by Roberta Kray
‘Bye,’ Tash said. ‘And good luck. Hope it all goes well.’
‘Thanks.’
Hannah didn’t say a word. She had her back turned and was angrily shovelling coffee into the mug.
Outside, the November air was sharp and cold. An icy wind was sweeping along the street, making the striped awnings of the stalls flap and snap. Living in Market Square had its disadvantages – the early, noisy start of the stallholders being one of them – but Ava was still happier here than she’d ever been in Alec’s luxury Barbican apartment. She liked the hustle and bustle, the colour, the smells and scents, the sheer life of it all.
For her, Kellston would always be home despite her mum’s decision to move away from London all those years ago. Ava had been ten then and less than overjoyed at having to leave her mates behind. But it was her mates that her mum had been worried about. Ava had started hanging around with a gang of girls from the Mansfield Estate, girls who smoked and swore, drank and thieved. With trouble never far away, and with Dad doing yet another stretch in the Scrubs, Sharon Gold had decided to up sticks and join her sister in Norwich.
Ava walked to the high street, crossed the road to Connolly’s and ordered a round of toast and a coffee to take away. While she waited she looked around at the people in the café, working men mostly who were drinking their strong morning brews while they flicked through the paper. Although she’d been born in Kellston and had spent her childhood here, now that she was back she wasn’t sure if she completely fitted in. Her time away had altered her, made her different, so that she wasn’t quite a local, but not quite a stranger either.
Ava paid the guy behind the counter, thanked him, picked up the brown carrier bag and left the café. She strolled along to Violet Road where she always left the car. It was hard to find a space around Market Square even when the market wasn’t in full swing. The small, pale yellow Kia Picanto was where she’d left it, parked alongside a row of neat two-up, two-down terraced houses. The secondhand car was scratched and dented but the engine still ran smoothly. She climbed inside, placed the bag on the passenger seat and set off for the Streets’.
On her way, Ava passed the car lot that her uncle had once owned. She frowned as she thought about him. It still made her sad that her parents had split and she held Ted partly responsible. She knew that her dad had free will and that he’d never had to do anything that his brother requested, but Ted was older and extremely persuasive. Although not an out-and-out villain, Ted Gold had always been involved in one dodgy deal or another, but somehow, when things had gone wrong, it was always her dad who’d been nabbed and ended up doing time. He should have learned his lesson but he never had and in the end her mum, sick of being a prison widow, had lost patience and decided to call it a day.
Despite the heavy commuter traffic, it didn’t take long to get to the south side of Kellston. Gradually the long rows of terraces gave way to larger, detached and more expensive houses. This was where the moneyed residents of the East End gathered, their homes vigorously protected by high walls and banks of security cameras. It was ironic, she thought, that this exclusive enclave, designed specifically to keep out the local lowlifes, was home to one of the most powerful criminal families of the district.
Ava cruised along the pleasant tree-lined streets until she came to Walpole Close. Slowing as she arrived at number eight, she peered through the tall wrought-iron gates at the house beyond. She gave a low whistle as she took in its splendour. Whoever said crime didn’t pay hadn’t seen this place. It was a grand white Colonial-style building, three storeys high with pretty shuttered windows. The central front door was sheltered by a portico and there was a long drive with a front garden laid to lawn. She passed on by and then drove to the corner where she pulled up and parked.
As she ate her toast and drank her coffee, Ava wondered if her mother might have been more forgiving of her father had he been less of a failure in his criminal exploits. While Uncle Ted’s business had grown and prospered, her dad’s prospects had steadily declined. He’d drifted into petty crime and more often than not ended up in the slammer.
Ava had decided long ago that she would never be beholden to any man. She had watched her mum struggle to feed and clothe her, to pay the rent and the bills while her father had been banged up. She knew it was important to be self-sufficient, to be able to make your own money and not rely on anyone else. Which brought her smartly back to what she was doing here today.
Ava glanced at her watch and saw that it was ten to ten. She wiped the crumbs from her lap, finished her coffee and put the debris on the back seat. She checked her face in the rear-view mirror, tidied her hair and reapplied her lipstick. Then, when she was as prepared as she’d ever be, she took a deep breath, started the engine and headed back to the Street residence.
She wasn’t nervous about working for Chris Street – she’d grown up surrounded by villains of one sort or another – but she was anxious to make a good impression. Any mistakes today and she would end up back on the minicabs. She knew she only had one chance and she had to make the most of it.
4
Ava pulled up the car in front of the locked electric gates and sat there with the engine idling. She waited for a while, peering through the windscreen at the two security cameras, unsure as to whether anyone knew she was there or not. Perhaps she needed to go and press the intercom. She slipped off her seat belt and opened the door, but just as she got one foot on the ground the gates slid smoothly apart. Quickly, she pulled her foot back, closed the door and headed up the driveway.
Ava swung the car into a space to the left of the house at the same time as Chris Street came out of the front door. He was smartly dressed, suited and booted and wearing a dark overcoat, but his face fell as his gaze roamed over the outside of the Kia.
‘I’m not late, am I?’ she said as she got out.
‘No,’ he said shortly, staring hard at the rear of the car with all its dents and scratches.
‘Oh, that wasn’t down to me,’ she said, following his gaze. ‘It was like that when I got it.’
Chris’s eyes held an expression of ill-disguised scepticism. His fingers tightened around the keys to the Mercedes.
‘Really,’ she insisted, holding out her hand. ‘You don’t need to worry.’
He hesitated, but only for a second. ‘Okay,’ he said, passing them over. ‘But just be careful, huh?’
Ava gave a nod. ‘I’m always careful.’ Before he could change his mind, she walked across to the other side of the drive where the sleek midnight blue Mercedes was parked. As she climbed inside, she drank in the smell of the expensive leather seats. Much as she loved her little Kia – it was great for zipping around town – she’d missed driving the luxury cars for which Harmer’s was renowned.
Chris got in beside her. He was in the process of pulling his seat belt across when the front door to the house opened again.
‘Let’s go,’ Chris said.
Ava could see Danny Street walking towards them. ‘I think your brother wants you.’
‘My brother always wants something.’ His voice grew sharper. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Ava started the engine and prepared to move off, but Danny wasn’t having any of it. He strolled straight in front of the car, placed his hands on the bonnet and smirked at them.
Chris gave a hiss. ‘For fuck’s sake.’
Ava looked at Danny. He had the same dark hair, the same prominent cheekbones as his older brother, but none of his charm or geniality. As a kid she’d been scared of Danny. She’d sensed something off, something weird about him, and she had the same shivery feeling now.
Chris opened the window. ‘Get out of the way. Shift it! What are you playing at?’
Danny went around to the passenger side of the car, still grinning. He leaned down and looked across his brother. ‘So,’ he said softly. ‘You must be Ava.’
She smiled, trying not to show her discomfort. ‘Ava Gold. Hi.’
&n
bsp; ‘What do you want?’ Chris asked. ‘I’m in a hurry, yeah, so make it snappy.’
But Danny didn’t seem to be in a snappy frame of mind. ‘What’s the problem, bruv? I’m just being friendly.’
‘Well go and be friendly someplace else. I’ve got work to do.’
Danny winked at Ava. ‘He’s been keeping you under wraps, hun. Ain’t said a word until we forced it out of him yesterday. Can’t figure out what the big secret is. You from round here then?’
‘Originally,’ she said.
‘So how long have you two been —’
‘We’re going,’ said Chris, quickly interrupting. He closed the window, turned to Ava and said brusquely, ‘Can we just get the hell out of here?’
She didn’t need asking twice. ‘Sure.’
Danny stood back, his hands on his hips. As Ava carefully swung the car round, an ethereal-looking girl, dressed in a flimsy white dress, appeared in the doorway of the house. She was young, late teens, with long fair hair flowing down her back. Although undoubtedly pretty, she had a wasted quality about her. Her face was a little too gaunt and there were purplish shadows under her eyes. More heroin chic, Ava thought, than fallen angel.
‘Jesus,’ Chris muttered under his breath.
Ava wasn’t sure if he was referring to his brother or the girl. She was curious about the latter but sensed that now was not the time to start asking questions. ‘Where to?’ she enquired brightly, hoping that his mood would improve once they were away from the house.
‘The Hope and Anchor. Do you know where that is?’
‘Yes, I know it.’ The pub was about fifty yards from the Fox and was owned by the Streets. She had only been in there once, but that had been enough. It was a meeting place for the local villains, and strangers weren’t made welcome.
At the end of the drive, Chris opened the gates with the remote control. Ava slid the Mercedes smoothly out on to the road. As she drove back towards the centre of Kellston she was overly aware of her passenger’s scrutiny and of the way he visibly flinched every time she changed gear or put on the brakes. She could feel how tense he was, but wasn’t sure how much of that was down to her driving and how much to the exchange that had just taken place with his brother.
Ava was still thinking about Danny as they hit the high street and came to a halt at the queue waiting at the traffic lights by the station. The guy had a reputation and it wasn’t a nice one. Hopefully, she’d be able to keep out of his way. Chris, on the other hand, didn’t bother her. He might be a villain, but he wasn’t a psycho. Despite his silence – he hadn’t said a word since they’d left Walpole Close – she still felt comfortable sitting beside him.
It was only as the lights changed and they shifted forward that he finally spoke again. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘Just the one. A brother. Well, a half-brother.’
‘And do you get on?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘pretty much. But he’s a lot younger than me. He’s called Jason. He’s only thirteen.’ She paused before adding, ‘And I don’t have to live with him.’
Chris’s mouth slid into a smile. ‘Yeah, well that makes a difference.’
‘He’d probably drive me crazy if I did.’ She turned right at the lights, went past the Fox and travelled on up Station Road until she came to the Hope and Anchor. She pulled in to the kerb and switched off the engine. ‘You ever thought about moving out?’
Chris made a noise in the back of his throat. ‘Only a couple of hundred times a day. But someone has to keep the peace. Danny and my dad don’t exactly… Well, let’s just say that they know how to wind each other up.’ He opened the car door, got out and leaned down. ‘I’ll be fifteen minutes. Will you be okay?’
Ava lifted her eyebrows. ‘Would you ask that if I was a man?’
He grinned, shut the door and walked over to the pub. It was closed but his knock was quickly answered by a middle-aged man with thinning salt-and-pepper hair and a heavy paunch. She watched as Chris went inside and then she settled back to wait. Driving jobs often involved a lot of hanging about but she was used to it.
Ava took her iPod out of her bag, stuck in the earphones and started listening to Florence and the Machine. She gazed through the windscreen, the glass splattered by rain, and looked at the people going by. She knew why Chris had asked if she would be okay: they were parked only twenty yards from Albert Road, the traditional haunt of the local toms. The dealers always gathered there too, along with the pimps and the junkies. It was, however, way too early for the girls to be out and there wasn’t much other activity either.
Five minutes after Chris had gone inside, a smart black Bentley drew up behind the Mercedes. The driver, wearing a traditional chauffeur’s uniform, got out of the car and walked round to the rear door. He opened an umbrella and held it over the man as he climbed out. The man, in his early fifties, was tall and impeccably groomed with short grey cropped hair. Ava studied him in her rear-view mirror. She reckoned, from his features, that he might be Russian or East European.
The chauffeur delivered the guy to the pub and even knocked on the door for him. Once the man had disappeared inside, the driver strolled back to the Bentley. As he passed the Mercedes, he threw Ava a disdainful glance, but didn’t acknowledge her further. They might both be drivers but he clearly considered himself a class above – Mr Chauffeur, she figured, thought of himself as more Knightsbridge than Kellston.
Ava looked across towards the pub again. It didn’t take a genius to work out that a deal was going down. And if the Streets were involved, it was bound to be dodgy. Still, that was none of her business. See no evil, hear no evil. It was, she knew, a slightly skewed moral perspective but she couldn’t afford too many principles at the moment.
5
It was closer to half an hour before Chris Street emerged again. He was with the older guy and the two of them walked over to the Bentley where they shook hands and separated. Chris got back into the Mercedes with a pleased expression on his face. Ava knew better than to ask how it had gone; anything he volunteered to tell her was fine but it didn’t do to probe.
‘Where to now, boss?’ she asked.
‘That shop on the high street, the one with all the stuffed animals.’
‘Beast?’ she said, surprised by the request.
‘Yeah, that’s the one.’
Ava pulled the car into the traffic. Chris seemed more relaxed about her driving now or maybe his mind was on other things. She knew the place he was talking about. When she was a kid, it had been the local undertaker’s, a family business established for generations. But some bad stuff had happened there, a gruesome murder that had finished off the business for good. A few years ago the premises had been taken over by a taxidermist. Personally, she couldn’t see the attraction but apparently it was back in fashion and all the rage. ‘You like that kind of thing?’
‘It’s not for me. It’s a present for a friend.’
Ava gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Not a girlfriend, I hope. I think they usually prefer perfume and flowers.’
‘No, not a girlfriend. A business associate.’
She wondered if it was for the man she’d just seen him with. ‘Good,’ she said, smiling. ‘You could kill a relationship with a gift like that.’
It only took them a couple of minutes to get there and fortunately there was a parking space not too far away. The sky had darkened and the rain was coming down hard, bouncing off the pavement and swirling into the gutters. As Chris opened the passenger door, he turned to her and said, ‘Would you mind coming with me? A second opinion would be handy.’
‘I don’t know anything about stuffed animals.’
‘Join the club,’ he said.
Ava gave a shrug. ‘Okay.’ She had never been inside before and, despite a faint distaste, was curious to see what it was like.
They ran from the car to the gallery, sloshing through the puddles. Chris opened the door and then stood aside to let her enter. Al
most as soon as she’d crossed the threshold, Ava was struck by the surreal quality of the place. Animals of all varieties – stoats and weasels, foxes, mice, rats, reptiles, bats, birds and fish – were displayed in various poses around the room.
For a while they drifted from cabinet to cabinet, examining the contents. There was a hushed, almost reverential air about Beast. Although they weren’t alone – there were at least half a dozen other customers in there – everyone spoke in whispers. Ava felt as though she’d stumbled upon a bizarre animal cemetery – except all the bodies were above ground. Eyes followed her wherever she went. She knew that they were glass and yet they still felt uncomfortably real.
