Family Betrayal

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Chris agreed.

  Danny wasn't going to stand for this. He was in charge now and the others had better get used to it. ‘I said Maurice is taking her, and that's that. They won't let all of us in, so we'll go to the hospital after we've had a scout around for George.’

  ‘Who gave you the right to tell us what to do?’ Bob snapped. ‘Dad is the head of this family, not you.’

  ‘Now listen, and this goes for all of you. I saw Dad, and believe me it's going to take a long time before he's fit to run things again. In the meantime, I'll be taking over and you'll take your orders from me.’

  Bob jumped up, his face red. ‘No way! Until Dad tells us different, we've all got an equal say.’

  Danny smiled thinly as he pulled out the document. ‘Dad had this drawn up some time ago. This ain't his will – I admit I ain't privy to that – but for the time being this piece of paper is all I need. As you'll see, it states that if Dad is in any way incapacitated and unable to run the business, as the eldest son, I'm to take over.’

  ‘How come we didn't know about it?’ Bob asked.

  Danny shrugged. ‘You know Dad. He always does things on a need-to-know basis.’

  ‘I bet you put the idea into his head.’ ‘Dad knows the score. In our game there are always risks and he saw the sense of my suggestion.’

  ‘It ain't fucking right. In fact, if you ask me, Dad was livid about your idea of using children in films and I ain't so sure he'd want you running things now.’

  ‘We had a chat and sorted it out. He agreed that as long as we stick to consensual sex, he's for it.’

  ‘And we're supposed to believe that! When did you have this so-called chat?’

  ‘Are you calling me a liar?’

  ‘Come on, both of you, calm down,’ Maurice urged as he scanned the document. ‘Bob, if this is what Dad wants, then so be it. He obviously thinks that Danny is the one to hold the business together, and anyway, it's only until he's on his feet again.’

  ‘Sod this,’ Chris spat. ‘I'm bushed. If we ain't doing anything until the morning, I'm going to bed. As for you running the business, Danny, it's fine with me.’

  Danny hid his satisfaction. George didn't know it, but by putting the old man out of action, he'd done him a big favour. He'd now be able to put all his plans into action without any resistance. In the meantime, he issued his instructions again. ‘Maurice, as I said, first thing in the morning I want you to run Mum to the hospital. Take Yvonne and Pet with you.’

  ‘Norma and Sue might want to go.’

  ‘Tough. Anyway, as I said before, they won't allow many visitors until Dad's out of intensive care.’

  ‘How come Yvonne's going then?’ Bob complained.

  Danny, sick of Bob's constant carping, exhaled loudly. ‘Mum's fond of Yvonne and she'll want her there.’

  Bob was about to protest again, but Maurice broke in, ‘Danny's right, Bob, and anyway, with it being Sunday, Norma and Sue will have the kids to sort out.’

  Danny stifled a yawn. He felt unusually tired, his eyes bleary with fatigue. ‘Right, that's it for now. I'll see you in the morning.’

  They all trooped out, and after closing the door behind them, Danny locked up. He went straight upstairs, undressed, but as he climbed in beside Yvonne, she stirred, saying, ‘It was ages before you turned up at the hospital tonight. Where were you?’

  ‘Doing a bit of business.’

  ‘Is there someone else, Danny? Are you playing away again?’

  ‘Of course not, you dozy mare.’

  ‘I'm sure I could smell perfume on your shirt this morning.’

  ‘For fuck's sake, Yvonne, leave it out. I don't need this. My dad's lying in a hospital bed, in a bad way, and I've got to take over the running of the business. There ain't another woman, so just shut up and let me get some kip.’

  Danny heard Yvonne huff, but ignored it. He turned over, his back towards her, and closed his eyes, thoughts drifting. Yes, he had a tart on the side, but that's all she was, a tart. Yvonne was all right in bed, but she didn't like anything a bit different or kinky, whereas Rita had no such qualms. Still, he'd have to be a bit more careful, and the daft cow would have to stop smothering herself in cheap perfume.

  Danny plumped up his pillow, his thoughts now turning to George. He'd always known that his brother was a mental case, yet even so, he'd never expected him to turn on the old man. If they found him, he'd have to be punished, but surely even George would have the sense to keep his head down.

  George never reached Linda's parents' house. Instead he was slumped on a bench on Clapham Common. He didn't know when his brain had shifted again, but as he pounded the pavement, intent on sorting his wife out, the awful truth had returned to hit him. He had killed his father!

  Hours had passed, and only the light from a distant lamp pierced the gloom. George had no idea what to do. He shivered. It was as though his life was over. He couldn't return to Drapers Alley. Ever! Yet it was all he knew. He would have to go away – far away from his brother's reach. He didn't care about Maurice or Bob, and he could even handle Chris if he had to. It was Danny he feared. Danny would kill him! Yet where could he go? Where would he be safe? Maybe he should turn himself in – maybe he should tell the police that he'd killed his father. They'd lock him up and in a cell he'd be out of Danny's reach. George groaned in despair. No, he couldn't do that. He'd get life for murder, and the thought of being locked in a cell for ever was unbearable.

  For a moment he considered leaving the country, but as his addled brain turned, George realised it wasn't possible. He didn't have any money, or a passport. But there was money in Drapers Alley – plenty of it. Maybe he could find a way to get into his mother's house without detection. Yet dare he risk it?

  Still he sat on the bench, his thoughts turning to Linda again. He'd made the biggest mistake in his life when he'd married her. It was her big mouth that had caused this and he felt like wringing her neck. No, don't be stupid, he told himself. He was in enough trouble. Fuck her! He never wanted to see her again and, as far as he was concerned, she and her unborn brat could rot in hell.

  Finally, at three in the morning, realising he had no choice, George rose to his feet. To get away he had to have money, and if he had any chance of taking the hoard, he'd have to do it now.

  George trudged home, but the closer he got to Drapers Alley, the more nervous he became. What if Danny was laying in wait?

  As he entered the alley, George kept close to the wall, peering at the houses for signs of life. All were in darkness. George had one thing in his favour. When he'd married Linda and moved into number five, he had kept the key to his father's house and it remained on his fob.

  Treading as softly as he could, he edged along the wall to number one, just about to put the key into the lock when he froze. His father was dead! Shit, what if he was laid out in the living room? In a cold sweat now, he remained rooted to the spot, but then a glimmer of reason returned. No, his dad wouldn't be laid out yet – it was too soon.

  Carefully turning the key, George held his breath as he opened the door. The living room was empty, in darkness, and he crossed the room with his arms outstretched. He made it without bumping into anything and now headed for the bathroom. George still couldn't see a thing and had no other choice but to turn on the light so, pulling the door almost closed, he flicked the switch. For a moment he paused, his ears pricked, but hearing nothing he moved to the window. It was set back in the wall, with a plant on the windowsill that George carefully removed. He had always been in awe of how clever his dad was, and now as he fumbled under the sill for the hidden catch he recalled his amazement when he'd first been shown this secret hiding place.

  His dad's idea had been ingenious, but now as George lifted the windowsill to pull out the long, metal box that fitted perfectly in the wall cavity, a sob escaped his lips. His dad was dead! He'd killed him! Oh, Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. Oh, Dad, I'm never gonna see you again. G
rief hit George with such force that his legs caved beneath him. He slumped on the floor, the metal box cradled in his arms as he rocked back and forth.

  George was immersed in an agony of grief, his back to the bathroom door and unaware that it had opened fully. Nor was he aware of anyone approaching him from behind until a hand grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. ‘Wh … what …’

  These were the last words George uttered as a knife sliced his throat, the cut deep. He opened his mouth, but could only gurgle as his blood spurted, splattering the walls. His head was pushed forward again, his chin now down as the rest of his life force drained onto his mother's immaculately polished lino.

  Only minutes later, George's killer removed his body, dumping it in a place that wasn't far away, but one where it was unlikely to be discovered. Later, it would be hidden, but there wasn't time now. The effort of carrying George had almost drained his killer, but there was still the bathroom to clean up and time was short.

  His killer hadn't anticipated that George's blood would spurt so far and it would take longer than expected to clean up, but every trace had to be removed. It seemed to take for ever, but finally it was done, and now there was only one thing left to do. The killer took the money, leaving the metal box wide open on the bathroom floor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joan was the first one up on Sunday morning. She hadn't expected to sleep, but surprisingly she'd gone off as soon as her head hit the pillow. Now, though, groggy but awake, her first thought was for her husband and all she wanted was to get to the hospital. Oh, Dan, Joan inwardly cried, please be all right. Please get better.

  Chris emerged as she came out of her bedroom, his face grey. ‘You look awful, Chris. Didn't you get any sleep?’

  ‘Yeah, I slept. What about you? Are you all right?’

  Joan forced a smile. Chris was a lovely lad, thoughtful and caring. He had always been her favourite, but ashamed of preferring one child over the others, she hid her feelings. ‘I'm anxious to get back to the hospital.’

  ‘Yeah, me too, but we should grab a bite to eat first. I'll give Pet a nudge while you make a pot of tea.’

  Joan went downstairs and in the kitchen she placed the kettle on the gas before hurrying to the bathroom. On the threshold, she paused, her eyes on a metal box on the floor. Where had that come from? Something else looked odd, out of place, and at first she couldn't comprehend what it was, but then saw that her plant was on the floor too. Joan looked at the window and frowned. The sill looked odd, raised, and crossing the room she investigated what looked like a concealed compartment.

  ‘Chris? Chris, come down here!’

  In moments Chris was beside her. ‘What's this?’ she asked, ‘and where did that metal box come from?’

  For a second Chris didn't react, but then, his voice high, he said, ‘Bloody hell, I'd best get Danny.’

  ‘Wait,’ Joan called, but Chris ignored her as he ran out.

  Joan stared down into the cavity, her eyes then returning to the metal box. In minutes Chris was back, Danny behind him, his hair dishevelled.

  ‘Mum, go back to the kitchen. Leave this to us,’ Danny ordered.

  ‘I've worked out where the box came from, but what was in it?’

  ‘It was nothing, Mum. Just paperwork to do with the business, that's all.’

  ‘But … but why was it hidden under the sill? And who took the papers?’

  ‘Mum, please, we don't know, but there's nothing to worry about, honest. Look, why don't you get yourself ready and Maurice will run you to the hospital?’

  Danny's eyes were veiled and Joan could sense that he was hiding something, but in truth, she didn't want to know. It was bound to be something illegal, something her husband and sons were mixed up in, and as usual she buried her head in the sand. All she wanted was to find out how Dan was so, leaving them to it, she hurried to get dressed.

  ‘That was quick thinking,’ Chris hissed as soon as his mother was out of sight. ‘Papers, that was a good one.’

  ‘It's gone, Chris. All the money. Dad's savings, our savings, the business capital, gone!’

  ‘Yeah, I can see that.’

  ‘Was there any sign of a break-in?’

  ‘No, I don't think so.’

  ‘That's a bit odd. Didn't you hear anything?’

  ‘Not a sound.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah, I'm sure. What are you trying to imply, Danny? Are you accusing me?’

  ‘No, but why are you so touchy?’

  ‘What do you expect? There was no sign of a forced entry so you must think it's an inside job.’

  ‘No, Chris, I think George did it and I should have seen this coming. I should have realised that George would need money to do a runner. We're well and truly in the shit now,’ Danny moaned as he closed the box and returned it to its hiding place. ‘Come on, the others will need to hear about this. You go to Bob's whilst I tell Maurice.’

  ‘What's going on?’ Pet asked as she came downstairs.

  ‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ Danny told her. ‘Just get yourself ready and go with Mum to the hospital.’

  ‘But—’

  Danny and Chris both ignored their sister as they left the house, one going to number three and one to number four. Both looked grim as they knocked on the doors, and with Maurice the first to answer, Danny stepped inside.

  ‘There was no need to knock me up. I'm getting ready,’ Maurice said.

  ‘Where's Norma?’

  ‘She's still in bed.’

  ‘Good. Now listen …’

  As Danny told Maurice what had happened, he saw his brother's eyes widen in shock.

  ‘What? It's all gone?’

  ‘That's what I said. The bastard took the lot.’

  ‘Blimey, I'm glad my savings are in a bank.’

  ‘Mine were in the box.’

  ‘Danny, I told you that money in the bank would have made a bit of interest.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, but I never got round to it.’

  ‘We had to hide the business capital, and now that it's gone we're in the shit. Bloody hell, Danny, we've got to get it back. We've got to find George.’

  ‘Don't you think I know that? Oh, we'll find him, and when we do …’ Danny left the sentence unfinished as he paced the small room. ‘Look, for now we'll carry on as planned. You take Mum, Yvonne and Pet to the hospital while the rest of us have a scout round.’

  Norma came downstairs, preventing further conversation.

  Danny left, but as soon as he walked into his own house, Yvonne said, ‘What did Chris want?’

  ‘Someone broke in last night and nicked Dad's papers,’ Danny lied.

  ‘Papers? What papers?’

  ‘Stuff to do with the business.’

  Yvonne frowned. ‘Why would anyone want them?’

  ‘I don't know, and I ain't got time to worry about it now. Mum will want to get to the hospital so you'd best get a move on.’

  Yvonne cocked her head to one side, her gaze intent. ‘Danny, what's really going on?’

  ‘Nothing! Now shut up about it and do as I said, get yourself ready.’

  Yvonne did as she was told whilst Danny's thoughts raced. With their funds gone, they would need to make money, and fast. Hard porn was the answer, but how were they supposed to get it up and running without capital? If they didn't find George, he'd have to find a way. With six families to support, Danny knew he had no choice.

  By ten o'clock, only two women remained in Drapers Alley. The events of last night had caused Sue and Norma to put their differences to one side, and with the kids playing outside, they sat gossiping at Norma's table.

  ‘Have you seen Ivy this morning?’ Sue asked.

  ‘Yes, I saw her pass by earlier.’

  ‘I was surprised that she waited up last night, and that she made them a chocolate drink. She's never had time for any of us, so why the switch?’

  ‘Dan's her uncle so she's bound to be worried,’ No
rma said.

  It was true that Ivy didn't have any time for them, but she didn't blame her. She was sickened by the Drapers too. As far as she was concerned, Maurice was the only decent one amongst them. She'd had enough and intended to push even harder to make him see sense. They had to get away from his family, from the alley, and the business. How he could allow Oliver to grow up in this environment was beyond her, but she wasn't going to allow her son to become tainted by this rotten family.

  ‘Bob's gone off with the others to look for George. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes if they find him.’

  ‘More violence – and what will it solve? Nothing. They should leave George to the police.’

  ‘Leave it out, love. The Drapers take care of their own business and always have. They won't want the rozzers involved.’

  ‘And what if Dan dies? That means that George has got away with murder.’

  ‘Norma, don't say that! Bob told me that Dan was stable when they left the hospital last night.’

  ‘Yes, but he's in intensive care and that means it's serious.’

  ‘Oh, Norma, I hope Dan makes it. Bob would fall apart if anything happened to his dad. He's going to the hospital later and I wish I was going with him. He'll need me if the worst happens.’

  ‘I doubt you'll be allowed to go. It seems Yvonne is the only daughter-in-law with that privilege.’

  ‘Yeah, stuck-up cow.’ Sue paused before saying, ‘It's Petula I feel sorry for. She worships her dad and he spoils her rotten. She'll be in bits if anything happens to him.’

  Norma wondered how Pet was coping. She was a nice girl, the only one of the Drapers she had any time for. Now, though, the girl had seen what her family was capable of, and her cosseted little world must be shattered. She doubted Pet would get much comfort from her mother. Joan was a cold fish, and from what she had seen last night, too wrapped up in her own world to worry about her daughter. ‘Yes, I feel sorry for Pet too. Now then, do you want another cup of tea?’

  ‘I won't say no,’ Sue replied. ‘I've got a stack of ironing to do, but sod it, I'm not in the mood for housework.’