Scorned

by Kerry Kaya

  “Well, you’re smiling, so that’s got to be a good sign. I take it there hasn’t been any comebacks over the shooting?”

  “Of course not. I told you there wouldn’t be any.” Danny studied Tommy and noted that he looked as though he was carrying the world and its troubles on his shoulders. “Problem?” he enquired.

  “Kids, mate,” Tommy sighed. By the time he’d left for work that morning, Jake still hadn’t returned home. “You should be grateful that you’ve only got the one,” he said, referring to Danny’s young son, Little Danny.

  Danny chuckled. “Yeah, well, he’s only a babe in arms. I’m sure he’ll give me enough grief as he grows older.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s hoping that he doesn’t, mate.”

  Danny looked around him. Usually, the office was bustling with Carters. “Where is everyone?”

  “All out grafting, mate, which brings me to ask, what are you doing here?”

  It was Danny’s turn to sigh. “It’s just a flying visit. I was passing by, on my way to meet Moray, so thought I’d pop in.”

  Pushing a stack of paperwork across his desk, Tommy smiled. “I had a horrible feeling you were going to tell me that Jonny had been up to his old tricks again.”

  Danny shook his head. “Nah, I think he’s learnt his lesson there.”

  “Good, because I can tell you now, that’s the last time I bail him out, and I’ve told him as much.”

  “I know,” Danny agreed. “I’m on my way to London, Soho actually, your neck of the woods,” he said, referring to the strip club Tommy owned in Soho.

  Tommy raised his eyebrows.

  “Moray and me, we’re still trying to trace everyone on the list that Matty Payne gave us.” He cleared his throat, before dragging his hand across his face. “You know, the business with Freddie?”

  “Yeah.” Tommy nodded his head, his expression sombre. “I still can’t believe it, if I’m being totally honest. I mean, I didn’t like Freddie and the feeling was pretty much mutual, but not for one minute, did I think he was getting up to anything like that.” He was thoughtful for a moment. Even now, the thought of Freddie Smith, the top dog of the East End, targeting teenage runaways for his own sexual gratification, sickened him.

  “I know. The thing is, a lot of the names on the list are nicknames or aliases, so it’s like finding a needle in a haystack, if I’m being totally honest. But I won’t give up. It’s eating away at me, if you know what I mean.” He patted the list inside his jacket pocket. “I feel like I owe it to these kids to sort all of this out. We all knew Freddie was sick in the head. We all should have known something wasn’t right, when he started putting kids on the payroll. Maybe if he’d been taken out sooner, we could have put a stop to it.”

  “You can’t think like that, mate. It wasn’t your fault. None of us knew what he was.”

  Danny stared out of the office window. “Yeah, I know,” he finally answered. “Anyway, I’m meeting up with Moray. We’ll head toward London and see what we can find out. Maybe once it’s sorted out, we should all meet up for a drink or a curry. What d’ya reckon?”

  “Yeah, mate, sounds good to me. Just let me know where and when.”

  “Right then.” Danny stood up and scraped his chair backwards as he did so. “Like I said, it’s only a flying visit. See you later, Tommy.”

  “See you, mate, and good luck.” Tommy watched Danny lift his hand in acknowledgement and sighed to himself. What the fuck was the world coming to?

  * * *

  Sadie unlocked the front door to his flat. Stepping inside, he quietly closed the door behind him and leant his back against it, closing his eyes tightly.

  “Hello, my lovely.” He smiled down at the ginger cat, winding its way around his legs. “At least someone’s pleased to see me.” He picked the feline up and nestled his face against the cat’s fur, whilst it purred loudly in his ear. Making his way into the kitchen, he filled the cat’s bowl with biscuits, refilled the water bowl, then shrugged off his coat.

  Pouring himself a glass of wine, he swallowed a mouthful, placed the glass down onto the counter, and then walked through to the bedroom. Once there, he began to undress. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Sadie studied his reflection. Across his stomach and thigh, were a series of two-inch vivid purple puckered scars. He’d been told by the doctors who had saved his life that they would eventually fade to white, yet ten years on, they still hadn’t.

  He could still recall the pain he’d suffered, as Ronald Browning had plunged the knife deep into his flesh. He closed his eyes tightly, pushing the memory to the back of his mind, where it belonged. Once again, he could feel a fluttering of anger begin to spread up from his belly toward his chest.

  “Nasty vicious bugger,” he muttered out loud. His thoughts immediately went to Jake, and the bruises he had seen on the boy’s arm earlier that day. “You poor little sod; you really don’t realise the danger you’re in.”

  There and then, Sadie vowed to keep an eye on the comings and goings of Jake and Ronald Browning a lot more closely.

  * * *

  Gary Carter looked around him, before pushing open the door to a wine bar in Brentwood, Essex. It didn’t take him long to spot a man and woman sat at a table toward the back of the premises. He made his way forward, his eyes flickering around him nervously as he did so. The last thing he needed was to be seen in the presence of Bethany Johnson.

  “Bethany.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and the sweet scent of her perfume hit his nostrils. In the twenty years since he’d first seen her, she had hardly changed at all. Still, her startling green eyes were able to bear into his with the same intensity that they always had. “You look well,” he said, sliding into the booth opposite her. His stomach began to turn somersaults, as it often did whenever he was in her company.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  Gary tore his eyes away from the only woman he had ever loved, to look across at his son. As always, he sat dutifully beside his mother. “Cameron.”

  “Drink?” Bethany enquired. She snapped her fingers at the barman and looked toward Gary expectantly, her eyebrows arched.

  “Brandy.” Gary looked up at the barman. “No ice,” he instructed.

  “And a white wine and soda for me.” Bethany flashed a wide smile.

  Once their drinks had been placed before them, Bethany got down to business. “Well, do you have an answer? I’ve given you enough time to think it over.”

  Blowing out his cheeks, Gary shook his head. The truth of the matter was, he was in two minds. As much as he loathed his brother, Tommy was still just that, his brother. “I still don’t know,” he finally answered.

  Bethany smiled gently. She knew Gary was weak. She also knew how easily she could manipulate him, and so, she pressed further. “Our son,” she said, flicking her hand toward Cameron, “has lived his entire life without his father, or his father’s family around him. Tommy was to blame for that. Look at him,” she said, grasping hold of her son’s face and turning it toward Gary. “Your own flesh and blood. He should have been born a Carter, he is a Carter. Your son, your only child, Gary, and he was pushed out onto the scrap heap, as though he was nothing. And who was to blame for that?” She spread out her arms. “Tommy.”

  Gary pursed his lips. He could see her point, but at the time, he’d hardly been in a position to do anything about the situation. He’d only just turned seventeen when Cameron had been conceived. He was still only a kid himself, yet still, he blamed himself. He should have stood up to his brother. He should have stepped up and been a father.

  Bethany took a sip of her wine, and as if reading his mind, she continued, her voice gentle. “None of that was your fault, Gary. It was your brother who was to blame.” She smiled across at Gary. “I loved you. I thought we were going to be a family: you, me, and our son. It was Tommy who drove me away. You remember that day as well as I do. It’s ingrained up here.” She tapped her temple and allowed her words to sink in, bef
ore reaching out to touch his hand. “You know what I’m saying is true. Look at our son, Gary. He should have been born a Carter, as was his right, and your brother denied him that.”

  Gary turned to look at Cameron, and his heart constricted inside his chest. For years, he’d hadn’t even known the boy had existed. It was Tommy who had told him the child had been aborted. Yet another lie. “Okay,” he finally answered. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good.” Bethany flashed a wide smile. “It should be you and our son running Tommy’s businesses. He owes you that much. He owes both of you.” She grasped hold of both Cameron’s and Gary’s hands. “And together, we are going to take them.”

  Gary nodded his head. He conveniently let slip from his mind that after his eldest brother’s demise, they still had his four other brothers, and not to mention Tommy’s own two sons, to get through first.

  * * *

  Ronald Browning was sweating profusely. He replaced the telephone receiver back onto its cradle and wiped his fingers across his clammy brow. Immediately, he flicked through his address book and picked up the telephone for a second time. His hand shook as he dialled a number.

  “It’s Ronald,” he said into the phone, his breath coming in short little bursts. “Ronald Browning. Yes, I know that you are due in court within the hour.” He gritted his teeth, irritated. “Yes, I know that, but we need to meet up. It’s imperative that I speak to you in person. I have it on good authority that questions are being asked, and it’s only a matter of time before those questions lead to us.”

  He listened intently to what was being said and nodded his head before ending the call. Standing up, Ronald crossed over his office and came to stand beside the window. He looked out across the cobbled courtyard below, his beady eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary, not that he knew exactly what he was looking for.

  He had no idea which cars should or shouldn’t be parked there. He watched as a silver BMW pulled into the courtyard, and held his breath as he waited to see who the occupants were. In his mind’s eye, he quickly devised an escape route, should he not like the look of the person or persons who climbed out.

  His heart was in his mouth as Ronald stood as still as a statue whilst he waited. “Come on,” he mumbled underneath his breath. “Get out of the car.” He sighed with relief to see that the source of his panic, was Derek, who worked in the accounts department, situated on the floor directly underneath.

  Wandering back to his desk, Ronald sat down. He steepled his fingers in front of him, deep in thought. He wished now that he’d never gotten involved with the men, any of them. He should have known better than to trust them, especially Freddie Smith, a known criminal.

  His thoughts immediately wandered to Jake. He would need to keep him quiet, because the boy knew too much. All it would take was one word from him, and his cover would be blown. Ronald looked around him at the plush office suite of the law firm he was a partner of. He didn’t train for six years at law school, and then work his way to the top for nothing. Yes, he decided, he would have to do something about the boy.

  He picked up the telephone once again and dialled a number. “Jake, my darling. Dinner tonight, my treat.”

  With a satisfied grin, Ronald replaced the receiver. He mopped his sweating brow with a white handkerchief. Yes, he would have to do something about the boy.

  * * *

  Jake Carter turned over on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His stomach felt as though it were tied up in knots. He didn’t want to go to the club in Soho anymore, and he didn’t want to see Ronald ever again. He bit down on his bottom lip. He wished he’d never met the kid now, Lewis something or other, he’d said his name was. Liam was right when he’d said there was something dodgy about him, and that he couldn’t be trusted.

  He wanted to curse himself for his stupidity. He should have taken heed of his brother’s warning, that’s what he should have done. It was Lewis who had taken him to the club in Soho to meet the big man who frightened him so much.

  He could still recall bumping into Lewis when he’d gone out for the evening to play snooker. He’d been impressed at what a good player he was, and it was this which had initially made him strike up a conversation with the boy. He wished now that he’d never gone out that night.

  “Jake, are you awake?” Stacey tapped lightly on the door.

  Jake closed his eyes and turned onto his side, facing the wall. As much as he loved his mum, he didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want her to know what he was, and so he pretended to still be asleep.

  Opening the door, Stacey poked her head around. “Jake,” she repeated. “Are you awake, darling?” When she received no reply, she walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her hand snaked out and pushed the hair away from her son’s eyes. “Oh, Jake,” she sighed. She adjusted the duvet around her son, about to cover him up, when she gasped at the sight of the bruises on his arm.

  “Jake?” She nudged him awake, her eyes filled with alarm. “How did you get these bruises?” she demanded.

  Turning over to face his mother, Jake opened his eyes. “I had too much to drink and fell over.”

  Stacey pursed her lips together as she thought through her son’s explanation. “Okay,” she finally answered. “Well, you need to get up. Your dad wants to have a chat with you. He’ll be home from work soon. And don’t forget, we’ve got everyone coming over tonight for your nan’s birthday party.”

  “I’m going out tonight.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to cancel your plans. All of the family are coming over, and your nan will be upset if you’re not here.”

  Jake groaned. “Mum, I just told you, I’ve got plans.” He threw the duvet away from him, swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “I can’t just cancel them, can I?”

  “Well, you’ll bleeding well have to, won’t you? And you’d best change your attitude before your dad gets in an’ all,” she added as an afterthought. Knowing full well her husband had a short temper at the best of times, and coupled with the mood he was in when he left for work just that morning, her Tommy could very well end up swinging for Jake if he started getting cocky.

  Jake sighed. “What does he want with me anyway?”

  “He’s worried about you.”

  “Well, he doesn’t need to worry about me. I’m eighteen, not a little kid.”

  Stacey smiled gently. “You’re right you are eighteen, but you’re also still our son, and your dad’s worried.”

  “Is this about my hair again?” Jake rolled his eyes.

  “Amongst other things.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He took a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit up.

  Stunned, Stacey stared at her son. She hadn’t even known that he smoked. “Since when did you start smoking? And you know the rules, no smoking in the house. Even your dad has to go out to the garden.”

  Jake gave a bitter laugh. He stubbed the cigarette out on the lid of a coke can and stood up, hastily dressing. “Like I said, Mum, I’m going out.”

  The front door slamming closed, saved Stacey from answering. She stabbed her finger toward her son. “Don’t antagonise him,” she warned. “You know what he’s like.”

  * * *

  Tommy threw his car keys onto the marble kitchen worktop. “Stace, I’m home,” he shouted out. He looked around the kitchen. He could see his wife had been busy preparing the food for his mum’s sixtieth birthday party, and he smiled to himself. Plates of sausage rolls, quiches, and ham sandwiches covered over with tin foil littered every available surface. She was a diamond, his Stace was.

  “Tommy.” Stacey planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek, then nodded her head toward the staircase. “Jake’s home. I’ve had a word with him and told him he’s stopping in tonight for your mum’s party.”

  Rubbing his hand across the dark stubble covering his jawline, Tommy sighed. “What’s he had to say for himself?”

  “Nothing much.” Stace
y shrugged her shoulders. “Go easy on him,” she said catching hold of her husband’s hand. “Please, Tommy, don’t be too hard on him.” She lowered her voice and whispered. “If he is on drugs, he needs our help.”

  “We haven’t been hard enough on him, Stace. Let’s face it, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He raised his eyebrows toward his wife, then bellowed out his youngest son’s name. “Jake, get down here, now.” His voice broke no arguments, and within seconds, they could hear Jake padding down the stairs.

  “What?”

  “What?” Tommy repeated back his son’s words, his voice taking on an incredulous tone. “Where the fuck are your manners for a start?”

  Resisting the urge not to roll his eyes, Jake flicked his dark hair out of his eyes and held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Dad, what is it you want?”

  “I wanna know where you’ve been going every night, and who you’ve been hanging around with, for a start.” Tommy stared at his son. This boy, whom he loved with every ounce of his being, was beginning to look more and more like a girl with each passing day. “And I want to know what drugs you’ve been taking, and who the fuck is supplying them to you.”

  Jake’s mouth fell open. “What?” he stammered. “What drugs? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Other than the pills Ronald gave him at the club, he took no other drugs.

  With his fist clenched into a tight ball, Tommy pounced forward. He’d had just about enough of his son’s attitude and lies. “I’m warning you now, you’d better start talking, boy, and fast.”

  A shiver of fear ran down Jake’s spine. He sprang backwards, cowering from his father. Did they know about the Soho club, Ronald, and the other men? “Honest, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stuttered.