by Martina Cole
But this time it was about their son. That Aiden could believe for one minute that his boy would ever even think of doing anything detrimental to his own father was fucking mental. He adored his father but, for the first time in his life, he was not doing what his father wanted him to do. She was pleased that he was taking the initiative for once. This was exactly what Aiden Junior needed. He was being given the opportunity to make his own way and make his own mark. Why his own father couldn’t see that this was a fabulous opportunity was beyond her.
‘Look, Reeva, I am sorting it, all right? So can we just drop the subject please?’
Reeva was annoyed but she chose not to take the conversation any further. All she had really wanted was for Jade to know that her son Aiden was on his own as far as she was concerned. He was being a prize fool and everyone in the family was aware of that. But, as usual, they were depending on Jade to sort it out. Reeva was confident that Jade would not let Aiden harm their son; at least that was what she was counting on because she was more than aware of what her eldest son was capable of. That was why she was so worried.
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen
Eugene and Porrick were waiting for Patsy in a spieler that Patsy had purchased a few years earlier. The previous owner had owed Patsy a big favour, and he had happily signed the place over. In all honesty he had been glad to get shot of it as he was finding it harder and harder to police the fucking place. A particularly audacious murder on the premises − a bloody shooting late one night over a game of fucking cards − had been the final straw.
Patsy had hushed it up, and the man had given over the ownership without a backward glance. It was a different world these days, and he knew that he was too old to be arsed with any of it. It was an illegal drinking club in Romford and, even though the powers-that-be were aware of its existence, they knew better than to cause any aggravation. It was a lucrative little earner and, since Patsy had taken over the ownership, the clientele had suddenly found their manners.
But today, in the early afternoon, it was empty except for a barmaid and the manager. The manager was a young black guy from Mile End who was quick with figures and even quicker with his fists. Garry Coleman was a much-respected man, married to his childhood sweetheart, and the father of three young sons under five. Not exactly a conversationalist but, as Patsy always pointed out, you couldn’t have everything. He did what was required, and he did it with the minimum of fuss. Even when he ejected people, he always did it in such a way that they could come back after a proper apology and the gift of a drink to soothe his anger.
The barmaid was a transsexual called Martine. She looked better than most page-three girls when in full drag − and could take down a drunken rugby player with one punch, as had been proved on more than one occasion. No one with an ounce of intelligence would ever deliberately set out to upset her; even in high heels, she was still more agile than her more masculine opponents. Basically the fucker could fight and, if pushed, fought to the death.
Porrick and Martine got on like the proverbial house on fire as they often saw each other socially. Eugene liked everyone because that was his nature so, as they sat together having a drink while they waited for Patsy, the talk was about local gossip. Martine, as always, was full of mirth; she had a seriously funny sense of humour and, as she regaled them with the story of the previous night’s excitement, they were laughing so much that they didn’t notice Aiden walk inside the bar area.
The doorman was an old bruiser who had really had his day but, as a daytime doorman, he was more than sufficient. He was a big lump with what Reeva always referred to as six hairs and a nit − meaning he was almost bald − and a smile like a mouthful of dog ends. He had never managed the oral-hygiene thing; it was always best when discussing anything with him to stand downwind. But he had his creds and Patsy was quite happy to let the man get himself an earn and also a bit of respect. He deserved it; he had been a bare-knuckle boxer in his youth and he had acquitted himself well, but his serious fighting days were long over.
‘Something fucking funny, I assume?’
Aiden looked and sounded menacing. This was Aiden on a bad day. Looking around him at the tattered old club, Aiden wondered if they’d still bring in any punters if it wasn’t for the fact that it was safe place to do a deal and lay low. And, of course, if you got drunk there was always someone to help you get home.
Martine shrugged and, standing up, said in her high voice, which she knew annoyed the likes of Aiden, ‘Can I get you a drink, darling? Your usual Scotch and water?’
Aiden nodded and took a seat beside his brothers. ‘This is a fucking shithole during the daytime. It needs a fucking makeover. A roof on a skip would look better!’
Eugene shook his head in denial. ‘That’s part of the charm. Not everyone wants a fucking state-of-the-art drinking hole, Aiden, with inflated prices for a fucking show-off clientele. I think Patsy was right to keep this as it is.’
Aiden knew that somewhere in that sentence he had just been put in his place. He decided to overlook the insult. He needed everyone onside at this moment in time. There was definite skulduggery afoot, and he wanted it all sorted quick sharp.
Garry excused himself politely and made himself busy stocking up the bar, all the while keeping a beady eye on the proceedings going on at the table. He had never entirely trusted Aiden O’Hara − not that he would ever say that, of course. He wasn’t about to cause himself any unnecessary aggravation. But he had observed him over the years and he had come to the conclusion that he was more than a few fucking cakes short of a birthday party. He was a nutbag, and Garry didn’t care how hard or how clever he might be, he didn’t trust him and he never would. He was never rude, but he made a point of avoiding him if possible. Aiden O’Hara had too short a fuse for his liking.
Porrick had to admire Martine, she was a feisty fucker. Martine placed a large drink in front of Aiden and said, as camp as possible, ‘Your drink, Aiden, just as you like it!’
Aiden looked at Martine, who was consequently fluttering her eyelashes, and he actually did laugh at the humour. He took a deep draught of his whisky and nodded happily as he said, ‘You might be a poof, Martine, but you do pour a decent drink, love.’
Martine took that as her cue to leave and she smiled as she went behind the bar and automatically started to help get it ready for the evening’s punters. Like Garry, she had no interest in being in Aiden O’Hara’s company.
Aiden O’Hara might be respected, revered even in some circles. He was a hard man and he earned a great deal not just for himself but for everyone on his payroll − no one would ever dispute that. But the one thing that Aiden had never been and never would be was liked. He was tolerated by most people as a necessary evil and he wasn’t a man that the majority of people would cross without a fucking army of some kind behind them. He was a violent fucker, who didn’t need that much encouragement to find fault or take umbrage when the mood was on him.
From his position behind the bar, Garry could see that Porrick and Eugene were both uncomfortable, and he wondered at a family who were so close, and yet so far apart.
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen
Marvin Hendry was in a serious quandary. He was in a position that he would not wish on his worst enemy − it was a fucking problem for him and the people close to him. He had been left with one final chance to try and make everything right − not just for his daughter but for everyone else concerned in this fucking stupidity.
Clearly Aiden O’Hara was not thrilled about his son’s upcoming nuptials. Well, that was too fucking bad. Marvin could swallow that, though he would never forget the insult. Where business was concerned, it wasn’t unusual to have to deal with people that you would not necessarily choose as your bosom buddies. Business was a different thing altogether. You might socialise with these people as part of the process when making a deal, but that was part of the game. The business they were involved in meant that you often had to accept some very stra
nge bedfellows. It was the nature of that particular beast. What Marvin could not overlook was the fact that Aiden O’Hara, who he had always had such a good relationship with, could be so fucking cold at a time like this. He had known that Aiden O’Hara was not the most stable-minded person on the planet but that he actually had the nerve to voice his disapproval of his only son’s relationship with his daughter, Loretta, well, it just confounded him. The man had to know that, if push ever came to shove, he didn’t stand a fucking chance against Marvin. He might think he had London by the balls, but he wasn’t dealing with London Faces now. He was now dealing with people who were known to terrify the American judicial system, who lived in a country that was devoid of anything even resembling laws if you didn’t choose to obey them. He would be dealing with Colombians, as well as Jamaicans. No one could oppose them if they didn’t want them to.
Loretta was his favourite child out of all his offspring; as the only girl, she needed his protection far more than his sons ever would. She was a loving and trusting girl who he had adored from the moment he had looked into her eyes. His fear had always been that she would be swept off her feet by a Bob Marley lookalike. But she had impressed him with her choice of mate; Aiden Junior was shrewd and he was respectful − and nothing like the fucking psychopath that had sired him. He was ready to learn and, unlike his father, would happily admit his failings and ask the relevant questions needed so he could learn the business properly, thereby ensuring that he would eventually go into said business with a good working knowledge behind him. It was what any intelligent man would do − he would make sure that he learned from the best so he could deliver his best when the time came. Marvin would trust the O’Hara boy with his Loretta. The man was exemplary in every way that mattered. He had only ever heard good things about him, and he had never had cause to question the boy’s intentions where his girl was concerned.
Yet now he was hearing from all different sources that the boy’s father, Aiden, the fucking strangest Face in London, was against the match and had given his boy an ultimatum. How could he dare to even insinuate that his daughter wasn’t good enough for his son? It couldn’t be her colour, surely, as his own brothers were black: one was Jamaican and one was an African. It was like the man had lost his mind or, as he had been told this day, it was because he didn’t like his son getting the offer of being a part of the Colombian cartel. Because that is what his new son-in-law would become, of course: a valued member of that cartel, treated as an important member of the family. If what Marvin had been told was true, then Aiden’s father’s real problem was with the fact that his only son would eventually become far more powerful than him. Knowing the man as he did, Marvin realised that it would be Aiden’s greatest fear, something he would never allow to happen. And Marvin suspected if there wasn’t a plan in play already, Aiden would soon be up to skulduggery. Marvin had to think long and hard about his next steps. Whatever happened, though, he would only do what he believed was in the best interests of everybody concerned, please or offend as the case may be.
Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
Patsy knew there was no chance his nephew was going to give her up. He wondered how he could sweeten the pill for his older brother, even though there was no way he could make this sound any fucking easier than it was.
Aiden was drunk. They were still in Patsy’s bar in Romford and he had made sure that none of the usual punters gained access. Porrick and Eugene were on standby to disabuse any who felt the urge to be vocal about not being given admittance. The whole family were coming in support of Aiden Junior, well aware of the choice Aiden had given his son to leave Loretta and his unborn child.
Aiden Junior turned up early with his mum. He sat down beside his father and it was clear he knew that his dad was over the moon he was there with him, believing his decision made. Aiden was grabbing his son by his neck, and roughhousing with him, ostensibly play fighting even though everyone watching could see that he was deliberately using his strength against his son, and was physically hurting him. It was a warning and everyone, including Aiden Junior, was aware of that.
‘I’ve always believed, my son, that when it comes down to it, you choose your family. You are one of us and don’t you ever fucking forget that.’
Aiden was acting like his boy’s appearance in the bar at tonight’s family gathering was enough to prove to everyone that his boy would never dare to go against his wishes. That his only son would always follow his father’s advice and his opinions, no matter what he might think himself.
Aiden Junior had turned up in the hope he could reason with his father and prove to him that marrying Loretta and working with Marvin was not a betrayal of his own family. If anything, he was doing it to make things better for them all – just as his father had done for so many years. It hurt more than he thought possible that his father didn’t know him at all. How could his father believe that he would be willing to desert the mother of his child without a thought?
He had always been aware that his parents were not like his friends’ parents, but he had never really cared because he had spent the greatest part of his childhood with his Nanny Reeva and his Aunt Agnes. He had worked out from a young age that his mum, as much as she loved him, needed to spend most of her time looking after his dad. He had never resented it because he had been in a house full of people who cared about him and, as he had grown up, he had preferred being with his uncles and his nanny to being with his parents. Things were so complicated and there was always drama around them when they were together. He loved them, but his mother had always made it clear that his dad was number one in the household. He had understood the importance of that all his life. His dad was a loose cannon − he had seen his father when he had one of his fucking tantrums on many occasions, and watched as his mother had talked him down. There was drama at Reeva’s house too but it was a different kind of drama − and after it was over, Reeva would always feel remorse. His father, on the other hand, could never admit that he was wrong.
Now, as he listened to him pontificating to everyone around him, Aiden Junior wondered how his own father could expect him to just roll over. He was never going to do that, and the fact that his dad thought that he might really did offend him. His father seemed convinced he was betraying the family. Well, Aiden Junior felt exactly the same about his father’s actions. And he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Patsy made sure that there was another round of drinks delivered to the table. He squeezed his mum’s shoulder and Reeva put her hand over his and squeezed it back. Porrick and Eugene were both on edge, Jade was doing her best to talk everyone down, especially Aiden, who was not only drunk but also happened to have a good bit of Charlie up his nose into the bargain, and Reeva and Tony were both trying to keep the mood light. Everyone around the table was doing the very best that they could to help them.
Even through his drunken and drugged haze, it dawned on Aiden that his son was trying to tell him that he didn’t want to walk away from that fucking leech Loretta who had deliberately set out to fucking trap him. He wasn’t unsympathetic; he knew that love could hurt so much more than a fucking good hiding, but he had been confident that his boy was intelligent enough to see the error of his ways. He couldn’t be expected to just stand back and watch his son being fucking manipulated by a fucking half chat, with nothing of any real value to offer him. She was about as fucking useful as a nun at a bikers’ gang bang.
Jade was quiet, watching what was going on, and she appreciated that the boys were making sure that the atmosphere in the club was good. Aiden stood up unsteadily and Jade immediately jumped up to help him. She motioned to Patsy, who reluctantly got up to join her, and together they held him upright. He was slurring his words and his eyes were like piss holes in the snow. Aiden was completely out of his nut, but he was absolutely determined to make his son do what he expected − what he demanded of him.
‘I want to make a toast to my handsome son, my namesake, who tonight
is making an important decision about his life, as you all know. And I am pleased to report that he will make the right one.’
Porrick stood up and walked away from the table with Eugene close behind him. Reeva looked at Tony and he shrugged; lighting a joint, he passed it to her quickly. Patsy grabbed his older brother by the arm and, with Jade’s help, they dragged him through to the small office behind the kitchen.
Aiden sat down in the chair offered to him with relief. He knew that he was not the full ten bob tonight. But he had every reason to celebrate: his son had seen the logic of his argument. His son had seen that he was right − that family was what really mattered. Your real family.
He looked at Jade and Patsy and felt anger bubbling inside him. Who the fuck did these two think they were? They were both looking down on him for some reason, like they thought that he was a fucking cunt of some sort.
‘Jade, is there a reason you’ve brought me in here? Am I about to be fucking given a line of good cocaine, or are you two just trying to annoy me?’
Jade knelt in front of him and, taking his hands in hers, she said brokenly, ‘Listen to me, Aiden. You have to listen to me, my darling. You can’t really believe that our boy would ever walk away from his girl. We brought him up better than that. He loves her and they have a baby on the way. If you don’t try to get your head around this, if you don’t even pretend that you can somehow accept what is going to happen, I can’t help you any more. I can’t make this go away, Aiden. Not this time. Marvin Hendry is not a mug. He won’t sit back and let you get away with it like anyone else would. This is about more than money or business. This is about his daughter and our son. Why the fuck can’t you see that? What is wrong with you, Aiden? How can you be jealous of your own fucking child?’
