Tainted Lives

by Mandasue Heller

  Carina was the reason that Vinnie was dreading the party tonight. It was at Glen’s house, and she was bound to be wearing as little as possible. There was no telling how indiscreet she’d be once she got started on the fizz, and he didn’t want to be in the country if she chose tonight to spill the beans.

  He couldn’t get out of going because only mutilation or death was reason enough to snub Glen Noble, so Vinnie had decided to try and put an end to the mess in the only way he knew how. He was going to get off with the first available woman he laid eyes on and rub her firmly in Carina’s sexy little face.

  It was a gamble, but it had to be done. Carina would either grass him up to Glen out of spite, or accept that they were done and lick her wounds in private until she got over it. Vinnie was banking on the latter option. Carina was persistent, but she was also proud – and greedy. She liked the lifestyle that being Glen’s woman afforded her: the money, the clothes, the fancy house and car. Once she’d weighed up how much she had to lose against the nothing that she had to gain by chasing Vinnie, he was sure that sense would prevail.

  Fastening the top button of his black silk shirt, Vinnie slipped his silver-grey suit jacket on and stepped back to admire himself in the mirror. He looked great and the frown that had been creasing his brow all day immediately smoothed out.

  Turning onto Glen’s drive fifteen minutes later, Vinnie drove into the parking bay to the left of the pillared double-front doors and found a space behind the several cars already parked there. He was glad he wasn’t the first to arrive – there was nothing cool about that, and he had a reputation to uphold.

  The house was ablaze with light, and the DJ whom Glen had hired was testing his equipment to the limit inside. Vinnie could feel the vibration of the bass thrumming up through his feet. It excited him. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all.

  Climbing out of the jeep he turned at the sound of a car, and waved when he saw Glen’s sleek BMW coming through the gates. Joe Fielding was driving, Al Goldman sitting beside him and dwarfing the spacious passenger seat. Glen’s oldest mates, they were the longest-serving members of the Noble firm – and two of the most dangerous. Between them, they had sorted more would-be gangsters than the Krays had probably ever met.

  Vinnie shook his head when he saw the joke-shop Santa standing on the dash, its coat whipping open every few seconds to reveal a huge, illuminated red knob.

  ‘Someone’s in the party mood,’ he said, opening the driver’s side door to let Joe out.

  ‘Can’t help it.’ Joe grinned like the big kid he always was at Christmas. ‘Ever since I seen me mother fucking the cunt when I was a nipper, I’ve had a thing about his cock.’

  ‘Sad bastard,’ Vinnie chuckled, shaking his hand.

  ‘He wants to grow up,’ Al grunted, coming around to join them. ‘Nearly got pulled ’cos of that.’

  ‘Aw, put a sock in it, for fuck’s sake,’ Joe moaned. ‘It’s supposed to be a laugh.’

  Carina came out onto the step in the tiniest slip of a sparkling silver dress that plunged far below her cleavage and barely reached the tops of her endless legs. Vinnie’s heart sank. She looked stunning – and she obviously knew it. She’d be on full bitch-heat, and impossible to ignore.

  ‘Jeezus,’ Joe hissed under his breath as they made their way towards her. ‘I wouldn’t let her out like that if I was Glen.’

  ‘Put your tongue away,’ Al growled.

  ‘I ain’t lusting,’ Joe grumbled. ‘I’m just saying she’s a bit fresh, that’s all.’

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ she said, kissing each of them as they entered.

  ‘And you,’ Joe said, shouting over the music.

  Closing the door, Carina twirled around to flash a major diamond and ruby ring at them.

  ‘Look what I got for Christmas. Glen hid it on the tree and it took ages to find! Isn’t it gorgeous?’

  ‘Lovely,’ Joe agreed, flicking a glance at the others. It had to have cost a small fortune. Glen was getting in a bit deep with this one.

  Al smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. Carina didn’t deserve a strand of tinsel, in his opinion.

  ‘What do you think, Vinnie?’ She thrust her hand under his nose.

  ‘Nice,’ he muttered, barely glancing at it. She was trying to make him jealous but it wasn’t going to work.

  ‘Doing well for yourself, ain’t you, girl?’ Joe commented slyly, hanging his overcoat up.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She turned on him, her expression darkening. He might be one of Glen’s best mates, but if he was taking the piss . . .

  ‘Just that you’ve done yourself proud, love,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Never seen Glen treat a bird so good. He must think you’re a bit special.’

  ‘That’s right, Joe, he does!’ She gave a small, tight smile. ‘And don’t you forget it.’

  ‘Who’s here?’ Vinnie said, strolling down the hall to avoid getting involved in the brewing argument. It was no secret that Joe, Al and the rest of the guys resented Carina for wrapping Glen’s balls up so tight. And judging by the stink of alcohol coming off her, it wouldn’t take too many of Joe’s sly digs to send her into a loose-lipped rage.

  Catching up in time to have to squeeze past Vinnie in the living-room doorway, Carina whispered, ‘Just about everyone, but I was only waiting for you, sexy.’

  Jerking away from her as Al and Joe came up behind, Vinnie went after a passing tray of wine. Snatching a glass, he slipped a hand into his pocket and wandered into the heart of the crowded room. It was mostly women in here, and there were quite a few unfamiliar faces – girls invited by wives and girlfriends as fodder for Glen’s unattached men. Catching the eye of an attractive blonde, he raised his glass and smiled at her.

  A sharp nudge in his ribs almost made him spill the drink.

  ‘What was that for?’ he demanded, turning to find Carina glaring up at him.

  ‘Stop eyeing up the bitches,’ she hissed, her eyes blazing. ‘It isn’t exactly polite, under the circumstances.’

  ‘Behave,’ he hissed back from one corner of a fake smile. ‘And lay off the juice if you’re gonna start any nonsense.’

  ‘Thanks for the concern,’ she drawled. ‘But if I wanted someone to monitor my alcohol intake, I’d have brought my dad!’

  ‘Just go and see to your guests,’ Vinnie muttered, still trying to appear unfazed in case anyone was watching.

  ‘I can’t.’ Carina smiled exaggeratedly at a passing couple. ‘You’re too gorgeous to leave on your own. I don’t want anyone getting their little claws into you.’

  The doorbell rang just then and as lady of the house she was forced to go and answer it. ‘Stay there,’ she ordered in a whisper. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’

  Exhaling wearily as Carina sashayed from the room, Vinnie made his escape and went into the dining room where most of the men were standing around the mile-long table chatting and laughing, the smoke from their assorted cigarettes, cigars and spliffs blanketing the room.

  This was the inner core of Glen’s business empire – the tried and trusted members, of which Joe was the oldest and Vinnie the youngest. There were many more in the sub-crews but this was the ‘family’, and it still gave him a kick to be on the inside.

  ‘Yo, Vinnie, why you on the piss-water when we’ve got the hard stuff?’ Freddie Peters shouted. A huge bruiser of a man with a long black beard that made him look like Rasputin, he was waving a bottle of Walkers in the air. ‘Feed the fucking fish with that shite and give us your glass, man. It’s Christmas!’

  Downing the wine, Vinnie handed the glass across and greeted everyone with handshakes and nods. He had worked his nuts off to gain the respect of these men, but he was under no illusions about just how fast they would take him down if he stepped out of line.

  ‘Where’s Glen?’ he asked, looking around for the boss.

  ‘Sorting something,’ Al told him cagily.

  Vinnie didn’t press for details.
Al was a paranoid fuck, who viewed curiosity as a sign of double-dealing. If he wanted you to know something, he’d tell you. If he didn’t, you kept it zipped.

  ‘Vinnie!’ Pam Noble bellowed from the midst of the men. ‘Get your arse over here, you handsome bastard, and give us a snog!’

  Grinning when he saw Glen’s mother sitting at the head of the table, Vinnie went to her and hugged her. Of all the women in the world, this was the only one he respected. An ex-hooker, she had worked her backside off to set Glen on the right track. Long since retired, she lived the life of Riley, flitting between Glen’s house and the bungalow he had bought her with his first ‘wage’. She was the true queen of the Noble clan, and Glen worshipped her, as did the rest of the family – not least Vinnie. She had treated him like one of her own from the start – giving Glen a roasting once in the early days for giving him a well-deserved slap. Vinnie had never forgotten her sticking her neck out for him – nor the lesson Glen had been teaching him at the time.

  ‘Sit down,’ she ordered now. ‘I want to get a proper look at you.’ Peering at him hard through a ton of cracked black eyeliner and silver shadow, she pursed her wrinkled, scarlet-painted lips. ‘You been eating right?’

  ‘Course.’ He patted his rock-hard stomach. ‘You know I like my food.’

  ‘I know you like mine. So why didn’t you turn up for that lasagne the other week? You begged me to make it, then never showed your face.’

  ‘Oh, shit! I forgot.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Reaching beneath the table, Pam squeezed Vinnie’s thigh. ‘I’ve been keeping it warm in the oven. You can come round for it later.’

  ‘Do us a favour! It’ll have a dick and two bollocks by now!’

  ‘Watch your gob, you. It’s called a cock and balls where I come from! Haven’t I learnt you nowt?’

  ‘More than you’ll ever know.’ Vinnie grinned, shaking his head. Pam was outrageous. Seventy years old, with the mouth of a twenty-year-old docker whore.

  ‘You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?’ she asked, taking a noisy slurp of whisky.

  ‘Yeah.’ He reached for the drink that Freddie had poured him. ‘But I’m not looking forward to it if you’re not cooking.’

  Drawing her head back, Pam gave him a wry smile. ‘Who says I’m not? You don’t seriously think I’m trusting that tart to make my Glen’s Christmas dinner, do you? She might rule the bedroom, but that kitchen’s mine!’

  ‘Nice one.’ Grinning broadly, Vinnie raised his glass. ‘Here’s to you wearing the crown for another seventy years.’

  ‘And I’d stick around that long out of sheer spite, if I could,’ she said, leaning towards him, ‘just to wipe the smirk off madam’s mush.

  ‘Subject of madams,’ she went on, sitting back. ‘What happened to that stuck-up bit I saw you with at The Honeypot the other week. You giving it one, or what?’

  ‘That’s all I ever give ’em,’ he quipped. ‘And that’s more than most of them deserve. What were you doing at a place like that anyhow, you dirty stop-out?’

  ‘We’re talking about you, not me,’ Pam scolded. ‘I know your brain’s in your boxers and you think you’ve got to shag everything that moves, but don’t you think it’s time you got yourself a steady?’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘The cleaning and ironing.’

  ‘I can do that myself.’

  ‘Yeah, but why wag your own tail when you can get a dog?’

  ‘I might like wagging it.’

  ‘I said wagging, not wanking.’

  ‘Pamela Noble!’ Drawing his head back, Vinnie gave her a mock-shocked look. ‘Don’t be rude.’

  ‘Aw, piss off,’ she cackled, slapping him playfully. ‘You know what I’m talking about. It ain’t decent, a man doing housework. Take her over there.’ She nodded towards Carina who was busy flashing her new ring in the living room. ‘She mightn’t be me first choice for Glen – nor even me last, truth be told. But she keeps the house nice, you’ve got to give her that. And she’s obviously doing something right upstairs, the grin he’s got on his face these days. So, how about it?’

  ‘How about what?’ Vinnie narrowed his eyes. ‘You propositioning me?’

  ‘In your dreams!’ Pam snorted. Rising to her feet then, she put her fists on her ample hips and yelled, ‘At last! What took you?’

  Turning, Vinnie saw that Glen and Carl Howard had arrived. Greeting everyone, Glen edged around the table to hug his mother.

  ‘Been looking after her?’ He slapped Vinnie on the back.

  ‘Course he has,’ Pam said, reaching up to pull her son’s face level so she could kiss him. ‘He’s a good lad, him – which is more than can be said for you. What you playing at, leaving me on me tod with all these randy blokes?’

  ‘Behave, mother.’ Glen pushed her gently back down into her seat. ‘They’ve got more to worry about than you.’

  ‘Hear how he talks to me?’ she complained, loving every second of it. ‘You lot talk to your mothers like that, do you?’

  ‘No, but we don’t socialize with ours.’ Joe leaned down to plant a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. ‘See how special we treat you.’

  Patting his hand, she said, ‘If you’re trying to get in me knickers, forget it – you’re way too old.’

  Laughing with the others, Joe said, ‘She slays me, she really fuckin’ does.’

  ‘Someone should,’ Pam muttered, shooting him a sly wink. ‘Put you out of your misery.’

  ‘A-hem!’

  Turning at the obvious interruption, they saw Carina posing in the doorway.

  ‘There she is.’ Glen held his arms out. ‘Come here, you sexy bitch.’

  Folding her arms, she pouted sulkily. ‘Thought you’d forgotten me.’

  ‘As if!’ Taking a long, thin package from his pocket, Glen held it behind his back and swaggered towards her. ‘Been a good girl, have you?’

  Smiling coyly now at the scent of another gift, Carina said, ‘I’m always good, babe. You know that.’

  Vinnie glanced at Pam and had to force himself not to laugh as she mimed poking a finger down her throat. Turning back when he heard Carina squeal with delight, he watched as she tore the paper from the box.

  ‘Oh my God!’ she cried, taking out a glittering bracelet. ‘It matches my ring! Look, everyone! Isn’t it gorgeous?’

  ‘Not as gorgeous as you, babe.’ Picking her up, Glen gave her a deep kiss, then plonked her back on her feet and slapped her backside, propelling her into the middle of a group of dancing women. ‘Oi, Dread,’ he yelled at the DJ. ‘Turn the music up. It’s supposed to be a bleedin’ party!’

  Going back to the table as the volume rocketed, Glen helped Pam to her feet and told her to go and keep her eye on the guests while he had a chat with the guys. Ushering her out with a bottle of whisky clutched in her hand, he closed the sliding doors and took his place at the table. Lighting a cigar, he waved the others to sit. The grin was gone now, a dark scowl in its place.

  Taking a seat at the far end, Vinnie lit a cigarette and leaned both elbows on the table, his expression attentive.

  There was a deadly silence around the table when Glen explained why he and Carl were late. They had been checking out a tip-off that Jimmy Rogers – head of the Stockport rock-production house – was in the process of selling them out to a London firm. Dex Lewis, the head of the firm, was plotting a takeover and was reportedly planning on sending a crew up in a couple of weeks to do hits on all the houses, using information bought from Jimmy as to when the coast would be clear.

  ‘Bastard!’ Freddie muttered, cracking his heavily scarred knuckles. ‘Where is he? I’ll kill the little shit!’

  ‘Too late,’ Carl told him quietly, folding his arms and rocking back on his seat. ‘He’s floating down the Medlock with his dick in his gob as we speak.’

  ‘Anyone else in on it?’ Joe demanded.

  All stares swivelled back to Glen.

  ‘No.’ He frowned darkly. ‘I made Jimmy tell m
e everything before I sorted him. He was on his own.’

  ‘Hand-biting little fuck,’ Freddie snarled, shaking his head in disgust. ‘What was his excuse?’

  ‘He reckoned Lewis had threatened to gut his missus.’ Glen’s voice was cold. ‘But it don’t matter who said what – there’s no reason good enough for shafting me and the next one who tries will get the same.’

  ‘What if he was lying?’ Joe said angrily. ‘We can’t let our lads pull a fast one. They’ve got to be dealt with.’

  ‘We can’t just take them all out,’ Glen told him. ‘Anyway, no one but us lot knows we’ve whacked Jimmy yet, and that’s the way it stays ’cos I don’t want Lewis alerted.’

  ‘He ain’t thick enough to think we’re gonna lay out the red carpet and hand him everything on a fucking plate,’ Al said. ‘He’ll be on the alert already.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Freddie agreed, nodding sagely. ‘And he ain’t small-time. It’ll be a bloodbath.’

  ‘His, not ours,’ Glen snapped, glaring at the big man. ‘You going arse-up or something, Fred? ’Cos if you are, you’d best open your trap while it’s still got a tongue in it.’

  Freddie held his gaze for a long, silent moment, then said, ‘You know me better than that, Glen. I’m just saying he ain’t easy.’

  ‘Well, thanks for that,’ Glen drawled sarcastically. ‘I can always count on you to keep up with current affairs, can’t I?’ He slammed his fist down hard on the table. ‘I know his fucking rep! What d’y’ think I do all day – walk about with me head up me arse? I know how he operates, just like I know how many men he’s got, what they carry, and what they can get their hands on in a hurry. Me and Carl are going over there tomorrow to have a quiet word – see if we can’t persuade him to stay on his own turf.’

  ‘And if he won’t?’ Joe asked, voicing what the others were thinking.

  ‘He will,’ Glen stated confidently. ‘If he don’t want a war.’

  ‘If he’s already putting feelers out, he probably thinks he can take us. That’s what he’ll be waiting for.’