The Good Life (32 page)

Later on he would be meeting his new-found brother for a few drinks, and he was really looking forward to it. His life had certainly taken a turn for the better. Now he just wanted his mother to get well enough to go back home, even if he had a feeling that might be a long way off. The staff at the hospital were very good, though, and they knew his mum from old. When he took leave of her this time she didn’t even acknowledge him, but he kissed her anyway.

Cain Junior and Jenny Moran were together in the Soho offices; this was where Jenny did most of her accounting for the businesses they ran. The bets were booming and, the deeper the recession grew, the more people gambled. It was a strange but true fact. Everyone wanted a big payday and they wanted it fast. The clubs would always make money – that was a given – and other businesses were proficient earners all year round.

As they sat chatting over a coffee, the talk inevitably came round to Michael Moran.

‘Your dad was thrilled to talk to him – he can’t wait to get a VO sorted so he can see him in the flesh.’

Cain grinned. ‘He’s a really lovely bloke, Mum. He’s had a fucking life of it with his mum, hasn’t he? He’s so patient with her. I really do feel sorry for him.’

Jenny shrugged. ‘It’s like he says: she can’t help it. I wish I had known that myself all those years ago. I hated her for what she did to me, but in a way I feel I deserved it. I mean, I took her old man away.’

She was struggling to be fair, but it was hard. In the end Caroline Moran had taken far more away from Jenny.

‘I know all about it, Mum, Nanny told me everything. I can understand why you hate her.’

Jenny sighed in annoyance. ‘Her and her fucking big trap! She should never have said anything.’

Cain Junior smiled. ‘At least Michael doesn’t know. Mind you, he’s always hanging about with Nanny at her club so in all likelihood he will find out eventually. He calls her his drag nanny and she loves it.’

Jenny laughed. ‘He fits in well, bless him, considering the circumstances. Is he seeing anyone at the moment? He is a good-looking man.’

Cain Junior waved away the question. ‘I don’t ask him things like that. It’s his business, though he does mention a friend called Alan quite regularly.’

Jenny laughed happily. ‘Good, he deserves to have someone in his life. I can’t believe how that poor fucker was brought up. Even his aunt Dolly took a step back years ago because she’d had enough.’

Cain shrugged again. He was so like his father and Jenny felt a sudden sting of tears.

‘It’s clear that you’re brothers – you are both like the spit out of Cain Moran’s mouth! It’s lovely for me – a bit like having your dad back.’

‘You really miss him, don’t you?’

Jenny smiled the tight little smile she always reserved for such questions. ‘I made my decision . . . I don’t regret it. I love your dad with everything I am and I must have him in my life. I know people think I’m a mug, but the heart wants what the heart wants. I am not saying it has been easy, but I have made a life of sorts for us.’

‘Mum, you are fucking awesome, and I really admire you. Linda loves the bones of you too. I can’t believe we are having a baby – it’s scary and exciting at the same time.’

‘You’ve got a good girl there; you look after her.’

She meant every word she said – Linda was terrific. Jenny was so happy with her life at the moment; the only thing that could make it better was if her husband was back. But she was a realist, and had learned many years ago that it isn’t always possible to get what you want. She laughed at that. The Stones knew what they were talking about.

‘It’ll be Christmas soon. Just think, Cain, this time next year there will be a baby to celebrate it with!’

Cain Junior laughed now in delight. ‘God, I never thought of it like that! I hope it’s a boy. I fancy myself as a footballing dad.’

‘It’ll be a while before you’re doing that, mate! I wouldn’t mind if it’s a little girl – I always wanted a daughter.’ There was a trace of sadness in her voice and, getting up from his chair, Cain Junior walked around the desk and hugged his mother tightly.

‘Well, if we don’t get one this time, maybe the next one will be a girl, eh? We like the idea of having a big family.’

They were laughing now as Jenny said, ‘Well, just see how she goes after the first one. She might find she wants to wait a while before having any more!’

‘I expect you’re right, Mum. By the way, have you heard from Hasan or Ali Osman? I was supposed to meet them tonight for an update and I can’t get either of them on the phone.’

Jenny shook her head, looking puzzled. ‘That’s not like Hasan. He’s usually a stickler for meets. Maybe something came up. He will be in touch though – don’t worry.’

Cain picked up his car keys and kissed him mum on the cheek before walking out of the offices and heading back to his work.

Hasan Osman was a very worried man. His brother Ali was completely out of control and Hasan had no idea what to do about it. He pulled into the lot of his car dealership and rushed into the building, seriously afraid of what he might find.

Ali was standing inside the dealership with the air of a mad man, his eyes blazing. He was surrounded by three men who were staring at the beaten and bloody figure on the floor in front of them. In his hand Ali held a large blood-stained wrench; he looked like something from a horror film. As Hasan took in the battered young man he sighed heavily. There was brain fluid leaking from his skull; Hasan hoped he’d died quickly. He went to his brother and gently took the wrench, then motioned for the men to clear the boy away.

‘Who was he?’

The tallest of the three men answered quietly. ‘Zafar. He’s newly over from Izmir. A mechanic, with two little kids . . .’

Hasan closed his eyes in distress. This was getting worse by the moment.

‘What the fuck were you thinking, Ali?’

His brother was coming out of his daze and looked around as if he wasn’t sure where he was.

‘He was staring at me – fucking blatantly staring at me. Snidey cunt.’

Hasan was beside himself with anger. ‘He was a fucking mechanic, Ali! A grease monkey. All of twenty-two years old and with a wife and kids he was trying to provide for. He was probably wondering if you were the full fucking ten bob. You look like a fucking mad man. When was the last time you slept?’

Ali stared at his brother, his anger building up inside him. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are talking to? You might be my older brother but I’ve sussed you right out, mate. You and that fucking piece of shit Moran. I know exactly what is going on and I ain’t got to listen to anyone. I will do what the fucking fuck I want, when I fucking want. You and your fucking boyfriend can lick Jason Biggs’s arse all you want. Don’t mean I’m going to be doing the same.’

Hasan was incensed with rage and frustration.

‘Listen to yourself, Ali! You just can’t get it into your thick fucking head that this is all for the best. Cain Moran is a shrewd man, and you would do well to listen to him occasionally. If he thinks Jason Biggs is worth cultivating then I think he is right. We might need him one day.’

Ali started laughing. ‘Well, not me, Hasan. Not me.’ With that, he exited the building, leaving his brother to clean up his mess once more. Hasan had just about had enough of his brother’s antics and, following him outside, he called his name. When Ali turned to answer, Hasan Osman gave him the hiding of a lifetime.

After he had finished, he pulled Ali up from the floor by the collar of his jacket and said to him angrily, ‘That was just a fucking taster. Get yourself sorted out and get off the fucking gear. Until you do, I don’t want to see you. Now fuck off home and have a fucking wash – you stink.’

As Ali began to wipe the blood from his eyes, Hasan added quietly, ‘Oh, and one last thing, bruv, you better sort out compensation for that poor cunt’s wife and family. Fucking staring at you! Are you completely fucking stupid?’

The disgust in his brother’s voice was worse than the physical beating Ali had just been given.

Hasan Osman went back into the building and started to organise the clean-up operation. This was the last thing he needed today: a needless murder by a brother who had lost himself to drugs. How he was going to hush this up he didn’t know, but money usually had a funny way of shutting mouths. He was so disappointed in Ali. If push came to shove, he would have to take his brother out personally. The way Ali was carrying on, it was only a matter of time before someone would take it upon themselves to do the dirty deed. At least Hasan would do it humanely.

Ali was an accident waiting to happen, and if this little lot didn’t make him come to his senses, then sooner or later someone else would.

Jason Biggs was at his latest girlfriend’s flat in Manchester city centre. She was a game bird this one, a bit older than his usual squeezes, but there was definitely something about her. Maybe it was her experience. She was up for literally anything and – more to the point – she enjoyed it as much as he did. She was also argumentative and, after the act was finished, she liked a cuddle and a bit of a chat. What she didn’t appreciate was him having to get dressed and go home when it was all over; she didn’t quite understand this part of shagging a married man. At least not when it suited her.

He was anticipating the fight of the night as he prepared himself to leave and, when his phone rang, he answered it quickly. It was his brother, Jack, calling to arrange a meet for later that evening. They would be seeing a crew from Liverpool who wanted to put a proposition to them. He arranged to meet at his club before putting the phone away.

Lorraine was lying naked on the bed, watching him distastefully. She had amazing eyes that could flash from bright blue to a steely grey in nanoseconds.

‘Come on, Loll, you heard me. I have a meet to get to.’

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Jason Biggs pulled his trousers on as quickly as was humanly possible. He knew she had a penchant for throwing objects and the last thing he needed was a fucking dirty great cut-glass ashtray winging its way towards his head – she had good taste, he’d give her that. Biggs wasn’t silly, there was no way he was going to chance a shower; he would have one at the club before the meet.

Lorraine sat up, lighting the remains of a joint and, as the hot cinders fell on to her naked breasts, he had to suppress a laugh. She jumped off the bed trying desperately to put them out; hardly the sophisticated look she’d been aiming for but he didn’t mention anything. She wasn’t stoned yet, and that meant she was still capable of a punch-up if the fancy took her.

He clearly liked the fiery-natured ones – his wife was a prime example. She was another who could fight like a man when the fancy took her. He’d have to have a rethink on the bird front. He was getting too old for all this drama, and it was tiring into the bargain – especially after two hours of solid shagging. A fucking Olympic weightlifter couldn’t raise it now, and he knew she’d want one last go before he left. She always did.

He was fully dressed now and Lorraine was lying provocatively on the bed once more, her legs open and her smile telling him that the sooner he fucked her the better.

‘I got to go, darling. It’s been lovely . . .’

She got up, pulling on a short, black silk dressing gown that barely covered her perfectly round arse. He was getting tempted. Bending towards her, he kissed her long and hard before pushing her away firmly. He said gently, ‘I’ve really got to go, babe.’

She made a grab for him then and he stepped away from her deftly. As he walked to the bedroom door he felt a wineglass whizz past his head and saw it smash against the wall in front of him. Red wine was everywhere – all over his suit and on the floor.

‘You can’t just fucking use people, Jason!’

He turned towards her then, saying darkly, ‘You have ruined my suit. Fucking red wine, you silly bitch.’

This was what she liked, what she craved, the excitement of fighting a hard man and seeing how far she could push him. She launched herself at him but he was ready for her, and the fight started in earnest. Lorraine threw punches and kicks left, right and centre, and Jason Biggs did his best to avoid the blows and subdue her. After a frantic five minutes he finally had Lorraine pinned back on the bed. Then she did her usual party piece and burst into uncontrollable sobbing. Though he was worn out, he did as was required, hugging her and kissing her, telling her he was sorry and that he would stay longer the next time.

‘There won’t be a next time. You can fuck off, Jason! I’ve had enough of you.’

He got up off the bed, annoyed to see the wine was spreading. A fucking grand the suit had set him back – grey silk – and now it was wrecked.

‘Fair enough, Loll. If that’s what you want.’

She knelt up and said, ‘You know it’s not what I want, Jase, but I hate it when you have to go. It feels like you only use me for sex.’

He could have pointed out that was exactly what was going on but knew better than to speak the truth at moments like this.

‘I love you, Jason.’

That was the last fucking thing he needed. ‘No, you don’t, Loll. Come on, darling.’

He tried to sneak a look at his watch as he was holding her but she caught him in the bedroom mirror. The blow to his nuts was quick, hard and painful. Then the fight started up again, only this time it was him doubled up on the bed in agony and Lorraine had the advantage.

When he finally subdued her, she started to cry again and he sighed impatiently. During the fight, her dressing gown had come off and, as he’d held her down, he’d got a very good look at her in the full-length mirror beside the bed.

‘I want you to fuck off out of my life, Jason Biggs, and leave me to find someone who cares about me.’

‘All right then, Loll, I’ll do that if it makes you happy.’ He let go of her carefully; she was capable of anything.

She turned on her side and wiped her eyes tragically. ‘I mean it, Jason, don’t call me any more. We are finished.’