She stamped her little foot when he told her she was working tonight and Garry laughed harder and kissed her again. He sneaked a look at his watch and decided he could squeeze in a quick fuck before he went out for the day.
Once he entered her he was lost. She knew it was the only hold she had over him and used it shamelessly.
‘It’s good, eh, Gal?’
He groaned his pleasure and then shattered her dreams by whispering in her ear as he pulled himself out of her, ‘Like a fucking Dyson down there, girl.’ Slapping her rump, he roared, ‘Now I am bastard late, thanks to you!’
But eventually he finished off what she had started and that made her feel a tiny bit better.
Carol Parsons was really pleased to see the man at her front door. ‘Hello, Benny.’ The joy in her voice was more than evident. ‘Why didn’t you use your key?’
He’d moved her into his own place three months ago and Carol still couldn’t believe her luck.
‘I saw a strange car outside so I thought I’d better knock in case I was interrupting something.’
Carol’s face dropped.
‘Don’t be silly, Benny. It’s me brother Trevor’s mate, he dropped off a laptop for me.’
Benny raised his eyebrows.
‘A laptop? That’s a new one.’
Carol was nearly crying.
‘Please, Benny, not now.’
A tall blond boy with a handsome face and an athletic build walked out into the hall. Benny disliked him on sight.
‘All right, mate?’
Benny shook his head sadly.
‘ ‘‘All right, mate?’’ Is that all you can say when I come to my house and find you here with my bird?’
The boy went white with fright.
‘Hang on a minute . . .’
Carol had had enough.
‘Go home, Paul. Just go home, there’s no reasoning with him when he’s like this.’
Benny thought that his ears were deceiving him at her words and the way she said them.
‘What did you say?’
Paul walked down the hall. At the front door he turned back and said to Carol, ‘You sure you’ll be all right here on your own?’
The cattle prod caught him in the side and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Then Benny started to give him a kicking and Paul, still stunned, could not defend himself. Carol’s screams brought Abul inside the house. He dragged Benny away from the prone young man and forced him into the kitchen.
‘Stop it, Benny! Stop it, for fuck’s sake, before someone gets the filth.’
All that could be heard was Carol crying, her sobs loud and terrified. Abul was holding his friend to his chest, calming him with his words.
‘She’s a good girl, Carol. You know she is. You have to stop this jealousy or you’ll lose her. Now calm down and try and make some sense of all this.’
Benny was trembling with anger and suppressed rage.
‘I will fucking kill him and her. If I find out she’s been playing me I’ll chop her fucking head off . . .’
‘What the fuck you on, Ben? How much coke have you snorted this morning, eh? It’s making you worse than you are, and you are one paranoid fucker as it is. Now go in there and sort that girl out, she’s in a right state.’
Benny knew his friend was talking sense but the thought of Carol alone with another man was more than he could bear.
‘Why did she do it? She knows what I’m like . . .’
Abul took a deep breath before answering.
‘She’s a normal girl, Benny, and you can’t hide her from every man in the fucking world. Not even you can do that.’
Her pitiful sobs seemed to become audible to Benny for the first time. Pulling himself free he went out into the hallway. He took Carol into his arms and walked her gently to the bedroom.
‘I’m sorry, Cal. Fuck me, I am so sorry. I can’t help it . . . I love you so much, darling. You know how I am about you? I’m crazy for you. I will make it all right, I promise, I will make it all right.’
‘I can’t take any more, Benny. I’ve known Paul all me life, he’s Trevor’s best mate and goes out with my sister. What will I tell the family when they find out about all this? You know what me dad’s like, he’ll go bloody mad.’
It was on the tip of Benny’s tongue to say fuck her father and her family up hill and down dale, but he stopped himself. His innate cunning was taking over. Instead he said, ‘I’ll make sure Paul doesn’t say a word, OK? I will apologise to him, give him a drink and make sure he keeps it to himself. I promise it will be sorted.’
She looked into his handsome face and wondered how she could still love him like she did, knowing he was as mad as a hatter. But when they were together, just the two of them, he was different, he was kind and he was loving. Well, most of the time anyway.
‘Is he badly hurt, Ben?’
He knew he had won when she asked him that and hugged her to him tightly.
‘’Course not. He’s fine.’
He could hear Abul helping the boy up the hall, and prayed that he hadn’t hurt him too much.
‘Promise me that this will stop, Benny? Please, promise me that this will stop? Especially now with everything . . .’
‘We’ll have the best wedding of them all, you’ll see.’
‘It’s not just the wedding, Benny. I’m pregnant.’
She watched the joy suffusing his face and her heart lifted. But she had pictured herself telling him when they were happy together, lying in each other’s arms. Not after a bout of violence perpetrated in their own home.
‘A baby, Cal? A real one?’
She nodded.
‘A crying, screaming, real-life one.’
He hugged her tightly and then immediately loosed his grip on her.
‘Sorry, Cal, I didn’t mean to squeeze you like that.’
She smiled sadly.
‘I’m not going to break, Benny. But I can’t have this upset while I’m pregnant, OK? I can’t be frightened and upset like this any more . . .’
Her voice was trembling with tears and with one of his lightning changes of mood he swept her up and laid her gently on the king-size bed. Then, going out to the hallway, she heard him humbly apologising to Paul and asking him to keep it quiet. For some unknown reason his hearty voice made her feel worse, and as she looked round the large and beautiful bedroom it occurred to her that this luxury bungalow was nothing but a prison, one from which with the child now inside her she could never, ever escape.
‘No good will come of tonight, I’m telling you, Dennis.’
Marge’s voice was loud as usual and Dennis, her long-suffering husband, was already on autopilot.
‘Her mother is doing this for no other reason than to cause aggro. I know her of old.’
She bustled around her country pine kitchen with her usual determination, her startling make-up already in place at ten in the morning and her large bulk encased in a long flowing kaftan.
‘Come to bed, Marge, let’s have half an hour while the kids are out, eh?’
She laughed.
‘You can’t shut me up like that any more, the change has put paid to all that, darlin’. I would rather have a cup of tea. Me and Boy George, mate. About all we have got in common though, eh?’
Dennis laughed. He loved his feisty little wife, she was everything to him. Even her moaning was music to his ears. She was loyal and he adored her, even if she did tip the scales at sixteen and a half stone, and wore eye shadow that wouldn’t look out of place on her idol Boy George.
‘I love you, Marge.’
He meant it and it showed in his voice. She walked over to him and hugged him to her.
‘And I love you, you bald-headed old tosser.’
They kissed as they always did when together for more than five minutes.
‘Fifty, eh? Maura fifty. She don’t look it, though.’
‘No, she don’t, Den, but she feels it. I love her, you know that. But for all
her clothes and her money and her big houses, she ain’t got what we got: three nice kids and each other. I know her better than anyone and she would swap it all in the morning for what we’ve got.’
Dennis poured them both another cup of tea.
‘She’s got that Tommy now, though, he seems all right.’
Marge blew her lips out and made a very unladylike noise.
‘I don’t like him, Den. Don’t know why, I just don’t trust him. Funny, ain’t it? I should be over the moon she’s found someone else, and I would be if it was anyone but him.’
‘You and your feelings about people.’
She sipped her tea and sat at the scrubbed pine table that held centre-stage in her new kitchen.
‘I still feel guilty about Terry. If we hadn’t fixed her up with him things might have been very different . . .’
Her voice trailed off and Dennis grabbed her hand and kissed her fat fingers.
‘That was over thirty years ago.’
‘Oh, don’t remind me. How did this happen to us, Den? When did we get this old?’
He laughed.
‘I don’t know, girl. It just crept up on us. Have you wrapped Maura’s present?’
She nodded.
‘Of course. Hope she likes it.’
‘So do I, it cost enough.’
Marge flapped her hand at her husband.
‘I could hardly get her something from Marks and Spencer, could I?’
‘I suppose not. But Maura understands we ain’t got the money she’s got.’
Marge wasn’t listening, she was too busy looking at her eldest daughter and her Sikh husband getting their kids from the car.
Dennis followed his wife’s gaze and sighed.
‘They’ve been married over twenty years, Marge. You’re going to have to get used to it some time.’
‘I am used to it and I love them kids, you know I do. But the shit she takes hurts me and I know it hurts her.’
‘She’s an adult, Marge, and the kids are all growing up now. Leave her be and let them sort themselves out. You talk about bloody Sarah Ryan, you’re no better.’
Marge was saved from answering by her daughter’s appearance in her new kitchen.
‘Oh, Mum, it’s bleeding handsome.’
‘Do you like it, love? Sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’
Dennis was smiling as his wife put on her usual best behaviour for her son-in-law. She was a case was his Marge and he loved her with every ounce of his being.
Chapter Seven
Sarah looked at the table laden with food and hoped she had not worked all day for nothing. If Maura spurned her, Sarah didn’t know what she would do. Inside herself she knew that it was important she made her peace with her daughter before she went to meet her Maker. And she wondered if she could honestly meet up with her husband Benjamin Senior and look him in the eye if she left this earth estranged from his favourite child.
She looked around the kitchen. The house in Lancaster Road, Notting Hill, had been bought by Michael and now her daughter owned it. Maura had never once brought that fact up but Sarah knew that she lived as she did because her daughter decreed it. She had never held a grudge in that way towards her mother so maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for them. If she could only turn Maura from the error of her ways she could die in peace.
Sarah welcomed the thought of death. She wanted to see her husband and the sons who’d gone before, even Michael who she was convinced would be a good and kind man now he was in the Kingdom of Heaven. She could not believe that Our Gracious Lord would put her children anywhere else: hadn’t she prayed for the repose of their souls for years and years?
Maura was mellowing. Age did that to a body and Sarah had heard through Roy that she was largely handing the bent business over to Garry and Benny these days. That was what had given her the idea of trying to bring her daughter back to the Church, into the Catholic fold. And if she changed, maybe Benny would too.
This set her thinking about death once more. Her own death. Her grandson was her heart, God love him. He was her Michael all over again and she had to try making peace with Maura, for Benny’s sake. If she could do it, make Maura a daughter once more, a real daughter, then maybe she could get her on her side to show Benny the error of his ways. It was all very simple really. If only Sarah had thought of it years ago.
Happy now, she pottered around her kitchen cutting more sandwiches and making more cakes. Tonight would be a triumph for her, she was sure.
In fact, she was depending on it.
Benny got to Maura’s at just after twelve. She was thinking about Michael and seeing Benny was like seeing her brother before her. Until he spoke.
‘All right, Maws? You look like you seen a ghost.’
‘I feel like I have. You’re getting more and more like Mickey every day.’
Benny loved hearing this. Uncle Michael was his hero. He would sometimes seek out old lags who had worked with his dead uncle and would pump them for anecdotes about him. He wanted to be Michael so badly he even tried to affect some of his mannerisms.
He smiled at his aunt.
‘I aim to please. You look lovely, nothing like fifty.’
Maura closed her blue eyes in annoyance. If one more person mentioned the word fifty again she would do someone a damage.
‘Do you think so?’
Benny grinned.
‘I want to tell you something in private, Maws. Me and Carol already agreed we’re getting married. I’m announcing it tonight. She’s just told me she’s having a baby an’ all.’
Maura’s face lit up with pleasure.
‘This is wonderful news. Congratulations.’
Benny was embarrassed and it showed. Maura was surprised to see just how excited and shy he was about the news. He put the kettle on to stop himself from crying and as she saw the sheer jubilation in him she wondered if this might just be the making of him. Family loyalty was inherent in him; having a child might make him appreciate the benefits of continuity, help calm him down.
She hoped so.
‘It’s the best birthday present I could have been given. I am over the moon for you, Ben,’ she said encouragingly.
He placed the teapot on the table and Maura was amused once more at how finicky he was about such things. When he had served them both he sat opposite her and said seriously, ‘I am so jealous, Maura, that I’m ruining my relationship with Carol. But I can’t help it, you know? I feel inside like I’m going to explode with love for her, and if I even see her talk to someone else I want to kill them both – even though I know she wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I’m afraid that she’ll like them more than me, see?’
His eyes reflected genuine pain as he tried to explain his innermost feelings and Maura knew what it must have taken for him to come to her with this.
‘I worry that she’ll realise just how bad I really am. How ignorant and stupid in comparison to other blokes.’
Maura could have cried for her nephew. He was talking from the heart, and knowing how proud he was she marvelled at how hard it must have been for him to say all this to her. But he trusted her, respected her, and she knew it was a real compliment that he felt he could talk this way to her.
She stared into his troubled eyes and suddenly felt the urge to run away: from him and her family, from all of it. They came to her no matter what problems she might have of her own. She knew that because she had no children it was assumed she had no life. It had always been like that. She fought the urge to run.
Instead she said quietly, ‘What are you going to do then? Have you thought about this? Thought about how you can stop this behaviour?’
He nodded. After taking a sip of the scalding tea, he said with supreme honesty, ‘I was thinking of going on one of them anger management courses, what do you think?’
He sounded so earnest she wanted to cry. But she also wanted to laugh out loud. Benny on an anger management course? The Airfix King of Essex? T
he man who kept a cattle prod on his person day and night just in case someone upset him?
Yet she knew he was serious. That he wanted to change his life if only so he did not lose his Carol.
She laughed, the humour of it too much for her, and Benny laughed with her. Albeit nervously.
‘You don’t think it’s a good idea then?’
He was still grinning nervously and her heart went out to him.
‘It’s up to you, Benny. But I think you should say this to Carol, not to me. She is the one you should be talking to. She is the one carrying your child and who you need to reassure.’
He nodded and she knew he regretted telling her his innermost thoughts. It was always the way with deep feelings: people resented you once they’d exposed themselves to you. She supposed it was human nature.
‘Silly fucker, ain’t I? But I want this to be right, Maws. I lost it again this morning and put the fear of fuck up her. I can’t bear the thought of hurting her and I know, even while I’m ranting and raving, that what I am doing is wrong. On one level I know I am out of order but the rage takes over. Seems to obliterate everything else.’
He grabbed her hand tightly.
‘Help me, Maws. You’re the only person I would listen to, you know that.’
‘Michael was the same. Garry’s like it and all. You sound just like Mickey when you talk: he used to say the same things to me. All I can advise is that you talk to Carol, explain how you feel. It’s a form of self-hatred. You don’t feel good enough for her, do you?’
He shook his head, pleased she understood him, that he could unburden himself to her without feeling a fool even while he didn’t really want to hear what she was saying.
‘Well, you have to find a way to make yourself feel good enough for her. You have to use all your strength and force yourself to stop making scenes about things. Do you understand what I’m saying, Ben? You have to make yourself stop hurting her, and yourself, with your behaviour. You need to respect her and her right to talk to other people. She loves you, Benny, you can see that, surely? I mean, she must, some of the stunts you’ve pulled over the years and she’s still there beside you.’
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