Lord of London Town

by Tillie Cole

  I was remaining hidden. The police were still on the hunt for me. Arthur refused to let me out of the church unless it was by his side. My attackers hadn’t been found, and we were no closer to finding out who they were.

  I didn’t want to leave the church anyway. It had become my haven.

  Tonight, Gene Mason returned. I had never met him. He was Vera and Eric’s younger brother. Arthur hadn’t been particularly forthcoming when it came to the boy. Just that he had been away at a private facility. Vera had explained to me that her twenty-year-old brother had many demons, depression being top of that list. His stint in rehab was over with, and I knew Arthur wanted him home anyhow. The attacks on his ships and transport hadn’t ceased, and he was becoming more agitated the more answers evaded him.

  Arthur loved his family like nothing I had ever known. He worked night and day to keep them safe. He didn’t speak it plainly, but it was obvious in everything he did.

  The outside world believed him evil—they couldn’t have been more wrong. However, Arthur did nothing to dissuade them of that belief. He claimed it was better that anyone outside his family thought that way.

  He still didn’t speak much to me either.

  He had never told me he loved me. Never even uttered one complimentary murmur my way. But the way he held me in bed, the way he took my hand, the way he kissed me and fucked me and tracked my every move wherever we went, showed me everything I needed to know.

  But there were times when I would see frustration and anger on his face; his eyebrows would pull down and a haunted shadow would flicker over his handsome features. There were times when his moods were dark, so dark he practically pulsed with malice. He grew distant. Drank more. Smoked more. There were even times he left me alone, only to find me later that day and fuck me so hard that his grip branded my skin and I felt him inside me long after he had pulled out.

  I hadn’t yet figured out the reason for these moods. But I trusted in us. I believed that one day he would tell me.

  “Cheska,” Freddie greeted me, pulling me from my head. He handed me a gin and tonic; he was holding a martini.

  “Arthur isn’t back yet?” I asked, just for something to say and to push the worry from my chest.

  As I had got to know the Adley family, it was apparent that Freddie was the quietest, except for Arthur. He was always kind and approachable, but he was happiest sitting in in everyone’s company, only offering chatter every now and again or when he was asked a direct question. “Not yet.” Freddie sat down, and I sat in an armchair beside him. It was the first time since I’d arrived it had been only us two. “They should all be back soon. Eric and Vera went for Gene.” Freddie checked his watch, then his phone. I settled back against the chair as he typed out a text.

  “So?” Freddie said, eyes assessing, as he put his phone down beside him. “How are you?” He smirked. “How are you finding life on the other side of the tracks?”

  “Good,” I said, and meant it. “Believe it or not, I feel more at home in this converted church than I ever did in Chelsea.”

  Freddie nodded. “I do know.” I knew Freddie had lived here for years. His dad had died quite a few years back. I didn’t know the details, but I knew he was practically Arthur’s brother.

  “You’ve lived here a while,” I said, half statement, half question.

  “Yeah,” Freddie said, staring down at his martini. “Arthur told you what happened with my old man?”

  “Not really.”

  Freddie smiled, and its warmth made me mirror it. He was clearly thinking of his father. He loved him. He hadn’t even spoken about him, yet his face told me this without words.

  “He was a proper geezer,” Freddie said. “A talker, unlike me. A fucking hard grafter. And a loyal general by Alfie’s side.” He took a sip of his martini. “He was an adopted cockney. Born in South London, but moved to Bethnal Green when he was a teenager. Fell into working with Alfie when I was a kid. Alfie liked him. My dad got shit done, no questions, and Alfie respected that.”

  “Sounds like a great man.”

  Freddie met my eyes. “He was.”

  “What happened?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t overstepped the mark.

  “A deal gone wrong.” The warmth he’d been exuding faded to an Arctic chill. “There was a rat in the firm, one of the soldiers. Sold us out to a rival. There was a set-up, a deal that had been infiltrated. There was a shoot-out, and my old man was the one who paid the price.”

  “I’m so sorry. How old were you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “I’m sorry, Freddie.” I reached forward and squeezed his hand. He stared at the hand, then finished his drink when I pulled away.

  “Moved in with Alfie that night. Been here ever since.”

  “He’s like your dad too.”

  Pain or something similar flashed in his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Arthur believes he’ll wake up,” I said, knowing that Freddie’s pain was born from Alfie’s coma. Arthur never once visited his dad in his room. He checked in with his personal nurse several times a day, but never visited him. Never spoke to him or held his hand.

  “He has to,” Freddie said, gravel in his voice. “He has to wake up.” Freddie got up and went to the bar. My heart broke for him. To lose another father … My stomach turned. I knew what it was like to lose people you loved. It felt like a weight constantly on your back. It made you breathless when it became too much. Too heavy on some days to even move.

  The padlocked emotions I kept caged away inside me rattled. I held my breath and pushed back the grief I had fought so hard not to feel. I wasn’t ready to unleash it. I saw Arthur watching me sometimes, closely, as if he was expecting me to break at any moment. But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. After everything that happened to them all … I wasn’t sure I would ever recover if the iron of the cage doors holding those emotions back were ever to buckle and set them free.

  I embraced the now-familiar numbness of evasion and breathed. Freddie was making another martini, I looked at him and swore I felt his weight too. I felt that maybe he too had a padlocked cage of his own.

  “You lost your mum too?” I asked.

  Freddie’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded and turned to me. He hesitated a second, then said, “I was only little when she died. It was just me and my old man until he went too. We were thick as thieves. He was my best mate. He was everything to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. I had no idea how I could make such loss better. Pain like a dagger sliced through my heart. I was the same. I had lost everyone too. So had Arthur. This was why he and Freddie were so close. They had both taken tremendous losses.

  They truly were brothers in every way but blood.

  “Well, this is a fucking sad excuse for a party,” Charlie said from the doorway. Betsy was linking his arm, smiling at her brother’s quip. “Want to talk about how my mum dumped us as babies and ran off with her psychiatrist? Then we can really have a bloody ball.” Charlie rolled his eyes and walked further into the room. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, as did Betsy.

  “We were waiting for you all to arrive, you prick,” Freddie said and winked at me.

  “So you talk about death? Way to cast a dark cloud in the room.”

  “That’s okay, Chuck,” Freddie said. “You brighten any room.”

  “I know you’re just being a sarcastic twat, but I’m taking that compliment anyway.”

  Charlie made himself a drink then sat down on the sofa beside Betsy. “So?” Charlie said to me. “How’s domestic life with my cousin?” There was a playful twinkle in his eyes.

  “Good,” I said, hoping my recent worry over Arthur’s odd behaviour wasn’t obvious on my face.

  “Good? Well, that’s a ringing endorsement for domestic coupledom.” Charlie smirked at me. He must have detected the worry in me after all, as he said, “There’s a lot going on at the moment. Business-wise. Attacks. All that fun stuff. Keeps old Artie busy.”

  �
��Plus, he has no idea how to actually have a relationship that isn’t family,” Betsy added. She checked her watch as the doorbell rang. She smiled widely. “That must be Jacob.” She left the room.

  “Jacob?” I asked Charlie.

  He batted his hand in front of his face, then proceeded to light his pipe. “Her latest tool to make Eric jealous, no doubt.” Charlie sat back in his seat, crossing his legs. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to the most fucked-up relationship of all time soon enough. And the games they play just to piss each other off.” Just as Charlie stopped speaking, Betsy entered, arm in arm with a tall, red-haired man in a suit. She got to her tiptoes and kissed him his cheek.

  “Drink, darling?” she asked him.

  “Guinness,” he replied in a Scottish accent.

  Vinnie came into the room, his arm suspended in the air, clearly around his hallucination of Pearl. Jacob’s eyes widened.

  Vinnie looked Jacob up and down. “Oh, this’ll be fun.”

  He sat on the love seat and got drinks for him and Pearl, whispering things into her “ear”. Jacob was pale as he watched him, and I wondered how Betsy had explained this, tonight, her family. If she had even bothered.

  I heard the front door open and close, then the sound of heels on the hallway floor. “Sounds like Grandma,” Betsy said, and my heart flipped. Eva Adley. I had heard of the Adley matriarch from Vera and Betsy. They had told me, in no uncertain terms, that Arthur was her favourite. And that she was a battleaxe. And her word on anything regarding the family was law.

  I held my breath as a slim, elegant woman appeared in the doorway. She had white-grey hair that was styled into an elegant short bob. She wore tailored black trousers, a fitted white shirt, and a pair of black Louboutins. A long black jacket rested on her shoulders.

  “Grandma.” Charlie got to his feet and kissed her on the cheek. Betsy and Freddie followed suit.

  Vinnie got up and kissed Eva too. Patting his cheek affectionately, she said, “How’s my baby girl?” I knew she was referring to Pearl.

  “Good, Eva. She’s really fucking good.” Vinnie took his place beside Pearl again, whispering into her ear.

  Eva Adley’s eyes found mine, then Jacob’s.

  “Seems we have a couple of interlopers in the room,” she said. But her attention was barely on Jacob. It was firmly on me. It was clear she knew who I was, but I had no idea how she felt about it.

  I got to my feet. “Mrs Adley.” I held out my hand. “I’m Cheska Harlow-Wright.”

  She shook my hand, then quickly dropped it. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a cigarette in a thin black holder. Charlie held up his lighter for her. When the cigarette was lit, she inhaled. As she exhaled, she said, “You’re the one fucking my grandson?”

  I reared back in shock. Her accent was just as thick as those of the rest of the family. A spark of irritation flared in my chest. “I’m more than fucking him,” I replied, a hint of steel in my tone.

  Eva’s eyebrow rose. “Is that so?”

  “Regardless of what you think, I love him.”

  “Love?” Eva laughed, smiling at Freddie when he placed a brandy in her hand. “Love doesn’t always work out well for people in our line of work.” She walked past me and sat down in a high armchair like an ice queen. She regarded me shrewdly. “And what do you love about my grandson? The power? The money? The fact that he’s a bit of rough for you to enjoy then spit out on your fancy SW3 streets.”

  Betsy winced, then subtly nodded at me in encouragement. “How dare you?” I said curtly. “Yes, I’m a Harlow-Wright.” I held my head high. “And I have both power and money of my own. I love Arthur for Arthur.”

  “Last I heard, your family was in ruin,” she said, and I felt the dagger being plunged into my back. “You father and fiancé were killed for being unable to pay back a dodgy loan. Isn’t that right?”

  The image of my dad and Hugo shot into my head, easily slipping past my defences, but I quickly pushed it away. “I have my own money. Money from my mum’s side that my father could never touch. Lots of it. I don’t need a penny from Arthur. Ever.” I crossed my arms—it was more for my own self-preservation than out of insolence. “And if you knew your grandson, you would know that he is worthy of love. There doesn’t have to be any condition attached to it.”

  “Mm,” she said. “There’s the blue-blood arrogance shining through.” She sipped her brandy and let her cigarette burn down in its holder without taking a single drag. “But tell me, how can you love someone you barely know?”

  “I know him.”

  “You’ve known him for all of five minutes.”

  I stepped closer to Eva, fighting back the need to slice my hand across her face. “I met Arthur when I was thirteen years old. Then again at eighteen.” Eva’s eyes narrowed. Clearly this was news to her. “Then we were together for five years. I’ve known him longer than you think.”

  Eva batted her hand. “A secret affair is not proof of anything.” She finally took a drag of her cigarette, then said, “He was a bit on the side to you. You were engaged to a posh twit and fucked Artie behind his back. That’s the great love affair you’re referring to?”

  Anger. That was what swept through me. Molten-hot lava, and anger so great my hands shook. It was rabid, so pure in its potency that I used its heat to spit, “In no universe could Arthur ever be just a ‘bit on the side.’ I loved him then and I love him now. I am here, and I’m not going anywhere. That’s something you’re just going to have to come to terms with.”

  The room was silent. Eva glared back at me, but I thought I saw something flicker in her gaze. Something like approval.

  “Grandma.” I turned to see Arthur filling up the doorway. He was dressed in a grey pinstripe suit, white shirt and black tie. His blue eyes cut to me, and my heart immediately started pounding.

  “Artie,” Eva said. Arthur moved to his grandma and kissed her cheek. He poured himself a gin, then turned to face me. I couldn’t read the expression on his face as he cut across the room, heading straight for me. He stopped before me, put his hand on the back of my head, crushed my mouth to his and kissed me—ravaged me. I fell against him, the people in the room melting away as he pushed his tongue against mine.

  Arthur pulled away but kept his hand on the back of my neck, keeping me close. “Princess,” he said in greeting. He sat down on his usual seat by the fire and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arm around my waist. He always did this when we were in this room. Whenever he was with me, he was always touching me in some way, possessing me, never letting me go.

  I wrapped my arm around Arthur’s neck, feeling ten feet tall. Charlie sat down, fighting a smirk, as did Freddie. Betsy stayed standing beside Jacob, but when our gazes met she winked at me.

  “That’s the first and last time you’ll interrogate Cheska, Grandma. I mean it,” Arthur said. Eva flicked her hand at him in dismissal.

  I lay back against Arthur’s warmth. Against his hard body, smelling the tobacco on his suit, the musk from his aftershave. I looked at his face. Arthur’s jaw was clenched, but then he flicked his blue eyes in my direction. I smiled at him. In seconds he was kissing me again, as if he couldn’t get enough. Not giving one shit that his grandma was no doubt fuming across the room in disapproval.

  He was choosing me … Arthur was choosing me.

  The front door opened again, and Vera’s and Eric’s voices drifted down the hallway. Arthur didn’t get up to greet them. He kept his arm around me and drank his gin like the king he was.

  Vera came to the living room first. She smiled, but it seemed strained. “Here he is,” she said. Behind her was a medium-height, slim boy with curly brown hair that flopped into his eyes. His gaze was lowered. He wore all black, and long black bandages hid his wrists and forearms. My stomach fell. There was only one reason why someone would need such things. One thing he could be trying to hide.

  “Gene.” Eva got to her feet. She held him, and he reluctantly held her back,
looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but in this room with us all right now. When she pulled away, Gene’s eyes flitted away from the floor. He had hazel eyes and pale skin. He was skittish, and clearly had little to no confidence. He was shy. But by the small, nervous smiles he cast at everyone, he seemed sweet.

  He scanned the room, eyes landing on me. If he was surprised by me, he didn’t show it. Charlie stood and headed toward Gene, and Gene’s head lifted for the first time and stayed high. His eyes stayed fixed on Charlie.

  “Gene,” Charlie said, wrapping him in his arms. Gene tucked his head into the crook of Charlie’s neck and held him back. His fingers splayed on Charlie’s suit jacket, like he was trying to sink his grip into him and never let go. “You okay, kid?”

  “Yeah,” Gene said, and a lump formed in my throat at how tightly Gene was holding Arthur’s cousin. As if Gene was drowning and Charlie was the lifejacket keeping his head above the waves.

  Charlie pulled back and tapped Gene’s cheek. “We’ve missed you, kid,” he said, and Gene smiled the sweetest of smiles. He seemed so different to the rest of his family. The opposite of his sister and brother. Eric was larger than life and lethal; Vera was opinionated and could cut you down with one scathing look. Gene … I couldn’t help but think he was too innocent for this life. Too precious. He needed to be wrapped in cotton wool and coddled.

  “I’ve missed you too,” he all but whispered. Charlie turned to go to the bar. Gene’s hazel gaze followed him the entire way.

  Eric appeared behind Gene and put his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. “He’s back!” Eric said, then lifted his head to the rest of the room. He zeroed in on Betsy … then the man at her side. His joy at Gene’s return dropped, and his face turned murderous. “Who the fuck is this cunt?” Eric moved Gene aside and stormed farther into the room.

  Before Betsy could open her mouth in introduction, Eric slammed his hand on the back of Jacob’s neck. “Get the fuck out!” He dragged Jacob from the room.

  “Eric!” Betsy shouted after him, anger in her voice as she ran to the living room doorway. She stopped dead as the front door slammed shut. She backed up a few steps, then Eric was suddenly in the room again. He was breathing hard and had rage in his eyes.