CRUEL SECRETS Read online

  Rudy appeared looking bedraggled, though this was not unusual, if he’d had a late one. He rubbed his eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t let the boys see ya like that, or they’ll be dribbling all over their Weetabix,” he laughed, as he sat on the chair opposite.

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “They are gonna have to get used to it. I can’t help that I grew these babies.” She pointed to her breasts.

  He laughed. “Yeah, but you wanna make sure they don’t escape from that thingy you’re wearing,” pointing to her satin wrap.

  Lippy slapped his shoulder. “Leave the chil’ alone.”

  “That’s the point. Me thinks she’s no child and neither will the boys.” He was giggling like a schoolboy.

  Once Lippy left the kitchen, Rudy turned to Kelly. “Listen, you will stay away from Eddie, won’t ya?”

  Kelly nodded. “You look concerned, Rudy. Why?”

  “He came here, ya know. Turned ya bedroom over, looking for a bunny or something to—”

  Before he could continue, Kelly interrupted, “He didn’t hurt any of you, did he?”

  Rudy lowered his eyes. “Not seriously, but he is fucking mad. He had a gun in me face. He asked where your school clothes were. I said ya burned them. He then asked for ya jacket. I said you didn’t have one.” He stood up and walked to the hallway and Kelly followed. The two heavy overcoats were still there, gathering more dust. He removed them, showing the thin raincoat.

  “I guess he knew you had that bunny hidden in there, but he left with nothing.”

  Kelly smiled and spontaneously hugged Rudy. She knew then that, no matter what, he was the one person she could trust with her life. She realised he hadn’t even looked in her pockets because the bunny wasn’t there anyway, and yet he obviously assumed it was.

  She growled, “As God is my witness, I will hurt that man. You watch me.”

  Rudy shook his head. “Stay away, Bluey, the man’s reckless, he cut—” His mouth was running away with him.

  “Who, Rudy, who did he cut?” She grabbed his arm.

  He paused. “Keffa, although it was years ago. But he cut his throat and left him for dead. Don’t say anything.”

  Kelly shook her head. “I won’t, Rudy, I promise.” She left him there and returned to her room in contemplation.

  She went through the clothes in her wardrobe only to find nothing fitted at all; she had grown taller and her shape had changed. Pulling on some jeans and a top from her holdall, she quickly got dressed. Rudy knocked and then poked his head around the door. “Bluey, if ya need money, here you are. Ya money was kept in the drawer, your share.”

  She took the envelope and winked. “Soon, Rudy, we will all be millionaires. Thanks for this. I just need to buy a few bits. It seems I can’t fit into teenage clothes anymore.”

  He laughed. “I wonder why! Just you make sure those babylons are held in, whatever you wear. Don’t want no car crashes.”

  Her voice took on a serious tone. “Thanks, Rudy. I mean, thanks for everything. You are my true friend and uncle.”

  Rudy shuffled from foot to foot. “Yeah, man, fam.”

  She nodded. “Yeah … Fam.” They high-fived.

  With the money in her purse, she called a cab and headed for central London. Those three years she had spent in prison were long enough to find the business of London’s roads almost alarming. Oxford Street was her favourite place to shop, but there were so many shoppers; somehow, she felt out of place, almost like an alien. The officers had warned her that adapting once more to civvy life would feel strange at first. Three years inside was one thing as an adult, but locked up as a child and coming out as a woman, it was an entirely new experience. She found that out for herself. People treated her differently. Men looked at her with wanting eyes. It was exciting and yet somewhat unsettling.

  Selfridges hadn’t altered much; although fashions had changed, the store was still laid out as she remembered it. She wandered from one counter to the next, eyeing up the products. She spent quite some time going over the costume jewellery and appraised the fake blue diamonds encased in silver which were ideal for a formal occasion. One caught her eye: it was a necklace. It looked a bit ritzy but the blue gem was almost perfect; turning it over, she then held it against the light, where it shone in all directions. She smiled to herself. If it were real, it would be worth a fortune. Amiee, the shop assistant, was watching her, admiring her slim figure and long hair. Unlike the woman holding the ugly necklace, she was heavily made-up, and she wished she had the customer’s perfect skin. Amiee approached Kelly with a huge grin.

  “Can I help you, Madam?”

  Turning to the assistant, Kelly smiled at her. “Oh yes, do you have any other pieces of jewellery like this one, but with a large blue stone?”

  Amiee returned behind the counter and pulled open a drawer where there were others going on sale that afternoon. She placed the tray on top of the counter. “These are similar, Madam. Are you looking for a necklace for a special occasion?”

  Kelly smiled. “Yes, very special. How much is that one?” She pointed to an oval-shaped blue stone clasped at the top with a dainty clip and a long thick silver chain to hold the weight. Amiee frowned; the necklace was too tacky and wouldn’t suit such an attractive woman.

  “Oh, that one is in the sale, fifteen pounds now, but we have some stunning pieces—”

  “It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”

  Amiee would have persuaded her customer to part with more money to purchase a finer piece – she was good at sales – but sensed she couldn’t this time. She wrapped it in tissue paper and handed it to Kelly. “I hope you enjoy your special occasion.” Kelly smiled again. “Thank you, I am sure I will.”

  As she walked away, Amiee watched her, dreaming of having a tight figure like hers and hair that tumbled down her back in natural waves. Not many women were so innately pretty. Amiee sighed and returned to her fake jewellery.

  Kelly wandered around the concessions, trying to decide what would suit her now; all she had worn, once she had been sentenced, were the prison issues. She had jeans and sweat tops but she wanted to change her image. She tried on some dresses and was surprised to see how different she looked. The constant training in the gym had given her long legs definition and a flat stomach.

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she smoothed down the black figure-hugging dress and grinned to herself. Her mother would be turning in her grave. After adding a pair of high-heeled black shoes and a short black leather jacket, she nodded; this was her, this was the person she was meant to be. Lippy had once told her she would grow into herself one day, but Kelly had never really understood what she had meant – until now. She paid for all the outfits and returned to the changing room, placing her jeans in one of the bags. Her new clothes gave her added confidence, and so she headed for the make-up department. The attractive young assistant was falling over herself to assist Kelly, even offering a free makeover. Kelly was enjoying the fuss and agreed. The final result was far better than Kelly could ever have envisaged. She wasn’t excessively made-up, but the smoky eyes defined her facial features and she had to admit to herself she looked pretty good. With the transformation almost complete, Kelly decided to have her hair trimmed. She’d been so used to prison life, where it didn’t matter what she looked like, she was feeling on a high, with so much self-indulgence.

  The hair salon was on the third floor. Kelly wandered up, hoping they would be able to slot her in. The salon was not only trendy but it took Kelly’s breath away. Huge life-sized photographs of men and women, with the trendiest of hair styles she’d ever seen, adorned the walls. The sight took Kelly back to the time when Debra had looked at her in astonishment at seeing the effects of her daughter’s makeover on her. It seemed such a long time ago now.

  The man at the desk, dressed in a black T-shirt, with the salon’s logo clearly shown on the front, and black skinny jeans, looked up and his eyes widened. “Oh, hello, how can I help you?”


  “I was hoping you could squeeze me in, just a trim, nothing more.”

  The man was eyeing her up and down. “Err … yes, err, maybe, let me see.” He looked at the screen. “Ahh, yes, if you are ready now, can I take your name?”

  “Yes, it’s Bluey Raven.”

  He led her to a seat and helped her with the gown. “Penny will be with you shortly.”

  Kelly sat staring at her own reflection; it was like looking at a complete stranger. She felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Always the ugly duckling at school, she was a new woman: in name, substance, and style. Then she thought of Peter. Would he like her look; would he be interested in the woman she was now, or was it the innocence in her face he had found attractive?

  Shortly, a young woman with a long blonde fringe appeared, wearing bright red lipstick, black jeans, and a black work shirt with hairclips hanging from the sleeve. She was chewing gum and looking down at a clipboard, and so she hadn’t even noticed Kelly.

  “Just gonna take a few details, right? Ya just wanna cut and blow dry?” Her voice was flat, clearly bored. Well, it had been a slow day.

  Kelly grinned to herself. “Nah, Penny, I wanna trim.”

  Penny looked up, stared at Kelly’s reflection, and gasped; she tilted her head, it couldn’t be, and felt goosebumps over her skin.

  “Churchy?” she whispered, truly astonished at what she was seeing.

  “It’s Bluey, now, Penny,” she smiled.

  Penny looked around furtively to see who was about. “Fuck me, gal, I thought you was on the run, or dead or something? Does anyone know you’re ’ere? I mean …”

  Kelly swung around in the swivel chair. “It’s all right, Penny, no one’s after me, not now. I’ve done me time. I’m a free woman.”

  With her mouth open, Penny was shocked for many reasons. Straightaway, she felt awkward. Churchy was now a confident, stunning-looking woman. Did she murder that man and her mother? How dangerous was she?

  “Penny, it’s okay, I don’t bite.”

  “I’m just … well, you look so different. Fuck me, Kelly, I mean, Bluey. What’s with the name anyway?”

  “Ditched me old life and created a new one.”

  “So, ya served time in prison? Blimey, how did ya cope?” asked Penny, eager to know the details.

  “Truth is, you helped me, when I was on the run, and inside, I would think, ‘What would Penny do’.”

  Penny nudged her shoulder. “Oh, go on with ya!” she laughed.

  Kelly’s eyes widened. “No, seriously!”

  “Did they beat you up or hurt ya in there? Cor, fuck me, I would have died in prison. How did ya manage?”

  Kelly gave Penny a loaded look that suggested no one fucks with me. “It’s all about your rep in there, and funnily enough I earned one, and so, no, it was okay. Like living with a load of pussies, really!”

  Penny swallowed hard; she remembered the gossip and the grim details of Maureen’s murder. It was the talk of the town and the school for many months. Kelly Raven, the serial killer, turned to Kelly Raven, the wandering ghost, had caused hysteria at school, with pupils swearing blind they had seen her spirit roaming around the streets.

  After an hour of interrogation, which had not been particularly diplomatic, Kelly concluded that Penny hadn’t changed one bit. Penny was so open: there was nothing fake or hidden. So, Kelly was only too pleased to divulge the truth behind her time in prison – not that she was proud, but describing the antics put an eager smile on Penny’s face. It was certainly the best gossip ever to be heard in a hairdresser’s salon. Penny finished with Kelly’s hair and showed her the back. Her friend had done a great job.

  As Kelly stood up to leave, she hugged her friend. “You were good to me at school. I always admired you.”

  Penny returned the hug. “We’re mates, then, Kel?”

  Kelly nodded. “Yeah, ’course we are, but only if you call me Bluey!”

  They exchanged numbers, and as Kelly walked away, Penny watched her, still tingling from the shock and blown away by the transformation.

  So not such a boring day after all!

  *

  Eddie Raven was surrounded by his little firm; his reputation still commanded attention. He had to keep his nose clean, as DI Maddox had tipped him off that the police were still keeping him under observation. They swallowed his alibi, but the Commissioner insisted he wasn’t to go off the radar.

  “Tommy, I want you to follow Kelly. I wanna know every fucking move she makes, got it?” ordered Eddie. Tommy nodded; he didn’t have much choice, as the debt he owed was like a fucking mortgage. His life wasn’t his own now. The alibi the night of Maureen’s murder was not enough; Eddie wanted blood, his blood.

  “Why’s that, Eddie?” he asked.

  Sitting comfortably in his oversized chair, Eddie now leapt up, like a jack-in-the-box, and towered over Tommy. “Who are you to ask me why? Just do as I fucking say.”

  Tommy sank deeper into the pillowed sofa, nodding like his head would fall off. “Sorry, Eddie.” He sounded pathetic but that was how Eddie liked it.

  Eddie was staying in his North London house, a big place, in a street surrounded by doctors and stockbrokers. He called a meeting, every Monday, to get the low-down on how his businesses were doing. The days of robbery were over; he was now back into protection money, along with the proceeds from his nightclub and two pubs. Driven by greed and bullying tactics, he was muscling in on places he should have left alone, yet he was so brazen and reckless that the owners of the two pubs handed over the deeds – well, they’d had no choice. Tommy still remembered those events; how could he ever forget them?

  *

  It was after twelve years inside when his protection racket had died a death, and by the time he’d come out, there wasn’t much left. Two brothers, the Bristols, had taken over and much of it had been sewn up. They were young, in their early thirties, but, like Eddie, they were also ruthless. Eddie was angry that two kids, as he saw them, had the balls to step on his toes, and he was even more livid when they had shot his right-hand man, Vinnie, in the face, taking his eye out. He had survived but looked a mess. After being out for only two months, and keeping low, Eddie rounded up his firm and went to meet the Bristols, Freddie and Frankie. Eddie had told his men to follow them, noting all their movements.

  On a Saturday night, the two brothers would call into the Venue, a trendy pub, which was raking it in. They would stay on the premises, drinking and partying with all the toffs, wait until lock-up, and then collect the money. Normally, they used their firm to do this for collecting the protection money from the other joints on the manor, but at this pub they did their own dirty work. It was too easy; the owner was a stockbroker who had an interest in the pub world but didn’t have the clout to keep the wolves from the door. He was making a mint and settled for the brothers to take fifty per cent of whatever they took on a Saturday. They kept their end of the bargain and even acted like bouncers, throwing customers out who got too mouthy.

  Eddie took Tommy and Cyril along, just to check out the place. It was full to the rafters and he could see why. The pub was more like a club and the clientele had money – lots of it. He spotted the Bristols, from where he was sitting in the corner, and appraised them critically. They were brash and loud, wearing flash suits, but were they as cold-blooded as him? He didn’t think so. Freddie was the younger one with a shaved head and massive hands. Frankie, however, was smaller; not such a meathead, he was livelier, and his neatly groomed hair gave him the edge. It was Frankie who called the shots – he had sussed that out. As the night wore on, the pub was crammed with people. Eddie walked to the toilets and brushed past Frankie, feeling his waist for a gun. Frankie took no notice because it was so packed. Eddie walked back from the men’s room and did the same to Freddie and concluded neither had a weapon.

  The next Saturday, Eddie returned, this time with five of his firm; they plotted in pairs around the pub. As the night came to an
end, they gathered in the ladies’ toilets and waited for the doors to lock. Once the pub was quiet, all six of them appeared, each with their back to the bar, as they lined up like six smartly dressed bouncers, much to the horror of the Bristol brothers.

  They were aware of Eddie Raven but never knew what he looked like. Gareth Caulstone, the owner, was behind the bar, counting the money. Next to him was the new barmaid. She grinned at Eddie and flicked her long black hair. Gareth stopped what he was doing, his mouth open, trying to fathom the dynamics of the situation. Stealthily, he moved his hand underneath the counter to press the panic button – a direct link to the police – but the barmaid grabbed his hand. “No ya don’t, mate,” she said. He looked at her and then at Eddie; they could have been twins. Then the penny dropped: they were related.

  “So, boys, it seems to me, and correct me if I am wrong, that you two have taken a right fucking liberty. I mean, a man goes away inside and you little rats feel it’s all right to take over his business, and to make matters worse, you did so without his okay!” goaded Eddie, as he stepped forward.

  Frankie and Freddie looked at each other and then back at Eddie. Frankie was the first to speak. “And you are?”

  With a sneaky smirk, Eddie laughed. He looked down at his new black patent shoes. “Who am I? Well, boys, I think you know damn well who I am, so cut the bollocks. You see, I am all for making a few quid, that’s why they call me Eddie Cako, but to take from a man that’s locked up in the system, well, that’s like taking candy from a baby. In my book, that’s breaking all the cunting rules.”

  Eddie took another step closer. Frankie had a cockiness about him and raised his eyebrows. “A bit past it, ol’ man, for making any fucking rules, ain’t ya? Go home and put ya feet up. This ain’t your business. Ya had your day.” He expected Eddie to run at him in a temper, and then he would give him a fight and mangle him. The cocaine he had been snorting all night gave him the gumption to say and do as he pleased.