Get Even

  George was groaning in pain, and now the noise was beginning to get on Ray’s tits. The sooner he was out of here the better.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

  Jack was with Micky, assuring him that the job he had requested had been done. Micky Biggs was over the fucking moon, as he kept saying again and again. He put the fifty thousand pounds in cash on the table in a small holdall, and he knew that Jack Johnson trusted him too much to count it while he was there.

  ‘He did everything I asked?’

  Jack nodded imperceptibly. He didn’t like the way Micky was taking such a pleasure in George Thomas’s downfall. Jack Johnson could be funny like that.

  ‘He was blinded in his left eye, and his right ankle was hobbled, per your instructions. My source tells me they are leaving him on the steps of the Old London, as you also requested.’

  Micky was smiling from ear to ear now. He had his business back, and he had meted out a punishment that could in no way come back and bite him on his tiny but well-shaped arse. As Micky sipped his drink he had an almost beatific smile on his face.

  He liked the idea of faceless retribution; it appealed to his sense of honour, and Micky, as mad as he could be, was an honourable man. He had treated George Thomas with the utmost respect and that cunt had walked all over him. People needed a lesson in social graces every now and then, and this would send out the word that George had crossed a line and that line had been his downfall. It wouldn’t take a blind dog long to sniff out that Micky was probably in on it, but as long as no one could prove it, he was basically home and dry.

  This was definitely money well spent. It had solved the age-old problem of ‘me or them’ – and that was what the world they lived in could often be about. He felt good – his only regret being that he had had to forfeit the bragging rights.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

  Ray slipped into his house at just after midnight. He had decided that coming home earlier than Sharon had expected would please her. She was still up watching Beaches with her mother. He liked Bette Midler but there were only so many times he could sit through that shit. He popped his head around the front-room door, and when he saw the genuine relief on his Sharon’s face he felt almost as if he could cry with happiness. He could be a very emotional man, and sometimes he felt that the great love he bore for this woman and her boys was a weakness. He accepted that it was his nature to be sentimental – he was the same with his old mum; watching her sometimes brought tears close to the surface. She had looked out for him his whole life, and she was a decent woman and an exemplary mother.

  ‘I managed to get away, darling.’

  She was straight into his arms and Ivy looked on happily. This was a real love job and she was so pleased for her girl. She said her goodnights and left them alone.

  Sharon was thrilled to have him back a day early and she knew then that he had come home just to be with her – just to stop her worrying – and she felt bad about her thoughts. Ray loved her and he loved her boys. She was blessed with this man, and she would put her fears out of her mind in the future.

  Ray was happy to see the relief and pleasure on Sharon’s face. He knew that he had done the right thing and, as he held her to him lovingly, he wondered absently how George Thomas was getting on at the hospital. Then he put the matter completely out of his head. The one thing a man should never do was take his work home with him.

  While Sharon made him a late-night snack, he checked on the boys. They were both asleep; one good thing about that school was that they concentrated on sports and, for boys like these, that was important. He remembered that they had another boxing night soon, and he was determined to take them with him. They always enjoyed meeting some of the older boxers. It was a nice treat for them; Lenny was a good fighter, but young Liam was a natural. If he chose to, he could go far in that world. He had the temperament needed for a professional fighter and he could parry and dance with the best of them. Most of his opponents had been hard pushed to even land a punch, let alone dodge the boy’s right hand. Ray was proud of them both; they were turning into nice young lads. Very polite to their mother and helpful to him when he asked. They were asking cheeky questions about the businesses as well. He knew that Sharon was not too pleased about that, but those two would go their own roads.

  Ray went around and locked up the house. He loved this place; it was everything he had ever wanted and more. Best of all, he knew that Sharon was happy and content here. Once the baby arrived they would be complete as a family. He hoped for a boy, but a daughter would be almost as good, and his mother, he knew, secretly wanted a granddaughter. She had stepped in as nan to the boys and they adored her just as much as he did.

  As Ray settled back into his life he was well pleased with how much he’d achieved and how much he had to be grateful for. He knew that there were a lot of men who would kill for what he had. He also knew that he would kill anyone who tried to take it all away from him.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine

  George Thomas was in the operating theatre for five hours. He had lost an eye, and his ankle had to be reconstructed using metal plates and pins. His handsome face was ruined for ever, and he would never be the same man again. When he eventually awoke in intensive care, he gradually pieced together a timeline.

  For the next two months in the hospital, only one thing kept him going and that was how he would find out who had harmed him and, more to the point, who had ordered it. He had his suspicions, and every time Micky Biggs visited him, all solicitude and compassion, he was more and more convinced that he had found the culprit.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty

  Lesley Scott was listening to her husband’s laboured breathing and she knew that he was not long for this world. She looked at the man she had married all those years before and felt her futile tears as they finally ran down her wrinkled face. She had aged considerably since her husband’s attack, but that didn’t bother her too much. It was seeing Big Lenny brought so low that had really affected her.

  As he lay there breathing his last, having already received extreme unction from his priest, she remembered the huge, handsome man she had married. She had looked beautiful that day and she had felt hope for her future. Some of those hopes and dreams had come to fruition. When she had given birth to Lenny, her husband had been like a dog with six lampposts. She could see him now in her mind’s eye, holding his little son in those enormous hands and laughing with delight. She thought of her son on his first day of school, all scrubbed and smart with his satchel and his packed lunch. He had been such a handsome boy, and tall for his age; he had towered over all the other kids in his class.

  Everything had been perfect, until Lenny had brought that whore among them.

  Not content with just having the son, after he had been brutally murdered she had then set her cap at his father. Lesley shook her head at the very thought of it. It was a disgrace!

  That Sharon could walk around like she did, while decent people were vilified and ostracised, was beyond her comprehension. Why couldn’t people see her for what she was? See through her veneer of goodness to the putrid filth that lay beneath those sparkling blue eyes.

  Big Lenny Scott’s breathing was getting shallower now and she knew the time was nearly upon them. He had been left less than a man, and he had never got over it.

  The police had not even really given a flying fuck as to why or how it had happened to her husband – but why would she expect any more? That witch had everyone around her under her spell and she was protected on all sides. She was living a charmed life now in her mansion in Essex with its electric gates and swimming pool. Where was the justice in that?

  At least she had sent the boys to a good Catholic school, run by Jesuits; that meant they had a chance of getting away from her. That had been the hardest thing to accept: being separated from her son’s children, her blood relatives. Not to be able to see them or talk to them had been a form of torture i
n itself, especially for her husband. He had adored those lads as much as she had.

  She realised that Big Lenny had finally gone to his great reward and, drying her tears, she set about putting a rosary into his hands. She wiped his face with a damp flannel and tried to brush down his unruly hair. At least he would have the comfort of being with his son, and she would bide her time until it was her turn to go to them. She had nothing now, no one to call her own. The knowledge frightened her. How would she live without human contact? It had been hard enough when Big Lenny had been by her side, but he had become like a child to her. Looking after him had brought a focus to her days. Now it would be just her and her alone.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the priest, Father Gordon, smiling down at her. God was good. No matter what happened she would always have the church.

  ‘Come away now, Lesley, and we will get you a cup of tea.’

  The nurses were grateful to him for taking her away so they could deal with her husband’s body. Standing up, Lesley kissed her husband’s forehead and meekly followed the priest to the hospital canteen. It occurred to her that the funeral was yet to come, and that would show her just how alone she really was.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty-One

  ‘I am pushing, for fuck’s sake!’

  Ray Donovan was deeply regretting being present at the birth. Sharon was irritable in the extreme and he felt that he was getting in the nurse’s way. But he plastered a smile on his face and tried to look as if he was enjoying the experience. He had no idea how brutal and bloody giving birth was. Real life was nothing like it was on the TV where the women had full make-up on and smiled serenely. He had never heard language like this coming out of Sharon’s mouth before. She was sweating like a pig and he was well aware that he was getting on her nerves, but what could he do? She had refused the pethidine and was on gas and air; and every time she was about to scream another obscenity he was covering her mouth up with the breathing apparatus – and that was making her even angrier. If he was honest, he could do with the fucking pethidine himself!

  The midwife was a nice lady, a big Jamaican woman who stood no nonsense from either of the nurses or her charge. ‘Come on now, Sharon. A few more pushes and your baby will be here.’

  Sharon was glowering at her but the midwife was not taking a blind bit of notice. He felt Sharon tensing up and knew another big contraction was on its way. She was squeezing his hand as she bore down, sounding like a dog in pain as she tried to squeeze this new life out of her body.

  ‘You’re crowning, girl! I can see the head coming.’

  Sharon was panting once more and getting ready for another big push. When the child’s head emerged, Ray Donovan understood why women gave birth and not men. No man would do this more than once. Once she heard the baby cry, Sharon laughed with delight and demanded to know if it was all right. It was as if all the hours of labour had been nothing.

  The cord was cut and tied and the child was wrapped in a blanket. It was covered in vernix and blood and he had never seen anything so incredible before in his life. He had a daughter – a beautiful, red, angry-looking, screaming daughter – and, as she was placed in his arms, he felt a rush of love so intense he thought he would actually pass out. Never before had he felt such emotion. He showed her to Sharon, who was laughing and crying at the same time.

  ‘Oh, Ray, she’s beautiful! Give her to me.’

  He watched as his Sharon gazed at their child and didn’t even murmur as they put in a few stitches. The whole experience had been a complete awakening for Ray Donovan. He looked at Sharon as she cradled their child, and he felt he could never love her more than he did at this moment.

  ‘Kathleen. Kathleen Donovan. What do you think, Ray?’

  He smiled his agreement. She had a head of black hair like his, and startling blue eyes like her mother.

  ‘Kathleen it is, darling.’

  The afterbirth had been one step too far for him – especially when it was mentioned that in some cultures it was actually eaten. Thank fuck Sharon wasn’t peckish; he could not have coped with that. It was a messy business this giving birth, but it was also a miracle. He would go to Mass with his mum and Ivy later and give thanks for this safe delivery. They were keeping her in for twenty-four hours, so they would be home with him tomorrow and he could look after them both properly. He was impressed with Sharon, and so pleased that her travail was over. He knew that one day they would look back on this and laugh at her antics.

  When he finally took his leave of his daughter he knew that life had changed irrevocably. This was the day he had officially become a father. It was a good feeling.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Two

  Jack Johnson was listening with half an ear as Ray described the birth. Reggie was all ears, apparently genuinely interested in the blood and gore; Jack wasn’t that enamoured with women’s shit, personally, but he laughed out loud as he heard Ray saying seriously, ‘Honestly, guys, if someone on the street put you through that much pain and suffering, you would want them to get ten years!’

  ‘Women’s work, Ray. My old mum used to say, if men had the first child and women the second, there would never be a third!’

  Ray grimaced as he said in disgust, ‘Wouldn’t be a fucking first! I don’t know how they do it!’

  Reggie grinned. ‘I delivered my own little brother. I was fascinated by it.’

  Jack and Ray exchanged worried glances and Jack broke the mood by saying loudly, ‘So, are we agreed then? I will put in an offer for the Carlton brothers’ loans and bets? They ain’t coming home for a fucking long time – their probation officer ain’t even been born yet! Poor fuckers. Definitely a grass there, I reckon. But, either way, it adds to our holdings.’

  Ray laughed with delight. ‘I don’t see a problem myself. Do you, Reg?’

  Reggie shook his head slowly, but he didn’t look too convinced.

  Jack noticed and said seriously, ‘You have any reservations, Reg, then you should share them with us.’

  Reggie sighed deeply. ‘Honestly? The Carltons have a big family network – cousins, et cetera, the whole fucking shebang. I think they will want to leave it in the hands of the family. I would, wouldn’t you? Both of them have families that still need to be taken care of. If they get a huge lump, they will want ongoing businesses, not a one-off sum. The court costs at the Bailey will be the national debt alone. By the time they have bumped a judge for a guaranteed sentence they will be practically boracic. That, Jack, is my worry. I don’t think it will be quite as cut and dry as you seem to think.’

  Ray could see the logic of what Reggie was saying but he also knew that Jack didn’t like the Carlton brothers in the least. He saw them as boors and bullies, which they were. Ray was well aware, though, that Jack had set his heart on taking over from them.

  ‘Fuck them and their extended family.’ Jack’s voice was hard now. He had never liked to be contradicted even though he asked for honesty from his entire workforce, no matter how high or how low.

  Ray looked askance at Reggie and then waited for Jack to speak again. Ray could see what Reggie was saying and he thought he had made a very valid point.

  ‘I want those fucking businesses. And the sooner you pair realise that, the better. This is not about asking, it is about demanding. Those pricks are gone for the duration, no matter how much they weigh out for a reduced sentence. The Crime Squad wants them because they were stupid enough to take out a Filth. Even a bent Filth is still one of the blue line, and they were cunts if they didn’t remember that. As for the family members, if you put all their IQs together they would be hard pushed to write their own names and addresses! Fuck them.’

  Reggie and Ray shrugged nonchalantly. Jack Johnson had spoken and he was the main man.

  ‘We’d better get planning then, Jack.’

  Jack smiled at Reggie; this was what he wanted to hear. Ray agreed that Reggie had more than a point and that Jack Johnson, old war horse
that he was, should have given what he said more consideration. He might not like the Carlton brothers but they were still a force in South London, and they had their creds. But all they could do was go along with what Jack wanted – that, unfortunately, was the way of their world.

  Reggie tried one last time. ‘Well, we can but try.’

  This was not what Jack wanted to hear, but he overlooked it because, deep down, he too knew that there was an element of truth in what Reggie had said.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three

  Kathleen Donovan was a good child and she was an outstandingly beautiful baby. It had surprised and pleased Sharon that even her older brothers were enamoured of her – especially young Lenny. He would hold her for hours and just gaze down at her in abject amazement. He would ask questions about babies, and be genuinely interested in Sharon’s answers.

  Sharon knew that his daughter’s effect on the boys pleased Ray no end. He made even more of a fuss of them than usual to compensate for the new arrival. All her worries were gone and she was determined just to enjoy her new daughter, who she was absolutely thrilled with.

  Ray, her darling Ray, was even more besotted than she was. He was fascinated with the different aspects of child rearing and he was making a point of getting home as soon as possible so he would not lose any time with this new daughter of his. The fact that his mother was as mad on the child as he was seemed to be the icing on the cake. He worshipped his mother and Sharon had to admit she was easy to be around. Unlike Lenny’s mother, who had pushed her way in, Annie was quite happy to just be there and do whatever was required.