Toxic
Page 17
Alfie pushed Vaughn hard. ‘Fuck you. I ain’t Franny’s keeper, she did this to me as well. How do you think that feels?’
‘Right now, Alfie, I don’t care how it feels.’
‘No, of course you don’t, just like you don’t want to remember it was actually you who got us into this mess, because if you hadn’t sounded off, saying me name, nobody would know to come looking. So, the blame sits right at your doorstep. Now get out of me way.’
Vaughn shook his head. ‘I told you, not until you tell me where you’re going … I don’t trust you, it’s as simple as that.’
‘What? What do you think I’m going to do, hey? You think Franny is waiting for me with a swag bag of money? Or maybe you think that I’m going to call Eddie? Cut a deal with him?’
‘No, actually, but what I do think though, is you’ll do something stupid. Have some Alfie Jennings game plan going on, some big idea that ends up fucking us all over.’
With as much hostility as he could muster, Alfie snarled back. ‘If you must know I’m going to call Sandra. I ain’t heard from her, and I’m going to check she’s alright.’
‘No, you ain’t. You can do that here.’
Alfie burst into laughter. ‘I thought for a minute you said “No I ain’t”.’
‘That’s exactly what I said.’
‘Listen Vaughn, I never listened to me old man, I never listened to me teachers, I never listened to the old bill or the judge, so I reckon it’s unlikely that I’m going to start listening to you. So save your breath.’
‘Give me your phone, Alf.’
Alfie laughed scornfully. ‘You’ve lost it mate, but I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen. In a moment, I’m going to walk out of this door, cop some sea air and then phone me sister to make sure she’s alright. And you, my son, ain’t going to do fuck all about it.’
Alfie turned to walk away but was held back by Vaughn grabbing his jacket.
‘Get off me!’
‘I told you, you ain’t going nowhere. For starters we’re waiting on a call from one of Frankie’s contacts and I’m telling you, you ain’t going to fuck that up.’
‘And I told you, you ain’t me dad.’
Then, without hesitation and with expert speed, Alfie channelled his anger and threw a right hook, catching Vaughn square on his mouth, splitting his lip. He followed it through with a hard body shot to the side of Vaughn’s ribs.
Seeing Vaughn coming back at him, Alfie quickly ducked, curving his strong body out of the way to avoid the counterattack. He moved to the side, powering a left punch to Vaughn’s jaw, causing Vaughn to stumble backwards. And with that, Alfie Jennings walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Outside the air was brisk. Cold and bracing. The sea rolled and smashed and crashed against the wall, and the dark sky merged with the darkness of the ocean. Pulling out his phone, Alfie looked around. The promenade was empty save the seagulls eating the remains of the day’s rubbish.
He blew out, watching his breath form into small clouds, not knowing if he was doing the right thing, but not wanting to stop himself either.
He pressed call.
‘Hello?’
‘Bree, it’s me. I got your messages, I thought we should meet.’
47
Bree stood with Johnny, looking down at Ryan in the hospital bed. He was asleep and to Bree he looked so helpless, so pale, so white; as white as the starched pillowcase he lay on.
A computer monitor sat on the wall behind him, connected to a multitude of coloured wires that ran over the bed, attaching to Ryan’s bruised and battered chest and hands. A red wire ran under the bandage wrapped round his head, whilst a central line remained fixed into place on the side of his neck.
She was tired, scared, and for the last seventy-two hours, Ryan’s life had hung in the balance. Gently squeezing his hand, Bree smiled sadly. ‘Hey, sleepy, it’s me.’
Ryan’s eyes began to flicker open. He gave a small smile back as he glanced from Bree to his brother. His lips were dry and cracked as he took off his oxygen mask. He spoke in a husky whisper as he reached out his hand, placing it gently on Bree’s large, pregnant stomach. ‘I know it’s you, Bree. I crashed my banger car, I didn’t lose my memory. It’s good to see you though, thanks for bringing her, Johnny. How’s my baby doing?’
She smiled. ‘Kicking a lot. What happened, Ryan? Can you remember the accident at all?’
Ryan glanced at Johnny, who stood next to Bree, his eyes dark and cold. Ryan shook his head, his eyes closing from the effort of talking. ‘No, it’s just a blank … Johnny, can you give us a minute.’
Without saying a word, Johnny nodded and walked out of the room. Ryan watched his brother going to stand on the other side of the door with Ma, who was staring coldly through the glass.
He turned to Bree, staring at her for a moment. ‘Bree, I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
‘Listen to me, we got to leave as soon as I’m out of here. We got to make sure we do what we said we’d do. It’s not safe for you to be back at home. You can’t trust Ma. There are some things you don’t know about. Things I should’ve told you before.’
‘Ryan, stop! You’re frightening me!… And anyway, it’s fine now, you know that. It’s not like how it used to be. Ma’s been brilliant.’
There was a relentless hissing from the oxygen mask strapped loosely to Ryan’s face, now pushed to the side of his cheek.
‘No, Bree, you don’t understand. This is what she does. I’ve seen it before. Don’t trust, Ma. You don’t know her like I do … I need you to promise me something.’
‘Anything.’
‘I want you to go to a doctor.’
Bree shook her head fiercely. ‘I don’t need to, Ma’s been great. She knows everything any doctor would know. Probably more.’
‘Bree, sweetheart, she doesn’t. I keep telling ya, it’s been a long time since she was any kind of nurse, not everything she says is right. We’ll never be free if we stay with her. Why won’t you just listen, babe?’
Sighing, Bree looked around at the large syringes filled with various medications, each clipped to its own mechanical pump. The drugs streamed down plastic lines into Ryan’s veins with screens displaying such names as Noradrenaline, Fentanyl, Keppra, all of which meant nothing to Bree.
‘I don’t want to argue with you Ryan, but you know how I feel about going to the doctors. You know I’m worried about what they’ll think of me. Even Ma agrees I should stay away.’
The sound of the glass door opening made them both stop talking. Bree smiled as Ma walked in, her heavy thighs rubbing together. Her breathing hard as her chest fought against the heavy rolls of fat.
‘Bree, you look tired. I think you better go and get a cup of tea. Johnny will take you down to the canteen.’
As Bree left, Ma turned the silver dial to close the door and window blinds. ‘There you go, a bit of privacy.’
Ryan’s gaze darted to the door.
‘Hey son, don’t look so worried. You and me are just going to have a little chat.’
‘I’m tired, I need to rest.’
Ma smiled nastily. ‘You’re in bed, ain’t you?’
‘What’s this about?’
‘It’s about Bree. I want you to stop putting things in her head. Before the accident I heard you talking, planning on leaving. Where would you go, son? Where would you go without me?’
‘You ain’t doing this to me anymore. No more mind games.’
‘It ain’t a mind game, I just want to know that you ain’t thinking of leaving when you get out of here. Can’t a mother care? You and Bree, well you got a home with me.’
Ryan’s face screwed up. ‘I should’ve left you a long time ago, got on with me life, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do now. No more, Ma, no more. You broke me a long time ago and it took meeting Bree to help put me back together again.’
‘Son, don’t do this. You’re making a mistak
e.’
‘Goodbye, Ma. I want you to go now. There’s nothing you can do or say to me anymore. It’s over.’ Ryan reached for the nurse’s bell.
Ma nodded sadly. ‘You’re right, it is.’
Quickly she grabbed for the bell, knocking it out of Ryan’s hand. She squeezed his face brutally hard. ‘You never learn, do you?’
He scraped at her hands, trying to prise her fingers off him. Terror in his eyes. ‘You’re hurting me, get off! Ma! Get off!’
Stretching over, Ma reached for the Noradrenaline syringe, easily detaching it from its pump.
‘What are you doing, Ma!’
Ma slammed her hand over Ryan’s mouth as she bent down and kissed his head. ‘I love you son, but I told you before, nobody ever leaves Ma …’
Then Ma expertly pushed the plunger hard, quickly forcing an unnoticeable volume yet potent dose of the powerful, fast-acting drug straight into Ryan’s veins.
A fierce wave of heat rushed through Ryan’s body and as he tried to call out his eyes rolled back into his head before he quickly lost consciousness.
Hurriedly, Ma put the syringe back in its place, pressing the green resume button on the pump. Reaching up to the monitor, she glanced at the door before clicking the two-minute suspend alarm tab on the screen. She stood back and watched the numbers on the monitors start to change. His blood pressure climbing higher and higher. 240 … 280 … 340. And then calmly watched as Ryan’s oxygen levels began to fall, his body beginning to convulse and tremor.
As the two-minute counter reached zero, the alarms burst back into life and taking a breath, Ma walked to the door, stepping out into the corridor. ‘Help! Nurse! Help! Somebody, please help!’
Within moments, medical staff began running into the room. A tall, thin doctor, seeing immediately what was happening, shouted his instructions as Ma stood and watched.
‘He’s fitting! Give him five of diazepam. Stop the Noradrenaline quickly, we need to get his pressure down otherwise he’ll have a cerebral bleed.’
As the ICU team continued to work on Ryan, Bree came around the corner with Johnny. She froze. Her eyes wide and terrified, darting from Ryan to Ma. Her voice barely audible as fear set in.
‘Oh my God, what happened? What happened, Ma?’
Glancing at Johnny, Ma took Bree into her arms. ‘Shhh, Bree, don’t get yourself upset, we need to get you home. This ain’t a place for you in your condition.’
‘Is he going to die? Is he?’
‘No, Bree, he ain’t going to die, but the damage has already been done.’
48
Bree stepped into her grey Mercedes 4x4, turning the engine on. She sat staring ahead, mesmerised by the motion of the rain sensor windscreen wipers, which gave out a dull screech as the blades dragged back and forth against the glass.
It was cold and she was tired, and the thought of Alfie played on her mind, weighing heavy on her heart, causing her chest to feel tight and her breath to become short. She thought about his kindness. His care. His love. How he’d protected her from the harshness of her life as much as he could. And all done from the goodness of his heart. He had saved her. Picked her up when she was young and broken, and now she was going to repay him by taking his hand once more, leading him straight into a trap.
‘Bree, you better get a move on! Don’t fuck this up.’ Johnny banged on the side of the car, making her jump.
She watched as he walked across to the far side of the mobile site, disappearing for a moment before reappearing a few seconds later with Ryan who was smiling and completely unaware.
Through the rain-dotted windscreen she saw him grin, then watched as Johnny put his index finger to Ryan’s throat, slashing it across his neck.
Johnny shouted to her. ‘Make it count, Bree. Make it count. Time’s running out, babe. Don’t make me have to do it to him.’
Reversing out of the caravan site, Bree kept her eyes on Ryan, blowing him a hidden kiss, smiling and waving until she couldn’t see him anymore.
As soon as she’d turned the corner, Bree pulled up by the side of the lane and cried. She banged her palms against the steering wheel over and over again as the tears ran down her face and the car filled up with her desperate screams.
49
Sandra Styler bent over, pushing her ear against the white wooden bedroom door, attempting to listen to Eddie speak on the phone. She screwed up her face as she concentrated on his words.
‘… I ain’t having a go. I’m just saying it’s taking some time … I get that Johnny of course I do, and all I mean is that if we don’t move quickly … Yeah, okay … Then how long does Bree think it’ll take?’
Hearing the name Bree, Sandra jolted up, banging into the glass vase on the landing table behind her. She cursed as it crashed into pieces on the wooden floor.
‘… Hold up Johnny, I’ll call you back.’
The door of the bedroom flung open and Eddie stood staring down suspiciously at Sandra.
Carefully picking up the pieces of broken glass, she frowned. ‘Oh, there you are, I was wondering where you’d gone.’
Eddie’s eyes darkened. ‘How long have you been there?’
‘What? On me hands and knees picking up this poxy vase? I don’t know Eddie, should I have been timing meself?’
He paused, trying to read her face. ‘No. Outside the door, listening.’
Snapping, Sandra pointed a piece of glass at Eddie. ‘If I’d been listening, then I would’ve known where you were, wouldn’t I?’
‘You’re up to something. I know it.’
‘Then you know more than I do, and the only reason you think I’m up to something is because you must be. What are you hiding, Eddie?’
Eddie shuffled. ‘Nothing.’
‘Well you look suspicious for doing nothing, but maybe instead of standing there gawping, you can start helping me pick this up, cos when Barrie does turn up, he won’t want glass in his paws, will he?… Where you going? Ed! Ed! I’m talking to you!’
As she watched Eddie stalk off, leaving the smell of alcohol in the air behind him, Sandra let out a sigh of relief and slumped down. She threw the pieces of vase to one side. She needed to speak to Alfie and quickly.
Waiting for the front door to shut, Sandra pulled out her phone. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but there was no way it could be a different Bree. No way. She hadn’t come across that name for years. There was coincidence and there was blatantly obvious. And whatever it was, it was obvious Eddie was up to no good. And Bree, the little bitch, was in on it too. How, she didn’t know. What it was, she couldn’t guess, but Alfie had been right that Bree wasn’t all that she seemed.
Alfie’s phone went straight to voicemail. ‘Alf, it’s me, Sandra. I need to talk to you. It’s about Bree. Call me back as soon as.’
A sound to the side of her made her look up.
‘I knew you were up to something.’
Eddie Styler stood looking down at Sandra, a claw hammer in his hand.
On a large grassy verge by the sand and shingle beach of Shoeburyness, three miles east of Southend-on-Sea, Alfie Jennings sat listening to Sandra’s voicemail. He shook his head and smiled. Now she had something to say about Bree, no doubt bored and looking for a bit of gossip. A bit of a nosey. Well she’d have to wait. He’d call her later, or maybe tomorrow, and see if she’d found out anything more about Eddie and what he knew, but for now, his sister would have to find her natter elsewhere.
Seeing some headlights approaching, Alfie stuffed his phone into his pocket and got out of the car, waiting for the SUV to stop. Smiling, he looked at her as she turned off the lights.
Smiling, she looked at him as he waited in the warmth of the evening. His handsome face lighting up. Taking a deep breath, her eyes sore from crying, Bree got out of the car, doing what she knew needed to be done. Pushing every other thought away. This time, as Johnny had said, she had to make it count.
‘Hey, Alf!’ As her heart raced, Bree hoped her tone s
ounded casual.
‘Hey, sorry to meet you out in the open … again! It’s becoming a bit of a habit.’
She shrugged, ignoring the way he smiled at her. Ignoring his warmth. She had to think of him as the enemy, it was the only way she could do this. To see him as the person who stood between Ryan and his safety.
‘No matter. It’s just nice to see you. Thanks for meeting me Alf, especially after the last time. I didn’t think you would.’
‘It’s hard to ignore ten messages, unless of course they were from Janine that is.’
She grinned. ‘It wasn’t good how we left it last time. I just wanted to explain.’
Alfie gestured to both cars. ‘Okay, but your place or mine?’
She laughed. ‘How about my place?’
‘Thought you’d never ask.’
They got into Bree’s car, looking at each other, not saying anything. Unable to hold Alfie’s gaze, Bree turned away, playing with an unseen thread on her top. ‘Like I said, I needed to explain … I did lie to you, Alf.’
‘I knew it …’
She looked at him oddly.
He shrugged. ‘Sorry. Go on.’
‘There is no Andrew. I mean, that’s not my ex’s name. I made it up because it felt easier. His real name is Mick and …’ She trailed off, struggling, hating herself more and more with every passing word.
‘And?’
‘I’ve had a lot of trouble with him. He ain’t a nice man. I was embarrassed and you seemed like you had it all sorted out. Your life seemed great.’
Alfie gave a wry smile. ‘If only you knew because, sweetheart, if you did, you wouldn’t be saying that.’