Life of Crime

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘Do you honestly love Melissa?’ Carol asked Jason.

  ‘Of course I do. I wouldn’t have agreed to marry her otherwise,’ Jason lied. ‘But I can’t change my past. We’ve all got skeletons and all I can say is sorry for mine coming out the closet today. I should’ve told Darlene I was getting married, been upfront with her. But she threw a tantrum when I ended things, and I didn’t want to antagonize her further.’

  The lad did have a point, everybody had a past. Was it right to judge him on something that had happened before he’d met Melissa? Carol mused. And even though Darlene looked tarty, she was attractive in a dirty-looking way, so it was easy to see how Jason had fallen under her spell. Young men were easily impressionable. ‘I am going to get Mel. You two need to talk in private,’ Carol replied.

  Having been earwigging, Johnny Brooks appeared and grabbed his wife’s arm. ‘You will do no such thing. I don’t want our daughter anywhere near that filthy bastard. He disgusts me.’

  Carol led Johnny away from the Ramplings and towards the hall door. ‘Let them talk, sort things out for themselves,’ she urged.

  ‘No way,’ Johnny barked. ‘The marriage is over. He can’t be trusted. He’s a wrong ’un.’

  Carol glared at her husband with hatred in her eyes. ‘Don’t you start being all virtuous with me, Johnny Brooks. I know all about your bit of fluff, have done for years.’

  Johnny felt his blood run cold. Surely Carol wasn’t referring to Shirley? ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he bluffed. ‘You’re losing the plot, woman.’

  ‘I might have a brain tumour, but I haven’t lost my marbles just yet,’ Carol screamed. ‘Shirley Stone! I know all about you and her. You’ve been knocking her off for years.’

  Unfortunately for Johnny and Carol, Melissa had been about to step outside and heard every word. She appeared, tears streaming down her face. ‘You BASTARD,’ she yelled, lunging at her father, fists flailing. ‘You dirty, disgusting old pervert.’

  Later that evening, Jason stepped out of the shower in the luxurious hotel room Johnny had paid for as a wedding present. It was opulent, the best gaff he had ever been to, and it made him even more determined to keep hold of Mel and make something of his life.

  Melissa had been distraught after learning her father’s little secret, had insisted they leave the hall immediately. She was still understandably angry with him too, and they were yet to discuss Darlene in full detail. On the journey here, she’d seemed more upset by her father’s behaviour than her wedding being ruined, which gave Jason hope for the future.

  Wrapping a soft white towelling bathrobe around himself, Jason strolled out the bathroom. Mel was lying on the bed, flicking through TV channels, her thoughts elsewhere. She’d already showered, was wearing a bathrobe too. ‘You OK?’ he asked, knowing it was a rather dumb question to be asking. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t care though.

  ‘I will never forgive him. My poor mum. How must she feel, knowing when she dies that old slag will be hovering, waiting to pounce and take her place?’

  Jason sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I know. It’s terrible. So wrong. Your mum is one of the nicest people I have ever met.’

  ‘Tell me about Darlene. How did you meet her?’ Melissa asked, remembering her mother’s stern advice as she’d got in the taxi.

  Jason lay down next to Melissa on the bed and explained in more detail just how awful his childhood had been and how he’d turned to Darlene for comfort. ‘I knew it was wrong, what we were doing. But I was messed up back then,’ he lied. He could hardly admit Darlene was the best he’d ever had and he’d enjoyed every second of their wild love-making sessions.

  ‘Do you love her?’

  ‘Don’t be daft! She’s old enough to be my bloody mother. But I will never forget how kind she was to me as a kid, Mel. Even after today, I can’t hate her. What I can promise you though, is that I will never see her again, or betray you like your dad has your mum. When I said our vows, I truly meant ’em. Marriage is the real deal to me.’

  ‘Prove it to me then. Make love to me like you made love to her.’

  Jason grinned. ‘You sure?’ He had thought he might win her round once the initial shock had worn off, but not this quickly.

  Needing something positive to come out of this awful day, Melissa draped her arms around her husband’s neck. ‘Yes, I’m positive.’

  Jason dutifully obliged, was up her like a rat up a drainpipe, and as he shot his load, he thought of Darlene.

  PART TWO

  ‘A truth that’s told with bad intent,

  Beats all the lies you can invent’

  William Blake

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  1999 – Five Years Later

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s the postman, love.’

  ‘OK. Come in.’

  Seconds later, Marianna St Clair recoiled in terror as her regular postman was bundled to the floor by a man dressed in black wearing a balaclava.

  ‘Get down, now! Hands above your head so I can see ’em. Touch any panic buttons and you’re both dead,’ the man bellowed. His voice sounded gruff, not one to be messed with, and he definitely had a London accent.

  Robbery had always been Marianna’s biggest fear since her father Pierre had taken over the jeweller’s shop in 1976, but thanks to improvements in technology and policing, robberies were virtually unheard of these days. Especially in a high-class area such as Morton Street. ‘Take whatever you want. Take it all, but please do not hurt me. It’s my father’s funeral on Friday,’ Marianna wept.

  Ordering the postman to stay where he was, Craig Thurston dragged the woman up by her arm and barked at her to fill the bags with her most expensive items. ‘Diamonds! Rings, watches, anything with fucking diamonds,’ Craig shouted, walloping the postman over the head with his baseball bat to show her he meant business.

  Unaware of what was actually happening inside the shop; Jason Rampling was parked nearby on a motorbike. This was the fourteenth robbery he’d accompanied Craig on and by far the most risky, due to the location.

  ‘Go, go,’ Craig yelled as he leapt on the back of the bike.

  Jason put his foot on the throttle. Seconds later he heard the sirens.

  ‘Hello, Mel. Long time no see. How you doing?’ asked Carrie Pritchard.

  Melissa Rampling smiled falsely. She hated Carrie. The woman was so up her own arse it was unbelievable. Everything about her was false, including her huge tits that resembled balloons. ‘I’m good, thanks. Yourself?’

  Beauty salons were now the in thing, especially in wealthier parts of Essex, and as Melissa had her feet expertly pedicured she had to listen to Carrie drone on about how wonderful her life was for a whole hour.

  ‘What are you doing for the Millennium? Ian’s booked us on a cruise, but we’ll be spending New Year’s Eve in the Dominican Republic. The kids are ever so excited. They’ve excelled since we decided to send them to private school. It’s a much better education. You should think about sending Donte and Shay to top schools. Not cheap, but you can’t put a price on your children’s futures, can you?’

  By the time Melissa left the salon she was completely wound up. It had been ages since Jason had taken herself and the kids on holiday. Neither were their children excelling at school. She would have a word with Jason later. If the Pritchards could afford such luxuries, then why couldn’t they?

  ‘You OK? Bit of a close shave, eh?’ Craig chuckled, as Jason put the motorbike in the back of the van. They’d been chased for a couple of miles by the police and it was only Jason’s knowledge of back streets and his expertise of handling a motorbike that had saved them from getting caught.

  Jason took the ramp away and slammed the back doors. ‘It ain’t funny, Craig. We nearly spent tonight in prison.’

  ‘Look on the bright side: gotta be worth three quarters of a mill, our little haul. We’ll take it straight down to Mick the Gold, see what he’ll give us for it. He’s e
xpecting us.’

  Mick the Gold dealt solely in stolen watches, gold and diamonds. He had contacts abroad and the stuff would be taken out of the country and sold.

  ‘Let’s get rid of the bike first, eh? It’s giving me the heebies.’

  Craig laughed. ‘Chill out, you nutter.’

  Melissa Rampling drove towards Upminster Cemetery with a bee in her bonnet. Jason was currently on a bit of work, she knew that much. She could always tell when he was up to something more dodgy than usual, as he became tense and would go out at unusual hours.

  Melissa never asked her husband what he was up to. She’d known he was a ducker and diver when she married him and would rather be kept in the dark. As long as the money kept rolling in, Melissa was happy. They lived in a nice area, Chigwell Row, and although she felt their three-bedroomed house was a bit small for them now, she’d furnished it like a palace inside. The chandeliers alone had cost her three grand.

  Debating whether to ring Jason, Melissa decided against it. If he was on a bit of work, she didn’t want to disturb him. Five years and five months they’d been married now and, considering what a fiasco their wedding day had been, they’d weathered the storm very well.

  Their marriage was by no means perfect, but whose was? Jason had his faults. She’d even suspected him of cheating on her a couple of times when he’d come home in the early hours reeking of women’s perfume, but she had no proof and he’d denied any wrongdoing. Melissa was a big believer in what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. But she would put her foot down if Jason ever had a dragged-out affair like her bastard of a father had. That would be totally unacceptable.

  Melissa would never forget the advice her mother had given her on her wedding day. ‘Jason is a decent person with a kind heart, love. He will also be a good provider and father to Donte. I know today has been horrific for you, but you go to that hotel with Jason tonight and give your marriage a go. Forget all about that old scrubber who turned up. Men will be men and she’s part of Jason’s past. You, my darling, are his future.’

  Her mum had been spot on. She’d never had to work. Jason was the breadwinner and also a brilliant father. Donte worshipped the ground he walked on, as did Shay. She could be a stroppy little mare at times, Shay could, and Melissa had never felt she’d accepted her as a mother figure. Donte had called Jason ‘Dad’ from a young age. But Shay would only ever refer to her as ‘Mel’.

  The one thing about her mum Melissa had never understood was the Shirley Stone turnout. They’d had a heart-to-heart about it, soon after her wedding. ‘When I went through my early menopause, I never wanted sex, love. Your father is a man and men have needs. Shirley is a decent enough woman and when I die, if your father were to get with her properly, I’d like to think you’ll give her a chance. He’s no good on his own, your dad. Like a lost sheep, he’ll be, without me. That’s one of the reasons I never told him I knew about Shirley. Not in a million years would he have ever left me for her, and I don’t want him to be lonely. I know you hate him at this moment in time, but you won’t always. Never forget what a good father he has been to you, Melissa.’

  Well, her mother had been wrong about that. She could never forgive her father for his betrayal, and had been furious when he had moved in with Shirley Stone six months after her mother’s death. ‘Mum’s body ain’t even cold!’ she’d ranted to Jason. He’d been her rock around that awful time, had soothed, comforted her and wiped away her tears. But it had hardened her, changed her in lots of ways.

  Arriving at the cemetery, Melissa lifted the flowers off the front seat. She’d adored her wonderful mum, there wasn’t a day went by she didn’t think about her and miss her. As for her father and that slapper, Shirley Stone – they could both rot in hell.

  As Craig drove towards Mick the Gold’s house in Bromley, Jason was deep in thought. That police chase earlier had been a bit too close for comfort and the thought of spending years behind bars, not being there for Shay and Donte, did not appeal to him at all. Melissa didn’t have a clue about money. She was good at spending it, that he did know, but she would never survive if he got banged up. Mel spent her days being pampered in salons and having long girlie lunches that cost him an arm and a leg. She’d never get a job. Work was a dirty word to Mel.

  It had been roughly six months after his wedding that he’d bumped into Craig Thurston down the Ilford Palais. It was a Monday, Grab-a-Granny night, and he’d gone down there to see a Greek guy he knew about a bit of business. Craig had recognized him and they’d got chatting. They’d then ended up in ChinaTown, the restaurant, had left there around four in the morning and a working friendship had been created. Craig had been straight up with Jason from the start. He’d told him he was the one who’d helped Darlene ruin his wedding and he’d apologized for doing so. ‘It weren’t aimed at you, mate. But Johnny Brooks is a snidey bastard, he tried to rip me off. Plus Darlene and I go back years,’ he’d explained.

  Working with Craig was the only way Jason could afford Melissa and the kids’ lifestyles. They wanted and expected the best in life and it was up to him to fund it. Melissa in particular was wasteful with money. She seemed to think it grew on trees. He had never told her that it was Craig’s doing their wedding was ruined. She knew they were acquaintances now, but would go apeshit if she knew the truth.

  ‘You all right, mate? You’re a bit quiet. Like an episode of The Sweeney when we was being chased earlier, eh?’ Craig chuckled.

  ‘Yeah, I’m OK. Just thinking how much more in front of meself I’d be if Melissa had allowed her father to buy us our first house. She’s hard work at times and it’s days like today that brings it home to me.’

  After learning about her father’s affair with Shirley Stone, Melissa had thrown all her toys out of the pram and obstinately refused his kind offer of buying them their first property as a wedding gift. Carol’s death had dug them out of a massive hole. They’d had to rent a shithole flat in Elm Park up until Carol died, but she’d had money stashed away from the death of her own mother that she left the bulk of to Mel. ‘I’ve left your brother ten grand, but I want you to have the other forty. Mark’s like your father, he’ll always earn a pound note. But you’re my little girl. I don’t want you living in that flat in Elm Park. Buy a property in a decent area and use that money to secure your mortgage. You won’t regret it,’ Carol had told Mel on her deathbed.

  ‘I’ve decided to call it a day with Mandy,’ Craig said, referring to his current girlfriend. Things had never worked out with Darlene. They’d had a great holiday but she’d dumped him when they got home. She hadn’t been able to get over Jason, and Craig was cool about that now. They were still good mates.

  ‘Why?’ Jason asked.

  ‘Too much hard work. Want, want, want all the poxy time. As soon as we get our dosh off Mick the Gold, I’m pissing off to Thailand. Grateful, the birds are out there. Nowhere near as demanding as English women. They make good wives and all of a sudden I fancy having kids.’

  ‘Really?’ Craig had never struck Jason as the fatherly type. He was too much of a party animal.

  ‘Yeah, really. Forty now, ain’t I? No spring chicken. You and Mel never fancied having a kid? You know, together like.’

  Jason sighed. He and Mel weren’t exactly at it like rabbits, never had been. But a year after her mum had died she’d stopped taking the pill and had never fallen pregnant. It was a sore subject indoors and it would get on his nerves every month when she’d blub because her period had arrived. ‘Mel wants one, but I’m not overly fussed, to be honest. Kids ain’t cheap to keep, trust me. Spent over a grand already on their Christmas presents and Shay has now decided she wants a fucking pony.’

  Craig grinned. ‘Well, with the bit of work we’ve done today you’ll be able to afford it a stable an’ all. As I said to you earlier, look on the bright side, my friend.’

  ‘Where’s me dad?’ asked Shay Rampling, slamming the new mobile phone she’d received only last weekend on the kitche
n table.

  ‘Be careful. Cost a lot of money, that did,’ Melissa snapped. ‘No idea where your father is, but don’t be ringing him because I think he’s busy.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  Melissa stared at the sullen-looking child who had just turned ten. Shay was tall for her age, still had a feral look about her. But she also had the potential to become a stunner. Her eyes were bright blue, her hair long and dark. She reminded Melissa of a young Kate Moss. ‘Working, as I said.’

  ‘Yeah, but working doing what? Maisy at school reckons Dad is a gangster.’

  ‘Well, Maisy at school knows nothing. Your father might be a bit of a ducker and diver, but he is certainly no bloody gangster. Donte, I’m ordering a takeaway. Come and choose what you want,’ Melissa shouted out.

  Dressed in an Arsenal kit, Donte slouched on a kitchen chair. He would be eight next birthday, was a striking boy. ‘I want a pizza with extra salami,’ he informed his mother.

  ‘I don’t want pizza. I want an Indian,’ Shay insisted.

  Melissa thought of Carrie Pritchard again. She’d been bragging earlier about how well-mannered her children now were. She reckoned private schools instilled politeness into kids, that would set them up for life. Jason was always moaning that Shay in particular never seemed grateful for anything and that had to change. ‘To save money and time, can you just pick one takeaway to order from this evening?’ Melissa sighed.

  ‘Well, I don’t want pizza,’ Shay snapped.

  ‘And I don’t like Indian,’ Donte grunted.

  Silently praying that whatever job Jason was on today was a big one, Melissa ordered the children what they wanted. Private school was the answer, she knew that, and the sooner Shay and Donte attended one, the better. They might even learn the art of saying ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’ there.

  Mick the Gold studied the last of the haul. He always used a magnifying glass when checking valuables out. ‘I’ll give you three hundred grand for the lot,’ he said.