Dishonour Page 24

  Yvonne’s cheeks pinked. Nobody had ever said they needed her before. Her tone was soft as she spoke to Laila. ‘I know it isn’t easy for you, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to look after you, but I need you to help me too Laila. I need you to try. Just try. Do you think you can do that?’

  Laila nodded her head and a moment later the two friends embraced in the middle of Lewisham High Street, giving each other a much-needed hug. Feeling slightly daft and pulling away, Yvonne grinned at Laila. ‘Right then, we better get a move on.’

  ‘Where we going?’

  ‘Going to meet a fella in Soho. His name’s Johno Porter; my contact says he’ll sort us out.’

  Johno Porter went into his pocket to get out a packet of cigarettes. He passed one to Yvonne as he talked. ‘Rent by the end of the week. Rule one is, I don’t want trouble. Rule two, no working the streets. There’ll be other girls sharing the main rooms with you, but you’ll have your own bedroom. You’ll also share the maid, who’ll be my eyes and ears. Sometimes I’ll need you to do some work for me.’

  Yvonne’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Johno. Her contact had told her that as pimps went, he was one of the better ones. Working for Johno meant they could rent rooms from him both to work and live in. They were clean, secure and most importantly they were safe. ‘What kind of work?’

  ‘Parties, special clients. Problem with that?’

  ‘No. But it’ll only be me who does that. She doesn’t.’ Yvonne nodded to Laila who was standing on the pavement outside the walk-up in Greek Street.

  ‘What? Is her pussy made out of gold? Does she think she’s too good to be a whore? Because if it looks like one, smells like one and moves like one, then in my experience, it is one.’

  ‘Leave her be.’

  Johno snarled, taken aback by the front of this Northern girl. ‘I’d watch your mouth if I was you.’

  Yvonne wanted to tell Johno where to stick it. Instead, she just lit up, blowing the smoke out and into the path of a passing stranger. Johno eyeballed Yvonne, who matched his stare and held it as long as he did. It was Johno who gave in first, begrudgingly respecting the feistiness of Yvonne.

  ‘Fine. What’s her name anyway?’

  Yvonne’s mind went blank, before saying the first name which came into her mind. ‘Janie. Her name’s Janie.’

  34

  Ray-Ray Thompson stood in his mum’s bedroom looking into the mirror. He never knew why he looked; the despair he felt never waned when he saw his reflection. It was as if a tiny part of him hoped that when he looked, his face wouldn’t be so scarred, so disfigured. But of course it always was, and each time his circle of misery began all over again. As he stood staring, Laila came into his thoughts, but he pushed her away. Not wanting to see her beautiful face in his mind. Not wanting to remember how she made him feel. Not wanting to remember what the nurse had said.

  He’d become a person of the night, rarely adventuring out during the day. The stares, the looks, the comments from passing strangers had made him feel ashamed of who he was. If he’d wanted to, he could do as his father had always done and resort to violence at every comment and sly gaze he got, but where did it stop? He’d end up having to spend his days fighting and already he was tired. Sometimes, even too tired to get up in the morning. So instead of going out during the day he found it easier to sit with the toms, the boozers and the lost souls of the night in one of his father’s clubs. Seen, but left alone.

  ‘All right babe? We’re going out. Let me have a look at you.’ Tasha came into the room followed by her sister, Linda. Tash walked up to him and stroked his face. Ray-Ray never knew if she touched his face to help her come to terms with the way he looked, or if it was to help him come to terms with it, showing him there was at least one person who was still willing to touch him. Either way it made him feel uncomfortable and the pity in her eyes when she looked at him always made him pull away.

  Ray-Ray held Tasha’s wrists gently, pulling her hands away from his face. ‘Don’t Mum. Please.’

  ‘Babe, I want to.’

  ‘And I don’t want you to.’

  ‘What you need is a good woman, she’ll sort you out.’

  Ray-Ray’s smile faded, and seeing it disappear, Tasha knew straight away she’d made a mistake saying such a stupid comment to her son. She reached out to him, but he turned away from her. ‘Ray-Ray.’

  His tone was hard when he answered. ‘Don’t apologise. It only makes it worse.’

  ‘Stop making out you’re some sort of monster, darling.’

  Ray-Ray raised his voice. ‘Look at me. Just look at me. Would you want to be with someone who looked like me? Well, would you?’

  ‘Ray-Ray, please.’

  ‘No, don’t fucking Ray-Ray me. Answer the question.’

  ‘Darling, you’re an incredible person. A girl would be lucky to have someone like you, ain’t that right Linda?’

  Ray-Ray banged his fist on the side table. ‘You still ain’t answered me.’

  Tasha shook her head, wiping away the tears which were already pouring down her face. ‘Don’t do this to yourself babe.’

  Ray-Ray walked back across to his mother. He pulled her to him, putting his face close to hers. ‘Look at it, look at it properly and then tell me it’s the face someone would want to wake up and see each morning. Tell her Auntie Linda, tell her. I want to hear her tell me the truth. I’m sick of hearing her crap. Tell me what you see when you look at me? What would you see if I was a stranger to you?’

  Linda walked between the two of them, looking hesitantly at Tasha then back at Ray-Ray. The tension he was holding in his shoulders was let go and his whole body stooped in weariness as he listened to his auntie talk.

  ‘I’m not going to lie to you darling; you ain’t no oil painting, but that don’t matter. I believe there’s a special somebody for everyone and that special somebody will be able to see beyond the scars on your face.’

  ‘What the bleeding hell is going on? I could hear raised voices from outside. I felt right at home.’

  Freddie Thompson stood in the door grinning. Tasha blanched whilst Ray-Ray ran up to his dad to give him a hug.

  ‘Dad, it’s good to see you. I didn’t know you were coming.’

  ‘That was the plan, can’t have the Old Bill knowing I’m here. Alright Lind?’ Freddie smiled at Linda then winked at his son but avoided looking directly into his face, unwilling to look at the damage. He bent round to look at Tasha. ‘Ain’t I even going to get a hello?’

  ‘Hello Freddie.’

  ‘You could try looking pleased to see me.’

  Linda looked at Ray-Ray, knowing it was their cue to leave. A moment later, Freddie stood alone opposite Tasha. She looked good, but then she always did.

  ‘It’s good to be back Tash; you’re looking well.’

  Tasha said nothing and Freddie could sense the tension. Hating his wife’s silence, he tried to push the conversation further.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘You’re taking a risk coming back here, but yeah, I’m as good as can be expected.’

  Freddie worked hard to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Tasha turned to face Freddie. ‘You should’ve warned me you were coming home. I’m just supposed to smile and put up with it?’

  ‘I need to warn my own wife her husband’s coming home?’

  ‘I was getting used to being on me own.’

  Freddie was surprised how hurt he felt by Tasha’s words but he still kept control over his emotions, talking quietly, but aware he was gripping the door handle.

  ‘Then babe, you’ll have to get un-used to being on your own, cos I’m here to stay.’

  ‘Not in here you’re not.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You heard Freddie. I’m not sharing a bed with you. I’ll share the house, but for the time being, that’s all.’

  It was too much for him. Freddie lost it and exploded, standing up
in pent-up frustration.

  ‘There’s someone else ain’t there? This is what it’s all about.’

  Tasha ran across the room in anger and threw a pillow at Freddie which missed but landed on the vase of roses, knocking them everywhere.

  ‘You see that’s it. This is the problem, right here. The reason I can’t just pick up from where we left off. You ain’t changed Freddie; but I have darling, and shouting at me as if you’ve got a nasty case of constipation certainly won’t work.’

  ‘Okay, I’m sorry. I’m a jealous man but I’ve got reason to be; look at you, you’re beautiful.’

  ‘Oh turn it in Freddie. I ain’t the schoolgirl you met in the club. It’s not about your jealousy anyway.’

  Freddie looked at Tasha, full of sincerity. ‘Is it women’s problems?’

  Tasha didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She raised her eyebrows as well as her voice. ‘Women’s problems?’

  ‘Yeah, I thought you might have them.’

  ‘No it’s fucking not. My problem, Freddie, is with you.’

  ‘I’ve only just walked through the door, what have I done?’

  ‘You can honestly stand there and look me in the face wondering what you’ve done?’

  Freddie pulled a baffled face. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You asked somebody to kill me Freddie. To take me up to the moors and put a bullet in my head.’

  ‘Oh, that.’

  Tasha brought her hand back and slapped Freddie across the face. The first time she’d ever done it. He looked at her, not quite knowing how to react.

  ‘Yes, that Freddie. Did it just slip your mind darling? Did it slip your mind you got someone to make me kneel down as they put a gun to the back of me head?’

  ‘I didn’t know he was going to do that.’

  ‘Well what did you think he was going to do? How else would you have wanted him to kill me? Did you think about Ray-Ray in all this? And what he would’ve done without me? No, you didn’t, because you’re a selfish bastard Freddie Thompson. I don’t even know if I love you any more. And another thing, hell would have to freeze over before I shared a bed with a man who wanted me dead.’

  ‘All right son? How you doing mate?’ Freddie sat down next to Ray-Ray, picking up the other controller of the PlayStation. He clicked to join the game and began to start shooting, staring at the screen, almost on autopilot. ‘You won’t beat me. I was D-wing’s reigning champion.’

  ‘I think I’ve put enough hours in myself as it happens.’

  There was a pause before Freddie said anything else.

  ‘Your mum told me you never go out, or only at night.’

  ‘I’m surprised she talked to you long enough to tell you that.’

  Freddie grinned as he blew up one of the enemy soldiers.

  ‘Yeah well, she did. That and throw a pillow at me, telling me what a useless husband I’ve been.’

  Ray-Ray spoke seriously but there was no maliciousness to his voice. ‘Well you have, haven’t you?’

  Freddie smiled. ‘I expect my son to back me up, not stick another bleeding knife in.’

  ‘Just telling you the truth Dad. She’s hurt; she hasn’t told me why, but I know Mum.’

  Freddie glanced at Ray-Ray, regretting it immediately as he was shot down and lost another life on the game. He had to respect Tasha for not saying anything. She would’ve known as much as he did how much it would’ve irrevocably damaged his and Ray-Ray’s relationship if his son ever found out he’d put a hit on her. A lot of women he knew would’ve been chomping at the bit to tell all, so it was really fair play to Tasha. ‘She told me she didn’t love me.’

  ‘Have you ever told her you do?’

  ‘She knows I love her.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because she wants for bleeding nothing.’

  ‘For women it ain’t enough. They want to hear it.’

  ‘You something of an expert?’

  ‘What do you think Dad?’

  Freddie put his controller down. ‘I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing for me to say. If only you could try to remember who did this to you. One of them hypnotherapists or shit might work.’

  ‘Dad, I don’t want to go through this again. I don’t remember. Just leave it. I have.’

  ‘But I can’t leave it. I don’t want to. It eats me up inside to think the person who did this to you is still whistling down the wind. Christ, Ray-Ray, don’t you want revenge?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ Freddie said disbelievingly. ‘Look at you!’

  Ray-Ray got up from his chair. His tone levelled with the icy glare his father was giving him. ‘Yeah, look at me. Me, Dad, not you. My face, my problem, my revenge.’

  ‘Why are you so flipping stubborn? I sprung out for you.’

  ‘No, you did it for you. You just went ahead and did what felt right for you. I didn’t want you to.’

  ‘You aren’t thinking straight. You don’t know what you want.’

  Ray-Ray’s voice was loud and he could feel the pain in his eye from where his blocked tear ducts were trying to cry.

  ‘Why can’t you respect me enough to listen to me? Don’t you think I haven’t agonised over it? Don’t you think when I look in the mirror I don’t want to do the same to them as they did to me?’

  ‘Them, you said them.’ Ray-Ray turned away but Freddie grabbed him. ‘You know who it is, don’t you? Look at me son.’

  ‘Leave it Dad, just fucking leave it.’

  ‘Tell me. Tell me who it is. Why won’t you tell me? Did they threaten you? Is that it? Did they say they’d do something to me? Are you trying to protect me? Whoever it is, I ain’t scared of no one.’

  ‘Will you listen to yourself? Why does it have to be about you? Maybe it’s about me, maybe it’s about somebody else.’

  ‘Tell me then. Please tell me.’

  Freddie’s eyes filled up with the tears Ray-Ray couldn’t shed. Ray-Ray went towards his father, putting his arms round his dad. ‘You’ve got to let it go Dad. For me, let it go.’

  Freddie choked back the tears. ‘I don’t know how to son. It eats me up and I know your mother blames me.’

  ‘It ain’t your fault Dad.’

  ‘Maybe I could’ve protected you. If I hadn’t sent you up to Bradford; if I hadn’t done the deal with the Keenan brothers from South London, or even the deal I did with the Turks.’

  ‘Stop, Dad, stop. I want you to listen to me, you’re not to blame.’

  ‘How do you know? How do you know it wasn’t someone wanting to hurt me by hurting you? I just can’t live with myself son, it’s doing me nut in.’

  ‘I promise you it’s not your fault – because I know exactly whose it is.’

  An hour later, Freddie sat in his front room with Johno. What Ray-Ray had said was still playing on his mind; in truth it was gnawing at him, but for the time being he wanted to try to focus on other things. Things which he was sure would make Ray-Ray feel better.

  ‘I want to give him his confidence back. I reckon he needs some fun.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ray-Ray. I want you to organise a party. Booze and birds. White, black, S&M, threesomes, twins. The whole lot. I want to give him a party he’ll never forget.’

  35

  His elation made his cappuccino taste even sweeter, though it could also have been the excessive amount of chocolate he’d got the waitress to sprinkle on top of it.

  Arnie stood on the doorstep of the large white London house and rang the bell. He looked round and smiled. He had come to London especially to be with her. Bradford was nothing without her. He was so close he could almost smell her. The door opened and a woman answered. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m here to see Izzy.’

  ‘You’ve got the wrong house mate. There’s no Izzy here.’

  Arnie frowned as Linda gave the once over to the incredibly handsome man standing on the doorstep.

  ‘I’m certain this is the one.’

&nbs
p; ‘Afraid not, never heard of her. Now if you don’t mind, I’m busy.’ The door slammed shut, leaving Arnie perplexed. He was sure this was the right house. Perhaps the woman was wrong; she hadn’t been very helpful, in fact she’d been verging on rude.

  Another frown appeared on Arnie’s face as another thought came into his head. Perhaps the woman had been lying and Izzy was in there after all but just didn’t want to see him after he’d let her down? Contemplating this, Arnold slowly walked away, putting his hand in his pocket and feeling the sharpness of the jagged-edged knife.

  Eddie Davidson pushed his body against the wall as he was about to turn the corner. It couldn’t be, could it? A minute later he craned his neck round to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. The sunglasses he had to wear indoors or outdoors to stop him being recognised weren’t helping, but he was certain. What the hell was Tasha’s ex-boyfriend doing not only in London but outside her house? More importantly, what the hell was he going to do about it?

  Eddie felt like a muppet. Though it wasn’t a new feeling. He’d felt like that ever since he’d been on the run and had to walk around in shades and a hat looking like something from a bad seventies’ detective movie. He’d dyed his hair but it still looked like him, only with a different colour barnet, so he had no option but to wear a stupid disguise. And standing outside the block of flats – where he’d followed Tasha’s ex to, trying to look discreet – was turning out to be harder than he thought. He had no idea the man had moved down to London, but then why would he? It wasn’t as if Tasha would tell him. This was her dirty little secret.

  The concierge had come out twice already and now this third time he was actually speaking to him. ‘Can I help you sir, you look a bit lost.’

  ‘I ain’t lost; I’m waiting for someone. I couldn’t come in and wait could I?’