by Martina Cole
They talked about the future for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Eventually, Lorna said happily, ‘How was your day, darling?’
Laughing gaily, Angus kissed the tip of her nose, before saying cheekily, ‘It was fucking murder, darling.’
Lorna grinned contentedly as they lay together and discussed her chosen girl’s name, because, like her husband, she was convinced that was what she was carrying.
That would be the icing on her already fabulous cake.
Book Four
2000
Husbands, love your wives, and be not bitter against them.
Colossians 3:19
Chapter Eighty
‘You were out of control, Angus, and that is not acceptable.’
Angus shrugged off the criticism in his usual angry way. ‘Just shut the fuck up, will you, Roy? You can be like an old woman at times.’
Roy could feel the swell of anger inside him, and swallowed it down. When Angus was out of it like this he was wasting his time. The trouble was, Angus was out of it a lot recently, and it was becoming a real problem – not just for Angus but for everyone around him. He was losing control but couldn’t see that there was anything even remotely wrong with his behaviour.
He had been steadily going downhill for the last few months and Roy, for the life of him, couldn’t pinpoint why. It was like he woke up one morning and decided to become a grade-A cunt and wreck everything he had ever worked for. Everything they had all worked for. There were more than a few people who were complaining about him and his actions, and a lot of them worked with them or for them – that was the real worry.
If Diana didn’t take the fucker in hand, they would have a mutiny to deal with. But she was leaving more and more to Gabriel lately, and that in itself wasn’t a problem – he was trustworthy, one of the genuine good guys really. However, Gabriel had no say over Angus. Only his mother had that, and even her influence wasn’t as great as it once was.
There was definitely something going on, but Roy couldn’t seem to get to the bottom of it. Maybe Angus was having a mid-life crisis. Who fucking knew anything about what was ailing him? Maybe that wife of his had an inkling. But then, if she knew, she wouldn’t say anything anyway. She wasn’t exactly the friendliest of people at the best of times, and having a conversation with her was like extracting blood from the proverbial stone. She made her feelings quite plain about what she thought of anyone who worked with her husband.
He had no choice. He had to try and talk to Diana again, and hope that this time she listened to him.
Chapter Eighty-one
Jenny Marshal was pretty enough but her real assets were her hair, which was long, thick and lustrous, and her perfectly shaped legs.
She had something about her that spoke to a certain type of man, and she had accepted that from when she was fourteen years old. She attracted the Faces: the violent men, the ones who seemed to stand out from the crowd, like she did. She enjoyed the notoriety and she loved the unpredictability that surrounded them. Luckily for them, she was as attracted to them as they were enamoured of her. It was a perfect storm.
But now, at twenty years old, she had claimed herself a prize – and she wasn’t going to let this one go. Angus Davis was not only her type of man but he was good-looking to boot – and that did make a change, she had to admit.
Most of the men she wanted weren’t exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer. He was older than her – not that that was unusual – but he had a great youthfulness about him, and he was lots of fun. He was good in bed too – and that alone was a touch, as far as she was concerned – he had a bit of staying power. Her last one was abominable, she had been vaccinated slower! But oh, she had loved being seen with him and travelling to Spain and Portugal on holidays. He had been generous as well, and that always went a long way with her.
She couldn’t abide mean men – well, men who were mean with money anyway. She liked a bit of a temper, and she enjoyed making them jealous to see how they reacted. She equated jealousy with love and, if they were rough with her, she found it strangely exciting as well as frightening. She loved to elicit that response from them; it gave her a feeling of power, of being in charge somehow. That it was the only power she had didn’t occur to her. She didn’t think about the future. Like most of her ilk, she just wanted a child and a guaranteed earn for the duration.
She was aware, though, that Angus wasn’t exactly stable these days, and that did give her food for thought. But she was sure enough of her charms to believe that she was still on top. Which, after all, was Angus Davis’s preferred position!
Like many others before her, Jenny Marshal believed that she had the magic touch to get Angus away from that boring wife of his.
Chapter Eighty-two
Diana was feeling tired again. She had planned to spend the day on her large, comfortable couch watching crap and eating toasted sandwiches, which she would wash down with endless cups of hot, sweet tea.
Her priorities had changed drastically over the last few years. She wasn’t interested in anything new business-wise any more and, far from letting it bother her, she had decided to embrace the feeling. She wasn’t exactly a spring chicken – she was getting more aware of that fact by the day. But she would never admit to her real age, even if her life depended on it, and she felt she still looked good, considering she wasn’t a girl any more.
The one thing she loved about Gabriel was that he never saw her as any different to how she looked when they first met. Oh, she knew he took the occasional flier, but that behaviour had never particularly bothered her. If he was to see them on a regular basis then it would be cause for aggravation. But the odd lapse she could cope with – after all, she had been guilty of that behaviour herself over the years. It was just sex, and that had nothing to do with the life they shared.
She had seen too many relationships go down the pan because of infidelity, and she believed it was a natural part of human nature to seek out the occasional strange. Survival of the fittest and all that. But these days she was happy to leave the businesses in Gabriel’s capable hands. It was something she’d sworn she’d never do but, over the years, with Gabe beside her constantly, she came to realise he was good at what he did, and she trusted him with her life. He was on his way now with Roy – who was not himself at the moment because of Angus and his latest escapades.
She knew what he was going to say and how she was going to answer him. She was going to go to the root of the problem, and sort it from there – not that she would tell any of them that, of course.
It paid to keep your own counsel at times like this. Knowledge was power, as the old saying went.
It was trite but fucking true.
Chapter Eighty-three
Lorna Davis was miserable, and that meant so was everyone else around her.
When she was unhappy, it was serious, and it meant that they all walked on eggshells around her until she was ready to once more bring them into her embrace. She was a woman who wouldn’t take any shit off anyone – and that included her husband and family.
Lorna Davis had made a point of being a law unto herself, and that was something she took great pride in. She ran her household with precision and she made sure that her perfect family – her two handsome sons, gorgeous daughter and her beloved husband – had everything that they needed, provided they didn’t go against her and what she deemed as acceptable behaviour. They all knew to toe the line, because it wasn’t worth the aggravation she was capable of causing if they happened to upset her.
She prided herself on doing what was necessary for her family’s well-being. Because that was all she really cared about: her family and her children having the best that life could offer them. Her Angus wasn’t exactly a fucking saint, but he had always known how far he could push her. He had given her food for thought over the years, and she knew that he was always sorry for his actions, but now he had truly fucked up.
This time she was angr
y, really angry. She wasn’t a fool – there was a line that could not be crossed. Her husband and his latest trollop had more than crossed that Maginot Line.
She was so furious with him that she couldn’t breathe or think straight; it was like she was in the grip of a fever. She grasped for her pills and swallowed a handful. She had given her husband a lot of leeway over the years, and she had tried to understand that he needed other women. She had turned a blind eye over and over again, so she was within her rights to read him the riot act for this latest debacle and she would dare him to argue with her.
He was dead in the fucking water. She wasn’t scared of him, she never had been. All that shit in the papers about him being dangerous and a big criminal, and the speculation surrounding him? None of it bothered her because she knew that she was the only person – after his mother – who he really cared for.
He was scared of losing her respect. That had always been her trump card. She had never once put a foot wrong, she knew her own worth, and she wasn’t about to see that drop in his estimation, let alone hers.
Angus knew exactly what she was capable of, if pushed, and she was relying on that to make Angus do what was right. Because he wasn’t in his right mind lately; the coke had taken him over, and she was more than aware of that fact.
She was a lot of things but a mug wasn’t one of them. She was so offended by his behaviour, she wasn’t sure herself if she could forgive him. Until now, nothing he had done had ever given her reason to doubt him – murder, torture, that went on in a different world as far as she was concerned. It was his work, his job. Her life was blameless, and she knew that, as did Angus and the Filth.
But this latest escapade, with a tart who thought she could actually remove him from his family and home – and who was telling that to anyone who would listen – was beyond the pale. Lorna wasn’t about to let her reputation be sullied by anyone.
This was war, and it was a war Lorna Davis was going to win.
Chapter Eighty-four
Angus was still sobering up, and he wasn’t impressed that his mother and Gabriel were determined to talk with him.
He was well aware of what she was going to say to him – he wasn’t a fucking moron. Deep down, he knew that she had every right to say it too. The fact that his old mum was bothering to travel all the way out to Brentwood was enough to warn him that it was serious. She wouldn’t move out of her drum these days unless there was a dangerous gas leak. She had finally taken a step back from the businesses – and good luck to her.
She deserved to have her own time. Christ knew, she had worked hard enough all her life! Angus thought the world of Gabriel, and he trusted that he would look out for his mother’s interests, as he always had done. He was thrilled to see her finally taking some time for herself. He knew that she was tired of it all.
She kept her hand in, and her name was still synonymous with villainy, even though no one could actually prove it. She had taught him well, and that was why he was so successful in his own businesses.
He had just opened this new nightclub called Wraps, in Brentwood, and it was already a big success. He had a great DJ and an A-list clientele. The VIP bar was open to actors, footballers and the best-looking girls and boys. His spaces were sought after because of his reputation, and the fact that the papers were all over him like a rash.
His clubs were the places to be, and people came in droves from all over to say they had experienced them. He made sure that they were given a very warm welcome. To come to one of his venues was the stuff dreams were made of. He was already in talks to open a club in Manchester, and it was sure to be another huge Angus Davis success.
He made sure that he showed his face often enough for people to feel like they knew him – that was part of the experience and what made it special. The red-top papers were always on hand to photograph him and his guests. He had an innate skill for how to market his products for the maximum benefit.
Angus could live off his clubs quite easily, but he was happier chasing the real dollars, and they didn’t come from strobe lighting and leather sofas. But he loved the kudos of the clubs, and the level of safety they afforded him when he was questioned about his lifestyle.
He’d put Mandy’s talent to good use in his back offices years ago – kept on the down low from Lorna, of course – and she hadn’t let him down yet. Her bookkeeping was immaculate, and she never forgot an earn. He kept every receipt for everything he owned – from TVs to his antiques to his cars – he was completely legitimate. He loved that the Filth and the Inland Revenue couldn’t prove any different, no matter how hard they tried. He was basically putting up two fingers to the powers-that-be, and the more they tried to catch him out, the more he was determined to prove them wrong.
It was a game that he enjoyed playing, because he knew that he was going to win. He paid his VAT and his taxes at the very last minute, because that was also part of the game now. He made a big song and dance about it, and he queried everything with his accountants, who knew that their job was to give the taxman as much aggravation and provocation as possible – and they did that for him with gusto and a sneaky smile.
He had always made sure that he covered every angle and, until now, he had succeeded. But the last few months, he had pretty much dropped the ball, and he knew that he had to hold his hand up and admit his foolishness. He might have made a certain female think that she was of more importance than she was.
It all started when Angus began to feel that his life, which he had thought was blessed, wasn’t as great as he might have believed. He was pushing forty, and he felt that there was something missing – something that he wanted that was just out of his reach. He only wished he knew what the fuck it was. Because it certainly wasn’t Jenny fucking Marshal. She was a slapper with hopes of the big time. Well, good luck with that, darling.
He sat in the offices that were as luxurious as the rest of the club, sipping his usual Jameson’s and wondering what the fuck was wrong with him and why he wasn’t content with his life any more. He still loved Lorna with all his heart – she would always be the only woman for him, that was a definite. But there was undeniably something missing, and he couldn’t shake that feeling off.
It bothered him. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what the next day would bring.
That was perfectly OK in his work life – in fact, it was a big part of the excitement, of the buzz – but where his personal life was concerned, this was a first.
Chapter Eighty-five
Jenny was in the toilets of Wraps nightclub. She was looking at herself, as usual, with a smug but critical eye.
She had dressed carefully for this evening’s entertainment, making sure she looked spectacular. She had seen in the eyes of the bouncers as she had walked in the door that she had pulled it off. The club wasn’t open for a few hours, and the fact they had let her in without a word told her that she had already made her mark. Well, that was what she had worked for, so she was pleased with the treatment she had received. They had not allowed her up to the offices, though, and that rankled, but she had asked them to tell Angus that she was here.
She put another layer of Pomegranate Crush on her lips and then ran a natural lip gloss over the top to maximise the look. She was still admiring herself when she heard the door open. She didn’t take much notice, because she was too busy making sure that her make-up was perfect. She had huge eyes that were a deep blue, and she emphasised them with a kohl pencil that really made them stand out.
She understood make-up – it had been her hobby since she had been twelve years old – and she loved to experiment with it. She could actually have worked in the beauty industry, if she had been that way inclined; it was as natural to her as breathing. But working for a living wasn’t on her agenda. She was quite happy to be kept and cosseted – and used, if she was completely honest. Her idea of working was keeping a man interested so that he paid her bills and made sure she was taken care of. She saw men as a wage
, as a means to an end; she had what they wanted, and she would make sure that they paid for it. Quid pro quo, as her mother used to say, whatever the fuck that meant.
She stood back from the mirror and pulled down the tight black dress that only just covered her modesty, and she was smiling at herself when the pint glass hit her in the face. She couldn’t understand for a few moments what was happening. Then she felt the glass hit her again, and she saw blood everywhere.
She dropped to her knees and instinctively covered her face and head as the glass hit her again and again. She could feel a flap of skin hanging down and touching her neck, and knew that it was her cheek. That’s when the screaming started. She passed out on the floor as the toilets were suddenly filled with huge men in black suits.
The bouncers were in absolute shock but they grabbed Lorna Davis and held her down on the floor until Angus arrived on the scene. It was fucking bedlam, and no one knew what the fuck they were supposed to do for the best.
They were there to prevent fights, not deal with the boss’s wife on a murder spree.
Lorna was still fighting them when Angus knocked her out with one punch.
Chapter Eighty-six
Diana looked at her son sadly. She honestly couldn’t understand how he hadn’t seen this coming.
Diana had never kidded herself about Lorna’s obsession – and that obsession was her husband. She was dangerous where he was concerned; she didn’t even like his relationship with her, his own mother.
