BETRAYED Read online

  ‘Not so fast. I reckon I deserve something else, don’t you? One little word beginning with S and then, Ted my son, we can put all this behind us.’

  Teddy’s head shot up and he saw that the twinkle had returned to Del’s brown eyes. This couldn’t be happening to him – and to make it worse, his whole buzz had left him.

  ‘Well?’

  Teddy glanced round nervously. Over in the corner of the bar, he saw Alfie had been joined by two other well-known faces of London, Vaughn Sadler and Freddie Thompson, all of whom were staring at him as if they were watching the Christmas episode of EastEnders.

  Teddy turned back, taking in Del’s face, which was now only a few inches away from him. ‘I ain’t got all day, Ted.’

  It was almost choking him. Literally sticking in his throat and making it difficult for him to breathe.

  ‘S … s … so … sorry.’

  Del Williams threw his head back and let out a huge roar – showing off his expensive set of veneers – as he slapped a tense Teddy on the back.

  Teddy Davies watched with narrowed eyes as Del laughed. He watched Alfie, Vaughn and he watched Freddie. All laughing. All having a giggle at his expense. The fury rose inside him. He had to do something. Del had begun to cause him nothing but aggro and he certainly knew he couldn’t trust him.

  Somehow, he needed to rein Del in, but quite how, Teddy Davies hadn’t figured out yet. But he would, and when he did, it’d be him throwing his head back and laughing as he wiped the stupid arrogant smile off Del Williams’ face.

  Standing in the afternoon sun on Drury Lane an hour later, Del was feeling pleased with himself. Very pleased. He was looking forward to the trip to Marbella with Bunny. In fact, he felt a bit like a school kid. They’d never been away together before, not that he hadn’t tried to drag her away from Soho on many other occasions. He’d actually begged her, but it’d always been a firm no and then a dozen excuses. But this time he’d finally got her to budge. She’d promised and this time he wouldn’t take no or an excuse for an answer.

  Standing waiting in the London heat, Del’s mind crossed from Bunny to the Russians. A lot of people he knew didn’t want to deal with the Russian mafia, but they were the only people he wanted to deal with. They got things done and what they said was going to happen did happen. Everything was beginning to fall into place nicely. The deal he’d made with them to supply the coke for both the Costa and Soho had been a good call, though he could’ve gone for a better price. He didn’t like to think of that too much; what was done was done.

  These days he found himself being distracted, his mind wandering off elsewhere. Still, all in all it’d turned out well. Soon Soho and the Costa would be flooded with tasty coke instead of the shit that was flying about now. There were too many wannabe suppliers, too many pony outfits, which made it impossible to get the quality.

  For the past year or so he’d found plenty of yes men. All who talked the talk, promising to be able to supply him with the amount and grade of coke he needed, but all inevitably never coming through with the goods, or if they did, the supply of coke ran out after the second or third run, making him have to go back to square one and allowing other runners to step in. The result of this being rather than him getting the whole pie, he ended up only being able to get a slice of it, as well as having to slice out to the likes of Teddy Davies.

  All his other businesses were good. Money laundering, stolen goods and the different outlets he owned had made him a very rich man and a very powerful one. The one thing that had eluded him for years was the stronghold on the drugs trade – but now, thanks to the deal with the Russians, there’d be no more fuck-ups. The supply and the shipments would be constant, which meant he’d never have to deal with the other small-time suppliers and cockroaches who thought they were the big time.

  Pulling out his phone, Del remembered that he needed to make a call to his lawyer. He’d been trying to get through all day. Each time he called the office he left a message, but no one called back, which had begun to piss him off no end. He needed some papers drawn up before he went to Marbella, which was now cutting it finely.

  Just as he was about to leave another warning message, Del looked up. He smiled, waving as he caught sight of the person he was waiting for. The one other person who could compete with his affections as much as Bunny could, and only the second person he’d ever given his heart to. His daughter. Star Barker-Williams.

  ‘All right darlin’.’ Del winked at his daughter as she ran towards him, grinning.

  Seven-year-old Star Barker-Williams looked at her dad and winked back. He’d taught her to wink and now it was her favourite way of greeting everyone, though her headmaster hadn’t taken kindly to it this morning. He’d told her off and made her stay in at play-time. He was such a spoilsport. Even when she’d taken her pirate’s treasure to school he’d told her off. Instead of being interested in seeing it he’d put it in his drawer until home time. The thought of it made Star crinkle up her nose in disgust. Still, at least she’d managed to take her spyglass to school today without being caught. She’d been able to keep it a secret and one thing Star Barker-Williams delighted in more than anything was secrets.

  3

  ‘One more time, Daddy. Do it again. Please.’ The laughing request and exaggerated please came from eight-year-old Julie Cole as she and her brother, Zak, bounced up and down on their beds in manic delight as they watched their father, Gary, play air guitar to Robert Palmer’s ‘Bad Case of Loving You’.

  ‘No, babe. It’s getting late, sweetheart. You need to get some sleep.’

  Disappointed, Julie sat down hard on the bed, her arms firmly crossed in disgust at her father’s suggestion.

  ‘What about sweets? You promised we could have some before we went to bed.’

  ‘I ain’t going out again, babe, I’m tired. I’ll get you some sweets tomorrow. I promise.’

  ‘You promised today. You said we could have them today. Please.’

  Gary Cole couldn’t resist it. He was as powerless to the charms of his daughter as he had been with her mother.

  ‘Okay, okay. Bleedin’ hell, you’ve chewed me ear off enough. But I ain’t going. If you want them, you go. Here’s a fiver; make sure you bring back me change.’

  * * *

  Gary sat back on the sofa and opened his fourth can of lager. Apart from the kids, getting lagging was one of Gary’s few pleasures in life. It made him forget, and most of the time that’s all Gary wanted to do. Watching the freshly opened beer’s froth appear and bubble on top of the dinted can, Gary yawned. He lay back on the sofa not wanting to think anymore, instead drifting off to sleep.

  Julie Cole skipped along the alleyway which ran behind the sprawling grey estate off the Euston Road. Even for her young age she knew it was a dump. She’d often heard her Dad say so and she guessed, but didn’t know, if it was part of the reason her mum had left.

  Standing at the top of the litter-strewn concrete stairs leading down to the canal walk, Julie looked around. It was quicker to get to the sweet shop that way, but her dad had told her to stay on the main road. But then, her dad wasn’t here and when her dad wasn’t here it meant he couldn’t start shouting at her and give her a clip round the ear. It also meant she could do what she liked. The other good reason to go the short cut was being able to get home before Zak went to sleep. He liked sweets just as much as she did and she didn’t want him not having his treats tonight.

  With one more quick glance around and her mind made up, Julie Cole bounded down the stairs two at a time, jumping over the empty cans of beer and used syringes at the bottom.

  Standing at the edge of the canal bank, with the sun still beating down, Julie crinkled her nose at a soiled nappy floating on top of the water. She watched, fascinated, as a large water rat swam by, navigating its way through the rubbish and canal weeds.

  ‘Dirty, isn’t it?’

  Startled, Julie turned round and saw a man standing behind her. She held her br
eath, frightened at his appearance. He stood a few feet away, staring hard at her. In one hand he held a fishing rod, in the other a plastic bag, which looked to Julie as if it was moving of its own accord. His clothes were old and torn and even though it was a hot summer evening, he wore an oversized trench coat. His face looked funny too. Scary. And his teeth looked like they hadn’t been cleaned for a long time.

  Julie began to back away, nervously.

  ‘Do you want to see what’s in my bag?’ The man grinned as Julie shook her head, her eyes wildly focused on the dirty bag he held. It was definitely moving. Her dad had been right. She should never have come this way.

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  Another voice came from behind her. She turned round to see a tall well-dressed man coming out from the darkness of the canal tunnel. Julie let out an audible sigh of relief as he approached her.

  ‘Is this man bothering you, love?’

  Julie shrugged her shoulders. The well-dressed man turned to the man holding the moving bag and spoke in a firm authoritative voice. ‘Maybe you should be getting on your way.’

  Julie watched as the scruffy man, not bothering to say another word, hobbled off along the canal towards Kings Cross.

  ‘Are you all right? Did he give you a fright? Sometimes people aren’t as scary as they look but you should never trust anyone you don’t know.’

  Again Julie shrugged. ‘Yeah, me dad’s always saying that. He told me not to come this way.’

  ‘Where is your dad?’

  ‘At home with me brother. I’m going for sweets but I wanted to get back before Zak went to sleep, that’s why I came this way.’

  ‘Would you like me to walk with you? Make sure you’re all right.’

  Julie looked at the man. He was smart looking. Wearing a black suit. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Which shop are you going to?’

  ‘Patel’s on Eversholt Street ’cos they do the sweets my brother likes. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘Yes, I know it, but I know a better way to go. Come on, let me show you. Hold my hand because it’s dark under the tunnel. We don’t want you falling over and ruining that pretty dress you’re wearing, do we?’ The man smiled as Julie Cole took his hand.

  4

  It tasted like garbage. If Gary were to bet what garbage tasted like, he would’ve said it tasted like his mouth did at that very moment. Scraping his tongue with his teeth, Gary lit a cigarette, hoping it would somehow remove the foul taste.

  He looked round. The front room was strewn with cans and overflowing ashtrays. Gary couldn’t remember anything about the evening and he wasn’t going to bother to try. He could see the sunlight pushing through the curtains, but with his head pounding, causing his eyes to hurt, Gary had no intention of welcoming in the early morning.

  The sofa wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but the effort required to walk up the stairs was beyond Gary and his hangover definitely felt like it was getting progressively worse with each waking moment.

  ‘Fuck.’ Gary Cole sighed heavily as he heard the small cries of Zak coming from upstairs. Lighting another cigarette, Gary took two attempts to prise himself off the sofa, wishing his son would either be quiet or realise the beauty of sleeping-in late.

  Walking into the kid’s bedroom, the huge grin given to him by his son went some way to soothe Gary’s fatigue and pounding head. ‘How are you, boy?’ Bending down to hug him, Gary pulled back quickly.

  ‘Christ almighty. Smelly arse.’

  Picking up his son and trying not to let the smell of Zak’s nappy make him nauseous, Gary saw that Julie had already got up.

  ‘Now then mate, where’s your sister? Knowing Julie, she’s already in Daddy’s bedroom looking for extra pocket money.’ He smiled at Zak, kissing him on his nose before adding, ‘On that score son, she’s very much like your mum.’

  Opening the unpainted plywood door of his bedroom and expecting to see Julie rummaging through his things, Gary sighed. The last thing he felt like doing was playing hide and seek with his daughter.

  ‘Julie, come on out now, doll, Daddy has a headache and really doesn’t feel so well. Please babe.’

  Trying to keep his patience, Gary went back to his bedroom and checked in the wardrobes, each time opening the door and each time saying ‘boo’ to an empty closet, much to the amusement of a giggling Zak.

  Stomping down the stairs and thoroughly pissed off, Gary continued to call, hoping the game would soon be over.

  ‘Julie, please babe, stop now, Daddy gives up … Julie? For fuck’s sake. I give up, darlin’.’

  Where the hell was she? He’d had enough now. He knew she wasn’t in the front room, and the adjoining kitchenette was tiny; too tiny for a game of hide and seek. An old gas cooker stood against the side wall and the cupboards were high up out of reach on the right hand wall; impossible for any child to get to. So where?

  A slight feeling of panic started to rise in Gary. He tried to quickly push it away but his heart started to beat faster as he thought about the events of the previous night. It was still a blur. Yes, he remembered Julie had gone out to get sweets, but he couldn’t actually remember her returning. But she must have. The sweet shop was only ten minutes away, at most. He could’ve sworn he’d heard the front door shut. But then how could he? He’d been asleep. Pissed out of his mind.

  ‘Julie? … Julie?’ Running up the stairs two at a time, Gary went into the children’s bedroom again, depositing Zak back into his cot who immediately started to scream.

  Gary started to run, ignoring the pain in his head. He flung open all the doors, hearing himself breathing hard as he entered each room, feeling the sweat of cold anxiety run down his back as he looked under the beds, realising there was nowhere else for him to look for his daughter. In the background he could hear the hysterical cries of Zak compounding the terror in his own mind.

  ‘She’s gone. Open the fucking door, for fuck’s sake, just open the fucking door.’ The wild hammering on number fourteen was heard throughout the estate as one of Gary Cole’s next-door neighbours came to the door.

  Opening the door, the woman was astonished as she watched Gary fall to his knees, sobbing. She looked at him and something about the way he cried made her crouch down and hold him in her arms.

  ‘What is it, Gal?’ The pain that gripped his body made it nearly impossible for Gary Cole to speak, and when he did it was only a few words. ‘Julie’s gone. She never came back. She never came back.’

  5

  Julian Millwood felt like his face was about to explode. The throbbing ache not only encompassed his jaw but the whole of his body. He’d gnawed on the inside of his mouth, tasting his own blood. His lip felt like it’d swollen to twice its normal size. Goddamn tooth. He knew he should really go to the dentist but he hated them. To him, they were on a par with coppers.

  With the curtains closed, he lit up a cigarette, exposing the gloom of the room and trying to ignore the pain now making its way up into his ear.

  The thick grime in the bedsit was evident. Piles of old magazines and newspaper clippings were strewn across the floor and the tatty blue Dralon chair was full of papers dating as far back as three years ago.

  The kitchen surfaces were covered in stinking takeaway cartons and the sink was full of dishes with the food so solidified on them it probably wasn’t worth attempting to clean them. Julian groaned heavily. It was cleaner in the frigging nick, and that was saying something.

  His time in prison had been a nightmare. It’d been the first time he’d served a long stretch but he knew it could’ve been worse, far worse, and with time off for good behaviour he’d only had to serve half of what the bitter man-hating female judge had given him. A result.

  He’d asked his uncle to look after the place whilst he’d been inside, expecting when he came back out to at least see the stained sheets changed and the milk he’d poured on the cereal on the morning of his arrest to be thrown out. It hadn’t. Everything was just
the same, only with a more putrid smell.

  It was as if his uncle had been keeping the place as some sort of shrine for his return, although Julian knew it was only because his uncle was a fat lazy bastard and as long as there was a free roof over his head, the man didn’t care what condition the place was in.

  Not that he was much better; he’d lived here for the past ten years and in all that time he’d probably bothered to clean it once, when his girlfriend had visited him. He hadn’t dated her long, probably no longer than a month or so. He hadn’t actually liked her. It was what had come with her that he’d liked.

  But it’d all gone tits up when she’d come round for a surprise visit. She’d found some pictures and had quickly gone and rounded up her father and brothers, who’d given him the battering of his life.

  He supposed it’d been his own fault. He shouldn’t have left out things he didn’t want prying eyes to see. And he’d known she was a nosy cow after he’d found her going through his mobile phone for text messages from other women. When he’d caught her she’d looked mortified, blabbing an apology, but he’d immediately laughed, knowing she couldn’t have been further from the truth if she’d tried.

  Touching his swollen mouth, Julian looked around again. He detested the flat. The estate. The area. But like a moth round a flame he was drawn back time and time again. He’d once tried to move away, but he’d only lasted a month. He hadn’t known anyone and all he’d really done was swap one shithole of a place for another. At least this was an area he knew; he’d grown up here and he supposed it was what he was used to – and Julian Millwood was certainly a creature of habit.

  Trying to light up another cigarette, Julian cursed as his lighter, running out of gas, gave out only a small spark. Remembering he had another one in his pocket, Julian put his hand inside his jacket and smiled when, along with the lighter, he pulled out a pink pair of little girl’s knickers.