ornaments to the floor. “For Christ’s sake, Aiden!”
Vivien lunged at her son, slapping him multiple times across the side of his head. Not registering his mother’s assault, Aiden gripped his father’s shirt once more, pulling and pushing him around the room. Duggie was intoxicated and finding it difficult to put up any kind of fight, but he was able to keep upright until Aiden kicked his feet from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. Vivien finally recoiled, shouting profanities at her son as she watched him climb on top of her husband.
Kate appeared at the living room door. Aiden was just about to lay into his father when she screeched, “Aiden, no, please! It’s Christmas Day!”
Aiden glanced up at his sister. Her eyes were streaming with tears. He looked at his mother to see her glaring at him from the kitchen door, a mixture of fear and loathing etched in her expression as she tried to catch her breath. Duggie was lying on the floor, his arms and legs raised to protect his face and body. He was wheezing and he was disorientated.
When Aiden stepped back, no one moved a muscle. Unlike the others, he was hardly affected. He wasn’t breathless or crying. His adrenaline was pumping, but he wasn’t frightened or shaken; he was eager, up for it. He could quite easily put his father into unconsciousness right now and he knew that he was capable of doing so. It was the greatest feeling in the world to finally know that he could fight back. For so many years he had been frightened of his father. But something had changed; something had clicked. In just a matter of weeks, he had matured. He had grown stronger. Through Reggie, he’d already fought much tougher men than the likes of Duggie Foster. He grew stronger every day, fought smarter, and his confidence was through the roof. He was game and he was ready to take on any cunt that upset him or attempted to stand in his way.
Aiden stormed from the room. Passing Kate, he grabbed his Adidas jacket from the coat peg in the hallway and slipped it on, hearing his mother attempting to help Duggie off the floor and his father’s nasty rebuff, but he couldn’t care less about either of them.
Kate was watching from the step at the bottom of the stairs, melancholy etched into her pretty face. He leant down and pressed a rough kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before slamming the front door on them all.
************
It was 2am by the time Aiden returned home that night. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his arms resting beneath his head as he absorbed the rare silence of the dead of night. Downstairs, there had been evidence of an argument – smashed plates on the kitchen floor – but for now, the flat was still, giving an alien sense of peace, contrary to the storm rolling inside his head.
As he reflected on the evening past, sorting out the gang in Shoreditch, he was satisfied that he had shown what he was capable of and certain that word would spread about his performance. He and Reggie wouldn’t have any trouble from Nathan Cheery and his crew in the future. Mission accomplished. Yet one thing was niggling at him.
Reggie had praised him tonight, for his ability to control his attack and not murder each and every one of the cunts. Yet in reality, it hadn’t been control at all: it had been fear. He hadn’t enlightened Reggie of that fact, of course. He was embarrassed and annoyed at himself for his weakness. Kill or be killed was a mantra he’d heard repeatedly growing up under the guardianship of Grant O’Donoghue, and he wholly believed it. If he didn’t have the bottle to take another man’s life, how the hell was he ever going to be at the top of his game?
He closed his eyes. It was food for a lot of thought and he thought on it until the sun marked a new day.
Chapter ten
“Oi, Aiden, a dicky-bird tells me you can get motors on the cheap,” Roy Watson called over the square abutting the Carlton estate. The square consisted of what a council estate was commonly assumed to require: an off-licence, newsagents, fish and chip shop, laundrette and a betting shop.
Roy had just been in the latter. He’d put a twenty-pound bet on Forever Blowing Bubbles, the favourite horse to win that afternoon. Roy’s tone was derogatory, as it always was when he spoke to Aiden Foster. He had never made it a secret that he wasn’t a fan of the young lad who seemed to hold everyone’s attention.
Roy was well known on the estate, frequenting the local pub and betting shop on a regular basis, so of course he knew Aiden’s father, but Duggie didn’t like Roy and the feeling was mutual as far as Roy was concerned. Yet like so many who enjoyed a few too many drinks, the men tolerated each other in order to secure a drinking buddy whenever they needed one and, in their inebriated state, they frequently complained about their kids with mutual distaste.
Aiden stopped in his tracks and turned to face the child-beating fuck who he would love to kick two shits out of, thinking that maybe today was the day. Roy was watching him with a quivering smirk on his lips. He didn’t believe for one second that Aiden Foster would have the intelligence or the will to steal cars and sell them on. That game took guts and diligence. Roy had known a fair few thieves in his life. It was one thing stealing something with your mates and dumping it when the fun was over, but it was quite another to actually make a business out of it.
Despite his reservations, Roy had been told by Marvin Price in the betting shop just ten minutes ago that he’d bought a shiny new Astra for a third of the market value, thanks to Aiden Foster. Roy had laughed and told him the kid probably had fuck-all to do with it and was just running his mouth to make him look the big man. Marvin hadn’t answered Roy, who he thought had the biggest chip on his shoulder, and had left in his new car with a smile on his face.
Aiden strode up to Roy and puffed a cloud of smoke into his green eyes. “Say it a bit louder, Roy. I don’t think Scotland Yard heard you,” he growled quietly.
Aiden towered over him, but Roy merely smirked. “You ain’t got the sense to pull something like that off…”
“Really?” Aiden stepped back and pulled hard on his cigarette. “If you don’t believe it, Roy, then why the fuck are you asking me about it?” he replied, shrugging his shoulders imperturbably.
Roy’s eyes narrowed as he wracked his brain for a decent response, but he wasn’t that smart. Instead, he used his typical line of attack. He got angry and changed the subject. “You seen my Gina?”
Aiden attempted, though failed, to hide his amusement. To his constant pleasure, Roy had never been as arrogant or quick-tongued as he. He made no effort to answer Roy. He didn’t know where Gina was and, at that moment, he didn’t really care. He flicked his cigarette onto the pavement and made to leave, but Roy gripped his arm. “You shaggin’ my daughter, Foster?” he asked gravely.
Aiden’s eyes fell to Roy’s hand. He stared at it for a moment then he glared at him as if he was about to commit his first murder. He shrugged him off. “Touch me again…” he began, dangerously.
“Hiya!”
Gina’s voiced sliced through their altercation. She sauntered sexily across the square and both men stepped away from each other. Roy’s lips pressed into a hard line and he exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, too quiet for Aiden to notice. Aiden turned and watched Gina’s approach impassively, though he couldn’t prevent himself from glancing at her long legs, bare and exposed beneath a very short black skirt. She bounced as she walked in her Adidas trainers, her hands inside the pockets of her fake leather jacket.
It was clear that her enthusiasm was generated by Aiden’s presence rather than her father’s. When she approached him, she wanted nothing more than to grab his beautiful face and plant her lips on his, but in th
e presence of her father, Aiden would not see it as appropriate.
“What you up to?” she asked apprehensively, as her eyes flitted between the two most influential men in her life.
“Aiden reckons he can get me a motor…” Roy announced, derision returning to his voice.
Gina smiled, neglecting to notice her father’s attempt to ridicule her man.
She peered up at Aiden expectantly. He couldn’t deny the beseeching in her large green eyes. He pursed his lips in thought and for some unfathomable reason, he said, not taking his eyes from her, “Alright, what do you want, Roy?”
Gina’s eyes twinkled with affection and, he thought, a glint of surprise. Roy remained unconvinced, and he didn’t like the way his daughter was gazing at Aiden all doe-eyed and desirous, but for sheer amusement he replied, “I fancy a Corsa, for the right price…”
Aiden turned back to Roy. “How much you got to spend?”
“Get me something for about a grand and you’ve got a deal…”
Gina shot her father a look of panic. “Dad, we ain’t got that kind of money! I was thinking a couple of hundred!”
Aiden smiled to himself. He knew Roy was playing him, and didn’t think he could pull it off, but he would pull it off. He would show the condescending prick just how much he’d underestimated him. He would take the opportunity to teach the old cunt a lesson, once and for all.
Gina watched her father stroll up the street with narrowed eyes then turning back to Aiden she pleaded, “Don’t get him nothing, Aiden. He won’t have the money to pay for it.”
“Well, he’ll have to find it then, won’t he?” He made to leave.
She took his arm. “Please, Aiden!”
He shook her off immediately and scowled. “What is it with you Watsons, thinking you can fucking touch me whenever you like!”
Gina couldn’t conceal her initial shock. She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ shape. In the next moment, her nostrils flared and her top lip curled under the weight of her spiked temper. Pushing him away from her, she spat, “Where have you been the past few weeks, eh?” Aiden walked away. “Oh, off you go then, crawl back into your fucking hiding place!” she yelled after him. But she wasn’t going to let him go this time. For weeks she’d longed to see him. She jogged up the street and stopped in front of him. Aiden sighed with irritation. “Don’t walk away from me!” she cried. Her face was flushed with anger but her eyes betrayed her. She gazed at his handsome face, longing for his attention.
“I’m busy, G…” he sighed. He attempted to sidestep her, but she pushed him back with all of her strength; angrily, desperately.
Aiden didn’t allow anyone to manhandle him the way Gina often did. His father had been the first and last person to do so. But in some sick way, he enjoyed watching Gina lose control of herself because of him. He knew that, deep down, she hated him, even if she hadn’t quite figured that out herself yet, and in some twisted act of self-hatred, he felt safe in that reality. In fact, he loved it, and he was certain it was the same for her. She thrived on the pain he caused her. Both of them were drunk on hate. It was all they knew, all they had been convinced they deserved, and consequently it was all they craved.
As well as he knew how to vex Gina, he knew how to appease her also. Swaggering up to her, he grabbed the back of her head, fisting her dark hair, and pressed his lips to hers. He slid his tongue into her mouth forcefully, making the kiss unbearably erotic. He waited for her to yield, continuing to explore her mouth with his tongue until she finally submitted. He stepped back and watched her battle with her emotions. He had realised a long time ago that he had a great power over this girl, and like anything he felt could be used to his advantage, he would utilise his power over her for his own gain.
Chapter eleven
Gina stood outside The Stag waiting for Aiden. He’d called her at home an hour ago and arranged to meet. It was a typically freezing February afternoon and Aiden was, as always, late. She was just about to retreat inside when Jason Ryan came strolling up the road in jeans and an American sports bomber jacket that he’d purchased in the summer of ’86 when holidaying in Orlando with his parents.
Jason Ryan was the antithesis of all the other young men who lived on or around the estate. The girls likened him to an ‘American jock’, but the boys just thought he was a jumped-up prick, which he was. Considering Jason lived only five minutes’ walk from the estate, he prided himself on being above everyone because he’d had trials for West Ham and his parents owned their house.
He was a sturdy lad, with blonde hair, cropped neatly around his large forehead, green eyes and a long nose. He smiled when he spotted Gina and immediately pulled her into a long kiss. Gina pushed him away abruptly. “Not here, Jay!”
Jason frowned. He wasn’t used to a girl being so secretive about their sporadic affair and he was growing tired of it. Gina was the hottest girl on the estate, but any other would run over hot coals to earn his notice. Pulling her roughly to him once more, he planted yet another kiss on her lips then pushed her away abruptly to make his point.
It was during that second kiss that Aiden pulled up in front of the pub in a navy Ford Fiesta. Skidding to a halt, he wound down the window. “Get in…” he instructed coldly, his piercing blue eyes glaring at Gina. He didn’t acknowledge Jason.
“Thanks a bunch!” she sneered, then slipped her slender body into Aiden’s car. Despite his anger, Aiden copped an eyeful of her long shiny legs as she swung them round in her seat. She was wearing a black Lycra mini skirt, trainers and an Adidas jacket. Even when casual, she looked ten times hotter than the other girls on the estate. Aiden didn’t value this, mind. As far as he was concerned, she was privileged to be of interest to him, especially right now. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and sped away from the kerb. A suffocating silence grew between the pair as Aiden drove the car towards Haggerston.
Gina spoke first, as usual. “Where d’you get the car?” she asked, timidly. Aiden didn’t answer, which she was expecting. She knew this game all too well and so waited for a long moment to allow him to stew before saying, “He approached me. I told him to piss off.”
Aiden replied rather too casually, “Well, if I see him bothering you again, I’ll kill him.” He took a deep breath and to her delight he added conversationally, “I picked the car up from Alex this morning. Alright, innit? With Ricky on board, we’re knocking out two a week and Alex reckons he might be able to up that to three soon.”
Gina grinned from ear to ear. If they had been walking she would have had a spring in her step. She had prepared herself for another onslaught, but it looked as though Aiden had different ideas. She replied enthusiastically, “Yeah, definitely. I bet you could get a good couple of thou for it!”
Aiden didn’t answer. He wouldn’t get that much, but he basked in her admiration anyhow. Gina had always believed in him and, deep down, he appreciated that fact.
After a short while, they passed Haggerston underground station and Aiden spun a right onto Middleton Road.
“Posh round here…” Gina announced, staring out of the window as they pulled up alongside a row of terrace houses, all with front gardens and stone steps leading up to the front doors.
“Look, I need you to do me a favour…”
Gina sighed and turned to meet his eyes. “I thought you were taking me out, Aiden?” she scowled.
“I am, but I need you to do something for me first…”
Gina stepped up to the front door of the townhouse just a few doors down from where they had parked up. She was suddenly nervous. She’d never collected a debt before, except from her useless father, who was in more debt than she’d ever know. She ran Aiden’s brief instructions through her mind: ‘You just need to flirt with him a bit. He can be a bit of bastard, but I need to keep him sweet.’
She sighed and pressed the buzzer, realising that the beautiful house was in fact a block of apartments. The man she needed to see was located on the top fl
oor, according to the intercom. There was a crackle then a deep husky voice… of a woman. “Hello?”
Gina cleared her throat. “I’m looking for Mr Baker?”
The woman over the intercom was obviously surprised to hear a female’s voice talk back to her, but this didn’t seem to anger her like one would expect from a woman discovering that another woman was looking for her partner – if she was his partner. In fact, her tone changed immediately from abrupt to cheery.
“He’s actually just popped out. Do you want to come up and wait?” Gina didn’t want that one bit, but she couldn’t see Aiden to get his attention through the tall bushes surrounding the garden. “Hello?”
“Um… yeah, sorry, thanks.”
The door buzzed and Gina made her way to the top floor. There was only one door and she tapped on it lightly. The door swung open and a tall, attractive young woman with dark skin, a huge afro and wide brown eyes smiled down at her. “Come in!”
Gina stepped into the large apartment, taking in the expensive furnishings as she followed the overfriendly woman into the lounge. The room was bright and airy, with two large floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the street below. Gina crossed the room and took a sneaky peek out of the window. She could see Aiden’s car now, and Aiden waiting patiently, smoking a cigarette.
When she turned, the woman was smiling at her. “And you are?” she asked kindly.
“Uh… Gina. Gina Watson.” She held out her hand and the woman took it, squeezing it lightly.
“Jackie Mansfield.”
“Nice to meet you, Jackie…”
“Please, take a seat.” Jackie gestured to the bright yellow leather couch. “Can I get you something to drink whilst you wait?” She grinned, her bright white teeth gleaming back.
This young woman was well kept, and Gina thought her to be no older than twenty-five years old. She wondered whether she was the wife of the man she had come to see. She wasn’t exactly giving her the third degree about who she was and what she wanted with her man. Gina’s eyes instinctively glanced at Jackie’s left hand: no ring.
Human Conditioning Page 9
