by Kerry Kaya
“Hi again, Rita,” he smiled.
Brushing crumbs from her tabard, Rita quickly chewed, then swallowed down the mouthful of crisps she had stuffed into her mouth. “How can I help you?” she asked. “Did you find your niece?”
“Afraid not.” Jimmy gave her a smile. “I was just wondering if you knew what time the café closed?”
Rita looked up at the clock on the wall. “Shuts at six. You’ve got roughly twenty-five minutes left to go, if you’re hungry,” she said, glancing longingly at the crisp packet clutched in her fist.
“Cheers, Rita. You’re a star.” He nodded his head toward the packet. “I’ll leave you to carry on eating in peace. Thanks for your help.”
Before he had even walked across the shop floor, Rita had shovelled another handful of crisps into her mouth. “Anytime,” she called out.
He made his way back outside, hurried across the road to his car, and climbed inside, not taking his eyes off of the café. He didn’t want to scare her off, he decided. No, he would wait until the shop closed for the night, and then speak to her.
* * *
Bethany could barely contain her excitement. Just four days to go, and she would get her hands on the businesses … Tommy’s businesses. She hugged her knees to her chest, smiling. All along, they should have belonged to her … to her and Tommy. She should have been his wife. It should have been her and him together … making their empire.
She turned to look at the lounge door. So wrapped up in herself and her evil scheming, she hadn’t heard Gary pull up onto the drive. He took a seat on the sofa beside her, and for just a moment, she pretended it was Tommy. After all, the two brothers looked so alike, until Gary opened his mouth and spoke, that was.
“Jimmy’s gone AWOL.”
She kicked her legs from underneath her and sat up straight. “What do you mean, he’s gone AWOL? Where is he?”
Gary shrugged his shoulders. “He’s gone away for a few days and no one knows where.” He rubbed his hand across his jaw and turned to look at her. “I’ve tried calling him and he isn’t picking up.”
Jumping up from the sofa, she began to shout. “What does this mean for us?” She stabbed her finger forward as she paced the floor. “What if he doesn’t come back, Gary? Everything is in place.” Her voice began to rise. “All of our plans will be ruined.”
“He will come back.” Gary put out his hand to placate her. “He has to.”
“Says who?” she roared.
“It was his idea to do the job, so it stands to reason that he’ll be back to carry it through.”
Despite his words, she could see a slither of worry in Gary’s eyes. “I knew this would happen; I knew it would all go wrong.” She turned to look at him. “I blame you for this; it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?” Gary’s mouth fell open. “How is it my fault?”
“Because,” she spat, giving him a cold stare, “you’re not Tommy. He would have made sure our plans worked.”
Gary’s heart sank, and he looked up at her, feeling dejected. She may as well have kicked him in the chest. So acute was the pain he felt at the use of her comparing him to his brother.
“I’m sorry,” she said, flopping down on the sofa. “I didn’t mean that.” She took in his crest-fallen face and swallowed down the irritation she felt. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she spoke in a low growl. “Keep calling him. He’ll have to answer at some point.”
* * *
Karen had just finished wiping down her last table. With the cloth in one hand and the spray bottle of bleach in the other, she cast her eyes across her handiwork. Satisfied that the tables were spotless, she glanced up at the clock on the wall. Just five more minutes to go, and then she was free to leave the hell-hole, as she had nicknamed the café.
She looked across to the counter, saw Marco leering over her body, and quickly averted her eyes. He made her feel physically sick. She returned the cloth and spray bottle underneath the sink and looked up at the clock once more. Just one more minute to go.
She knew from experience there was no point asking if she could leave early. Maria would flatly refuse to let her go until it was dead-on six. In her mind, she began to count down the seconds.
Finally, it was time to leave. “Is it okay to go now?” she called out to Maria.
Maria looked up at the clock. “Has everything been cleaned?” she asked, stalling for time.
“Yes.” Karen nodded her head.
“Go on then, and don’t be late tomorrow.”
“I wasn’t late today,” she muttered underneath her breath.
“What was that you said?” Maria’s shrill voice called after her.
Karen spun around and smiled sweetly. “Nothing.”
She collected her coat and handbag, and as quickly as she could, walked outside. The cold night air hit her as soon as she opened the door, not that she minded. After spending the entire day in the stifling hot café, she was glad to feel the cold wind blow across her skin.
Breathing in a lungful of fresh air, Karen slipped on her coat, and pulled the thick material around her body. She began to walk along the pavement, blissfully unaware that her uncle was sat inside his car, just feet away from her, watching her every move.
* * *
Slipping his mobile phone inside his jacket pocket, Jimmy watched as his niece excited the café. He pulled on the door handle and was about to step out of the car, when he saw a heavy-set, hooded male figure follow her out of the premises. He closed the door slightly, afraid that she would turn around and spot him. Instead, she carried on walking.
He climbed out of the car, and after hastily locking the driver’s door, he began to follow. Up ahead, oblivious to the fact that she was being followed, Karen slowed down her pace, came to a halt, and delved her hand inside her handbag as though she were searching for something.
Much to Jimmy’s surprise, the male who had followed her out of the café also slowed down his pace before darting behind a privet hedge, hidden out of sight. Jimmy narrowed his eyes. He watched as the male peeped his head around the bush. Something didn’t feel right about this.
After an age, she continued on her journey, turned a corner, crossed over the road, and began to make her way down a street with rundown terraced houses on either side. Still, the hooded male followed.
From a safe distance, Jimmy continued to watch. She stopped outside a particularly run-down semi-detached house and he hung back slightly, not wanting to get too close, and more than anything, not wanting to alert her to the fact that he was there. The last thing he wanted was to make her run away for a second time.
* * *
Holding her front door keys in her hand, Karen spun around. “Just go away,” she snapped. She was no fool. She knew that Marco followed her home most nights. “I’m not interested, Marco.”
Marco stepped closer and rested his hand on the wooden gate. The peeling paintwork was rough underneath his palm.
“I only want to talk.” His voice had a whining tone to it, reminding her of a child. Only Marco was no child. He was a fully-grown mummy’s boy, used to getting his own way.
“You’ve had all day to talk to me.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”
“Just for five minutes, and then I’ll go.”
“No, Marco.” She turned toward the front door, slipped her key in the lock and twisted it open. “Just go home,” she said as she stepped over the pile of letters and junk mail that had been left on the flimsy leather-backed scrap of material that was used as a doormat. Without saying another word, she proceeded to slam the door closed.
* * *
Left standing outside on the pavement, Marco scowled. The stuck-up bitch really thought she was something special.
He lit a cigarette and sucked on it hard. Above his head, a hazy cloud of cigarette smoke wafted downwards. In the darkness, the red embers from his cigarette glowed with every short angry puff he took. He flicked
the butt to the floor and continued to stare up at the house.
In his pocket, he had concealed the knife and he caressed the handle, enjoying the feel of the cool stainless steel against his skin.
He looked up and down the desolate street, pulled the hood farther over his head, ensuring his face was covered, and in a casual manner, began to move forward. The alleyway at the side of the street was empty, just as he had known it would be, and he crept closer to the wall of the neighbouring house. Casually, he leaned against it, just listening. There was nothing but silence.
His breath came in short bursts. The anticipation of what was to come spurned him on. Finally, it was time. He moved his head from left to right, and then without hesitation, he ran toward the six-foot garden wall. His fingertips gripped onto the ledge, and his trainers kicked out at the brickwork, as he heaved his heavy frame upwards. Slinging his legs across the top of the wall, he pushed himself over, and landed on the concrete slabs below him with a heavy thud.
He looked around him and smiled. As always, the farthest ground-floor window had been left slightly ajar. He pushed his fingers through the tiny gap, grappled for the lever, released it, and then slowly pushed the window wide open.
It wasn’t as easy climbing through the window as it had been hauling himself over the wall. He looked around for something he could stand on, and picked up a rickety wooden stool. The stool wobbled underneath his weight, and he gripped tightly onto the window ledge to steady himself. Ever so carefully, he navigated his way through the window, careful not to topple any of the items left lying around on the window sill or bathroom sink that sat directly below.
Finally, he was inside the house, and he listened for a moment, checking that the coast was clear, before reaching for the door handle. All he had to do now was locate which room belonged to her. He presumed correctly that the room directly beside the bathroom was hers, and as he stepped out into the hallway, he waited for a moment, before resting his hand on the door handle, and then ever so slowly, he pulled it downwards.
* * *
Having watched the exchange between his niece and the hooded male, Jimmy crossed the road and looked up at the house. Almost every light was on. He could hear the faint strings of a guitar being played, and could hear the sound of laughter wafting down from an upstairs room. He peered into the unkempt garden. Discarded takeaway containers had been flung carelessly beside an overflowing metal waste bin. He shook his head. What the fuck was she doing living in a shit-hole like this?
As an afterthought, he walked to the side of the house, checking that the hooded male wasn’t still hanging around. The alleyway was empty.
He moved back around to the front of the house, walked through the open gate and made his way down the weed-ridden uneven pathway. He was done playing games. He needed answers from his niece, and he wanted them now.
* * *
After kicking off her shoes and placing them neatly beside the bedside cabinet, Karen shrugged off her coat and placed it on a metal hanger inside the rickety wardrobe. She opened the chest of drawers, took out her pyjamas and placed them beside her washbag and bath towel on top of the bed.
She rummaged around for her toothbrush, and after finally locating it, she gathered up her belongings. What she needed was a nice hot shower and then to fall into bed. She felt so tired, she could sleep for England.
The rattling of the door handle caused her to spin around in alarm. It rattled a second time, and she took a step closer to the door. “Who’s there?” she called out. There was nothing but silence.
A loud tapping upon the wooden door almost made her jump out of her skin. “Who’s there?” Once again, silence.
Inwardly, she groaned and moved across the room. Just lately the young woman in the neighbouring room had waited for her to come home from work, and then knocked on her door, wanting to borrow something, usually the odd pound coin or some milk.
If truth were told, she was growing sick and tired of it. She didn’t work her fingers to the bone, day in and day out, just to give her hard-earned belongings away. Her fingers reached out to touch the handle. “I don’t have any milk today, sorry,” she said, as she began to slide the heavy bolt across.
The door burst open, knocking her backwards. It all happened so fast, that she could barely breath, let alone think. A hooded figure rushed toward her. They had found her; her uncles must have found her. She cowered on the floor, and curling herself into a ball, she let out a blood curdling scream.
* * *
Jimmy had been just about to bang his heavy fist on the front door, when he heard the scream. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end, and without pausing, he kicked out at the wooden door. It took just three attempts before it flung open, leaving shards of splintered wood in its wake. He barged his way down a dimly lit corridor. The carpet was threadbare beneath his heavy boots. He would recognise the voice anywhere; it was his niece, Karen.
He could hear a commotion coming from the far end of the corridor, and at the top of his voice, he called out her name. “Karen.”
Doors opened, and residents hung their heads out. “What’s going on?” they asked.
Jimmy dismissed them and continued to make his way down the hallway.
* * *
Frozen with fear, Karen could smell the unmistakable, repugnant, overwhelming stench of body odour, and stale cigarette smoke. In an instant, she knew exactly who her attacker was … Marco.
She could feel his rough hands pawing at her sweater, and bucked her body from underneath him. “Get off me,” she screamed.
Marco ignored her protests. He gave her a sly grin, pulled the knife from his jacket pocket, and waved it around in front of her face. “Make me.”
The figure that pulled him off was so strong that he was thrown bodily up against the wall. With his hooded sweatshirt clutched tightly in the assailant’s fist, punch after punch, blows rained down upon him.
Winded by a blow to his stomach, he doubled over in pain and could only groan even louder, as a knee jerked upwards, catching him underneath his chin. He was seeing stars. A second knee jerk caused him to collapse unconscious on the floor.
* * *
Karen scrambled backwards; her eyes were wide with fear as she trembled. It was her Uncle Jimmy. How had he found her? She became hysterical. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
Kicking the knife underneath the wardrobe far out of reach, Jimmy turned to look at his niece. He could see the fear she felt in her eyes, and not for the first time, asked himself what the fuck was going on. First Jake, and now Karen. He had never done anything to hurt either of them, or had he ever shown any form of aggression. In fact, he had barely even had to raise his voice toward them over the years.
He held out his hand and inched his way forward. “Don’t be scared, darling,” he soothed. “I’ve come to help you.”
“No!” Karen scrambled backwards even farther. She screwed her eyes shut, too afraid to even look at him. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she repeated. “I won’t tell anyone! I swear I won’t say anything.”
He gripped hold of her upper arms. “Look at me,” he pleaded. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She opened her eyes and blinked up at him. He kept hold of his grip for a moment, then released her. He couldn’t, for the life of him, work out what was going on, or why his appearance had had such an effect on her. Whatever it was, she was clearly terrified. Slowly, he turned his head to look down at Marco’s lifeless body, thankful for the distraction. “Who the fuck is this?”
Karen swallowed deeply before answering, her voice a mere whisper. “Marco, my boss’s son.”
Jimmy raised his eyebrows, yet said nothing. He opened the door wide, pointed his finger at his niece, warning her not to attempt to bolt out of the room, then looped his hands underneath Marco’s armpits and dragged the unconscious man out to the hallway, before unceremoniously dropping him to the floor.
He contemplated giving him a swift kick to the he
ad. Instead, and against his better judgement, he gave him one last glance, stepped over his body and looked across to the residents who were standing huddled together in a group at the far end of the corridor.
“Show’s over,” he stated, before making his way back into his niece’s room and gently closing the door.
He took a moment to look around him at the squalor she had been living in. He saw her shoes neatly placed beside the bedside cabinet, and her few belongings placed orderly side-by-side on top of the chest of drawers, and his heart went out to her. “What’s going on, darling?”
The gentleness in his voice threw her, and bringing her hands up to her face, she promptly burst out into tears.
“Hey, come on now.” He crouched down beside her and pulled her into his arms. He felt her body stiffen and he held on even tighter. “Speak to me,” he pleaded.
* * *
Karen was unable to stop her body from shaking. She sobbed her heart out, feeling absolutely terrified. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged. Her voice cracked with emotion.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He released her and held her at arm’s length. “Why would you even think that?”
She didn’t answer; she was too terrified, too choked-up to speak. She looked up at the face that looked so like her dad’s, and wanted to cry even harder.
Jimmy pulled her into his arms a second time. He stroked her back, allowing her to cry, allowing her to get it all out of her system. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
