by Caz Finlay
‘What do you fancy watching?’ Nick asked.
‘You choose,’ she replied and she watched as Nick flicked through the channels. She thought about Grace Carter: the women they had both become, and the women they had once been.
Leigh Moss had been nineteen years old when she’d applied for a job as a barmaid at The Blue Rooms. She’d been studying law at Liverpool University and had wanted a decent-paying job to help her keep on top of her bills. She had been raised in one of the roughest and poorest neighbourhoods in Manchester and her parents didn’t have any spare cash to help her out if she was ever in a jam. In fact, they’d been pretty annoyed that she’d decided to ‘flounce’ off to university instead of getting a job in the local supermarket or claiming the dole so she could start finally bringing some money into the house. She could still hear her mother’s words now – If it was good enough for me and your father, why do you think you’re any better than the rest of us round ’ere?
Leigh couldn’t wait to get out of the house she’d grown up in – she’d never felt comfortable enough in the place to call it home. She was raised by a mother who was a spiteful bully, seemed to resent Leigh’s youth and intelligence and belittled her every chance she got, and a father who was only interested in where his next six-pack of Skol was coming from.
That had all changed when Leigh had moved to Liverpool and she had finally been allowed opinions and friends of her own. One such friend had told her that she could make a few hundred quid in tips alone working at The Blue Rooms. So, she’d walked in there that evening, in her sexiest little black dress, to ask for a job behind the bar. On her way to the bar, she’d been stopped in her tracks by the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Then he’d smiled at her and she’d almost passed out with lust. Her heart still thumped in her chest when she remembered her first encounter with Nathan Conlon. He’d told her he was the club owner and twenty minutes later they were drinking Cristal champagne in one of the Club’s private booths.
Nathan Conlon had swept her off her feet, showering her with gifts and attention. She hadn’t cared at the time that he was married with a child, that was his wife’s problem and not hers. Besides, Nathan had told her that he didn’t love his wife any longer. She had trapped him in a marriage he didn’t want by getting pregnant. They never had sex. He didn’t love her, but it was complicated. Leigh shuddered inwardly as she thought about the naïve little girl she’d been back then. Nathan had promised her the world and she’d believed him. But after a few months her fantasy had started to turn into a nightmare and it had all happened so slowly that she hadn’t even realised it. Nathan had told her that her incredible body was wasted behind the bar and that she should become a dancer instead. But such was his charisma and charm, he’d sold it to her in a way that she had believed it was her own decision. He was a master manipulator. Soon, she was dancing five nights a week, had dropped out of university and was doing coke and ecstasy just to get through the day. But even then, she’d thought it was all worth it just to have Nathan on her arm. He’d strung her along for almost a year. Soon his attention had turned to the other dancers, but he always had a few crumbs for Leigh, or Candy Malone, as she had called herself in an attempt to disguise her identity, and she, like the pathetic excuse for a woman she’d become, would lap them up. All he had to do was smile at her, give her a few quid to buy herself something pretty and promise her that she was still his girl, and she forgot about it all. God, what a narcissistic prick he was.
So Candy had gone on hanging around, waiting for any scraps he would throw her and hoping that one day he would realise how much he loved her. But that had all changed when she’d found out she was pregnant. In her drug-addled brain, she had thought that the baby would be the thing that would make Nathan finally realise how much he loved her. How wrong she was. He had demanded that she get rid of it, and when she’d refused, he had promised her that he would leave his wife and son if she aborted their baby. He didn’t want any more children, he’d told her. He wanted a nice easy life – just the two of them. And he’d made it sound so plausible that she’d believed him. Then, after she told him she’d had aborted their child – her one and only chance to have a child, she’d later discover – he had laughed in her face and told her she was a deluded cow. She had sunk to her knees, sobbing and begging him to love her and he had pushed her away and told her that he had never loved her at all. He adored his wife and she, Candy, had only ever been a good fuck. That had all been bad enough, but then she had decided to confront his wife.
Leigh’s cheeks burned with shame and anger whenever she thought about that night – something she tried to do as little as possible.
It had been a freezing Christmas Eve when Candy had stormed into Grace and Nathan’s pub, The Rose and Crown, to tell everyone who cared to listen that she had been screwing Nathan for the past year. That she had aborted their baby because he had promised to leave his dried-up shrew of a wife for her. At the time, she had paid little attention to Grace’s reaction, but now she could recall it in great detail. How this beautiful and broken woman had stood there, in her own pub, while this crazed loon told all of her customers in graphic detail about the intimate details of her affair with her husband. Grace had looked just like Leigh had felt – defeated and completely worn down.
Nathan on the other hand had been incandescent with rage and had frog-marched her out of the pub. Then he had raped her, and tried to kill her, before Grace had intervened. Grace Carter had saved Leigh’s life and Leigh knew that she would always owe her for that. No matter how different their lives had become, Grace had done that for her. She had put her own life in danger for a woman she barely knew, and who she had just found out had been sleeping with her husband. And despite who she had turned into, that was the kind of woman Grace was.
Leigh could only ever wonder at the years of abuse and torment that Nathan had put Grace through. Grace had hinted at it afterwards, when the two women had become friends for a short time. They had been married young and he had controlled every aspect of Grace’s life. All the things he had ever done to Candy paled into insignificance compared to the years of torture that Grace had endured. Yet she had come out on the other side of it with compassion and humanity. Leigh often wondered whether she would have had the strength to do the same and she was ashamed to admit that she wasn’t sure if she would. At least, not back then. In her darkest times, Leigh still thought about what might have become of her if she hadn’t aborted Nathan’s child, or if he had left Grace for her. Would she have had the strength to endure? And if she had, would she have blood on her hands too? Would it be her, fighting to protect her child from going to prison? What was it her old nan used to say? There but for the grace of God go I. Leigh closed her eyes as she thought about how true that was.
Chapter Nine
Grace poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to Michael as he sat at their kitchen table with their one-year-old son Oscar, who was noisily enjoying his lunch.
‘Can you pick Belle up from school at three?’ she asked Michael. ‘I was hoping to go to the wine bar and go through some final invoices with Siobhan, and then I can hand it over to her.’
Michael raised an eyebrow at her and smiled.
‘What?’ she asked him.
‘You’re going to hand Carter’s over, are you? Just like that?’
Carter’s Wine Bar in Lytham was their newest venture and therefore Grace’s latest project. She’d been heavily involved from the outset. Choosing the new premises and almost every piece of décor, as well as choosing the menu. She loved the excitement of setting up a new business. Her soon to be ex-daughter-in-law Siobhan Davies was managing the place for them and Grace considered her a competent and trustworthy appointment.
Siobhan had been married to Jake for two years, and together they had a daughter, Isla, who was almost two years old. The previous year, just before Paul had been murdered, Siobhan had dropped the bombshell that Connor could be Isla’s father, and unders
tandably all hell had broken loose. It was only then that Grace had learned Jake was gay. It had caused a huge family rift and there was a time when Grace had wondered how they would all find their way back together again. Then Paul had been murdered and the tragedy of his death had bound them all together. Jake and Siobhan were in the process of divorcing, but Grace hadn’t been able to cut ties with her daughter-in-law entirely. The truth was she had come to love Siobhan, and the troubles within her and Jake’s marriage – of which there were many – were really none of Grace’s business. Siobhan had mended some fences with Connor and Jake too, but she was keen to make a fresh start for herself. That was when Grace had come up with the idea of Siobhan running the wine bar for them. It would mean she could start anew in Lytham, which wasn’t too far away from Liverpool, and Grace would have someone she knew and trusted managing the place.
‘Of course I’m going to hand it over,’ she said to Michael. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘It’s just that you have trouble handing anything over, Grace. You can’t help yourself. Some people might say you’re a control freak.’
‘Well, it’s still our wine bar,’ she said as she walked over to him. ‘Of course I’ll be involved. But I’ll step back from it. I promise.’
‘Good,’ he said with a smile as he put his free arm around her waist. ‘It will be nice to have you back at Sophia’s again.’
Grace nodded. ‘It will be nice to see more of everyone. I feel like I’ve neglected the place. But I know you and Sean are more than capable of handling the place without me.’ She planted a kiss on the top of his head and sat down at the table with him and Oscar. ‘You haven’t been at the Cartel offices for a few weeks. Is everything okay?’ she asked, knowing that since Paul’s murder Michael had distanced himself from their security business.
‘Everything’s fine,’ he replied. ‘It’s just nicer working at the restaurant, that’s all.’
‘Do you need me to do anything? I can work there for a while. Make sure everything is ticking over?’
‘Murf has got it all under control. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I was looking forward to having you around Sophia’s a little bit more.’
‘Okay,’ Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee. She sensed that this was all part of Michael’s long-term plan to have them take a back seat in the more dangerous aspects of their business and focus on their bars and restaurants.
‘I’ve asked Webster to brief us on what the police have got so far. He said he’ll meet us at the usual place at half past one, he can’t chance coming here with so much spotlight on the family. Is that okay?’
DI Tony Webster was a police officer whom Grace had known, and paid off, for many years. Along with a few of his colleagues, he was paid a considerable amount of money to look the other way wherever possible, and provide crucial information when needed. Michael hated Webster, and although Grace wasn’t his biggest fan, she had to admit that he sometimes had his uses.
Michael nodded. ‘I’ll ask my dad to watch Oscar for an hour.’
An hour later and Grace and Michael had dropped Oscar off with his grandparents, Pat and Sue, and were walking into a small café in Everton.
‘Do you actually think he’ll have anything worth telling us?’ Michael asked as he held the door open for Grace.
‘Who knows? But I like to remind him who he’s working for at times like these.’
Walking into the café, they spotted Webster sitting in the table furthest from the entrance, and they made their way over to him.
Webster nodded as they approached. ‘I got you both a coffee,’ he said indicating the mugs on the table.
‘Thanks,’ Grace said as she and Michael sat opposite him.
‘So, what can you tell us about the investigation?’ Michael asked as he picked up his mug and blew lightly onto the steaming liquid.
‘Not a lot, I’m afraid,’ Webster said as he sucked air through his teeth. ‘The DI in charge of the investigation is a right jobsworth. Got a stick so far up her arse it’s a wonder she can walk.’ He laughed at his own joke.
‘What evidence does she have on Jake and Connor?’ Grace asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he said with a shake of his head.
‘You’re fucking useless,’ Michael spat.
‘Look, you don’t understand the way this DI works. She’s a rottweiler, and she’s playing this one really close to her chest. She won’t let anyone not directly involved with the case within a sniff of it. I’m doing my best, but it’s not easy. And for some reason, DI Moss seems to have taken a bit of a dislike to me—’
‘I can’t think why,’ Michael interrupted.
‘So, there’s nothing of any relevance you can tell us?’ Grace asked with a sigh.
‘Only that Leigh Moss is on some sort of one-woman mission to clean the streets of Liverpool. I think she sees herself as some sort of fucking saviour. She’s not even from Liverpool, she’s from Manchester,’ he sneered, his disdain for his colleague blatantly obvious.
‘Is that why she’s arrested the boys? Has she got it in for them?’ Michael asked.
Webster nodded. ‘Them and every other gangster in Liverpool.’
Grace felt Michael bristle beside her and she placed a hand on his leg. ‘Do you know what her next move is?’
‘No. But she would have charged them if she could have. I swear this woman is like a dog with a bone. She won’t let this go. If she doesn’t get them for this, she’ll be looking for something else. You should tell the boys to be careful.’
‘Are they under surveillance?’ Grace asked.
‘Not yet. At least I don’t think so. I spoke to my mate in Intel. But, as I said, Moss is playing this one very close to her chest. If she’s got them under surveillance it’s all being kept top secret. But approving an operation like that would need approval from the top. You know the assistant Chief Con is a golf buddy of mine?’
Grace nodded. ‘Keep us posted on any developments, will you?’
Webster downed the last of his coffee. ‘Will do,’ he said before standing up and walking out of the café without a backwards glance.
‘That man has a face that’s just begging to be punched,’ Michael said as he drank his coffee.
Grace smiled at him in response.
‘This DI sounds like bad news though,’ he said.
‘Hmm,’ Grace agreed. She’d been wondering whether to tell Michael about her history with Leigh. Although she hated keeping secrets from him, she’d decided that telling him about that now would only cause more problems and she would have to explain why she hadn’t told him before. How could she possibly explain that even after everything that had happened, she felt some sort of loyalty to Leigh Moss? Grace had once made Leigh a promise that she would never reveal the secrets of her past, and Grace was a woman who kept her word. Besides, keeping that word, and the fact that Grace had once saved her life, meant that Leigh was indebted to Grace – whether she admitted that to herself or not. That was a more powerful tool in her arsenal and while Grace knew there was no way she could coerce Leigh into dropping the investigation into Billy’s murder, perhaps she might be able to convince her that someone else was responsible for the crime?
‘How about I take you out somewhere nice for dinner tonight?’ Michael asked, interrupting Grace’s thoughts. ‘We haven’t been out, just you and me, for ages.’
‘That would be lovely,’ Grace replied. ‘I’ll be back from seeing Siobhan about six. But would you mind if we went to Sophia’s? Steph told me she’s put some new dishes on the menu and I’m desperate to try that chocolate and hazelnut soufflé she’s been going on about. Please?’ she said with a smile and a squeeze of his arm.
‘We can go wherever you want,’ he said before leaning in to give her a kiss.
‘Great. It will give me a chance to catch up with Steph too. I haven’t seen her for a few weeks.’
Michael rolled his eyes. Steph was Sean’s daughter and their niece. At the age
of thirty, she was the eldest of the next generation of Carters and she and Grace had become good friends years earlier.
‘I’ll only speak to her for a few minutes. She’ll be working anyway.’ Grace laughed. ‘For the rest of the evening, I’ll be entirely yours.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he replied.
She placed her hand over his. They had both been so busy lately, it would be nice to spend some time alone together.
Chapter Ten
Grace walked through Carter’s and admired the tasteful décor. The place had opened a few weeks earlier and was already doing better than they’d hoped. It catered for an eclectic mix of customers, from the super-rich who had made the seaside town of Lytham their home to the holiday makers, young, old and everywhere in between – everyone was welcome and it worked. Grace had to admit that Siobhan Davies had played a big part in making the place a success. Although Siobhan was in the process of divorcing Jake, she would always be family to Grace. She was the mother of her beautiful granddaughter for a start, and despite the fact that less than a year earlier she had thrown a hand grenade into the Carter family by revealing that Connor could be Isla’s father, after the two of them had had a one-night stand, Grace couldn’t help but love the girl. She was feisty and intelligent and she didn’t take shit from anyone. She reminded Grace of herself when she was younger.
Siobhan had wanted to get away from Liverpool after the whole paternity issue had been resolved, and Grace couldn’t blame her – hadn’t she done the very same thing herself a few years earlier when she was pregnant with Belle? But Grace couldn’t bear to be too far away from Isla, and she had also needed someone she could trust to manage Carter’s, so offering Siobhan the job had seemed like the perfect solution. It meant that both Siobhan and Isla were only an hour’s drive from Liverpool, and Grace still got to see her granddaughter at least once a week.
