CRUEL SECRETS Read online

  “Cor, Kel, let me tell you, you are the image of ya farver. He’s a cocky bastard, too.”

  Kelly flared her nostrils. She had heard enough now. Being told she was like her father was the worst insult ever. Like a cat with a rocket shoved up its arse, Kelly jumped up. Her face looked severe, as her eyes darkened. “Like me dad, eh? Me fucking dad! You tell me I’m cocky, I should respect you, then you say I’m like that fucking paedophile? Jesus, can this day get any bloody worse.”

  The shock hit Toni so hard that it physically jolted her. “What do you mean, fucking paedophile?”

  Kelly took a deep breath and tried to calm herself before she flew at Toni again; there was no telling what she would do this time. Her new-found confidence had come from nowhere, and all that ran through her mind now was to survive and act like everyone else in here.

  “Me ol’ man’s a stinking paedophile. He went to prison for it,” she said, as she sat back down again. Her jaw dropped forward and she had a fury about her. To anyone now, Kelly was a fighter and no silly pushover. Perhaps the lesson in being tough had come from her mother; all that repressed frustration and the fear of consequences had had their day. Now she was a woman on a mission: she would fight with every breath in her body, and woe betide anyone who thought she was a soft touch anymore. The only fear all her life, which had ever plagued her, was her mother’s wrath – but she was dead.

  A fixed frown edged on Toni’s face, as she tried to work out where Kelly would have got that from. Her voice soft and low now, she murmured, “Kel, ya dad’s not a paedophile. He was inside for murder. He got twelve years. He’s no nonce, love.”

  She stopped to look at the resigned expression on Kelly’s face.

  “Listen, babe, do you know who your old man is?”

  Despairingly, Kelly shook her head. “No, I never knew him. I wasn’t allowed to know until I reached sixteen, and then me aunt was supposed to tell me. Some silly promise she had made to me mum.”

  Toni knew why. It was because her brother should have been released on Kelly’s sixteenth birthday, but he had got out a few months earlier. “You will like him, Kel.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You don’t know me.”

  Toni was biting her lip; her niece was pushing her luck, and she was not used to anyone slating her brother. They would get a good hiding, or worse, if they tried it. Toni moved along her bed to face Kelly.

  “Straight up, Kel, woman to woman, what’s your problem?”

  Kelly stared at her aunt and took in all the flaws in her otherwise attractive face. She may have crow’s feet and a few wrinkles around the mouth from smoking, but her skin was more or less flawless, barring the scars, one above her eye and the other on her chin.

  “Okay, Toni, I’ll tell ya. I grew up in a house of fucking horrors. I was mentally taunted at school, and up until a couple a years ago, I longed to have someone come and rescue me. I was suffocated, not allowed to live, and too fucking frightened to move, unless I was told to. I wasn’t allowed to know about me past, and I was damn fucking sure I was told how to live me future …” She looked at Toni, half-expecting her to jump in. “Then I had a run-in with this Patrick bloke who tried to … not sure what he was gonna do, but anyway I killed him and took off. I had no one to run to – no one. So, as you can imagine, I had a fucking lot of growing up to do, see, and by Christ, I did. So, as for family now wanting to play the bloodline thing … well, it’s too little too fucking late.”

  Shocked by that outburst of feeling, Toni sat on the edge of the bed, taking it all in. “Who looked after you when you did the off, then?” She wasn’t being sarcastic; she was genuinely interested.

  That was an odd question but Kelly wasn’t stupid either; she spotted the subtext. “Oh, just a few friends, here and there. They kinda looked out for me, but no one in particular.” Her voice softened for a few seconds and then Kelly returned to reality. “Anyway, you wanted to know why I wasn’t running into your open arms and there it is. I don’t trust my family anymore. To be honest, I don’t need or want them – I’m too old now.”

  Toni nodded. She felt some shame but Kelly was a grown-up and she was right – there was no family bond.

  At that moment, there was a bang on the door and instantly Toni shouted, “Piss off!”

  The door banged again. “Tone, it’s recreation. Ya coming?” It was Hattie having a nose.

  “Nah, fuck off! I’m wiv me niece!”

  Kelly was feeling tired. She patted the bed. “I’m on ’ere, then?”

  “Yeah, kiddo, go for it. Ya look peaky. D’ya need anything?” She tried to lighten the otherwise tense situation.

  “Nah, just me T-shirt. I’m hot in these sweats. Where did Charlie put me stuff?”

  Toni pulled a shallow tin box from under the bed. All Kelly’s prison issues were neatly folded and stacked on the tray.

  “Ta,” said Kelly, as she bent over and retrieved the top. With a daring glance, she looked at Toni, waiting for her to turn around.

  Rolling her eyes, Toni tutted and looked away, but as her niece stood up to remove her top, Toni covertly glanced back. The gap between the two beds was so small, she was an inch away from Kelly’s back. She could see the mass of long scars on her skin. At first, she thought it had been where Kelly had been lying on her uneven top and the creases had made an indent. However, as she looked closely, the T-shirt tumbled down. Toni lifted the back of the shirt up again. Kelly didn’t move. She allowed her aunt to have a good gawp; she needed Toni to understand what kind of life she had faced growing up.

  There was silence as Kelly sat down on the bed, flung her legs around, placed her arms under her head, and then stared up at the ceiling.

  “Who, err …” Toni was beyond shock.

  “Me muvver. Now do you get why I like to be on me own?”

  Toni nodded. “I wouldn’t hurt you, chicken.”

  “No, maybe not, but you didn’t save me, either. I was left to live with a raving God-fearing lunatic. No one came for me. Me dad abandoned me. You could have visited, you could have seen if I was all right, but no one did. I don’t know ya, Toni, and I don’t need anyone, not anymore.”

  She closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep.

  *

  Totally blown away, Toni couldn’t get those scars off her mind. They looked old. She must have been young. Her visions of a religious nut whipping Kelly as a child were not wrong. She wasn’t close to Kelly but she felt something now – perhaps it was guilt coming to the surface.

  The last time she had seen Kelly, she was four years old; she had been a sweet child, with the most amazing round green eyes, and she was such a chatterbox. Maureen was a good mother then. She had always dressed the child immaculately, sometimes even matching her own outfits. Maureen was a good-looking woman, and she could see why Eddie fancied her and why her own husband, Patrick, did for that matter. She tried to remember if there was any hint of child abuse, but she couldn’t think of any. Their house was big and tastefully decorated. Kelly’s bedroom was like a princess’s castle, with every toy imaginable and a wardrobe full of designer dresses.

  When they were growing up, they’d had very little. There were three older brothers in one room and her in the small makeshift bedroom downstairs. Their parents were in the bigger room upstairs. They lived in a cramped two-up two-down, with a bathroom just off the damp kitchen. They were without two pennies to rub together. It was circumstances which led them into a life of crime. Joseph, their father, was a coalman, who had worked all hours, breaking his back for a few quid only to be crippled over with arthritis. She tried to remember him without his black coal face. Their mother, a little Spanish woman, had been gentle but naïve; she hadn’t had a clue how things worked, especially when the boys were making their own way in life. Her two eldest brothers, little Joe, named after her father, and Alex, were both big men. They took after their father with the Irish blue eyes, pale complexion, and dark hair. She and Eddie though
had taken after their mother with her olive skin, green eyes, and dark hair. The five-year gap between them and Eddie seemed like a ten-year one. They had all flown the nest early and rented a flat together, just off the East India Dock Road. It wasn’t long before their little scams earned them enough to buy a pub, although they were not into serving pints; it was a legal establishment to cover their arms deals.

  Until Eddie was fifteen, he was living off their eldest brother’s reputation. It worked, as he was seen as a force to be reckoned with. Unlike Joe and Alex, he was sharp, and his quick movements gave him an edge. So Eddie was the brother she most tried to follow. She learned quickly, watching her brother’s wild actions and the way he unnerved people with his sly glances, and so she soon copied him. Eddie had loved his mother and father, and that love continued up until they died; but then he changed. He became violent, reckless, and greedy. She couldn’t understand why at the time, but as the years passed, she began to realise he hated the world. Then, one night when they had both gone out together and were in among the usual crowd, Eddie’s little firm, she understood why.

  They had taken their usual corner in the Drovers, a club on the Old Kent Road, which was not a hangout for local firms but frequented by Eddie’s crew. At the back of the club was a cocktail bar and Eddie was partial to a piña colada. It was strange because he looked like a brandy man, but he didn’t give a shit. If he wanted to drink a bowl of what was a white fluffy concoction, with pineapples and umbrellas, then he would – besides, who was going to tease him? Who’d have the guts? He was wearing his trademark Italian suit; it gave him authority. Also, Eddie liked the respect it gave him. He used it, too, to get what he wanted. That night, they were in high spirits. Eddie had robbed a jeweller and got away with ten Rolex watches and all the diamonds the shop held. It wasn’t a messy operation either; he had planned it most carefully. Those were in the days long before CCTV on every corner. He almost took down the side of the building but he got away and left the Ol’ Bill scratching their heads. Eddie had taken an interest in architecture and studied building plans. He could have made an honest living out of it, but he didn’t like doing anything by the book. “Line the pockets of those snotty-nosed fucking taxmen, no way,” he would say.

  Just as Blakey, one of Eddie’s older sidekicks, placed another bowl of piña colada on the table, Eddie leaned forward and carefully pushed him aside. They all looked to see who Eddie was staring at. In walked Patrick. He was a Face but this wasn’t his turf. He was from North London. Toni watched her brother’s expression take on a fierce look of anger. “That cocky cunt!”

  “Who is he?” she asked. Eddie didn’t take his eyes off Patrick. “That there is what I call a silver-spooned villain. That nob is fucking minted, comes from a wealthy family, his father’s a fucking Irish lord or something, and here the prick is acting like the Krays, all ’cos he can buy his muscle.”

  “Ya lost me, Ed.”

  “Patrick Mahoney has money, was fucking born with money, but wants to be like the big boys. Instead of keeping to his own kind, he fancied himself as a gangster. Probably bored with being hand-fed grapes off a silver platter, he used his lordly money to start up a protection racket. Cor, the prick makes me fucking mad. I would love to take a shooter and blow his brains out. That Irish wanker has taken from the poor to give to the fucking rich.”

  That was it; those words resonated in Toni’s ears. Her brother stole from the rich because he had come from the poor. He hated anyone who had more than him. Watching their parents struggle for every penny and to die with nothing, with not even a weekend break down the coast, had made him an angry man.

  Toni stared, along with Eddie, at the big Irishman. He was handsome too, not obviously good-looking, but maybe it was his confident presence that made him attractive.

  They watched Patrick order his Irish whiskey and turn to walk towards them. Toni mumbled under her breath, “Ed, he’s coming over here.”

  “Yep, the brazen cunt, but I fucking know what he wants.”

  Patrick walked up three steps straight to their table. He didn’t smile or sneer but just stood there. “Eddie Raven, I believe,” he said.

  Eddie nodded, acting cool, sitting there with his arms outstretched along the soft-pillowed backrest of the curved sofa.

  Patrick looked at the five men, two on either side of Eddie. Toni was sitting on a stool opposite. Eddie raised his eyebrows and smirked.

  “Don’t push ya luck, Patrick. These ain’t me fucking bodyguards. They are me mates and we are having a few drinks.”

  A sneer crawled along Patrick’s lips. “Well, what I want to discuss with you is private, between you and me.”

  Eddie leaned forward. “This ain’t the place for business and you should have booked an appointment first.”

  Patrick was surprised that Eddie was so arrogant, as he had half-expected him to jump up and be all over him like a rash, getting in on any offerings. His own business was growing fast and he had a name for himself now. His firm in North London was bringing in a fortune. The Italians, these days, were going to him for protection; it had been a big turnaround because for years they had called the shots.

  His sneer turned to a smile, as he looked at Toni. “So, is this ya sister, Eddie? She’s a good-looking woman.”

  In a heartbeat, Eddie jumped to his feet. “Don’t fucking push it. You leave her alone.” He indicated to his friends to leave. Toni stayed seated.

  “Right, what do you want, now you’ve ruined me fucking night?” His eyes were like slits, as he snarled at Patrick.

  Patrick eased himself along the curved sofa and placed his drink right next to Eddie’s cocktail.

  “Now then, this is the situation. You have robbed my mate, a jeweller, and he wants all his gear back. It’s that simple!” said Patrick.

  For a few seconds there was silence, as Eddie leaned forward and picked up his drink and sipped it through the straw. “This ’ere, Patrick, is a piña colada. It’s made of pineapple, rum, and coconut. Ya wouldn’t think they could mix, but they do and voila ya have a lovely taste.”

  Patrick wasn’t one for gangsters’ riddles. “Yeah, but ya see, right now, Eddie, I have a bitter taste in my mouth. So, like I said, you have fucked with the wrong man.”

  Immediately, Eddie placed his drink back down, grabbed Patrick round the throat, and squeezed. “Oh yeah, ’ave I, you cunt?”

  Patrick was on his back, struggling to remove Eddie’s fingers, but Eddie was on top of him, not letting up on his grip. Toni hadn’t the courage to intervene or her brother would have given her the same. Then, he let go and watched, as Patrick coughed and spluttered. Patrick took a few deep breaths and straightened his clothes, whilst Eddie sat back down and sipped more of his drink. It was as if he had just swatted a wasp.

  Patrick stared at the nutter. “You should never have done that, Eddie Raven.”

  Eddie slammed the glass down hard and whipped from his pocket his blade; he held it under Patrick’s chin. “Nah, ya right, you tosser. I should have used this on you. But I am a fair man, see. But try and threaten me, you Irish wanker, and I will slit ya throat.”

  Patrick sucked in a deep breath and waited until Eddie removed the blade.

  “Eddie, you wanna be careful. My mate is under my protection. I can’t have the likes of you robbin’ from under my nose. I’ll have ya dead and buried before I fucking lose face.”

  Eddie laughed. “Well, here’s the thing. See, Patrick, I have already made you look fucking stupid. I mean that business, paying you a shed load of protection money, and little ol’ me taking the fucking lot. You look a proper div already. Now, I know you earn a mint from all the jewellers around South London, but, as I see it, this ain’t your manor. North London is yours, and I think, correct me if I am wrong, but you have taken a right fucking liberty.”

  Patrick sat back on his seat and folded his arms in disgust. “You sly bastard, Eddie, ya fucking robbed that business deliberately to get at me. Ya didn’t d
o it for the money, did ya?”

  Eddie displayed a full set of perfect white teeth. “Oh, dear me, Patrick, it looks like you have egg on your face.” He leaned back and laughed. “Nah, not egg, more like a whole fucking Spanish omelette.”

  Patrick felt the blood rise to his face. The cocky snigger grated on him, yet Eddie wasn’t finished; he was enjoying the wind-up.

  “Well, I s’pose the holdall full of shiny diamonds was a bonus. ’Ere, look at me new Rolex. Lovely, ain’t it.” He shoved the gold watch under Patrick’s nose and then he laughed again. “All right, Patrick, you can have it all back.”

  Patrick smiled. “I knew a smart boy like you would see sense.”

  “Oh, I saw sense a long time ago. I’ve had me eye on you, Patrick. I’ve watched how you work. See, I like to be one step ahead. You bought your reputation, ya threw ya weight around, in the form of paid bully boys. See, that’s where me and you are different. I do me own dirty work, whereas you live off your sister Sheila’s reputation, which, until now, has been untainted.” He paused, deliberately, waiting for some reaction from Patrick. There was none: Patrick was staring in disbelief. He had seriously underestimated Eddie.

  “So, this is how we can remedy this little problem, which, I must say, is your little problem, not mine. I am a fair man, Paddy. As I said, you can have the gear back and your protection will sit comfortably in the eyes of your so-called customers. Your reputation will remain intact, but there is this issue of my cut in it all. See, you must know by now if the filth can’t catch me, your little mob can’t either, get what I mean? I can make you look a right fucking fanny merchant.” He smiled and sat back, waiting.

  Knowing he was up against a smarter opponent, Patrick nodded. “Looks like you have pulled a right sly one, Eddie, but I like you. You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that. I think me and you could be good for business.”

  Eddie sneered. “Don’t fucking patronise me. The thing is, you don’t have much choice whether you like me or not. So, this is how it works. The protection racket in South London is mine and North London is yours. I ain’t a greedy man, so I want fifty per cent.”