Get Even (44 page)

Ivy and Del Conway were over the moon at the way the wedding had gone off. Ivy had never seen her daughter looking so beautiful. They were in a nightclub on Southend seafront that they had taken over for the night, and the food and drink was outrageously good. They had champagne on tap – anything anyone wanted was on tap. It must have cost Ray a fortune, and Ivy was pleased that her daughter had got herself a man who was so good to her. Those boys were well behaved these days, and they obviously loved Ray as much as he loved them. It did her heart good to see them all happy. Little Kathy was going to be a heartbreaker with that black hair and those blue eyes. The place was packed and, as she watched her own husband getting steadily pissed at the bar, she smiled to herself ruefully. Her Del would never change, but even she could see that he was pleased for his daughter, and so he should be.

Annie made her way over to Ivy, and the two women, who were very friendly with each other, chatted happily together. This was a wonderful day, and they were both pleased with how it was turning out. In fact, they were both of a mind. They saw that the children they had produced had finally found the soulmate that eluded so many other people. They were rightly pleased with the day and saw nothing in the future except happiness for these two who were so much in love.

Gerry and Reggie were both half-drunk and sitting together in one of the small booths that dotted the nightclub.

‘Strange venue for a wedding, Reggie, don’t you think?’

Reggie grinned and she was aware of how painfully handsome her brother was. Of course, she knew he was gay – and that it was still something to be kept as quiet as possible. Even now that was a no-no in the criminal underworld.

‘He’s just bought it. Well, the word “acquired” is probably more apt.’

Reggie knew that he was talking out of school but at this moment he didn’t really give a shit. He had felt it was wrong what Ray had done and he had said as much to him.

Jack Johnson agreed with him but, as Jack said, what could they do? It was over with, finished and done. Maybe if they had known about it beforehand they could have intervened, but Ray had a habit of working on his own and that was always going to cause friction. His attitude had been: this is a personal matter, why would I involve anyone else? He had a point, but it was the principle. Young Elton was in on it, of course, and that was another bugbear. Elton Mills was in on everything these days.

Gerry didn’t know what to say but she could sense her brother’s discontent and she hoped that it would not blow out of proportion. She knew how easily that could happen in their world, and how brutal it could be.

‘Well, you do have separate businesses, Reg.’ She was striving to be fair.

Reggie sighed and said honestly, ‘And I mention them before, during and after the transactions. I don’t just fucking spring them on everyone.’

Gerry’s smile lit up her beautiful face. ‘Well, he is a Northerner. They do things differently up there!’

She was trying to lighten the mood; Reggie just shrugged and changed the subject. ‘Saw you eyeing up that Barton earlier and him eyeing you back. I don’t think his wife noticed.’

Gerry looked suitably ashamed as she whispered, ‘I’ve been seeing him for a little while, Reg. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it.’

Reggie sighed heavily. ‘You are hardly in the first flush of youth, Gerry! Why don’t you look for a proper bloke? One who hasn’t got more baggage than fucking Heathrow Airport.’

His words stung and, in a rare act of retaliation at her brother, she said snidely, ‘I might say the fucking same to you, bruv.’

But Reggie just smiled as he said benignly, ‘That is different and you know it. Though I have got the Italian-looking waiter’s number!’

They were friends again and she hugged him quickly as she said in a whisper, ‘You like them big and manly, just like I do. Must be a family trait, eh?’

They watched as Ray led Sharon on to the dance floor and, as he pulled her into his arms, Reggie saw that she wasn’t as happy as she was making out. He knew her better than she realised and he hoped against hope that life had not thrown her another fucking curveball. She had had more than enough to contend with over the years, and she deserved a slice of happiness. Whether she would find it with Ray Donovan remained to be seen.

Reggie clapped with everyone else and watched the pair dance in silence.

He hoped Sharon would be happy; he could never look at her without the guilt almost choking him. He had loved her husband very much and, the saddest part of it all was, so had she.

Sharon had danced with her new husband, both her sons, her father and Jack Johnson. Now she was dancing with Barton, aware of the huge strength he possessed as he held her to him tightly.

‘He is one lucky man.’

Sharon felt herself blush and laughed to hide her embarrassment. He really sounded like he meant what he said to her. But he was a womaniser and he looked on all of the female sex as potential mates. Although he was already married to her friend, she knew that, as much as he loved Jamella, he would always need a bit of strange. It was the nature of the beast.

‘Your eyes look sad, Sharon. Sparkly, but still there’s a sadness behind them.’

‘Hark at you!’

He looked down at her face and he said seriously, ‘You thinking about your first wedding to Lenny?’

She nodded almost imperceptibly and then she said honestly, ‘I can’t help it. I feel terrible but I suppose it was inevitable, really.’

He nodded but continued to look into her face and she wished the Stylistics record would end so she would be free of his scrutiny. Barton was a shrewd man and that was not just her opinion – it was the opinion of anyone who came into contact with him.

‘Human nature, Sharon. I would be surprised if you didn’t think about it. You had a prosperous union by most standards. Two lovely boys. And then him being taken so viciously. Bound to have an effect, darling.’

She sighed. ‘Well, that was then, and this is now. I know we are going to be very happy together.’

Barton could hear the uncertainty in her voice but he did not remark on it. After all, who knew what she had heard about Ray? He could guarantee that anything she did hear from certain people would not be to the good. Ray was making a few enemies and that was something Barton understood, because in their game it was part of living the Life.

‘He loves you, Sharon, more than anything. He adores those boys, and that little girl you’ve given him has made him happier than I have ever seen. Remember that. He ain’t like me. I’m always on the lookout for a bit of strange, as you have probably heard. Let’s face it – my old woman ain’t exactly quiet about my foibles, is she? But never him. Ray has eyes only for you and that counts in his favour, surely?’

Sharon forced a smile, feeling her face ache with the effort of looking as happy as this man wanted her to be. And she
was
happy – she was determined to be.

‘I’m glad to hear that, as you can imagine!’ She made her voice light and full of fun and that was good enough for Barton, who decided that he had said his piece and that would be the end of it.

Ray caught young Lenny smoking outside and he saw the worry in the boy’s eyes at what Ray might have to say to him. He removed the cigarette from the boy’s mouth, crushed it out beneath his huge foot and, smiling his easy smile, he said quietly, ‘A mug’s game. Look at me and your mother, both hooked! If you are determined to do this then please make sure you don’t get caught in the future, OK?’

Young Lenny could not believe his luck; he had expected to be read the Riot Act. Ray wondered at why this boy didn’t irritate him; after all, he was the living image of his father. Yet that wasn’t an issue because he knew the boy was more his than he had ever been Lenny Scott’s. These lads of Sharon’s had needed a male presence and he had provided that. And he actually did care for them.

In the beginning he had courted them to get to Sharon, but now he looked on them as his own flesh and blood. He knew they adored little Kathy, and that pleased him because he really did not want them to be jealous of her. He had great plans for these boys and it did not involve university or any of the other shit that Sharon wanted for them; he had just said that to go along with her in the early days. They had a natural cunning and he felt that should be utilised. Also, as they had grown, they had expressed a desire to be a part of his world and that suited him down to the ground. Not that he would want that for his child, of course, but then Kathy was a female and, as such, would have no value to him in any way. But these were the offspring of Lenny Scott and that would never be forgotten.

‘Do you ever think of your real dad, Len?’

It was a question he had always wanted to ask, but there never seemed a right time to do it. Now he felt he could ask it without fear of the answer.

Young Lenny screwed his eyes up. It appeared that he was seriously considering the question, and then he said sadly, ‘Not really, Dad. It was so long ago and, even though he used to do things with Liam and me, he wasn’t doing them like you do. You know, just us together, laughing and that? It was always with Uncle Reggie.’

He held Ray’s eyes now and the unspoken truth was there between them. Liam had obviously told his older brother what he had witnessed and the boy had believed him. Which, considering the circumstances, spoke volumes. Young Lenny had sussed out that both he and his brother were used as a blind for the two men to spend time together. There was a small part of Ray that felt sorrow for Lenny Scott and the fact he had to live a lie for all those years. He was also sorry for this lad who had to come to terms with knowing what his father was.

‘Honestly, Dad? If he’d not been murdered, I think that I would have ended up killing him myself.’

It was so honest and so heartfelt that Ray could do no more than pull the boy into his arms and hug him tightly, and young Lenny returned the embrace with fervour.

‘Listen to me, Len. Your father was from a different world. He could never really be himself, you understand? Not in the world
we
live in, anyway.’