by Jacqui Rose
He stared at her again and Bree could see he hadn’t understood everything she’d said. But that didn’t matter, because today was a good day for him. For her. When he spoke, when he interacted independently, it was more than she’d ever thought she’d get, because there’d been many dark days, dark weeks, when the only thing she’d got from Ryan were grunts and sounds with no light in his eyes at all.
She led him to the large pine tree where years ago they’d carved their names, and sitting down she smiled. ‘What am I going to do, Ryan? It’s all a mess. It’s all falling apart. I wish you could help me. Tell me what to do.’
‘What to do.’
‘Exactly, what to do. What am I supposed to do, Ryan? I can’t do it, I can’t hurt Alfie.’
‘Can’t hurt Alfie.’
‘I know but then I can’t let them do anything to you, baby. But this isn’t me. It’s not who I am. It’s not.’
Ryan gazed blankly, repeating her words. ‘It’s not.’
She squeezed his hand again, feeling so much love towards him. ‘Do you think I should tell Alfie?’
‘Tell Alfie.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
She shook her head, looking down at the moss as she played with some stones. ‘But what happens if Johnny finds out. I don’t care what he does to me, but you, I don’t want him to do anything to you.’
‘I don’t want him to do anything to you.’
Bree leaned her head on Ryan’s shoulder and closed her eyes. ‘You’re so sweet, thank you for caring. So, you think I should tell Alfie, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll do it, I’ll do it somehow.’
‘Do it, somehow.’
She reached out and gave him a hug. ‘Thank you, Ryan, thank you for helping me. I knew I could rely on you … Now, come on, let’s go and find those kittens of yours before it gets dark.’
61
Eddie Styler could hardly contain himself. Everything was set up and was going just how he imagined it to be. And if all went well, then this time tomorrow he would be on a train and it’d be goodbye Essex, hello new and successful life.
‘What are you looking so pleased about?’
Eddie scowled at Sandra who, after five minutes, was still sitting on the toilet.
‘If you must know Sand, I’m thinking about me life.’
‘You’re life’s a joke. Ain’t worth putting in the bin let alone thinking about.’
The scornful laughter that came from Sandra almost dampened his good mood. Almost. But instead he stared at her evenly.
‘I don’t know what you’re laughing about Sandra, because if anybody’s life’s a joke, it’s yours. It may not have occurred to you, but you’ve been locked up here for some time now, and I don’t see anyone coming to your rescue, do you? I mean I don’t see mates or relatives coming to see what’s happened. Worrying about your whereabouts. Even Barrie the bleedin’ cat has pissed off.’
Sandra’s face dropped. Far from it not occurring to her, it’d played on her mind constantly when she’d been working out who would actually miss her and who it was who’d actually come looking.
She didn’t have a job, so she had no boss or work colleagues to wonder where she was, and most of her friends were actually only afternoon coffee and manicure-on-the-high-street acquaintances. Truth be told, she had a closer relationship with her hairdresser than her so-called friends, and it’d been a while since she’d bothered to get her roots done. The gardener had been dismissed due to money problems, as had their cleaner. So, who was left? Who would notice she was gone? The only person she could come up with was the nurse who’d insisted on making an appointment for her smear test, and she doubted that the gynae department at Basildon Hospital stretched to search and rescue. So that only left the one person who she couldn’t bear to think had abandoned her, didn’t care whether he heard from her or not. And that person was …
‘Alfie. Alfie will have called, he’ll be wondering where I am.’
Eddie pulled out Sandra’s phone from his pocket. There were dozens of missed calls from Alfie. He shook his head. ‘No, don’t look like it.’
Trying to disguise her hurt, Sandra swallowed down her tears. ‘You’re lying, Eddie.’
He grinned, seeing the pain in her eyes. ‘Perhaps he’s calling a different number, cos he’s certainly not calling this one.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
Eddie shrugged. ‘If it makes you feel better to think that I ain’t telling the truth, well fine. I’m lying. But face it Sandra, he don’t give a shit about you. The only thing he cares about is them diamonds and, by all accounts, Johnny Dwyer’s missus, Bree.’
‘What?’
Sandra felt shocked. Everyone in the criminal world had heard of Johnny Dwyer, he was a thug, cold and dangerous. Certainly not right in the head, but she had no idea he had a wife, and certainly no idea that Bree was even connected to him. How? How did someone like Bree end up with someone like Johnny? She’d clearly changed because the Bree she’d known had been warm and kind, vulnerable, funny, beautiful and special. Not someone who would’ve gone within an inch of a person like Johnny Dwyer.
But then she guessed people changed and apart from realising Bree must have turned into one of the biggest bitches, she felt sick because she had a growing suspicion that Alfie, her brother whom she loved so much, could be in grave, grave danger, and she couldn’t, she just couldn’t lose another brother.
Seeing Sandra’s concern, Eddie gloated. ‘Oh, I might as well tell you, cos you’ll find out soon enough. Your brother got well and truly mugged over by this bird Bree. She’s a proper sort. Apparently, she knew Alfie back in the day, nobody knows how. I don’t think Johnny asked her. You never knew her, did you?’
Sandra could hardly speak, and she just about managed to say, ‘No.’
‘Well anyway, your brother’s been thinking with his dick and not his brains, turns out he gave her a whole heap of pillow talk. She found out all about the deal he’s making with the diamonds. I’m not surprised he told her everything. Fucking hell, I don’t blame him, I’d spill the beans too if I had Bree’s lips around me cock. Anyway, Johnny got Bree to find out everything and now, what do you know, we’re in the money.’
Eddie grinned as he watched Sandra blanch. He wished he’d be able to see Johnny do the same when he realised that he wasn’t going to get any part of the diamonds. What he planned was going to be sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined.
62
It was early morning and Bree picked up her phone. She’d been trying to call Alfie for the best part of the night, but each time it’d gone straight to voicemail. She’d been afraid to leave a message for fear he’d call back, just in case Johnny picked up her phone, which he so often did. Answering it, checking it, getting itemised bills, making sure she didn’t call anybody she shouldn’t.
If Johnny knew or even suspected that she’d been trying to contact Alfie now that they’d got all the information they needed, he’d know immediately something was up. She had to be careful, really careful. She knew she only had one chance and both Ryan and Alfie’s lives depended on her getting it right.
Sighing and trying to ignore the nausea that was bringing a sickly sweetness to her throat, Bree tried Alfie’s phone again, but still there was no answer. Her nerves were playing havoc with her and she could feel herself trembling. Her legs were shaking so much it was causing her back to hurt.
Everything was such a mess. Though the one thing she was grateful for was that Kieran and Molly had gone to one of Ma’s friends over in Wickford because there was no way she’d be able to pretend that everything was alright.
She had no idea what she was going to do. No idea at all. But she knew that time was running out. She had less than twelve hours – if that – to somehow get in contact and stop Alfie going through with the drop-off. That is, of course, if he’d listen. Because not only would she be admitting she’d lied to him, but she’d
be asking him to throw away the two-million-pound deal he’d set up and he so badly needed.
Hearing Johnny come out of the bathroom, Bree quickly deleted her call log to Alfie before putting her phone away, stuffing it in the back pocket of her jeans.
She smiled as he came into the kitchen and looked at her suspiciously, frowning, her beauty riling him, taunting him, causing his jealousy to ignite as it so often did.
‘Why you here? Where’s Ma? What you doing in the kitchen anyway?’
Bree spoke softly, desperate not to inflame Johnny any more than he was. ‘I don’t feel so great. I was just getting some water.’
He walked up to her, stroking her face. His handsome features brooding as his hand slid down to clutch her throat. ‘I love you Bree, you know that. I always have. Ryan never deserved you. I’m the one who looks after you.’
Her body went rigid as she pushed herself away from him, the curve of her spine pressing against the worktop. ‘I know, I know you do, and … and I love you too.’
Johnny leaned in and almost nose to nose, he said, ‘Do you?’
‘I do.’
‘Say it, let me hear you say it. Tell me you love Johnny?’
She looked at him, trying to hold his gaze, watching the vein on his temple pulsate. ‘I do. I love Johnny. I always have.’
Letting go of her throat he continued to stare at her. Thoughts rushing through his mind, then a moment later, satisfied, he nodded, speaking quietly to her as he rubbed his temples from the noise in his head. ‘Have you seen Ma? I need to go.’
‘I think she’s down by the chicken coop, well she was the last time I saw her.’
Getting a drink of water for himself, Johnny shouted at the top of his voice, ‘Ma! Ma! I need to go. Ma!’
A few minutes later, Ma appeared, red-faced, waddling in with a blue plastic tub full of chicken eggs tucked under her arm. ‘What’s with all the hollering, son? I can hear you calling from the other side of the yard.’
‘I’m going. I’ll be back tomorrow. I want you to keep an eye on her. You hear me? Make sure she don’t go anywhere. She’s my wife, nobody else’s.’
Lacking any force behind it, Ma slapped Johnny across his chest. ‘What’s wrong with you? You know you don’t have to tell me that. You’re the one who’s too soft with her, not me. You’re forgetting if it wasn’t for me, Little Miss Muffet here might never have been yours. Remember that. Now get gone. Be safe, son.’
Without looking back, Johnny stalked out of the room leaving Bree with Ma, who sniffed, staring at Bree in disgust. ‘Right, don’t think because Johnny’s gone that you can slack off round here. Johnny may be a soft touch, but I ain’t. There’s cleaning to be done and lunch and dinner to cook. There’s beds to be made and there’s a pile of ironing in my house that needs sorting.’
Ma turned on her heel without saying another word. She slammed the door closed and Bree stood listening to Ma’s heavy footsteps crunch across the gravel yard to her own mobile home. And then there was silence apart from the dogs barking in the yard.
Pulling the net curtain back and checking Ma had really gone inside, Bree whipped out the phone again, punching in Alfie’s number. ‘Come on. Come on, answer. Please answer.’ But it was as she feared; straight to voicemail.
Looking up at the clock, Bree knew she needed to think of something quick.
Ten minutes after Johnny had gone, Bree was still trying to contact Alfie. She’d even texted him to call her but she was no further forward in either speaking to him or coming up with an idea of what she was supposed to do now.
‘Bree! Bree! Make me a cup of tea. Not too much milk and make sure you put sugar in!’
Answering Ma’s boorish request, Bree called back, shouting out of the window to the other mobile home. ‘Okay Ma, I won’t be long.’
Quickly Bree filled up the kettle, getting a tea bag out of the jar before rushing over to the crockery cupboard, making sure she chose exactly the right cup for Ma.
Bringing the red and pink flower cup back across to the kettle, Bree suddenly froze, a thought hitting her. Standing motionless in the middle of the room her mind began to race and slowly, slowly, she turned around, tiptoeing softly back as if she was walking on glass, as if Ma could hear her every move.
She stopped, trying to push down the tension rising in her chest, taking a deep, long breath before she flung open the cupboard door to stare at what she’d just seen. And there it was on the top shelf. There at the back was perhaps her answer. A bottle of morphine Ma always liked to keep, just in case.
Ma had weaned her off the drug a long time ago – painfully and slowly – after she showed that she could be trusted not to run away, not to alert any of the authorities, not to do anything that might make them think she was planning to leave.
On the odd occasion over the years Ma and Johnny had given it to her again, forcing her to take it when they’d seen her as being defiant, being troublesome. The last time they’d made her take it was when Molly had fallen into the river. It’d knocked her out and when she’d woken up, in between her thighs had been covered in bruises, and as usual after waking up from the morphine, she had no memory of what had happened whilst she’d been unconscious.
And in truth the defiance, the trouble, had only been when she’d broken down hysterically, begging for compassion, unable to cope anymore with the overbearing, violently oppressive situation in which she found herself imprisoned.
‘Bree! Bree! Where’s my bleedin’ tea!’
‘I’m coming, Ma! Kettle’s just boiled.’
Grabbing the almost empty bottle, Bree took it over to the side, making sure she made the tea first in the way that Ma liked it. Then carefully she poured in the morphine sulphate.
There wasn’t a lot left, but Bree knew what there was might do the trick, knocking Ma out for the vital hours she needed. She could put Ma to sleep without her knowing she was gone. Of course, it was a risk. She was terrified, and she would never think about doing anything like this if she wasn’t desperate, mainly because there would never be anywhere far enough from Johnny for her to run.
But what else could she do? She knew Alfie would get there early and hopefully she’d be able to contact him sooner rather than later, and certainly before he went onto the island. But in the worst-case scenario, the very worst, Mersea Island wasn’t so big, taking only half an hour to drive the whole way around.
But that was the last thing she wanted to do, to go on the island itself. She couldn’t bump into Johnny, because if she did, it would be over for all of them.
Adding three heaped teaspoons of sugar – which disguised the taste of the morphine – and stirring the tea thoroughly, Bree walked it across to Ma, hoping what she was planning wasn’t written all over her face.
Going into the lounge of Ma’s mobile home, Bree smiled, trying to concentrate on stopping her hand from shaking too much. ‘Here you are Ma, just as you like it.’
Ma glanced up at Bree as she sat slumped on the clear plastic cover of the blue leather sofa. Not bothering to say thank you, Ma grabbed the cup.
‘Well go on then, what are you standing there for? Ain’t you got jobs to do?’
‘Sorry, I was just making sure your tea was okay and it had enough sugar in it.’
Keeping her eyes locked on Bree, Ma took a sip of her drink. She tasted it noisily before nodding, turning her attention back to the TV.
‘I’ll start on your ironing, Ma. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’
Standing in Ma’s lilac and silver kitchen, Bree watched the clock. She could feel her breathing was shallow and tight; nerves were kicking in, making prickles of sweat drip down her back.
As long as Ma drank all her tea, it’d take fifteen to twenty minutes for the morphine to kick in, and once it did, she’d make her way down to Peldon, Colchester. It was early morning, so the traffic through Saffron Walden and beyond shouldn’t be too bad, and if she got lucky the drive would take her no more than an hour
tops.
One of the main problems was that she couldn’t take her own car because Johnny always wrote down and had a record of her mileage, checking each time she used it that she hadn’t gone further or where she wasn’t supposed to. Which meant she’d have to take one of Johnny’s or even Ma’s cars.
It was chancy, and she’d have to make sure she drove carefully, no speeding tickets, no parking tickets, nothing that would come back and haunt her.
As she stood watching the minutes tick by, wanting to but resisting the temptation of checking on Ma, Bree suddenly thought of Ryan. She couldn’t leave him on his own and she certainly couldn’t take him.
Hurrying out of the kitchen, Bree made her way along the hallway of Ma’s mobile home. Seeing that Ma was still awake, she called to her, wanting to reassure her that everything was as it should be.
‘Ma, I’m just popping over to get something and I’ll see if there’s any more of your clothes over there which need ironing. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’
Not waiting for a reply, Bree ran across the small gravel path to her own home, making her way to the kitchen. Quickly she grabbed the bottle of morphine again, pouring it into a glass, mixing it with Ryan’s favourite strawberry squash.
Giving Ryan some morphine was the very last thing she wanted to do, but at least this way she’d know he’d be safe. Safely tucked up in bed without any chance of him getting up, needing food, needing some loving care.
Carefully putting the bottle back in the exact place Ma had left it, Bree hurried back across to Ma’s.
Passing the lounge Ma shouted, her tone irritated. ‘What have you got there?’
Bree froze, her heart beating quickly as she spoke from in the hallway. ‘Nothing.’
‘Ain’t nothing, if you’ve got something in your hand. Come here!’
Bree attempted to dispel her rising panic. Hesitantly, she walked to the lounge, standing in the doorway. ‘It’s just juice, Ma. I was a bit thirsty.’
