Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists Page 12

  ‘Natty. Nice name.’ His voice was achingly soft. Probably wishing the kid a better childhood than the one he’d been dealt Babs concluded.

  ‘Dee’s opening a club by the way.’

  Kieran seemed lost in thought. ‘So I heard. A business associate has been invited to the launch on Saturday and wanted to know if I’d tag along as his guest. I hope she’s paid off whoever she needs to give a backhander to. The club scene can get a bit lairy if you don’t pass a few brown envelopes around.’

  ‘Don’t worry, my Dee knows about these things. She was married to John remember.’

  ‘As if I’d ever forget.’

  Babs frowned hard. What a strange thing for him to say. She knew there’d been toxic blood between him and John about the gold, but there was something in Kieran’s voice that suggested it was something else. Whatever it was Kieran wouldn’t confide in her; their close relationship seemed to be at an end.

  Nevertheless, she still enquired, ‘Are you going to take your mate up on his offer to go to the launch?’

  Kieran seemed to collect himself. ‘Probably not. I’m a busy man.’

  He got up and escorted her back down to reception and then onto the street.

  ‘The gold,’ he whispered, ‘are you sure you didn’t blab to no one else about it? Or maybe Pearl did?’

  ‘Not a soul. We were very strict about that.’

  Kieran gave her a knowing stare. ‘Did you arrange to have it stolen behind her back?’

  Babs was outraged. ‘I think you’ve had too many liquid lunches with your new friends at the stock exchange. ‘Course I never!’

  Kieran looked at her meaningfully. ‘In that case, the answer to your problem is simple. If you didn’t take it, then Pearl must’ve done.’

  19

  ‘What’s up Vi?’ Pearl patiently asked. ‘You’ve been looking like a soggy weekend since we got here.’

  Here was Izzy’s Hairdressers off Stratford High Street. Vi and Di, accompanied by Pearl and Fred, came once a month to take advantage of the half-price special for OAPs. The twins did love a good ol’ wash and set and Pearl couldn’t blame them. Dying slowly in some scuzzy armchair, waiting for the undertaker to cart you off was how many saw the lives of older people. Pampering and sprucing yourself up was a young person’s game. Well, two fingers to that! Older folks had as much right to a sprinkling of glamour just like anybody else. And anyone who said different she’d shown them about their business with a hard bash of one of her bottles of Wrey and Nephew about their bonce.

  Isabelle, the owner, was doing a bang up job of styling and shaping Vi’s Diana Dors look while her twin was under the dryer. Pearl would’ve been thrilled to have her hair done too. That was never going to happen. No one, absolutely no one, got to see what was under her headscarf.

  An opened copy of Cosmo lay in Pearl’s lap as she sat next to Fred who gazed at Vi with star struck eyes. Pearl almost handed him a hankie to wipe the drool from his chops.

  When Vi pressed her lips together avoiding answering, Pearl quickly closed the mag and shuffled to the edge of her seat. ‘Come on Vi, tell me what’s got you so upset.’

  Fred jabbed Pearl, not hard, but not gently either. ‘Leave off. Let Vi enjoy getting herself tarted up.’ Realising what he’d said he went bright red and sputtered, ‘Not that you’re a tart or nuthin—‘

  Vi let out a laugh that sounded like music. ‘Even if I wanted to be a tart I don’t think anyone’s going to take me up on the offer.’

  ‘Don’t know bout that,’ Pearl piped in. ‘Knew this old bird who was on the game most of her life and taking all comers until she was well into her seventies. Apparently she had this thing she did with her belly button—‘

  That didn’t go down well with Fred. ‘Oi! Wash your filthy mouth out with soap and water. Vi don’t need to be hearing about some arthritic Tom’s fuzz hole.’

  The ladies looked at each other and sputtered into peels of high-pitched laughter. God knew Pearl needed some laughter in her life. Her brother’s words of advice were like a splinter in her thumb. Babs ripping her off? Pinching the gold and then playing all innocent? Nah. Babs would never do that. Would she?

  Pearl bounced back to the present and caught Vi’s fretful gaze in the mirror. Pearl gently persisted in getting to the bottom of what was going on. ‘A problem shared is a problem solved.’

  Vi tilted her head to look up at Izzy who got it straight away that her customers wanted to be alone.

  Izzy shook her glorious black hair back as she announced, as soon as she’d taken Di from under the dryer, ‘I’ll be round the back making myself a brew.’

  Once the four of them were alone Vi opened up her handbag with trembling fingers and pulled out a letter. ‘This came in the post this morning.’

  She handed it over to Fred whose lips moved silently as he read.

  ‘They can’t bloody well do that,’ he exploded.

  Pearl snatched it from him and as her eyes scanned the letter her insides churned with dread. ‘It says the management of the care home will have to ask you to leave if you don’t pay your fees which are due next Friday.’

  Vi seemed to crumple in on herself. ‘I’m already behind by two months as it is—‘

  Her twin forcefully cut in, ‘I’ve already told you that my Glenda is good for it. She’ll pay for us both.’

  Vi straightened, her gaze flashing with defiance. ‘I’ve told you I won’t take a penny from your girl. Anyway, she doesn’t like me. She’s always resented how close we are.’

  ‘She’ll do what she’s told,’ Di snapped with the authority of a mother.

  Her sister stubbornly kept her thoughts to herself on that matter. Then said, ‘If I don’t pay up they said they’ll transfer me to Dead House.’

  They all gasped. Dead House was the nickname for the Council run care home down the road. The stories coming out of that place were sickening. Old folk left to rot in their piss and shit for hours on end. A man with dementia who’d wandered off and somehow managed to get as far as Southend. And plenty more. It was no care home but a dumping ground for people who society should’ve been looking after with love and respect.

  Fred’s face boiled red as he blew his stack. ‘I’m not having that. Over my dead body. I’ll sort it out, just you wait and see.’

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ Pearl admitted mournfully.

  Vi’s delicate hand waved in the air. ‘I know what you’re going to say. If you hadn’t introduced us to that con artist I’d have enough money to pay my way. But, like what I said at the meeting, no one twisted my arm.’ A breath shuddered in her thin chest as a stricken expression took hold of her face. ‘I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to leave my friends behind.’

  Di patted her sister’s hand sharing her strength. ‘We’ve been together for years now. You’re not going anywhere without me.’

  Their attention was diverted by the sound of something being shoved through the letterbox of the shop’s front door. They didn’t have time to figure out what it was because there was a flash followed by an explosion.

  The twins screamed with terror as Fred and Pearl cursed. The sisters dived for cover, crouching on the floor with their arms protectively covering their heads.

  A horrified Izzy ran out from the back. ‘What the fu…?’ She never finished. Another one came hurtling into the shop.

  Flash! Bang!

  That’s when Pearl sussed what had been thrown – rockets. The twins desperately tried to curl into balls under a chair. They openly sobbed, clutching each other petrified to the core. Fred threw his body near the chair trying his best to protect them. Although she was bricking it, Pearl had long ago realised that crying did no good. She remained where she was.

  The door burst open and five youths, hoods over their heads and their jackets zipped high up their faces, waltzed in. One held a vicious-looking, steel baseball bat, which was pointed with menaces at them.

  ‘Penny for the guy! Remember! Rememb
er the fifth of November! Oh fuck, it ain’t November is it? Never mind, everyone loves a firework display, don’t they? Now which one of you fuckers is Izzy?’ the youth carried on.

  Pearl dared to growl, ‘Clear off or I’ll have the coppers on ya.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what grandma, why don’t you shut the fuck up before I really give the cops something to investigate? Now where’s Izzy?

  Izzy scrambled to her feet, her face ashen and pasty. ‘Please, leave my customers alone. Take what you want from the till and go.’

  The youth swaggered forward making Izzy take two steps back. ‘Are you calling us thieves? That’s slander that is. I should take your legs out for that. We’re not crooks, we collect insurance and It appears that this month’s payments have slipped your mind.’

  Izzy’s eyes widened as it dawned on her what this was really about. ‘I was gonna pay it tomorrow.’

  ‘Wazza ain’t gonna cut it.’ The thug laughed like a demented hyena. ‘Cut it. Get it.’

  The baseball bat bashed violently into a display of conditioner and shampoo. The products and shelving crashed to the floor.

  ‘I’ve got it in the back,’ Izzy hurriedly cried knowing she’d do anything to stop her beloved shop from being trashed. She’d worked herself to the bone to turn this place into her dream after she’d divorced her cheating husband, packed up her kids and started all over again.

  As she rushed off the youth fixed a dangerous glare onto Pearl and the others cowering on the floor. ‘Nice hair-do you got there missus, suits your face.’

  Pearl knew when to leave it alone, but Fred didn’t. ‘You cowards. Why don’t you go and pick on someone your own size?’

  The bat was waved at him. ‘Do you want some of this because I’ve got plenty. Come and have a go if you like?’

  Fred could see the odds and nothing more was said.

  The goons sniggered, apart from, Pearl noted, the one nearest the door. That one looked like they wanted to run for their life.

  An out of breath Izzy reappeared and shoved a bulging envelope in the youth’s hand.

  ‘That’s more like it.’ The envelope was stuffed into the terror’s back pocket.

  But the thug wasn’t finished. The bat was back pointing at Izzy. ‘Take a seat.’ The bat shifted to indicate a chair.

  Pearl had enough of this. They had their money, anything else was unnecessary. Fury rose up with her words. ‘She’s given you the cash. That’s enough.’

  Fred wasn’t having it either. ‘Mugging people off, what they teaching you kids these days in school, eh?’

  The youth didn’t appear to take offence, just twirled the bat. ‘Well, if it ain’t ebony and ivory.’ Calmly the thug turned back to Izzy. ‘Now if you don’t wanna watch your premises go up in smoke you’d better tell the Golden Girls to shut their gobs and mind their own.’

  Izzy pleaded with Pearl and Fred. ‘Please! I know you want to help me out, but the best way to do that is to stay out of it.’

  She swallowed, then walked on legs trembling like jelly towards the chair and sat tensely in it. The youth searched the equipment in the shop. Then smiled with wickedness. Electric clippers were held triumphantly in the air like a trophy.

  Fred started to move to intervene but Pearl snapped him back and whispered, ‘Izzy said leave it. Don’t you worry, they’ll get what’s coming to them one of these days.’

  Suddenly the youth at the door walked slowly towards Izzy. The leader of the gang plugged in the clippers and passed it to the youth.

  ‘Right, leave her a reminder for next month.’

  The clippers buzzed on. The youth cut a path through Izzy’s gorgeous hair like a mini lawnmower. The result was obscene. Her shiny, black hair hung on both sides with a bald strip running from back to front in the middle. Izzy struggled to hold back the tears.

  The youth chucked the clippers on the floor as if they were on fire.

  Baseball bat goon looked this way and that at Izzy’s new hairstyle. ‘If we come back next time it won’t be a clipper that’s used but something a lot more sharper and on other body parts.’

  The bastard had the brass to mockingly bow to Pearl and the others. ‘We won’t charge for the fireworks display, that was free.’

  Then they were gone.

  ‘You alright girls?’ Fred asked as he helped a shell-shocked Di and Vi to their feet.

  Pearl was more concerned with Izzy who hadn’t moved a muscle. She got to her feet and quickened her pace towards her. Izzy was in a trance, transfixed by the reflection of the horror story her hair had become.

  Her almost dead eyes caught Pearl’s in the mirror. ‘They could’ve done anything to me, anything.’ Her voice was dead too. ‘But this.’ She shook her head with feeling. Her hand caressed the right side of her hair. ‘This is all I’ve got. This is why people come here coz my hair looks so great. Who’s gonna want a hairdresser that looks like this?’

  ‘’Ere,’ Fred said from across the room. ‘Get a wig. There’s some very nice ones around now and your barnet will soon grow back.’

  The woman all cried with despair, ‘Fred,’ but it was too late.

  Izzy burst into floods of tears mumbling, ‘I’m so sorry,’ again and again.

  Just as Izzy had looked after Vi and Di once a month now it was all their turn to take care of her. They got her sat down on one of the comfy chairs with a cuppa touched up with a lick of Pearl’s rum.

  A Knowing Pearl asked, ‘You having to pay protection money to someone?’

  Fred squinted at her in surprise. ‘How do you know anything about that?’

  ‘Wish I could say the spirits told me, but truth is I’ve seen this one too many times with my own two eyes.’

  An exhausted Izzy said, ‘I’ve been paying hand over fist for the last nine months.’ She looked straight at Vi. ‘It seems you ain’t the only one with money troubles.’

  Courtney was the only one not creasing up as they took the central line back to Mile End after the rumble at the hairdressers. Seeing those old people terrified out of their wits on the floor put her in mind of her Nanna Babs. Worst still it put her point blank back in her grandmother’s sitting room when her granddad had Nanna on the floor choking the life out of her. Just thinking of that awful incident made her want to retch. Courtney had been involved in a few tussles in her time but what had gone on in that hairdressers was bang out of order.

  She hadn’t wanted to cut that woman’s hair, but Dodgy had told her, in no uncertain terms, that was the only way she could become a member of her crew. So she’d done it and still felt shit about it.

  Dodgy looked at her. ‘You done good Courts. Thought you were gonna bottle it.’ When she pulled out a fag and lit up, a mum with a kid sat on her lap looked disapprovingly at her.

  Dodgy snarled, ‘You gotta a problem with this missus?’ She stabbed the ciggy in the woman’s direction like a blade. The woman tutted and turned her face away.

  Strawberry whispered, leaning into Dodger, ‘They won’t like us calling attention to ourselves.’

  A confused Courtney asked, ‘They? Who are they?’

  ‘Never you mind,’ Dodgy responded. Nevertheless, she snubbed out her fag heeding Strawberry’s words.

  Then she slowly smiled and Courtney had to admit she was a very attractive girl when she did that. ‘All you need to know is that you’ve passed the test for getting into my Dodgy crew with flying colours. You’re now officially a Dodgy Girl.’

  The all cheered, Courtney’s being half-hearted. She had a strange feeling she was going to regret falling in with this lot.

  And, as if to pile on that strange feeling, Dodgy informed her, ‘Gonna need you at the Station tomorrow night.’

  Courtney was relieved. Saturday night was Aunty Dee’s club launch and her mum was expecting her to stop in to look after Little Bea.

  ‘No can do,’ she bravely answered.

  Dodgy stared at her dead in the eye with an expression that trumped loudly you didn
’t want to get on her bad side. ‘Yes you will do. You’re a fully paid up member of my Dodgy Girls now and you’ll do as told.’

  20

  What the fuck am I doing here?

  Babs asked herself the question for the umpteenth time as she stood in front of room fourteen in the hotel in Finsbury Park. This was a mistake. An all-time loser mistake. The last time she’d been her was back in ’78. And what a fucked up year that had turned out to be.

  So, if this was such a mistake why have ya tarted yourself up like some blowsy piece selling her wares on Commercial Street, eh? Put on one of your best frocks and heels? What the flamin’ hell are you doing here? Haven’t you made enough cock-ups in your life?

  But, like a magnet was forcing her hand, she raised it to knock. It wavered in the air. She couldn’t do this. Just couldn’t. The only road it led to was one with a street sign named Disaster. Decision made, Babs rushed to go back the way she’d come.

  But she was too late.

  The door opened. And there he stood – Tricky Dickie.

  He’d hounded her with messages on her mobile to meet him. She’d ignored them but the Herbert wouldn’t leave off. He was a persistent bollocks alright. If she didn’t feel so low after Kieran’s brush off and trying to figure out if Pearl had betrayed her she wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Well, that’s what Babs convinced herself.

  But one look at him and she was away with the fairies. Her heart squeezed and leapt with pleasure. He was rigged out in a plain T-shirt and black jeans and a welcoming smile on his gorgeous, lived-in face.

  Babs anxiously coughed and swallowed. ‘Look Tricky Dickie…‘

  She squealed as he grabbed her hand pulling her inside.

  He kicked the door shut with the back of his heel, took her face gently in the palm of his hands and kissed her.

  Just like that! No ‘Hello’, ‘How’s it going?’, ‘Fancy a cuppa?’ Simply plunged them into a place they hadn’t been in almost three decades. Babs heated up with the power of a tropical storm. It felt soooo good. No, better than good. Took her zooming back to that time in ’78 when they’d made love here. And it had been making love, not a bit of how’s your father, getting your leg over or having a shag. It was the first time in forever Babs had felt that she deserved to be loved.