Kitabı oku: «Disobey», sayfa 4
6
‘Uncle Alfie! Uncle Alfie! Open the bleedin’ door will ya!’ Chloe-Jane banged hard on the side entrance of Whispers nightclub. Two days had passed since the last time she’d seen her uncle. And although no doubt he’d been in a huff, getting his bollocks in a twist, as arguments went, it was nothing. She was used to having stand-up rows, followed by fisticuffs. Broken bottles and drunken slurs thrown about by her mother and her boyfriends; that had been Chloe-Jane’s life, so a few choice words were no reason to harbour a grudge. As well as this, she wanted something from Alfie.
About to bang on the door again, it was swung open by a startled-looking Alfie, something which didn’t go unnoticed by Chloe-Jane.
‘Alright mate!’ She grinned, trying to peer over Alfie’s shoulder. ‘Up to no good, are ya?’
Alfie scowled. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’ve got too much chat? Anyway what are you doing here? I thought you’d be somewhere else causing trouble.’
‘Ain’t me causing trouble. What’s going on in there, ’cos whatever it is I bet Franny don’t know nothing about it?’
Alfie stepped out into the alleyway, making sure the side door of the club was closed behind him. He shoved her gently on her shoulder. ‘Piss off, will you. I don’t need you buzzing around here like a fly on a pig’s arse. So do one.’
Chloe-Jane looked nonplussed. ‘Can’t understand what Franny sees in you.’
‘Well it’s a good job it ain’t nothing to do with you, ain’t it?… What is it you want anyway? Oh don’t tell me, money …’ Alfie went in his pocket and took out a roll of twenty-pound notes. ‘Go on then, how much do you want? How much will it cost me for you to go on your merry way?’
Chloe-Jane looked affronted. ‘I don’t want yer money!’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Then what?’
Chloe-Jane folded her arms, reminding Alfie of his ex. ‘I want a job.’
Alfie roared with laughter. ‘A job, in my club?’
‘Yeah, what’s wrong with that?’
‘Now I know you’re taking the piss. For a start, my club is a classy joint and the way you dress it’d make it look like it was a knocking shop for misfits and secondly, giving you a job would mean I’d have to trust you and I don’t, not one tiny bit.’
Having developed a thick skin over the years to survive, Chloe-Jane was not put off. ‘Oh please Uncle Alfie, I won’t let you down, I promise. I’ll work really hard, just give me a chance.’
‘I gave you a chance and what have I got to show for it? I’ll tell you. Me missus up and left, and now I’m in the dog house and you’re like the cat that’s got the cream.’
‘Look, all I want to do is pay my way.’
‘And there’s me thinking you’re a freeloader.’
‘I ain’t, and I know Franny said I didn’t have to pay, but people get fed up don’t they?’
‘That’s the first sensible thing that’s come out of your mouth. Ain’t nothing for nothing in this world, you need to learn that, Chloe-Jane.’
Chloe’s tone was laced with a bitterness far surpassing her age. ‘You think I don’t know that? From the time I was thirteen I was having to pay my way at home, and if I didn’t, me mum would chuck me out or call social services to come and get me.’
A flash of shame briefly crossed Alfie’s face, thinking about Chloe-Jane’s life. He’d half suspected his sister had neglected her but he’d done nothing about it. But then, it wasn’t his fault was it? He’d had his own problems and there was no point in beating himself up about it now.
‘So that’s why I want a job, ’cos I reckon if I pay Franny, she can’t say anything and won’t get rid of me.’
Alfie leant forward. ‘And that’s why I ain’t giving you a job. Because the sooner Franny comes to her senses the better, and we can all get back to normal. So like I said, do one, ’cos you’re not going to make me feel bad about it because it ain’t my fault you’ve got nowhere to go.’
Never one to be able to keep her mouth shut, no matter how hard she tried, Chloe-Jane retaliated, sticking her two fingers up as she turned away. ‘And it ain’t my fault you’re a prick.’
Alfie watched the ball on the roulette table go round and round. The place was packed and all thoughts of Franny and the annoying Chloe-Jane began to fade. He had been supposed to meet Mr Lee, to sort things out, but he’d cancelled so until Alfie heard from him, why not keep pushing ahead with his venture? The damage had been done anyway, so what harm would a few more quid in his pocket make?
The room was packed with illegal gamblers and there was an air of excitement about the place as wealthy businessmen from all over laid thousands of pounds on the table, losing it in a turn of a card or a spin of the wheel.
‘Hey! Alfie!’ The voice sounded from behind him and before Alfie had a chance to turn round properly, he felt a punch land at the back of his neck, complete with knuckledusters. He leapt back as his men ran forward, swinging with his fists at the suited men. The other punters in the club ran over to the exit but it was blocked by a large group of Chinese men who’d somehow got in through the double-locked doors.
Immediately the men started attacking the terrified punters. Nunchucks and coshes, chains and knives were bandied round. Alfie caught sight of a rich American banker being stamped on by three of the perpetrators. Blood poured from the man’s face as he screamed at them to stop.
Alfie ran over to the far side, but was grabbed by a Chinese man with an ability to fight far superior to Alfie’s. The man roundhouse-kicked Alfie’s face, splitting open his lip and loosening one of his back teeth in the mix.
The next blow to Alfie, apart from to his pride was to his nose. A grinding of cartilage sounded as Alfie saw all around him his men being overwhelmed by the triads.
The side lunge to Alfie’s knees brought him down to the ground and he yelled out in pain as his head hit the sharp side of the corner of the bar. He felt the warmth of his blood trickling down his neck. It was all beginning to get blurred now and the room began to spin around. The people’s outlines began to fade in and out. Double vision halted any attempt for Alfie Jennings to fight back. Another pain hit him, this time in the stomach. The blow winded him and he struggled to breathe as he reached out to the wall to try and drag himself up. The boot to the back of his head saw Alfie sprawling on the floor. The next moment, he blacked out.
7
‘Will you just sit down, Vaughn!’ Casey Edwards sat at the kitchen table in Lola’s flat watching her soon-to-be husband pacing up and down. He’d been pacing for the last hour and a half, ever since he’d got the phone call from one of his men, and it was now playing on her nerves. ‘Vaughn, please! Can’t you go and pace somewhere else?’
‘I’m thinking.’
‘Well can’t you think in the car, I thought you wanted to get back home?’
Vaughn swung round to look at Casey. She was so beautiful and he was a lucky man, but she needed to understand things had changed. Everything had changed. And he wasn’t going anywhere, not until this was all over.
He’d just got a call from one of his men, letting him know there’d been some trouble at Alfie’s club, and also that Sarp, the Turkish restaurant owner from Greek Street, had gone missing. As for Alfie’s club, he didn’t know what was going on there but apparently something about a casino had been mentioned.
Vaughn shook his head as he thought about it. There was no way Alfie could really be so stupid, so fucking muppet-like as to open a casino right under the noses of the triads. No, he might be a lot of things and do a lot of things, but that? To bring the devil to the door, knowing it wouldn’t be just him who would be in the firing line. No, surely not.
Alfie had sat there and seen the state Lola was in when the triads had thrown a warning fire bomb in the café. He’d been as angry as the others to think the triads were coming on their territory. There was no way it was an act. Vaughn’s men must have got it wrong about the casino. Or they better have got it wrong. Because if they hadn’t, this stunt of Alfie’s would certainly be his last.
‘You go, Cass. I’m going to stay in Soho.’
Casey looked amazed. One of the things she loved about Vaughn was that he’d put all his old life behind him. He hadn’t seemed to miss his old life like so many of the other retired gangsters; he’d been satisfied to take it easy.
Casey had played hostess many times at the lavish dinner parties she and Vaughn had at his sprawling Kent mansion, listening to the retired faces who could no longer cut it or who no longer had the edge to stay; all dissatisfied and unable to take to civilian life. But Vaughn had been different; he’d found peace outside the world of violence and multi-million-pound deals. But since the attack on Lola’s café last week he’d become obsessed with catching up with the people who’d done it. Almost overnight, the Vaughn Casey had known changed into a hard ruthless man, set on revenge.
‘Vaughn, this isn’t a one-man crusade. What about the others, they can help sort it out as well. There’s Del, Johnny, Alf …’ The moment Casey began to say Alfie’s name she immediately regretted it, as she saw the look in Vaughn’s eye. His voice was cold and agitated.
‘Alfie? Are you fucking serious? That man’s caused enough grief, wouldn’t you say, Cass?’
Casey decided to remain silent. Vaughn and Alfie’s history went way back. At one time, at the height of Vaughn and Alfie’s friendship breakdown, Alfie had told Vaughn he’d slept with her. And although Alfie Jennings had eventually admitted nothing had happened between him and Casey, it was still a sore spot for Vaughn when she talked about Alfie with any form of affection or positivity.
‘Well, Cass?’ Vaughn stood in front of Casey. She could see he was pushing for a fight, which would be his excuse to stay in London without having to discuss it with her. Well she wasn’t going to be goaded. If he wanted to stay in Soho then she wasn’t going to let him put it on her. She remained silent, staring at Vaughn.
Eventually Lola, having finished consuming a runny egg sandwich, broke the silence.
‘Listen Casey, Vaughnie is just doing what he knows best. He’s old school. Them triads need to be stopped and put in their place. This is Soho. Our Soho. Me and Vaughn’s. All of us have been round here as long as me memory will take me back. It’s where we belong. It’s all some of us know; all some of us want. You’re not from round here, love, so it’s different for you, harder for you to understand. But this is our home and we’ll do anything to protect it. So let Vaughnie do what needs to be done.’
Casey shook her head. ‘Lola, you know I love you like my own mum, and you’re right I’m not from round here, but neither is Vaughn, not anymore. He’s moved on. I’m not asking him to turn his back on you or Soho, I’d never do that, but he needs to leave it to the others, take a step back.’
Lola shook her head, her warm smile cutting through her craggy wrinkled skin. ‘Cass, it’s in him. Soho is in his blood. No matter what, that will always be the case and no matter how much he loves you, Soho will always come first.’
Casey was about to object but as she watched Vaughn walk out of the room without saying a word, something told her Lola might just be right.
The AA meeting in Greek Street was empty, save for an old man and a twenty-something skinny woman whose eyes gave away her hard life. But it wasn’t the people Casey had come to see, it was the sense of support she felt when she walked into the hidden meetings which could be found in every town. These sobriety meetings had saved her life. Stopped her from destroying herself when nothing else could reach her.
But as she’d got better, she’d relaxed, hadn’t bothered attending so many meetings, and that had been fine, but one morning last month she’d woken up and from nowhere the cravings had returned. That overwhelming sense of needing a drink. No matter what. No matter how much it hurt her or anyone else, the need to feel the burn of the alcohol hit the back of her throat had become overwhelming.
The cravings which in the past would’ve led to her putting herself in compromising situations with men and drugs were the demons which had brought her to Soho in the first place. Casey had come searching to put the past right, and whilst doing so had put herself right. Her life had gone from unmanageable to downright good. Life had come together. Her life finally had a purpose, and of course then there was Vaughn. She loved him and that love wouldn’t have been possible if she was still a drunk. A lush. He was again part of the reason she needed to stay sober because if she didn’t, it wouldn’t be a question of if she might lose Vaughn, it would just be a question of when.
But how could Casey tell him that their life and her sobriety were in danger of collapsing because of a craving? An urge so strong that in the past, when she’d been married to her first husband, she’d found herself sleeping with strangers just to get a drink.
Even at the time Vaughn had never really understood, although he’d tried. Although he’d seen Casey battle to stay sober, he couldn’t really get his head round the fact that booze came before most things, including him at times.
So here she was, sitting in a darkened basement, desperate to keep clean. But it was hard, so hard; if it wasn’t for the relationship with Vaughn she wasn’t sure if she’d have the strength to go another day without having a drink.
8
Casey and Franny sat in Lola’s newly refurbished café in Bateman Street.
‘Well, what do you think, ladies?’ Lola sat down by the two women, admiring her new set up. She’d been proud of it before, but this, she thought, this was the dog’s bollocks.
Casey, who’d worked in Lola’s café before she’d met Vaughn, smiled at the flamboyance of the tiny workman’s café. Gold and black chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Bright red tables and chairs had replaced the old wooden ones, the work counters were now a loud zebra print and the walls were painted lime green, with large silver-framed photos of Soho in the Sixties.
‘Well, it’s different.’
Lola grinned proudly. ‘It ain’t quite finished yet, but then I blame Vaughn. Can’t get hold of him. He promised he’d get one of those moose heads for me. I think it’d look lovely over there near the door. What do you think?’
Casey raised her eyebrows, her full red lips twitching with a smile. ‘Tell me you’re kidding.’
Lola looked shocked. ‘Kidding? Why would I do that?’
‘It’s just that … well, don’t you think it might be a bit OTT?’
Lola stood up, clearing the empty tea cups. She shook her head in dismay. ‘You’ve never had any taste, Casey. It’s all the rage; latest thing.’
‘A moose head?’
‘Oh yeah, I saw it in a magazine; they had photos of Hampton Court.’
Casey’s eyes widened. ‘They had a moose head in Hampton Court?’
‘Well it weren’t a moose head exactly; it was a deer’s head. But I’ve never liked them things; their eyes are too close together. Gives me the heebie-jeebies. Anyway, moose, deer; they’re all a bit classy ain’t they? And if Henry the eighth can have one on his palace wall then so can Lola’s café.’ And with that, Lola shuffled off, delighted at the admiration on Franny’s and Casey’s face.
Casey watched Lola for a moment before turning to Franny, her smile not reaching her eyes. ‘How’s your new lodger?’
‘Chloe-Jane?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Messy! I’m sure I was never that bad when I was her age, but then I’m not really surprised; by all accounts she’s hardly had an easy life, she’s had to fend for herself most of it. But she’s sweet. I like her.’
‘How long’s she staying?’
Franny grinned. ‘I dunno, she’s talking about giving me money for her upkeep, I think she’s worried I’m going to kick her out any day soon, poor kid.’
The women fell silent, then, making sure Lola was out of earshot, Franny whispered, ‘What’s going on, Cass?’
Casey looked down at the table. ‘Oh, nothing much. Usual stuff. Vaughn’s got a bee in his bonnet.’
‘About Alfie?’
‘About him and other stuff. Things aren’t so good.’
‘With Vaughn?’
Casey hesitated.
‘Cass, you can trust me. We’re friends. Whatever it is, I won’t say anything. I promise. I know what it’s like when you’ve got no one to talk to.’
‘Thanks Fran, it’s just … I know I can trust you, but it’s difficult. Apart from you I haven’t got anyone else. I can’t talk to Lola because it wouldn’t be fair, you know with her being close to both of us, and I obviously can’t talk to Vaughn …’ Casey trailed off.
‘Then tell me.’
Casey’s eyes filled with tears as Franny reached across the table. ‘Cass, please. I’m worried about you. You haven’t been yourself lately. Tell me what’s going on.’
Everything in Casey wanted to tell Franny about how the urge to drink was making her feel. But her shame stopped her. Franny wasn’t like her. She seemed so sorted; she’d gone through so much, yet she’d done it all without a crutch and had only needed the support of her friends. Yet here Casey was, still fighting the booze and her demons. Still waking up with the overwhelming urge to go out and get drunk.
‘Is it Vaughn, Cass, and all this stuff in Soho? I know you want to be loyal to him, but what are friends for if you can’t lean on them? I won’t say anything.’
Casey looked up at Franny. It was easier to agree with her friend than tell her the truth, though it wasn’t a complete lie. Things were strained with Vaughn, but it was difficult to know how much was actually him, and how much was Casey. Vaughn had been pushing her away, but then she’d been doing the same with him. He couldn’t find out what was going on. He just couldn’t.
Feigning a smile, Casey spoke to her friend. ‘Yeah, that’s right. It’s Vaughn. All this stuff with Soho has got right under his skin. He’s like a different man.’
‘Try not to worry, Cass, Alfie’s no better. He’s roaming around like he’s got a rod stuck up his arse … It’ll be okay; if it’s any comfort, I know Vaughn loves you. But if I can give you any advice, Cass, it’d be this; talk to him. That’s what gets me and Alfie through the tough times. We talk to each other, and above all we don’t have any secrets.’
9
Mr Lee stood by the window, wondering quite why the English were so foolish. There seemed to be a common thread which ran through them, a thread of misplaced pride – or as he liked to call it, stupidity.
He’d warned them. Warned them that the trouble wasn’t necessary, and could have so easily been avoided. All they’d had to do was abide by the rules. How easy. How simple; yet as Mr Lee stared in contempt at the bloodied and battered Alfie Jennings lying on the floor, it was clear to him, simple was something the English didn’t like.
Sitting down on the large purple velvet chair, Mr Lee crossed his legs, making him look smaller and more diminutive than he usually did.
‘It’s a shame we couldn’t meet under better circumstances. I was very much looking forward to our discussion later on in the week, but as Robert Burns said, the best laid schemes of mice and men.’ Mr Lee paused, flicking off a stray piece of ash from the large cigar he was smoking. ‘When my men told me you’d decided to continue with your little venture, I thought it best to cut my trip short and have that chat sooner rather than later. I’m sure you understand. And I can only imagine you’ve got a good reason for disobeying my rules.’
Through his swollen, bruised eyes, Alfie glared at Mr Lee. ‘Ain’t no one going to tell me what I can and can’t do, especially from a fucking kitchen sink.’
Mr Lee looked puzzled. ‘Kitchen sink?’
Alfie sneered defiantly. ‘Chink.’
Chang Lee’s face expression hardened. He leaned forward and addressed Alfie, speaking quietly. ‘You see, Mr Jennings, it’s comments like those that I can’t ignore. It never ceases to amaze me how foolish people are.’ Mr Lee nodded his head to Lin and another of his men who walked across to Alfie. They yanked hold of his arms, pulling at his hands as Mr Lee stood up. ‘You leave me no choice, Alfie, and to think all of this could have been avoided.’
Mr Lee nodded again, watching as Lin brought down the machete on Alfie’s forcibly spread fingers. Blood splattered out everywhere along with Alfie’s scream as his little finger was cleanly cut off. His body jerked in shock as what looked like a river of blood streamed out from the mutilated hand.
Mr Lee bent over and picking up the severed finger, walked over to Alfie.
‘Hopefully now you’ll get the message, Mr Jennings and if you haven’t, there’s always the other nine.’ He went to walk away but stopped short of the door. Turning round, he threw the finger at Alfie with a grin. ‘I think you might have more need of that than me.’
