The Good Life (3 page)

‘You fucking idiot! Do you know the fucking aggravation you have caused me? Do you? His dad is my fucking mate.’

Johnny Mac went to the door and motioned for two young men, both looking severely uncomfortable, to remove the offending object. Sean was covered in blood now, and was having difficulty breathing. It was a definite hospital job.

When the man had been removed, Johnny Mac poured two large whiskies and gave one to his friend. ‘He meant well, Cain, he was just trying to impress you.’

Cain laughed. His shirt was splattered with blood and his knuckles were grazed, but Johnny could see that his temper was subsiding.

‘Oh, he did that. Fucking moron. He blinded Vic Malone’s lad. I know he took the piss, owed a couple of quid, but that wasn’t any reason to fucking remove the poor little fucker’s eye. Now I have to placate fucking Vic, one of me oldest mates!’

Johnny sighed. ‘Fuck Vic, he shouldn’t have let it get this far.’

Cain laughed. ‘Oh, Johnny, it was fucking
Vic
who requested the lesson in the first place. He wanted his lad to realise the seriousness of getting in over his head.’

They both started laughing at the irony.

‘Well, look on the bright side, Cain − lesson well learned there, I’d say.’

They both dissolved into loud laughter again.

‘Let me change this fucking shirt, I hate the smell of blood. I’m going to have a quick shower. Get someone to clean this place up, will you?’

Cain left the offices and made his way up a rickety flight of stairs to his makeshift bedroom and bathroom. He had made sure he had these facilities for just these kinds of encounters − encounters that were becoming more and more prevalent, if he was honest.

‘Ooh, look at you all done up like a dog’s dinner! On a promise, are we?’

Jennifer Riley looked good and she knew it, but the way her mother spoke it was not a compliment she was offering her daughter but an accusation.

‘Don’t be so silly, Mum. I’m going out with Bella.’

Eileen Riley snorted in derision. She had been drinking steadily all day, and the effects were not pretty. Her flushed face still held traces of her former beauty, but her hands were shaking and her eyes were bloodshot. Even her hair looked drunk, in its mass of knots and dark roots.

‘You’re a fool, Jen, giving it away to fucking schoolboys. You could make a fucking fortune I tell you, girl.’

Jenny could hear the disgust in her mother’s voice but she deliberately ignored it − she wasn’t getting into a slanging match this late in the day.

‘Have you eaten anything, Mum?’

‘“Have you eaten anything, Mum?” Can you hear yourself, Jen? Fuck off out if you’re going, and keep your fucking questions to yourself.’

Jenny shrugged. ‘I’ll take that as a no, then, shall I? Well, there’s bread and milk − at least have a slice of toast.’

Eileen Riley pointedly refilled her glass with cheap wine and said emphatically, ‘Fuck off.’

Jennifer Riley didn’t need to be told twice.

Jenny and Bella Davis were sitting in a pub in Dean Street, both dressed to the nines, and sipping vodka and tonics as if they did it every day of their lives. In truth it was their first real foray into Soho and, at sixteen, they were both completely unaware that they were basically sitting targets. If there was one thing a predator in Soho liked, it was a good-looking girl with no real understanding of the world. Young girls craved excitement, and there were men willing to do everything in their power to see that they got it.

Bella Davis was tiny, with long dark hair and hazel eyes; she had good legs and she knew how to make the best of herself. Jenny Riley, however, was a completely different kettle of fish. Tall for her age, she had the body of an old-time film star, long thick blond hair, and deep blue eyes. She was a real head turner, and men had been looking at her all her life. It was something she accepted now, even though it made her very uncomfortable.

The girls had been smiled at by some good-looking young men, but mainly by
not
very good-looking older men, who had propositioned them into the bargain. While finding this wildly amusing, both were also becoming a bit scared as the night wore on. They had slipped into this pub in the hope of looking glamorous and sophisticated. The barmaid, a strange-looking woman in her forties with non-existent breasts and a suspicious-looking five o’clock shadow, had been watching them like a hawk since they had come in.

The place was livening up, and a tall man wearing a crumpled suit and a practised smile came and sat beside them. He was balding, had tobacco-stained fingers, and smelled like a week-old ashtray. He also sported a gold tooth and a scar that ran from his right eye down to his lip.

‘Hello, ladies, can I get you a drink?’

They both shook their heads in unison.

‘Don’t be shy, girls −’ he placed his hand on Jenny’s knee now − ‘I won’t bite you. Well, not unless you ask me nicely anyway.’ He laughed at his own humour.

‘Leave them alone, Doug, they’re only kids.’ The barmaid was motioning with her head for the girls to leave as she spoke.

Doug gripped Jenny’s thigh harder as he shouted angrily, ‘Keep out of it, you fucking freak, and bring another round of drinks.’

Jenny tried to remove his hand but it was like a claw. ‘We don’t want another drink, thank you. In fact we were just going.’ She tried to sound in control, but she was frightened now, and Bella was pale with fear.

‘You stay there, madam. If you come in here like a couple of fucking tarts, then you should expect to be treated as such. This is Soho, darling, and it’s a different world. Now, if you were thinking of joining the tart brigade I am the very man you need. It’s what I do, see. I
recruit
.’

Jenny swallowed noisily, unsure how to answer. The barmaid brought the drinks over and sighed at the two girls as if to say ‘I tried’. ‘Drink up, girls, next stop Club Louise, eh? DJ Rudy’s in tonight.’

Doug pushed the barmaid away roughly. ‘Why don’t you go and find someone to give a blow job to, and leave us alone, you fucking bender.’

‘Doug, for the last time, they are just kids, leave them alone.’

Doug stood up menacingly, and the barmaid made a hasty retreat. ‘Fucking animals! Men dressed as women, against the laws of nature. Fucking freak.’ The last two words were said loudly, and with as much disgust as he could power into his voice.

Jenny and Bella were truly frightened; their little foray into Soho had turned into a nightmare. Why didn’t they just go to a club? Why did they have to go walking around looking for excitement? No one else in the pub seemed bothered by their obvious distress; in fact, most of the men were trying to act as if they didn’t exist. They sat mutely, neither of them knowing how to extricate themselves from the situation they’d found themselves in.

‘Well, drink up then, girls, the night is young!’

Johnny Mac listened intently as Cain Moran explained the complicated terms he expected for putting up the money needed for a new business venture by Jack Barton.

Jack’s eyes, Johnny noticed, were glazing over with boredom. Not that it would stop Cain − he insisted that people knew beforehand exactly what he expected from them so that way there were no surprised faces anywhere along the line.

‘My percentage of your profits is guaranteed up to three years from the term of the loan. If you’re agreeable, Jack, then the money’s yours.’

Jack Barton was nodding away; he had no idea what the fuck he was agreeing to but, as long as the money was handed over, he didn’t really give a shit.

‘Thirty grand is a lot, Jack. But I know you will pay me back with interest.’

There was an underlying threat there and even the thick-headed Jack Barton couldn’t help but notice it. He was all attention suddenly, as the enormity of what he was asking was finally hitting him.

‘Every penny, Cain, I swear.’

‘Come on then, let’s hit the boozer and have a couple of drinks to seal the deal.’ The telephone on his desk rang and Cain picked it up quickly. ‘Hello, Caroline, how’s the house? Did the new beds arrive?’

He listened intently for a few moments, rolling his eyes at his audience before saying, ‘Look, darling, I’ve got a lot on here. I’ll ring you before I make me way home, OK?’ He ended the call quickly. ‘Her and that fucking house! Five bedrooms for three people. Take my advice, Jack, never agree to anything the wife says while you’re pissed!’

They all laughed.

Doug was enjoying himself; these two little girls were prime meat as far as he was concerned. The young ones thought they were something special with their cheap bags and heavy make-up. But he had been in the Tom game for many years and he knew that they had maybe eight good years before the Life would begin to take its toll on them. Youth dried up − it was the law of nature. He had forced two drinks down them and now they were on their third. When they were pissed enough he would make a quick call and get them picked up. Once they were out of here they were his.

As Cain Moran and Johnny Mac walked in the pub with Jack Barton in tow, the barmaid, Jasmine, as she liked to be called, breathed a sigh of relief. When Cain got to the bar, she said breathlessly, ‘Just the man! Mr Moran, that Doug Havers has earmarked two lovely little girls, and they ain’t Tom material, only kids. Could you . . .’ She left the sentence open.

Cain sighed. ‘Do I look like a fucking social worker to you, Jas?’

Jasmine fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘Pretty please! They are good girls, I can tell, and they are fucking terrified. He’s forced three drinks on them already, large ones and all. Be on their backs in some sleazy hotel before they know what’s happened to them. He’s fucking scum.’

Johnny and Cain looked over to where the girls were sitting and, as he saw the really good-looking one trying to extricate Doug’s hand from near her crotch, Cain sighed heavily and went over with Johnny close behind him.

‘Leave the girl alone, Doug. Take your fucking hands off her.’

Doug looked up in surprise at Cain’s words. ‘Look, Mr Moran, I work for Kenny Barker, and Kenny don’t like his business being interfered with, if you get my drift.’

Cain started to laugh. He could sense the two girls’ fear as if it was tangible. ‘Kenny Barker, that fucking fop. Ooh, I’m fucking shitting it.’ He picked up Doug by the scruff of his neck and marched him out of the pub, throwing him into the gutter. ‘You tell Kenny my offices are just up the road and my fucking door is always open. If I don’t see him by tomorrow with an apology for making threats, I will be coming to visit him. You got that, you fucking imbecile?’

He went back into the pub where Johnny was already sitting beside the little dark-haired girl with the big eyes, holding a steady arm around her shoulder as she cried with relief. The other one, the blonde, was staring at him with a white face that looked so terrified he thought she might faint. Sighing heavily, he sat beside her and, smiling a little, he said lightly, ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be hearing from him again, love.’

Jasmine brought over large whiskies for Cain and Johnny. ‘On the house, boys, for saving our little damsels in distress.’ Looking at the girls she said seriously, ‘Stick to the clubs in future. Much safer, OK?’

The two girls nodded and tried to smile. Johnny put a finger under Bella’s chin and pulled her face towards his, saying, ‘What these two need, Cain, is a bit of food inside them to soak up all that alcohol.’

Cain sighed. Johnny was his best mate and he loved him, but he was always on the lookout for strange. Caroline would kill him if he was late home tonight of all nights. But he was peckish so, swallowing down the whisky, he said resignedly, ‘We can take Jack with us. Let’s go to the Italian around the corner.’

He had to help the blonde to stand up, annoyed that he had been put in this position in the first place. In all fairness she was a lovely looking girl − young, but still a stunner. Even half pissed and with her make-up smudged, she was a definite nine on anyone’s scale. He thought of Caroline and sighed. He hadn’t wanted this new house. She was the one who thought they needed a great big fuck-off place, so he let her deal with it all. The last thing he needed today was her mother Jane and her aunt Dolly scurrying about like worker ants.

He half carried Jennifer Riley out into Dean Street and manoeuvred her to the restaurant with the help of Jack. He was being a good Samaritan and, as his old mum always said, you have to help people when they are vulnerable and in need.

Despite his protestations, he knew what he would like to help this one with, young as she was.

Caroline Moran looked around her new home with satisfaction. It was big and beautiful, befitting the Moran Clan, as she liked to call them. Trouble with Cain was he didn’t understand that an up-and-coming businessman like himself needed to let people see his status. In many ways, he was a child where the real world was concerned. That was why he had married her, or one of the reasons anyway − being pregnant with young Michael being the main one, of course.

She smiled suddenly and it lit up her beautiful face. She loved that man, as irritating as he could be at times. He would be happy living in a flat, if truth be told. But she knew how to get what she wanted from him − that was the main thing.

Oh, she was well aware he took the occasional flier with another woman. That was OK; you couldn’t have a man like Cain Moran and not expect some kind of competition. When Cain was out and about with another woman he usually snuck into her bed, half pissed and smelling of shampoo and expensive soap. And, as long as he didn’t flaunt them in her face, she was happy to turn a blind eye. They were always very pretty − and very short-lived. Cain loved her – she was his wife, after all, and that was what really mattered.

She walked into her brand-new kitchen and sighed with happiness. This house was just another investment in their futures, and one day he would thank her for insisting they buy it, even if he was a bit peeved with her about it at the moment.