by KERRY BARNES
Of course, no one was in, because the busiest night at Ruby’s Palace was a Friday, and she had given Jack instructions for their father to take her place.
Even though the house was empty, Ruby was comforted. The smell and the warmth enveloped her and her magazines were still on the side and placed neatly. It was strange. Although she had only been away for a month, it was as if her life had moved on ten years. So much had changed in such a short space of time. It had been a real emotional rollercoaster. She was beginning to think she had completely lost the plot by falling in love so quickly, disowning her family, and then marrying a gypsy. She wanted to laugh out loud, but the reflection of her face in the mirror brought her back to reality. She was a Vincent, no mistaking that – and no matter how easy she thought it was to break away from her roots, somehow she always found her way back.
Just as she went to step into a nice hot bath, she heard a knocking on the door. Quickly, she put her dressing gown on. It had been hanging there on the back of the door where she had left it. She hurried down the stairs and, with a deep breath, opened the front door. To her amazement there was Ocean, leaning against the pillar. He looked Ruby up and down without a word. He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. Frozen to the spot, she never dreamt he would come after her.
“Are you all right, my little Ruby Palace? I was so worried when I came home to find you gone.”
Ruby’s eyes widened. The reason she had fallen in love so hastily with Ocean was his alluring twinkle. Her stomach knotted up. She wanted to be loved by him, to feel like a newlywed woman, and right now that expression on his face was telling her all those things.
“My Ruby, come home and let us work this out. We are, after all, married now, and we can’t be splitting up already.”
Ruby stood silently, trying to think of a good reason why she should give him another chance. He had made a complete mockery of their wedding and he had let slip that he wanted part of the club.
He tried to put his arms around her but she remained still, knowing that as soon as she fell into them she would be hooked again and that would be the end of it.
“I’m missing you,” he whispered.
His warm breath tickled her ears and a loose curl fell forward and brushed her cheek. A shiver went up her spine.
“Ocean, I thought you married me because you loved me.” Her words were soft and fragile. Ocean smiled, a mixture of satisfaction and a hidden laugh.
“I do love you, I love you so very much!” His accent had disappeared and the soft, well-spoken voice returned.
“I don’t like it when you’re with your friends. You change… you act different… nasty.”
Ocean nodded and he didn’t argue.
The O’Connells had given him a quick lecture. ‘Do whatever it takes to get your hands on that club.’ They weren’t as worried as him that she had refused to go to work. Ocean had done exactly as they said. He was too close now to throw in the towel. He hadn’t expected to find his home empty on his return and so it was fortunate his intuition, or luck of the Irish, had led him to her father’s.
“Are you sure you didn’t marry me for me money?” Ruby grinned, trying to turn it into a joke but letting him know she was concerned.
Ocean went along with it. “That’ll be it. I am after your dosh, your BMW, your club, and your beautiful, sexy body.”
She laughed, sucked in again by his charms.
The following week was spent with Ocean joined at the hip to Ruby. He worked hard at showing her how he could be the devoted husband. He wined and dined her, took her to the theatre, and indulged her on a romantic trip up the Thames. By the time Friday had arrived Ruby was hooked again, proud to be Ocean’s wife.
Chapter Nineteen
Kizzy
The summer evening was warmer than usual. The horses could be seen in the distance flicking their groomed tails. Kizzy sat on the steps of her caravan, sipping a mug of mint tea and soaking up the warm breeze and the sweet smell of carnations which grew in the pots planted last year by her aunt. They hadn’t done too well the last spring but right now they were out in full bloom, a blaze of colours.
Kizzy hoped that Ocean would visit soon. She had grown very fond of him again, and she looked forward to the day they would run off together – running off together was the traditional way of two gypsies being wed. Only, lately he had been behaving strangely, popping over for just an hour and then disappearing again. He hadn’t stayed over for a while, due to one reason or another. What puzzled her was the fact that when he did arrive he was always so full of loving words, bunches of flowers and promises of how he would make it all up to her. ‘Trust me when I tell you, we will be rich and you can have fields of horses. Just let me do what I have to do,’ he would say.
Kizzy wanted to trust him, as he was different now. He showed he loved her and not just to satisfy his sexual appetite – so much more than that. He genuinely admired her and whispered the sweetest, most meaningful words.
From the corner of her eye, Kizzy saw a group of women nattering outside old Mary Anne’s caravan. But when Kizzy turned to face them, they quickly looked away.
She usually kept herself to herself and for years now she had kept away from leering eyes and closed her ears to any gossip. Her past had taught her to do that, but they kept looking over towards her and it bothered her. They stood with their big chunky arms folded under their breasts, swaying as if they were rocking babies. Half of the old women had hardly any teeth and one huge smile turned them into Punch out of Punch and Judy. Kizzy recognised one of the younger women, Olivia, in her late thirties. By all accounts she had been seeing Billy O’Connell, off and on, over the past year. Not much of a looker herself, she was probably the best malt he could catch.
She had been present all those years ago when Kizzy was sent away from the London site to live with her aunt. She was one of the women who had snubbed Kizzy and was glad to see the back of her. She was jealous then and even more so now. Gypsy women did little with their lives except clean and look after their husbands. Looking at Kizzy, with her beauty and her brains, Olivia beamed with excitement to tell the other women what she had heard. It’s amazing what a man will tell you when you’re lying in bed and he’s itching to have his cock sucked.
Olivia couldn’t wait to get back to Kent and spread the news.
“And they fell in love overnight, got married… I mean, proper wed, and she is probably expecting her first chavi,” revealed Olivia.
The other women soaked up the gossip and laughed along with her.
“Serves the stuck up cow right!” smirked one of the women, with her head on the side and her finger wagging.
“Look at her, couldn’t keep a fella anyhow, loves horses too much, strange girl,” said another, and the bitching continued until old Mary Anne jumped up and had her say.
“Now, you lot listen to me. Our Kizzy never did you any harm, now leave her be… and you, Olivia, should be a real malt, and tell her what you know.”
No one dared argue with Mary. She was not a woman to mess with. Her sons were prize fighters and adored their mother. They were Romany travellers, as were most of the Kent site, and not a family to be reckoned with – especially her eldest son, Noah. Not many would raise their hand to him.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “I can’t do that. I promised my Billy boy that I would keep schtum.”
Mary took a step forward and nearly stood on Olivia’s toes.
Olivia felt the fear envelop her and quickly she stepped back, acknowledging Mary’s order. “All right, I’ll have a word.”
Mary looked Olivia up and down. “You make sure you are kind and gentle, my gal, or you’ll have me to answer to…” She took a deep breath before she went on. “I made a solemn promise to our Violet that I would look out for Kizzy, and I ain’t about to break my honour for no one!”
Olivia got the message loud and clear and knew she had to be careful. A wrong move and she would have the whole site on
her back. No one went against Mary… no one.
Kizzy watched Olivia approach nervously. The years had not been kind to her. Kizzy looked at the deep-set wrinkles from too much sun and the fat around her cheeks. Her front teeth were black and her eyebrows were thick and bushy.
“Kizzy, gal, can I ‘ave a word?”
Kizzy nodded and gestured for her to go into the caravan.
Olivia didn’t hesitate. The inside was fresh and clean, with not a speck of dust. Jealousy flowed through every vein and she wanted to laugh out loud.
“I just have to tell ya that Ocean…” She paused, looking for a reaction on Kizzy’s face.
But she remained still, with one eyebrow raised.
“Ocean has gone and got himself wed, proper wed, to some gorger gal.”
Kizzy stared in horror. Was she telling the truth or was this just a sick game?
“I swear it on me father’s life!” she went on.
Kizzy nodded slowly and, with the utmost composure, asked, “Who did he marry?”
Olivia, amazed by her calm demeanour, replied, “It’s that Vincent gal, the one that owns the club Ruby’s Palace!”
Again, Kizzy calmly tilted her head in acknowledgement and with that Olivia left. As soon as the door shut, Kizzy’s eyes filled and her body shook with pain. The hurt engulfed her and consumed her. This was déjà vu with a vengeance. All she could see in her mind was the scene all those years ago when Ocean had kicked that dirt in her face. But this was far worse. Ocean had seemed different this time. He had seemed so much in love with her and she with him. She sobbed for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes. Her feelings and love for Ocean had been thrown back in her face by this two-faced pikey who had had the audacity to fool her – twice.
She tried hard to work out why this was happening to her again. What had she done this time to deserve this cruel treatment; and what about the Vincents, the family, who were the root of the problem? The sad and heart-breaking thoughts went around and around in her head. Then, suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Kizzy had been lying on her bed and must have been crying for ages, because the room was almost in darkness as she went to the door.
Mary Anne stood there, holding two mugs of tea. Kizzy invited her in but decided to have a good look around to see no one else was in sight before she shut the door. However, the spiteful gossiping women had long gone.
She sat down, placing the hot drinks on the honeysuckle-printed coasters which were positioned neatly on the coffee table.
“’Ere, gal, sit with me and drink some tea.” Mary felt sadness for Kizzy. She could see her eyes were red and swollen but had admiration for the young woman to act so dignified.
“I know you want to know why, so I asked me boys what’s going on up in London!”
She looked up from her tea, eager to hear more.
“I knows your Ocean loves you, Kizzy gal. I might be old, but I ain’t blind.”
Kizzy laughed between snivels. “Well, I thought he did – I really believed him this time – can’t do though, can he? He went and got married.”
“Well, that is what I thought, but me boys tell me otherwise.”
Kizzy frowned.
“My Zack reckons that it’s a scam to get the club. The Vincents owe Ocean and the O’Connells, and they are after what is rightfully theirs!”
She couldn’t make sense of what Mary was saying. “How do the Vincents owe them?”
“My Zack boy, believes it goes back years, from when they threatened you, when they beat Billy, Farley and Levi. So they are collecting their dues,” she replied.
“But why did my Ocean have to marry her? He was supposed to run off with me!” The tears rolled down her already flushed cheeks.
“I know, my babe, he will, you’ll see, he will.” Mary held Kizzy’s hand.
“But Mary, how can he if he has married her? What woman would marry a man without… well, you know.”
Mary turned away, knowing exactly what Kizzy meant and she was right. Ocean, regardless of his intentions, must have had sex with the Vincent girl and that was that.
“I loved him all over again, Mare. He was the only man I ever had and I never stopped loving him. I just learned to live without him. But now it hurts even more, like you couldn’t imagine.”
Mary moved herself around to sit closer to Kizzy and held her in her arms.
“I know, my babe, I know,” she whispered, rocking her as if she were a child.
Mary missed having her daughter. She would have been the same age as Kizzy but drugs had consumed her. She died of an overdose. She hated even the word ‘drug’ and vowed to beat her sons near to death if they ever even thought about it. Noah was close to his little sister. He loved her cheeky rebel streak and had watched out for her. That was, until he got locked away for a few years. In that time she became addicted to hard core gear and died, leaving Noah racked with guilt and grief. He made a vow to kill the culprit who got her hooked and would never stop searching until he found them.
Soon after Mary left, Kizzy got her thoughts together and decided that this time she would not be the one running away. She would show the O’Connells, her so called family, and Ocean, her supposed boyfriend, that they shouldn’t have messed with her, not back then and not now.
Kizzy looked at herself in the mirror and held her head high. She was an independent woman with no need to chase after any mush. No man was going to look after her. She was more than capable of doing that herself. After all, she had grown up without a mother and even though she had been surrounded by men, most of them meant nothing to her and so she had learned to be alone. In fact, she was alone most of her life, in her heart that is. Apart from her uncle, who cared but was most of the time fairly cold, and of course his sister, her Aunt Violet who died, there really wasn’t any family as such. No one at the site really gave a shit if Kizzy was there or not.
As the night brought its dark clouds, and the cool air drifted in, Kizzy lay awake with her stomach caving in. Waves of sickness crept over her. Every time she closed her eyes she could see his face. The tiredness exaggerated her mind. She became confused and overwhelmed by her loss. It was as if he had died, yet she visualised him with his curls bouncing off his shoulders, dressed in a smart suit, the colour of his eyes. She saw him in her dreams: toasting his new bride, laughing and swaying to a slow song, their first dance. She saw her parading in a flowing white dress with Ocean looking on in admiration. Then her thoughts would go to that deep, forbidden place, the place which would haunt her on his wedding night. In her mind she sadistically faced the inevitable: her Ocean, making love to Ruby, surrounded by red petals with candles burning and him whispering ‘I love you’ in her ear.
She grieved for him – for what they’d had and what they had shared. All that remained now were the ghosts of their relationship, tormenting her.
*
As the sun appeared, Kizzy sat up and rubbed her sore limbs, which hadn’t rested either. She had tossed and turned, and, with tense muscles, she felt battered. The morning breeze was refreshing. She wanted more than anything to clear away the cobwebs and to remove the pain from her mind. She ruffled her long wavy hair, pulled on a cotton dress, and headed for the horses’ field. The dew which covered the grass squelched between her toes.
Kizzy’s new horse, Bailey, was by the gate watching her approach. A big cob, one of the biggest in the field, he came from a good breed but had been sold as wild. Not to be ridden though, only for breeding. As Kizzy tickled his nose he quivered his lip. She walked him over to the stool and he stopped just as she told him. She climbed onto him, clutching at his mane. Normally, Kizzy would not have saddled up a young, inexperienced horse, especially this one. However, this morning she felt no fear, her pain was so great that a fall from her horse would not have hurt half as much. Bailey stayed calm as she whispered words of comfort. There was something peaceful about him. Gently, she tapped his sides with her feet and slowly he moved on. The a
ir was fresh, the sky was blue and Kizzy thanked her horse for accommodating her. She took Bailey into a canter and then she galloped, with the wind rushing through her hair.
Two men setting off for work noticed Kizzy riding bareback on the wild horse and called for the others to come and see. Mary Anne heard the commotion and leapt from her caravan to look. A small crowd had gathered and watched in disbelief as Kizzy raced around the field on the back of the wild horse.
“Mary, we had better try to stop her. That horse is a fucker, it ain’t been broken in yet, she’ll get poggered,” said Jimmy Cottle, a middle-aged man, showing genuine concern for Kizzy.
“Well, it looks fairly broken in to me. Never would a beast like that let anyone ride it if it weren’t,” replied Mary, who was now admiring the guts of the girl.
“Mare, I’m telling you, that cob was sold to her as wild as they come. The old man, Driscoll, who practically gave that horse to Kizzy, says it can’t be trained. Says he is good for breeding but can’t be ridden!”
Kizzy was oblivious to the gathering crowd. Bailey wasn’t, he was showing off. She enjoyed the freedom, the rush of the wind on her face and the exhilarating feeling of galloping at tremendous speed. Bailey did not try to rear up or throw her off. There was a total balance of rhythm.
She was the only one who could handle him but her secret was time, space and consideration. A powerful horse, with a strong personality, it took a person like Kizzy, with a good understanding of horses, to tame him. He ran with grace and speed and was built for it.
