Get Even (31 page)

Big Lenny was ashamed and annoyed in equal parts. If he was honest, he had always harboured feelings for Sharon Conway, but while his son had been alive, he could keep them in check. Seeing her alone with those two little boys, he had begun to think that he could be the answer to her prayers. She was so innocent, and he felt she needed a man of the world to look out for her. He still believed that she needed someone who could be a father to her sons and a man with her.

As far as he was concerned, Reggie Dornan and the northern ponce, who now seemed to accompany her everywhere, were out of order. She was his son’s widow and that gave him rights. What those rights were even Big Lenny wasn’t sure, but one thing he was sure of was once she understood where he was coming from, she would know it was the right thing to do, not just for her but also for those little boys.

Lesley had guessed that there was something troubling him, and he hated deceiving her. But she was old; old and boring. He was still a virile man and Lesley had never really been that hot in the sack – it had been the fucking missionary position their whole life. He envied the young men these days; they were pursuing women and girls who knew that sex was not just for the procreation of children. They liked a good time too.

He swallowed down another shot of vodka and immediately poured himself the next. It was Dutch courage. He knew that all Sharon needed was persuasion. She was ripe for a man, and that was something a girl like her would need explaining. She needed a real man. Which is exactly what he was.

Ray had settled into the London scene well. He was liked and that meant a lot. Unpopular people, especially if they did not originate in the Smoke, could often find their lives very difficult. Doors would be closed to them, and disrespect would be rife. Unless, of course, they had a killer reputation – then it was a different kettle of fish. Then they were vilified behind their backs until an opportunity came to see them off.

Ray Donovan, however, through his treatment of Sharon Scott, was seen as a man’s man by everyone. He made a good impression and he didn’t presume, which was always a good idea with Londoners. His friendship with Barton King also helped. They were an incongruous pair, but the genuine camaraderie was easily apparent. Barton was known as a man who did not suffer fools gladly, so this Ray Donovan had to have something going for him. Reggie Dornan and Jack Johnson were also giving him his due; all in all, Ray’s life was settled.

Now that he had Sharon Scott he felt a very blessed man indeed. In fact, he was whistling as he went into the small offices in East Ham where they ran the loan business.

He smiled as he looked around him; it was obvious that a woman worked in here. For a start it was spotlessly clean and the plants, which were numerous, were well watered and healthy-looking. Even the venetian blinds were dust free. It always made him smile; it was like being in a small home office where the lady of the house did her accounts and wrote to her friends. He always felt too big for the place, especially the oak desk, even though Sharon had replaced the chair with one that allowed for his height and bulk.

He sighed pleasantly. Soon the workers would be in with their usual complaints about late payers and other gripes. But he was well able for them, as his old mum used to say, and deep down he enjoyed his work.

Sometimes the past came back to haunt him, but those moments were getting less as the time wore on. Prison, especially a lump of a sentence, could do that to a man. It was the isolation from the outside world that was the worst. Once you got your head around that it made life easier. Some men became paranoid; others who missed their families became depressed, while men like him just felt that they were in some kind of suspended animation.

He shook the thoughts from his mind and sipped at his thick, strong coffee – careful, as always, to use the coaster provided! He was smiling once more at Sharon and her foibles. Most loan offices looked like a scene from War on Want. As the business of the day began he felt himself relax properly; he loved his work and that was half the battle.

Sharon was enjoying having a day off. She had cleaned the house from top to toe and she was about to get into a nice relaxing bath when her doorbell rang. Sighing in annoyance, she slipped on a dressing gown – a thick, warm, towelling one – and went down the stairs to answer the door. It was Big Lenny. She saw that he was well away and letting him in was the last thing she wanted to do. She tried to slam the door in his face but he was already halfway into the house. This was the one time she cursed that no one could see them from the road.

He shoved the door shut clumsily behind him and said angrily, ‘Why are you treating me like this? I was there for you after Lenny died and you weren’t so fucking fussy then, were you?’

Sharon Scott looked at the man who had often made her feel uneasy but who had also been a great father to Lenny and grandfather to her boys. He was now her enemy, but she had to box clever. She said, as placatingly as possible, ‘Please, Len. Will you go?’

Big Lenny was staring at her. She had bewitched him. He fantasised about having sex with her, about them living as man and wife, about having her whenever he wanted her. In the fantasy, though, she was a willing participant. She was groaning with pleasure and egging him on to bigger and better performances. But the reality was very different.

‘I am warning you, Len. If you don’t go I am going to tell Lesley what’s going on.’

He continued to stare at her and she felt fear washing over her.

‘I’m not joking. Reggie and Ray already know what the score is—’

It was hearing Ray’s name that seemed to send Big Lenny over the edge. His hand shot out and he grabbed the front of her dressing gown, pulling her towards him and causing it to fall open. She was naked underneath but before he knew what had happened, she had slipped out of the sleeves and was making a run for the back door. He was on her in seconds and, when he forced her to the floor, she could feel the coldness of the wood, and the pain as he lay on top of her. She was fighting not just with fear but also with disgust. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and the sweat from his body. It was making her gag.

As he held her arms above her head with one large hand, he shoved her legs open with his knee, all the time fumbling with his zipper, and she screamed out. He was forcing himself inside her. With one last surge of strength she bucked her hips and forced him off her. She turned, bringing her knee up with all her might, and caught him perfectly. Now it was he who was screaming in pain.

As he rolled away from her she was up and running. She ran up her stairs and didn’t stop until she was in her bedroom. She locked the door and picked up the phone.

She rang Jack Johnson, assuming rightly that he was the best person at this time. Ray would do murder. As would Reggie. As would her father.

As she whispered urgently into the phone she could hear Big Lenny coming up the stairs and she was almost hysterical with fear. She could still smell him on her. It was making her want to vomit. She placed a chair under the handle of the door and then ran into the en-suite bathroom, locking that door behind her. She stood there shivering in fear as she waited to see what was going to happen next.

Jack Johnson was in shock but he was a man who worked well under pressure. He racked his brains for someone he knew in the area where Sharon lived and he came up with a huge bouncer called Dougie Stewart.

Dougie was a big Scottish lump from Glasgow who had married a very pretty and available Essex girl. She had produced two beautiful children – and then run off with Dougie’s best friend. Dougie now brought his kids up with the help of an au pair and spent his spare time hunting down his errant wife.

He listened carefully to what Jack Johnson said, kissed his kids and smiled at the au pair. Then he left the house and was on his way in seconds. He was disgusted with what Jack had told him; that a man could go after his son’s widow was just about the lowest of the low. Reading between the lines it seemed that Big Lenny, the piece of shite, was looking for a right-hander. Well, he would not have to wait for long.

At Sharon’s house, he parked the car, walked around the back and kicked the door in with one swift movement. He could hear the commotion upstairs and made his way up the stairs with great speed considering his bulk.

He was still hammering Big Lenny when Reggie arrived. It took all Reggie’s considerable strength to pull him off.

Gerry was sitting with Sharon, refilling her wineglass when needed and just listening to what Sharon had to say. Gerry was scandalised at the horrific treatment of her friend. And by her own father-in-law!
That
was what she had trouble getting her head round. She had tidied up as best she could, disposed of the dressing gown, helped her friend into the bath and arranged for the boys to go to Sharon’s mother’s house.

Big Lenny had been taken away by Reggie and Dougie, and they had heard nothing from anyone since. The girls agreed that the last person Sharon needed now was Ivy. She would just tell her husband what had happened to their daughter and that would cause even more aggravation. She would have to be told but not yet.

The other person in the dark about the night’s events was Lesley, though why Sharon was trying to spare that religious maniac, Gerry didn’t know. But Sharon could be funny like that; she knew how much the boys meant to Lesley since the murder of her son. Sharon was a better person than she would ever be, Gerry knew that much.

She still could not find out what exactly had happened. Gerry would lay money that he had managed to rape the girl; she had seen the bruises on her in the bathroom. But that was something for Sharon to say yes or no to. She was the victim and it was her call. Gerry shuddered, trying to imagine the horror of your dead husband’s father trying to have sex with you. It was gross, unnatural – especially with a man like Big Lenny Scott.

Sharon knew that it would be pointless trying to keep the attack from Ray, but what she knew she
had
to keep secret was that she had been raped. He had managed to penetrate her, and the thought of it made her feel physically ill. The smell of him was still in her nostrils and she wondered if it would ever go away. She could still feel his hands on her breasts, between her legs and his tongue probing inside her mouth. She felt like gagging again and she tried to stifle the reflex.