Maura's Game (21 page)

Jack was quiet for a few seconds before saying, “I fucking need this, don’t I, like a hole in the head. I’m supposed to be working on a deal for the Newcastle boys and now I have Vic on me back all the time.”

“As you say, Jack, we’d better go and see Maura Ryan, find out what she makes of it all.”

“Consider it done, Kenny boy. Consider it done. Now how about a Scotch? Wash the taste of that nutter out of our mouths.”

Roy watched as Carla made him some soup and sandwiches. She was so like her mother that at times it pained him to look at her.

“You look lovely, Carla, really beautiful.”

She smiled, and her green eyes lit up with the compliment.

“How are you feeling, Dad? Better?”

He nodded.

“I think so. The tablets make me feel a bit spaced out but I think I’m getting back to me old self. Gradually, like.”

“Well, that’s good, ain’t it?”

He nodded once more and Carla was amazed at the change in him. It was as if her father had been replaced by a hollow replica of the man she had known all her life. Even his clothes seemed to hang differently on his large frame.

Roy looked defeated, yet when her mother had been alive he had despised her. Carla had despised her too. Janine, as she thought of her mother, was one selfish bitch. Her only interest had been in her son, her Benny Anthony.

Yet Benny had hated her with a vengeance. Had hated the way she had tried to tie him to her apron strings. He still held a grudge against his granny too over her part in his childhood, though in fairness he was trying to build bridges there because of the new baby arriving. Carla supposed the baby would be a focal point for them all once it arrived, the great-grandchild, the new generation of the Ryans.

They all made her sick at times. Anyone could have a fucking baby. Except for Maura, that was. But maybe that was a good thing. Imagine a child born from her!

Carla was being a bitch and she knew it, but it made her feel better. She was so jealous of her aunt, at times it made her ill. Carla watched her getting everything she wanted, even a good man, and she was fucking fifty, for crying out loud! According to all the women’s magazines, most women of forty had statistically more chance of getting blown up by a terrorist than of finding a man! Yet there was Maura, fifty and shagging away like a fucking nineteen year old.

It pissed her off, it really did.

If it had been anyone but Tommy Rifkind, Carla knew she could have coped, but her feelings for her aunt had changed over the years and the resentment was getting harder and harder to deal with.

She was kept by her, a woman who was only five years older than Carla herself. Yet Maura treated her like she was still a child. She was over forty years old and they all talked to her as if she was a fucking retard!

Sometimes when they were together she felt an urge to tell Maura what a prat she looked in her outdated suits and her stupid bloody court shoes. Who did she think she was? Big benevolent Maura, looking after everyone. But she didn’t look after her own child, did she? That poor little fucker had been ripped from her belly without a second’s thought. Only it was Maura doing it so everyone was supposed to feel sorry for her. Even Benny, Carla’s own brother, treated Maura like she was something special. They all did and it galled Carla more and more every day she experienced it.

What about her? That was what she would like to know. What about her? Didn’t she deserve some respect instead of everyone just asking how she was, telling her she was good-looking and then ignoring her. And what about poor Joey? She knew what they said about him, but she would see her day with them all. She was going to take Tommy Rifkind from under Maura’s nose and then laugh at the lot of them.

These feelings had been building up in her for years but Tommy had been the catalyst that had allowed her to voice them to herself at last. Fuck Maura Ryan, and fuck her uncles and her father. He was Maura’s golden boy, and she was his blue-eyed girl. They were right, the people who whispered that the Ryans were a bit too close to one another. It was sick the way they all carried on.

Well, sick was the word all right. Maura would be as sick as a parrot when Carla walked away with Tommy Rifkind, and she would walk away with him. She was determined on that. She would show them all that she was a person in her own right, a person to be looked up to, admired even.

These thoughts made her smile once more, her charming smile that hid the viper she really was.

Roy, watching his daughter, said loudly, “Are you all right, love? You look funny.”

She smiled once more.

“Just thinking, Dad, you know how it is.”

Yes, unfortunately, Roy mused. He did know what she meant. He knew exactly what she meant. And it was this that was bothering him.

Carol and Abul were on another shopping trip and Abul had had about enough of it. Carol smiled at him sympathetically.

“Getting fed up?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. Not my line, shopping.”

“Especially for baby things, eh?”

He nodded again.

“Let’s go in here and have some lunch then.”

He followed her into the Bluebell Restaurant in Chigwell. When they were seated and comfortable Abul rang Benny and told him where they were. He knew that was what Benny expected of him and he was happy to do it. Carol waved and greeted friends as she sat at the table like a queen. She knew that her friendships were mostly based on the fact she was Benny Ryan’s exclusive bird. She believed him when he said that he didn’t do the dirty on her. She still gave Benny what he wanted when he wanted it. The rough sex had stopped now that she was pregnant and for that she was grateful.

But he worried her at times. He changed with the weather and you never knew when he was joking and when he was serious. Like this morning when she had caught him watching her. It unnerved her when he sat and just stared at her like that. He looked weird, and he frightened her.

As if reading her mind Abul said, “Benny loves you, Carol. I have never seen him like this with anyone else.”

She smiled, her sweet face wistful.

“Sometimes I wonder about him, Abul, I really do. I worry something will happen to him.”

He was dismissive of her worries.

“What could happen to him, love? Nothing will happen to Benny.”

She sighed.

“You’re right. But I feel so bad at times. I get scared… He’s involved in so much stuff and I know nothing about any of it.”

Abul shifted uneasily in his seat.

“You don’t need to know anything, Carol, do you?”

She shook her head.

“I suppose not.”

She knew the conversation was closed and they chatted about nothing until the meal was over. As they walked back to their car Abul was pleased the shopping ordeal was over. It was a routine they had been in for a while now. Benny never let Carol do anything alone, including shopping. Now, as well as food and clothes shopping, he had to traipse around baby shops and maternity boutiques as well. Not exactly his idea of a hot day out. Still, he didn’t really mind. It kept Benny appeased, and that was the main thing.

As they drove into the driveway of the bungalow thirty minutes later Abul was surprised to see Benny’s car already parked, but inside the house there was no sign of him. So he put on a pot of coffee while Carol changed out of her creased clothes. She changed about twenty times a day, and as much as he liked her he personally thought she was a little insipid. But it was horses for courses, he supposed.

Abul punched in Benny’s mobile number and waited for it to ring. A voice informed him the mobile phone he was calling was turned off. He was getting worried now but fought to keep the panic from rising. Suddenly he heard a loud terrified scream. Bolting from the kitchen, he burst into the bedroom and was amazed to see a naked Benny lying on the bed, laughing his head off, and a distraught Carol crying her eyes out.

“You rotten bastard, Benny, you scared me!”

He was unable to talk for mirth. Carol was shaking with fear but Abul knew better than to offer anything by way of consolation.

“He jumped out of the fucking wardrobe at me, Abul. The bloody mad bastard!”

Benny was still busting up with manic laughter. Abul, seeing him naked like that, wanted to laugh as well but didn’t. He even looked mad today. His eyes were too bright, and Abul knew that the coke he snorted far too often was not helping these spells of his one bit.

Benny was having one of his mad half-hours. That was how Abul always described them to himself. They occurred now and again, and when they did he was dangerous not only to himself but to everyone around him. He was manic, and he was vicious.

But he was also unable to help what he was doing. Abul remembered the first time he had seen him like this. They had been at school, only young, and the first time he had seen that vacant look come over Benny’s face it had terrified him.

He had gone on to attack the school bully, Jimmy Bond, with a machete. The damage had been limited in reality but he had still ended up in a Detention Centre for three months. It had made Benny’s rep because Jimmy had been a good three years older than him at the time and it had outraged everyone in the school. It had outraged the judge as well, and it was only thanks to Maura Ryan and her contacts that Benny had not gone away for much longer.

It had scared Abul then. Now he was growing bored with it. As Carol ran crying into the en-suite bathroom it occurred to him that no matter what she thought, she certainly didn’t get the best end of the bargain as far as Benny Ryan was concerned.

Benny had stopped laughing and was staring into space. Abul left the room quietly and went back to the kitchen. He sipped a cup of coffee and twenty minutes later Benny was with him, dressed and back to his usual jovial self.

When Carol came into the kitchen, still sniffing, Benny looked at Abul and shrugged his shoulders.

“What the fuck is the matter with her?”

Abul didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.

“Fucking women, eh? Who can understand them?”

Benny carried on drinking his coffee and chatting as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Abul for his part was just glad the episode was over.

Until the next time, of course.

Chapter Eleven

Tommy and Joss were loading his car up with luggage. Tommy was going back to Liverpool to take care of some business that needed the personal touch. Maura was relieved in a way though she didn’t say it. She could cope with Tommy for a week at a time and then he irritated her. She was an independent woman and very set in her ways.

She remembered Michael had been the solitary sort too and wasn’t sure if the memory made her feel any better. He had said that living alone became a habit that was hard to break, and now she understood what he’d meant. It was great to do what you wanted to, when you wanted to, without having to discuss it with anyone. Even Terry had been a trial at times as he liked his routine and never wanted it disturbed. She pushed him from her mind and concentrated on Tommy.

Joss kissed her and held her close in a bear hug as he always did, and she hugged him back. He was a really great man and she liked him a lot. She could smell his aftershave, Paco Rabanne. It always reminded her of her brother Geoffrey. He had worn it and a hint of it always hung around him. She immediately shut off that train of thought. Geoff was dead meat. She had seen to that after his betrayal of Michael.

When Tommy playfully dragged Joss away and kissed her passionately Maura was pleased. She stood on the drive and waved them off. She would miss Tommy, but not too much. She had a lot on her mind and needed time alone to sort herself out. Other than Michael, she had never really shared her thoughts with anyone, not even Terry. Not her work thoughts anyway.

Tony Dooley Junior was making her a cup of tea in the kitchen and she thanked him before going into her den to do some work. She checked her voice mail and when it said she had twelve messages, set about listening to them in a bored, distracted way.

Work held no interest for her today. She felt like she just could not settle for some reason and it bothered her. It was probably all the trouble with Vic.

She stared out of the window at the gardens. They were as usual immaculate and this pleased her. When she remembered the patch of weeds that had passed for a garden when she was a kid it made her happy to see the manicured lawns and perfectly tended borders. She’d hated that poverty, and whatever Michael might have been, anything he had done was to get his family out of it. The same with her too, though at times she wondered why she bothered with it all any more. This business with Vic had really taken it out of her in a lot of ways. She was sick of violence; had had her fill of it. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply on it, smiling her thanks as Tony brought through the pot of tea.

Alone once more, she poured her tea and smoked her cigarette. But her mind strayed once more to her brother Geoffrey. She fancied he was near her. She did sometimes. She felt he had forgiven her, and wished that even after all these years she could forgive him for what he had done. Betraying Michael, abandoning his own brother to the IRA’s tender mercy, was to her the ultimate sin. She still had trouble forgiving her mother for her part in it all: Sarah had found the records Geoff had kept and handed them over to the police, naively believing that if Maura was put in prison the boys would turn away from crime. As if. On some level she could understand her mother’s simple reasoning but she could never understand Geoffrey’s. Jealousy was such a destructive force.

In some ways Carla reminded her of Geoffrey. She had the same quiet way about her: you never knew what she was thinking. She was one-dimensional and it amazed Maura that it was only lately she had even realised that fact.

Good old Carla with the ready smile and the helping hand had never really been a part of anything. It had only recently occurred to Maura that her niece was oddly secretive and that she could also be an arrogant little mare if she didn’t get her own way. Look at her carry on over Maura’s refusal to put up her allowance. Two grand a month and no mortgage, and she reckoned she couldn’t live on that! Ranting and raving to her brother and her father about it! But then again, no one had ever told her no before, had they? All her life she had been handed whatever she wanted on a plate. A golden plate at that. Maura asked herself now if they had done her any favours with their constant giving. She lived in a house they provided, spent their money like water.