She had, inadvertently, found out about Aiden’s car-theft business from Kate on their wedding day. What she hadn’t realised then was how long it had been going on. A flickering memory of Aiden turning up in a blue Nova in the school car park entered unwanted into her mind. That was the day he had left her to pursue a shady career, free from the constraints of her and her parents – or ‘Filth’, as Aiden sometimes labels them. “And he worked for Reggie Driscoll, didn’t he?” she muttered into her glass as she took a large gulp of wine.
“Yeah… Aiden loved Reggie. Did you ever meet him before he was… before he died?”
“No, no I didn’t.” Lily didn’t want to go into the night Reggie had been killed. It had been the night she’d sealed her fate with Aiden. The memory was a painful and depressing one.
Grant took the liberty to continue, “Reggie seemed to gain Aiden’s trust. In fact, I think Reggie was the only man to do as much. Aiden doesn’t trust easily, but I’m sure you know that.” He took a long gulp of his Glenlivet, his eyebrows set into a frown once more. “Reggie and Aiden’s relationship was one that I’d hoped to have had with Aiden myself. But I guess I was too driven by the need to protect him and the family. I pushed him away…” He tailed off as if this was the first time he’d considered this possibility.
“What happened then?”
Grant took another gulp. Lily could sense that he was summing up her question and trying to stitch together an adequate response without giving away whatever he was evidently hiding from her. He finally replied, on a shrug, “We went our separate ways. I regret it now, but I let my anger at Aiden affect mine and Vivien’s friendship. The money I had been slipping her over the years stopped. At the time, because I was angry, I had insisted that Aiden needed to take responsibility for his family. But it was an unfair request…”
“How old was he then?”
“It was around the same time he started working for Reggie, just after he left school…” Lily’s stomach lurched at this prospect. It would have been just after they had broken up. “…Part of me wanted him to fall flat on his arse, if truth be told. I had been looking after the boy practically since he had been born. I guess I wanted some recognition. I never had me own kids… I suppose I wanted him to see me as his dad. He certainly didn’t see Duggie as anything but a pest. Duggie hasn’t been a great father to either of his kids. Aiden had a rough time with him. He couldn’t bear being in the same room as him most of the time. In the end, though, Aiden couldn’t stand the sight of any of us.” Grant drained his glass, and for a moment he stared down into it, deep in thought.
Lily watched him, musingly. It was possible that Aiden had rebelled against Grant out of resentment and spite; that he had become what he was in order to show this man, and his family, exactly what he was able to achieve without them. Her argument with Aiden outside the pub at New Year came back to haunt her: ‘Has your dad ever spent money that was meant to buy food for that week, so instead you starve?’ and her retort: ‘So you turn to a life of crime just to show how disappointed you are with the world?’
It was an unnerving thought, but she wondered now whether she had hit the nail on the head that night. The rebellion against his guardians did suit the bitter, malevolent side of Aiden that she was so mindful of these days. When Lily met Grant’s gaze, he was watching her, his eyes narrowed inquisitively. “Most of what I’m telling you is all news to you, isn’t it?”
She gulped and nervously ran her fingers over the side of her glass. “Yes,” she whispered.
Grant smiled fondly at what she thought was another batch of memories. “The Fosters are big fans of discretion, particularly when it comes to family matters.”
“Did Vivien know about Aiden’s illegal dealings back then?”
“She knew about the cars and the drugs…”
Lily jumped on this immediately. “What did she not know about?”
Grant surveyed her for a long moment. She could tell that he was once again calculating an adequate answer, and soon, there it was, his guardedness. It was as clear as if a physical metal shutter was closing between them.
He sighed. “What’s this all about?”
Lily dropped her eyes once more and shook her head. “Nothing…”
“Lily, what is it?” Grant pressed.
She plastered on a smile. “Nothing… really… I just came to say thanks. I’d best be off. Aiden will be home soon,” she lied.
Scraping her stool over the stone floor, she gathered up her bag and, manoeuvring Amy’s pushchair, she headed for the door. She was mortified. The next part of the story was a no-go zone, a vital piece of the jigsaw that he was reluctant to lay on the table. Before she could open the kitchen doors, Grant was there doing it for her. She smiled weakly up at him and pushed Amy’s pushchair hastily into the hallway, heading for the front door. Grant rushed to her side. Opening the door, he watched her leave with apprehension.
Grant never liked to pry into people’s business, unless it was to do with his business, but he knew what business Aiden was in, and he got the feeling that Lily may have inkling too. Even so, he couldn’t get involved. He’d already learned not to interfere in Aiden’s life. She was at the end of the garden path when he called, “Is there anything I can do?” even though he knew his offer was fruitless.
Lily froze and turned to face him. “No,” she replied, tears pricking her eyes. “Thank you.” She ventured a watery smile then headed for the car. Grant watched her for a moment as she prepared her child for the journey, then he slipped back inside the house.
Lily drove with tears streaming down her cheeks. Grant had given her a lot of information tonight, but it shed no more light on how Aiden had got into what he was doing now, and she wanted to know every tiny detail about why her husband was this way. Maybe, if she understood, she could learn to live with it. She shook her head in disgust at herself.
When she arrived home, it was before 9pm. It was a Thursday. Aiden would be home early, but she had enough time to settle Amy down into her cot and get herself into bed before he arrived. Then she would pretend that she was asleep and, hopefully, he would not bother her.
Chapter forty-three
Lily got out of her Chevrolet Corvette Coupé and stared up at the large sign over the building that read, ‘Harper’s Sports and Fitness Centre’. She opened the boot of the car and pulled out the only sports bag she could find in the house. It was Aiden’s. She walked around to the passenger side and got Amy out of her car seat. “Come on, you,” she chuckled as Amy’s tiny mouth opened into a long yawn and her ocean-blue eyes widened and blinked. “Are you tired, my beautiful girl?”
After she had completed the necessary forms and given over Aiden’s bank details for her new gym membership, she took Amy into the changing rooms and they dressed for the swimming baths. She had bought her a little multi-coloured swimming costume with frills around the belly and a My Little Pony inflatable swim ring to go around her little waist. She looked so cute in them both.
Dipping her feet into the warm water of the pool, Lily carried Amy tight to her chest until she was waist deep. Then, carefully, she held Amy out in front of her and dipped her podgy legs into the water. Amy began to kick instantly. “Aren’t you clever?” Lily beamed at her little girl, and Amy beamed back, chuckling as Lily began to move her about the water.
“Is this her first time?”
Lily turned to see that a man had descended into the pool behind her. He was grinning from ear to ear, his long blond hair falling scruffily over his face. “Uh, yes,” she replied, feeling somewhat exposed in her swimming costume. A passing thought of Aiden’s face if he saw her now – half dressed and talking to another man – entered unwillingly into her mind, and she had to force it away.
Oblivious to her discomfort, the man added kindly, “She seems to have already got the hang of it. Is she yours?”
Lily hesitated then replied, “Yes.”
“What’s her name?”
�
��Amy.”
His chocolate brown eyes were twinkling with the fondness of one who adores children, “Well, Amy, you are a very clever girl,” he said.
Lily watched him intently as he addressed her child. He was good-looking in a hippy kind of way, with light stubble over his chin and above his upper lip, and she wouldn’t put him past twenty-five years old. He was slim and his shoulders and chest were of regular size, but he was toned, as though he was a frequent user of the gym, which she expected he probably was.
When he looked back up at her, one of his hands appeared from below the water. “Robert Wesley,” he announced.
Lily gulped, peering down at his large wet hand. “Lily,” she croaked. She could not give a handshake because she was holding Amy above water. Hiding your wedding ring, she thought fleetingly.
Robert rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he scolded himself playfully, and realising his mistake, he said, “It was nice to meet you, Lily,” before dipping himself fully into the water and swimming away somewhat hastily. Lily frowned after him. Had she embarrassed him? She hadn’t meant to.
Lily and Amy were dressed and sitting in the café an hour later. Lily had retrieved Amy’s pushchair from the car, and Amy was now fast asleep in it. Lily was nibbling on a niçoise salad, idly thinking how famished she was and, on a completely different matter, what she could do to avoid Aiden that afternoon. It was a Sunday, so he was due home early.
“Hello again.”
Lily looked up into the brown eyes of Robert. Placing her knife and fork down, she gently wiped her mouth with a serviette. “Oh, hello…” she smiled timidly.
“May I join you?” Robert peered down at her food. “I have to confess, I wasn’t planning on being as healthy as you are being… I was going to have a bowl of chips… but now I think I’d feel too guilty!” he laughed.
“Please, don’t change your mind on my account. In fact, we were just about to leave.”
Robert glanced at her plate again and the fact that she was barely half way through her meal was not lost on him. His lip twitched into a grin. “I think you aren’t being very honest with me there.”
Lily shifted awkwardly in her chair, and holding up her left hand she announced, “I’m married.”
Robert’s hands went to his mouth and he gasped theatrically, “Oh no!” He dropped his hands and raised an eyebrow, like Aiden would do, and Lily’s breath hitched. “I didn’t realise you couldn’t speak to the opposite sex when they are married…” he added, pleasantly sardonic.
“You don’t know my husband,” Lily muttered, and his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t ask her to elaborate. It wasn’t exactly his business.
“I would really like to join you,” he said, gazing down at her, his grin not having left his face since his arrival.
Lily yielded on a good-humoured sigh. “OK.”
“Great… back in a sec!”
He turned on his heels and Lily watched him with interest as he ordered his food at the counter. When he returned to the table, he had a milkshake in his hand. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say ‘that’s a strange choice of drink for a fully grown man’ and he replied, “You can’t beat the shakes here… and if I can’t have chips…”
Lily laughed. “I’m not stopping you having chips. That is your own insecurity…” She smiled and began tucking into her salad as Robert sucked on his straw. Lily swallowed a mouthful then pressed, “What did you order, then?”
“The niçoise salad seems to be very popular around here,” he replied on a grin.
Lily chuckled. “Really? Well, I’m afraid to say it is less than average.”
Robert walked Lily and Amy out into the car park. When they approached the car, he whistled in appreciation. “Nice motor!”
“Oh, thanks…”
Lily was suddenly embarrassed, and as if he were reading her mind, he said, “Hey, don’t be coy… if I had a wife as lovely as you, I would want her to have the best too.”
“And who says Aiden bought me the car?”
“Aiden… is that your husband?”
“Yes.”
Robert nodded. “Well, Aiden is giving you the very best and that will help me sleep tonight.”
Lily frowned. What an odd thing to say to a stranger. “Well, I’d best get Amy strapped in.”
“Do you want some help?”
“No, thank you, I’m quite capable.”
“I’m certain you are…” Robert tailed off as his chocolate brown eyes met Lily’s sparkling blue gaze and took in just how beautiful she was. He didn’t want their meeting to end, and inside he was bursting to ask her if he could lunch with her again, but he didn’t. She was married. So he would leave their next encounter in the lap of the gods.
“Goodbye, then,” he said.
“Goodbye, Robert.”
************
Aiden let himself into a safe house located above a kebab shop in Shadwell, and climbed the stairs cluttered with old paintings in golden frames and other household odds and sods left to rot against the damp, wallpapered walls.
Tonight, a whopping ten kilos of cocaine and forty-five kilos of ecstasy was to be dispatched from that safe house and flood the streets of London. It was a big night for Turnmills too, as several boxes of pills were to be distributed to the dealers that were assigned to the club.
Aiden had been invited to Turnmills by Frankie once he had finished up at the safe house, but he had refused. Clubbing was not his thing, and Frankie was starting to creep him out a bit. He wasn’t sure what it was about him exactly, but he got the impression that he was Frankie’s favourite employee, and although he would usually relish the fact that, once again, he had excelled in another of his ventures, there was something about Frankie that didn’t sit quite right with him, and so to be his favourite was not a pleasant experience.
Aiden wasn’t surprised that business was running smoothly with him in charge. The job was a piece of piss to him, and the only real downside was that he was getting home even later than he had before. Where he used to get home around 1am, he was lucky to have even got to a safe house by then, in most cases. Tonight, however, he had arrived relatively early, though he would have to remain there until at least 2am when, he hoped, the final distributions would be made and the house would be cleared of any illegal activity once more.
“What time is Marcellus getting here?” he asked his men as he entered the desolate living room and immediately located a small dining table where he could rack up a few lines.
“He’ll be here in ten minutes,” one man replied. That man was Carl Chovanek, a Czechoslovakian who had immigrated to the UK four years ago, looking for work. He had been introduced to Aiden at another of Frankie’s safe houses in Edgware a few months ago.
“Oh, Carl, Ricky’ll sort out an MR2 for you. Alex can get it turned around in a week, if you still want it?”
“Oh yes, thank you, Mr Foster.”
Aiden nodded and pulled out a bag of white powder from the inside of his suit jacket. He had been able to dress smartly today. All the gear inside the safe house had been delivered the previous day, so he was able to go straight to the house without being at the factory first. It was Frankie’s policy that no merchandise be held in a safe house for more than twenty-four hours, so it was usual practice for Aiden to see the produce leave the factory then follow the delivery trucks back to London. Due to the amount of merchandise being offloaded this time, however, it had been agreed to split the job over two separate days, with the merchandise stashed under the floor along with £300,000 cash in vacuum-sealed packages from sales the previous day.
Aiden racked up eight lines on a placemat that he found on the table. He snorted four in succession then offered a line each to Carl and the other three Czechoslovakians he had with him. Just as the men set back to work, Marcellus swaggered into the room sporting his usual faded Levis and leather bomber jacket. He was thirty-eight years old, of Italian descent, and the size of a brick shit-house, even bigg
er than Aiden, with a shiny bald head, thick unruly eyebrows and gleaming white teeth that he had whitened regularly at a private dental practice in Kensington.
“Aiden, my friend!” Marcellus’s voice boomed inside the small room. Aiden grinned at him. He had worked with Marcellus several times over the past six months and he liked him. Tonight, Marcellus was going to help him offload the gear. It was more than they usually offloaded in one night, so a helping hand was appreciated. Standing, Aiden stepped over and shook Marcellus’s beefy hand. “Long time, no see,” said Marcellus.
“We’ve been busy,” Aiden replied, gesturing to the ludicrous amount of drugs that littered the floor around him.
“I can see, son, I can see! Well, rack ’em up, Aiden, there’s a good lad!” Aiden smiled and sat back at the table. Marcellus joined him, and the others, initially distracted by the big man’s arrival, got on with the job of unpacking the boxes and setting aside the correct amount of packages for each dealer who would eventually come knocking to pick them up. Marcellus dropped his voice. “I need to talk to you,” he said, as Aiden began preparing the lines.
Aiden’s blue eyes peered up from under his thick eyebrows. Getting the impression that they required a bit of privacy, he turned to Carl. “Carl, take a break in the kitchen for five minutes, will you?” He flicked his head towards the kitchen door, just off the living room. Carl stood immediately and in his own language he ushered the others into the kitchen and closed the door.
Aiden snorted a line then pushed the placemat over to Marcellus. “What is it?” he sniffed.
“Don’t get all fucking uppity about it, but I thought you should know…”
Aiden frowned, “Know what?”
Marcellus regarded him for a long moment. The man looked really uneasy all of a sudden, and Aiden suddenly began to fear that Marcellus had something dreadful to tell him. Marcellus finally announced, “Frankie’s gay.”
Human Conditioning Page 33
