Get Even
As Sharon watched Ray and her sons setting up the game she felt a glimmer of hope. She had been so lucky when she had found Ray Donovan and she knew that his gentle firmness was just what her sons needed. His love for her was all-encompassing and she honestly felt cherished by him. Finally Sharon could see some kind of future. Christ Himself knew, she’d had enough to deal with in her young life. Surely it was time that she got some good luck? She had earned it one way or another.
She poured a shot of brandy into her hot chocolate and brought it through to the lounge where the boys were arguing over who was having the dog while Ray watched them with a big smile on his handsome face.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Three
Lesley Scott looked down at her husband. He was in hospital and under sedation. He had been badly attacked by assailants unknown. His genitalia had been practically burned away and his fingernails had been removed with pliers, as had some of his teeth. Lesley knew that the police were not going to be investigating this too closely; that bastard Jack Johnson would make sure of that. She was too shrewd to make a scene or even hint that she knew who was responsible. But God was slow and He was sure, and she would pray every day to see that whore got what was coming to her. She would live to see Sharon Scott, her dead son’s widow and the mother of his children, brought as low as she had taken her. It was all that was keeping her upright – that and the hatred she harboured in her heart. The only thing she had left her with was this excuse for a man.
Dry-eyed she left the hospital and made her way to the nearest church where she knelt down before the altar and started her prayers for vengeance.
Book Four
Great is truth and it prevails.
3 Esdras 4.41
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four
1995
‘Come on, boys. We ain’t got all day, you know.’
Sharon looked around her home and felt a swell of pride. The move was the best thing she could have done and she was so pleased that Ray had insisted on it. Getting away from everything had completely changed her outlook on life and she loved the Essex countryside. But, best of all for her, was that the boys loved it here; they were thriving and that was what she really cared about – that and Ray and the child she was carrying inside her.
She was thrilled to be pregnant again and she felt that this new addition would complete their family. Ray was so good; he did not even care if it was a boy or girl. He saw young Lenny and Liam as his own sons and for that she would be forever grateful to him. They called him Dad now and, over the years, Lenny had gradually ceased to exist for them. She knew it was wrong but she was also glad of it. The photos in this house were all of the four of them, smiling and laughing and looking like any other family. She was blessed, she knew that much, and she was grateful for this wonderful life that she had. Sometimes it seemed too good to be true and that was when the old fears would plague her, but those feelings were getting less and less frequent. Ray wasn’t living a secret life; she trusted that deep down in her heart. He was the opposite of Lenny Scott. His lovemaking was different; everything about him was different. And that was what she loved about him.
Ray had expanded the businesses over the years and they now had quite a high standard of living. She loved that they had their own pool and enough land to give them privacy. The boys went to a Catholic school that wasn’t cheap, but it seemed to keep them out of trouble. As Ray said, you can’t fuck with the Jesuits, they were hard bastards. And they were that, all right. Ray prided himself on being a good Catholic and he had insisted that the boys had a proper education. It was paying off though – the boys were worn out with all the sport and they genuinely seemed to like their teachers – even if they did wear what Liam referred to as ‘dresses’. They were changing and that pleased her. They had a future now. Sharon had never been happier and it showed.
As Ray left with the boys to drop them off at school, she made herself a pot of tea and sat in her large, sunny kitchen contentedly. Life just didn’t get better than this. Not that she never argued with Ray. She could be stubborn, but they were the normal arguments and petty squabbles of family life: where to go on holiday, what they would do at Christmas. Ray always wanted them to go to his mother’s but now it was better for her to come to them. Old Annie Donovan loved coming to her son’s beautiful home. Sharon adored her. She was a wonderful woman. When Sharon had asked her where Ray got his dark good looks she had laughed delightedly and said, with searing honesty, ‘His father was a Turk. He left one day and he took my heart and most of my electrical equipment with him!’
Sharon had laughed with her then, but she could see the woman had genuinely loved the man, whoever he was. Annie got on well with her, and they were a happy family. Sharon’s mother thought the sun shone out of Ray’s backside and her dad thought the world of him too. So, despite all she had had to contend with, life had taken a turn for the better and she thanked God every day for that.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Five
Reggie Dornan suspected that there was some business going on between Jack and Ray Donovan. It was obviously just between the two of them, but he wasn’t too worried about it. He too had his private deals with Jack Johnson – that was how their world worked. What he felt, though, was that whatever they were doing together, it was not something he wanted a part of. There was a feeling there of an almost unholy alliance. He knew it sounded melodramatic, even to his own ears, but he could not shake the thoughts away. Ray disappeared for days at a time, and no one knew where he was or what he was doing. Again, nothing so strange about that in their world. But Reggie’s gut instinct was telling him to be careful and not to pry.
He didn’t see that much of Sharon these days and that suited him, though she was civil to him and grateful for his help when she had needed it. His relationship with Lenny would always be there between them. He respected that she had kept it to herself though he guessed that was more for her and the boys’ sakes than his. Either way he was glad it wasn’t out there. Even in these enlightened times it was still seen as a weakness. Lenny Scott’s memory would have been destroyed and everything he had ever done would be suspect. It was wrong, but it was the world they inhabited, simple as that.
Reggie got out of his car and pressed the buzzer at the electric gates and then he waited in his car patiently for Sharon to open them. He parked on the large driveway and walked casually towards the front of the house. It was an impressive place, and he was glad for them.
Sharon had blossomed since she had been with Ray and the boys were not such a handful these days. Lenny had encouraged them to be boisterous, even while he punished them for it. Ray was a more moderate parent. The boys loved him, there was no doubting that, and Ray thought the world of them too. He took them to football and karate – whatever they wanted to do, he was as up for it as they were. Now he had his own child on the way and Reggie supposed that would complete the family.
Reggie kissed Sharon lightly on her cheek and followed her through to the big, bright kitchen that was like something out of Homes & Gardens.
She was pouring him a cup of tea as he said teasingly, ‘You’re getting bigger, girl!’
She laughed. ‘Fucker won’t keep still. Keeps nightclub hours this one. Moving all night and sleeping all day!’
Reggie took the mug of tea and laughed. ‘If it’s a boy, we’ll start him as a doorman!’
Sharon didn’t laugh quite so heartily at that quip. Sharon didn’t want her sons in the Life, thank you very much. She had great hopes for her boys and being criminals wasn’t one of them.
Reggie, realising he had put his foot in it, changed the subject quickly. ‘So, Jack tells me you need someone to sort out stuff for a cinema room, I believe?’
He could not help feeling the irony of Sharon’s annoyance at her sons’ implied criminality and the fact she expected him to provide stolen goods! But he didn’t say a word.
She nodded happily. ‘Come through, I’ll show you what’s
needed. Jack said someone had a load of home-entertainment systems going cheap. It will be wonderful for the boys, obviously.’
He followed her through the house and she opened the door to a large room and beckoned him inside.
‘I’m getting black-out curtains made for the windows. But I don’t know what’s on offer screen-wise. You should decide really; I’m useless with anything electrical.’
He smiled at her as he surveyed the room.
‘So, how was Manchester?’
It was said completely without guile and Reggie looked at her and frowned. ‘What you on about?’ As soon as he spoke he realised he had put Ray right in it, but that was not his fault. If Ray needed a fucking alibi, he should have told him about it.
He saw Sharon’s head snap back quickly and then she composed herself saying, ‘Oh, I probably got the wrong end of the stick. Blame the pregnancy hormones!’
He laughed with her but the damage was done. The sun had gone out of her day and they both knew it. Reggie sighed heavily. He hated personal intrigue – even his sexual encounters were practised well away from his home turf. He would let Ray know he had dropped him in it, but the question had been so unexpected he had no chance. Let him sort his own fucking messes out.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six
Ray was aware that he had dropped what was known in his world as ‘a serious bollock’. It had been so last minute and he had forgotten to tell Reggie he needed an alibi for a few days. Sharon wasn’t in and out of the offices any more; they had people to take care of everything and she was more or less a homebody now. Ray could kick himself, seriously kick himself. He knew how dodgy it would look to Sharon, especially as she was heavily pregnant and on a short fuse. And now, on top of everything else, he had to go away again for a few days. He was leaving at five in the morning and he imagined that news was going to go down like a lead balloon. He sighed heavily. Sharon was a good girl, and he loved her, but she could be suspicious at times. His mum insisted it was a woman’s thing but he wasn’t so fucking sure. Sharon had a radar in her head, and nothing or no one could turn it off.
As he drove through the gates to his home he was amazed that he actually felt nervous. Sharon was the only person in the world who could make him feel like this – that she kept him on his toes was part of the reason he loved her. He hated lying to her but the truth, if she ever found out, would be so much worse. Not that he could tell her that, of course.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven
Jack Johnson was with a small, sharp-toothed man called Micky Biggs. An unfortunate name, considering his reduced size. At four foot eleven, he was just off being a dwarf. But anyone with half a brain would take one look at the short man and know instinctively that he was not to be fucked with.
Jack remembered seeing him attack a huge fellow once in a North London pub. The bigger man had made one too many quips about his diminutive height. It had been a sight to see, that was for sure. Micky didn’t so much fight, as bite. He was like a terrier and, like a terrier, he went for throat, ears and face. It was the sheer ferocity of his attacks that laid waste to his detractors. Now he was a small but respected member of the community, not that anyone ever mentioned the former. Not within Micky’s hearing anyway.
‘You look well, Jack. Time’s marching on, boy.’
Jack accepted the compliment easily. He knew this was just the preliminaries before Micky got round to what he really wanted to talk about. It was laughable, but it was social etiquette to get the niceties out of the way, pay each other due respect, before discussing who was going to get maimed or murdered. Jack sipped at his whisky and savoured the burn that accompanied it. Micky was of the strange breed of criminals who did not drink alcohol at all. He claimed he didn’t like the taste and that it made him aggressive. As if he needed any help with that!
‘How’s the wife, Micky?’
Micky sighed happily. He loved his Lynda with a fierceness that frightened everyone but her. She was a tall blonde with the body of a streetwalker. But they worked, somehow, and had one of the happiest marriages in their world.
‘She is fucking over the moon with the new baby. Fabulous mother and, now she’s breastfeeding, her knockers are fucking enormous!’
Jack laughed with him. ‘How many is that now, then?’
Micky’s face was tinged with pink as he said, ‘Five – all boys too! She wants a girl badly, so I suppose this won’t be the last one till she gets her way.’
Jack looked at this strange man with respect. He was a grafter, an earner, and he gave respect where it was due. As long as no one mentioned his height he was a good friend to have. But, like most men in the Life, he could be a bitter and ferocious enemy. Jack was interested to know who had been fool enough to fuck him off or try to have him over. But they would get there in the end. They always did. It was pleasant to chat with Micky Biggs; he was a lovely bloke – a gentleman.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight
Sharon was eyeing Ray with suspicion in her blue eyes. He was smiling at her disarmingly and waiting for the onslaught that he was sure would be coming in the near future.
Pregnancy suited her; she had really bloomed, as the old saying went. Her skin looked almost luminous and her thick blond hair seemed to glow like gold. God, he loved this woman.
‘Why were you and Reggie in Manchester again?’
He wanted to smile at her words; she really had no guile.
He shrugged. ‘Reggie didn’t go. I thought he was supposed to but I had got it wrong. Why?’
She screwed her eyes into slits and sighed lightly, trying all the time to calm herself down. If she lost her temper she would blow it, she knew she would.
She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘What exactly were you doing in Manchester? That’s supposing you were in Manchester, of course.’
He looked her directly in the eyes and he said seriously, ‘I can’t tell you that, Sharon.’
She was taken aback by his words and the way he had delivered them.
‘I beg your pardon?’
She was at the beginning of outrage and they both knew it. He went to her and held her gently by the shoulders and, looking at her, he said in complete honesty, ‘I really can’t tell you anything. If I did tell you I can guarantee you would regret ever asking me about it. That is as much as I can tell you, Sharon. You have to trust me on this.’
She looked up into his beautiful, dark eyes and believed that he was being honest with her. She could not help but be suspicious of his absences. What woman wouldn’t be? She had two sons and was heavily pregnant to boot. She had a man she thought she could trust with her life and now the doubt was creeping in. After Lenny she couldn’t go through that heartbreak again.
He sensed her uncertainty and, holding her to him gently, he said sincerely, ‘I wish I could tell you about these trips, I really do. But there are some things in our world where you are better left in ignorance. Believe me, I’m not trying to play you, Sharon.’
A voice inside her was telling her that she should accept what he said at face value. But another voice in the back of her mind was asking what was so terrible he could not tell her about it? What skulduggery was he involved in that required so much secrecy? One worry just seemed to replace another.
He kissed her tenderly and caressed her swollen belly. ‘Like I would want anyone else. Haven’t I got everything I need right here?’
She allowed him to hold her and pet her but worry still lingered in the back of her mind.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine
Lesley Scott looked in the Barking and Dagenham Post and saw her two grandsons’ photograph from the boxing. They had been for the ABAs. She drank in the picture of them, and prayed once more that her daughter-in-law would pay the price for destroying her family.
The boys were her Lenny’s doubles, especially young Lenny. It was like looking at her beloved son at the same age. When she thought of the trauma and heartbreak that bitch had bro
ught into their lives she felt almost capable of murder. She heard her husband calling to her and she quickly poured him a glass of orange juice and went through to her front room.
Big Lenny was a shadow of his former self, and it showed. The weight had dropped off him, and he looked almost skeletal, sitting on the sofa watching his endless video collection. He was like a child now – all the life was gone from him and he was pitifully grateful to her for the smallest kindness. Gone was the vibrant man she had married all those years ago. In his place was this complete wreck who now had a catheter in to drain his urine, who had been left unable to walk without a stick and who had difficulty stringing a sentence together. Another victim of that Sharon Conway. Lesley could not bear to call her Scott; that name was far too good for the likes of her!
That girl had wreaked havoc on her and her family and it was hard to live through each day knowing that. They were pariahs now in their community, and even bingo was a closed door as no one would sit with her any more.
She felt the sting of tears, and forced them from her rheumy eyes. She too had aged dramatically since her husband’s accident – she always thought of it in those terms. The shame of his actions ate at her like a cancer. She knew that the rumours about her Lenny attacking his dead son’s wife had been rife at the time. Ray Donovan was looked on as a hero now, taking on those two boys and being a father to them. Well, he was not their father and never could be! They were her flesh and blood.
She glanced at the clock and was pleased to see it was nearly time for seven o’clock Mass – she liked the evening services and the early morning ones. They weren’t as busy and she didn’t run into people who were once classed as friends. The loneliness of her life had made her even more bitter towards Sharon; and she had heard a wedding was likely. That had upset her more than she had thought possible.