The Business (42 page)

So, smiling her professional smile, she finally looked at the man who had decided he wanted a quick fuck or an even quicker blow job.

‘Hello, Mel, long time no see.’ Basil looked good and he knew it. He also knew that whatever Imelda had taken to send her to the moon was now bringing her down faster than an anvil in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. He was pleased to note that she was frightened of him, and so she fucking should be. He was her worst nightmare, and he knew that, wanted to be that.

‘What do you want, Basil?’

He looked her over as if she was so much dirt he had picked up on the bottom of his expensive, hand-made shoes and said seriously, ‘Not you, darling, that’s for sure. If the bomb dropped and we were the only two people left on this earth, civilisation would have to die out.’

Chapter Eighteen

Imelda was crashing back down to earth with a vengeance. The high that she had been enjoying so much until now had turned into a paranoid nightmare within seconds of her recognition of the man who had nearly killed her, and who had taken great pleasure in it.

She had not held a grudge as such, she had taken her punishment and accepted that the general consensus was that she had deserved it. She knew that she was not the most popular of women, she also knew that her lifestyle would always be held against her. She had had no choice but to swallow and, in fairness, she had done just that.

Seeing him in the flesh, though, was a different ball game altogether. She knew Basil would always be her Achilles heel, he was the one person in the world who
could
frighten her, could make her feel nervous. She also noticed that he was looking really good, he had aged well. In fact, he looked better now than he had looked all those years ago. She was conscious of her own failings suddenly, was bothered by her scarred face and her broken body. He had done this to her, had made sure that she had suffered at his hands, not just physically but mentally, and she had accepted the former and disregarded the latter. She had never understood people who allowed their emotions to dictate their lives; it had happened, get over it.

Basil had wanted her desperately, she had always known that. Even though he was the opposite of her she had known that he was capable of deep and dangerous feelings. Like Jimmy Bailey he had not been able to resist her. He had hidden his feelings from the world, and when he had finally turned on her, she had known that it was personal. He had wanted to hurt her for a long time, all he had lacked was a reason. Once he had acquired that, he had really gone to town on her. She bore the scars to prove it. She knew that to feel that kind of hate, you needed to be able to feel that kind of love. There was a fine line between the two. Basil had not just hurt her, he had
maimed
her. However, he had killed Jed, so she felt she had come off lightly. She knew that if he had wanted it, she would have been dead.

The severity of his attack had told her that she was finished in their world. She had accepted that without a thought too, she’d had to, she had no choice in the matter.

Once something like that happened to you, there was no going back. She’d known then that, if she had any sense at all, she had to keep away from everyone and everything she had ever known. She had to keep a low profile for a while, and she had. She had played the fucking game to the letter.

In fact, she had not only needed to escape from Basil’s disgust but, more importantly, from his angry bitterness and hatred. His beating had been delivered in a cold and calculated manner. He had enjoyed inflicting it.

She had eventually recovered from her physical wounds, had been grateful to come out of it with her life intact.

He was more than capable of killing her himself, after all, he had not paid anyone else to do the dirty deed for him. It had been personal, and she had allowed for that. That he was in a position where he could call on any number of friends or associates to do the dirty deed for him had spoken volumes. She had been foolish enough to believe that she could have him over. She had believed that she had been capable of controlling him. At the time, she had really thought she could get away with it, had been willing to blame Jed for it all. It had simply never occurred to her until then that her dealings might be found out, might be misconstrued by the people she dealt with. The downside of the chemical cosh was that you did not know just how fucking cuntish you had been until it was too late. She knew better now, she understood that she had made a really big mistake. She had underestimated him, and he had shown her the error of her ways. Imelda could only hope that he was not here now for a return match of some sort.

Basil saw the scars she still carried upon her person and he felt every one of the blows he had delivered on to her face and body as if for the first time. He had made sure that she had been destroyed physically. And, God help him, he had enjoyed her demise, had loved every second of it.

Now though, after all this time, seeing the damage he had inflicted on her, and seeing the way she had overcome it, he felt a sneaking respect for her. She was one hard fuck when all was said and done. He knew men who could not have survived that level of violence and still had their balls intact.

Imelda Dooley had been in hospital for months, and that had assuaged his colossal anger towards her just a little, had caused the hate he felt for her to finally abate.

He saw her terror of what he might do to her this time, and he liked the feeling that gave him. He knew that he had finally shown her that no one was beyond retribution. Even her. Imelda had needed to fear someone. Until he had put her in her place, she had always been the person who had caused the fear. Until he had chastised her, hurt her, she had never quite understood the power that fear could produce.

She did now, though, he could see it in her eyes, in her body language. ‘Are you going to hurt me again, Basil, is that what this is about?’ Even her voice was different, she was still trying to play it cool, trying to act like she was not that scared. But she was not convincing him, or herself for that matter.

Basil saw the livid scars on her forehead, knew that they would not fade for many more years and he knew that every time she looked at them she thought of him.

She was like a parody of her former self. He knew she had not really changed, not internally anyway. She was still the same junkie piece of shit she had always been, only now she was frightened of someone. She was frightened of him, of his power, of his anger.

He lit another cigarette and, looking out of the windscreen, he said softly, ‘If I wanted you hurt, Mel, you would be hurting by now, believe me.’

She nodded almost imperceptibly and relaxed a little, assuming he wanted her to tell him something, or find out something for him. She assumed he was after something from her, needed something from her.

‘So, what do you want then, Basil? Why are you here?’

He saw the sweat that had enveloped her whole body, could smell it coming off her. It had a faint uric tang to it, and he knew she was not aware of it. Imelda was only aware of the desperate need to put more drugs inside her. He had a feeling that the drugs she craved would be in even greater demand than usual after this visit. He knew that his arrival into her useless fucking world had thrown her off course, she was so wrapped up in herself that she had given no real thought for why he might have encouraged her to get into his nice clean motor. She assumed, as always, that this was about
her
.

‘You are drenched, Mel, do you sweat like this often?’

He was genuinely interested. She was now so wet that her clothes were sticking to her body, not that he was that interested in her body these days. She was like a fucking doughboy, and she was beginning to smell like one into the bargain.

‘What do you want from me, Basil? Don’t prolong the fucking agony, tell me what’s going on. What I’ve done this time, or what you want from me, should that be the case.’

He laughed then, she was so fucking different. Gone was the arrogance and the need to fight her end, no matter what. Gone was the feisty girl who had no fear of anyone or anything, who believed that the fact she wanted something was reason enough for her to demand it. Take it. Who saw the world from her point of view only, didn’t see it as something that was to be shared. Didn’t see it as something that was also the domain of billions of other people, all living their lives quite happily without her interference. He had cowed her, so he had achieved something at least. He had done a good job on her. He had often wished he had finished her off, but seeing her like this, he was pleased that she had survived his anger and his hatred.

Seeing her like this was like a balm to him, seeing her so humble was worth all the money he had amassed, and he had a lot of money, even by so-called rich people’s standards. He was worth a fucking fortune. She knew that, and he also knew that she did not give a flying fuck about it. He had always known that she had earned, but providing she had enough to score she was actually quite happy.

‘I have always known where you were, Mel, I made it my business to know that. I am here to tell you that if you
ever
go near your fucking kids again, you will be hunted down like a fucking dog and, this time, lady, you will be disposed of permanently. That is a promise.’

Basil saw the bewilderment that his words had caused and he knew then that she had not even thought about her children at all.

Imelda laughed at his words, her whole body language telling him she was amazed to even hear her kids mentioned.

‘What you on about? I don’t want to fucking see them, either of them, why would I? If I had wanted to, I would have seen them long before now.’

Imelda was genuinely bewildered by his words. But she sussed out what was wrong in seconds and knew that she was being warned away. Like she needed to be told. She had no interest in her kids anyway.

‘Is this about Jordanna? Only, I did not even know who she was. She came over to
me
, mate. I was not in the market for long-lost kids, I was after a bit of nifty, that was all. I would have been none the fucking wiser if she had not felt the urge to come over and reveal her identity. I half expected Jimmy Savile to turn up.’

Basil knew that this woman was a hard fuck, knew that she was without any scruples, was devoid of any kind of love or care. He had always known that about Mel, yet her complete absence of memories or even a mild interest in her kids, still had the power to blow his mind. He knew she was just being honest, knew she had no care or want of her children and that she was incapable of anything even remotely resembling love.

He was a second away from beating this woman to the ground once more. Imelda Dooley was a fucking nightmare, she was the only person on God’s green earth who made him feel that murder was not a deadly sin. In her case it would be classed as a mercy killing, mainly for all the people she had ever been near or by. Especially her children.

‘She don’t want to see you, Mel. I am here for your mother and your kids, we want you to know that if you ever see any of them again, you had better walk away from them. You need to leave them alone. Jordanna was devastated that you did not even know who she was. Did you really not recognise her, your own daughter? Can you imagine what that feels like to a young girl? Her own mother doesn’t even have the sense to know her own child? Then, when she finally gets up the nerve to approach you, you mug her off, treat her like a
cunt
. You shout at her in front of her mates. Do you think anyone is going to let you get away with that? Did you honestly think no one was going to give you a tug at some point?’

Imelda was angry herself now, she was being criticised and threatened for something she did not feel was in any way her fault. ‘Look, Basil. I didn’t know
who
she was. I am sorry for that, but it’s the truth. She came over to
me
, and I was not expecting a fucking relation to jump out of the woodwork, know what I mean? I was as shocked as you are. I won’t just run if I see her again, I’ll fucking invest in a set of roller skates, but believe me, I do not want to see her again any more than she wants to see me.’

Basil knew Imelda was telling the truth, he knew that Jordanna was the person who had initiated contact and, God love her, she had expected her mother to have at least known who she was. How Imelda had not seen the likeness between the two of them was fucking outrageous. But then he knew that Imelda was never really interested in her surroundings. She looked, but she didn’t really
see
anything. She was only interested in her own doings, in her own dramas. But poor Jordanna, the child who Imelda had used and abused as the fancy took her. To realise at such a young age that your own mother had no recollection of you, and still had no interest in you even when she was informed of who you were. That had to hurt, that had to really make you feel like you were nothing.

Basil faced Imelda then, saw the utter confusion in her eyes, and knew that as bad as she was, she had been honest when she said she had not recognised her own child. He also knew that she was unable to see what the problem was anyway. As far as she was concerned, it was over with, finished, it was done.

But then, Imelda had never understood the consequences of her actions. She had always believed that she could walk away from anything, that she could talk her way out of any situation. She had learnt the hard way that no one was beyond reproach. Especially where he was concerned. She had been made to see the error of her ways.

But he wondered now what had she really learnt from his beating. She was still without any kind of morality. She was still living the life of a junkie. Only, as usual, she was looking quite good on it, considering.

‘Can you honestly sit there and tell me that you didn’t even have an inkling that your own daughter was nearby? She is your fucking ringer, Mel, like the spit out of your mouth. She knew who you were from the off. Even after all this time.’