Ria watched as he walked away from them.
‘I mean it, Mum, I can’t do this any more.’
Ria looked at her child. She saw a beautiful girl, with a great bone structure, high cheekbones, and olive skin that looked like burnished copper. She wished Imelda could see how lovely she really was instead of constantly wishing she looked different. She had huge eyes that were framed with thick, dark lashes which, even as a baby, had brought comments from complete strangers. She had a good figure, she dressed well, she had long slim legs, and she was as lovely today as she had been as a sixteen year old. She still had the fresh-faced beauty that Ria had always seen as something really special. Imelda was what her father would call a good eyeful.
Grabbing her daughter by the arm, she pulled her through the crowd on the dance floor and into the ladies’ toilets, before saying seriously, ‘Listen, Mel, I love you dearly, but you need to stop all this jealousy lark. Liam’s girlfriend is gorgeous, and you can’t do anything about that, love. Everywhere you go, there will always be good-looking girls, younger girls, prettier girls. That doesn’t mean that he is going to go off with them. All men look – your father’s the world’s worst for it. But that’s all he does, and he loves me as much as I love him. I never felt the jealousy you feel. I see how it eats at you, and I’ve got to tell you, Mel, it’s not a pretty sight. It makes you look ugly and mean. You must learn to control it or, one day, if you’re not careful, you will drive him away. You’ll accuse him once too often and he will think to himself, fuck it, I’m always being accused of shagging around, so I might as well do it. Now, I am half pissed and I don’t want to argue with you, not today, on little Delroy’s First Holy Communion. So, promise me you will let this go.’
Imelda looked at her mother’s kind face, saw the love there, and the worry for her and, nodding sadly, she said, ‘OK. But he does take a flyer, Mum, I know he does.’
Ria pulled her daughter into her arms and, hugging her tightly, she said sadly, ‘So what, darling? As long as he don’t rub your face in it, so bloody what! You’re his wife, you have his child. You’re his first priority. Now, let’s get back to the party, shall we?’
Chapter Seventy
Peter and Daniel were both aware of the other. They stood at the bar, no more than ten feet apart, but it might as well have been ten miles.
Tommy Barker stood beside Daniel; now they had finally established some ground rules, they actually got on very well. Tommy was surprised at how much he did like Daniel Bailey; when Daniel was alone, and relaxed, he could be very good company. He knew he was a loose cannon – Tommy had realised early on that Daniel Bailey was not what might be termed the full shilling – but that was part of Daniel’s make up. These days, however, he was also a man who was genuinely interested in other people’s lives, who listened to their opinions, and asked relevant questions so he could fully understand what he was being told.
He and Daniel had struck up a friendship of sorts, and he believed that Daniel felt that he was good for his mother.
Now that he was gradually handing his money-laundering operation over to Daniel, he was seeing how shrewd he was where money was concerned. Daniel Bailey knew his maths all right; he could work out any percentage in his head, and he could tell you down to the last halfpenny what was owed where and by whom.
Tommy had underestimated Daniel Bailey’s intelligence, and he realised that many other people had made that same mistake. Peter had always been considered as the brains of the outfit; Daniel’s rep was just as the hard man. But Daniel was more than that. He was very good at dissecting how a scam worked and, once he had thought it through, nine times out of ten, he could come up with a way of improving on it. He had already proved that by increasing their earnings almost overnight. Tommy Barker’s respect for Daniel Bailey’s acumen was without question.
‘Look at them, Tommy, drunk as skunks, and twice as fucking annoying.’
Tommy smiled. Lena, Ria and Theresa were all singing along to the Irish ballads that were now being played. It was time for the lock-in and, for many of the people there, the night was only just beginning.
‘Your little Tania will be all right, Daniel. She won’t remember the half of it tomorrow.’ Tommy guessed what was bothering Daniel the most about today’s events.
Daniel shrugged. ‘I hope not. It’s funny, you know, Tommy, I realised something today. I realised, for the first time, that I don’t want this for her. I don’t want my daughter to grow up in the Life. I want her to have a chance. I want her to do something with herself.’
‘That’s good, Daniel. That’s natural, wanting the best for your kids.’
Daniel smiled. ‘I want a bit more for her than some fucking oik whose life is dependent on a fucking thieve, you know what I mean? I want her to live in the real world, with real people. I saw her fear today, and I saw myself as she must have seen me. A big, aggressive fucking gangster. What the fuck must my baby have thought? She is seven years old, Tommy! I must have looked like a monster. She was physically sick, you know? She was that scared. I had that fucking muppet Noel by the throat, and she saw all that. I have never seen her so frightened, and I never want to see her like that again. You know I’ve bought that great big drum? Well, Lena doesn’t really want to move, but she has a fucking surprise coming to her. We are going, and sooner rather than later. My Tania is going to have a good life, a comfortable life, and she will go to a good school and all. The best that money can buy.’ He swallowed down his beer quickly, then motioned to the barmaid for a refill. ‘But, as for that pair of fucking prats, Noel and Jamsie, they can fucking whistle for a crust in future. Who does a fucking robbery like that, first time out? They are a pair of fucking idiots. Not a fucking useful brain cell between the pair of them. Still ain’t out of the woods are they? Fuck knows what really went down today. Knowing that pair they left a fucking gas bill behind for the Filth – name, address and fucking phone numbers. Unbelievable, un-fucking-believable.’
Tommy Barker couldn’t help laughing. ‘Still, they got a good wedge, you’ve got to give them that, Daniel.’
‘I ain’t giving them fuck-all. That’s my money now, I think that should teach them a lesson in etiquette. Never go on the rob with strangers. I have told them all, time and time again – keep things in the family.’
Peter Bailey overheard his brother’s last words and nodded in silent agreement. He had drummed that into his lads’ heads since they were old enough to walk. It was the Bailey mantra. But once they were grown men, they would eventually go their own road. That was human nature.
Chapter Seventy-One
Lena was not comfortable, and she didn’t like that feeling. The house Daniel had bought them was lovely, but it was too big, and she didn’t like the feeling of isolation it gave her. Even though they were on a road, the drive was a good thirty feet, and the front wall was obscured by great big trees. Once she was inside the house itself, she felt like she was living in the middle of nowhere.
The kitchen was big, and she quite enjoyed pottering in there but, other than that, she didn’t like any of the other rooms very much. They were beautifully decorated – whoever had lived there before them had wonderful taste – but she felt like an intruder, like she was in someone else’s house.
Daniel, on the other hand, loved it. He walked around admiring things, like the coving and the hardwood doors; the brass door handles were a particular favourite of his. But to Lena, this house was like a hotel, somewhere you visited for a few days and then went back to your own place where you felt safe, secure.
She sighed. She was sighing a lot lately: she had sighed when Ria had picked out the new furniture for her, she had sighed when everyone had squealed with delight over how well it went in the new house. If she lived here for the next twenty years, she had a feeling she would still call it the ‘new house’.
As she walked out to pick up the post she saw herself in the large mirror that Ria said would look perfect. She wasn’t getting any
younger, but at least she looked all right for her age.
She picked up the few bills that were lying innocently on the oatmeal-coloured carpet, and walked aimlessly back into the kitchen. She sat at her new glass and chrome table and, picking up her mug of tea, she took a large gulp. Who needed a glass table this size? It was a bastard to keep clean, and she harboured a secret hope that one of the boys would accidentally break it, smash it into smithereens. According to Ria, it wouldn’t break like a wine glass, it would shatter like a windscreen. Shatter or smash, she didn’t really give a fuck – she just wanted it gone.
She heard her husband coming down the stairs and she automatically poured him a mug of tea.
‘The boys already gone?’
‘Not yet, they’ll be down in a minute.’
Daniel put on the TV he had installed on the worktop. Now, she quite liked that, if she was being honest.
‘They are hardly ever here, Dan, I just do their washing and feed them these days.’
Daniel laughed. ‘Well, they are grown up now, girl, thank Christ. All fleeing the nest, it’s only natural. Only our little Tania left now, eh? She is a clever little mare, did you see her school report? She is a budding genius, that one.’
Lena nodded. She was tempted to point out that of course she had read Tania’s school report – she had read it days before he had in point of fact – but she didn’t.
Noel and Jamsie came into the kitchen noisily, but shut up when they saw their father. They both seemed to be nervous around him. Whatever had happened on the day of the Communion must have been serious. Serious enough for her husband to refuse to even acknowledge their presence in any way for months on end.
‘All right, Dad?’ Jamsie asked warily.
Daniel smiled benignly at them. ‘I’m all right. Now, shut up – the news is on.’
He turned up the volume, and Lena poured the boys out mugs of tea. They sat around the glass table, and she took their breakfasts out of the oven and served them quickly and quietly.
The TV was loud, and she was just about to ask her husband to turn it down but, as she opened her mouth to speak, he hushed her with a furious wave of his arm. The newsreader’s voice was tinny in the quiet of the room.
‘Two men were found murdered last night in East London. They had both been shot, execution style, in the back of the head. Police have named them as Gerald and Patrick Daly, two brothers from the Liverpool area. Police are treating the murders as gangland-related, and have appealed for anyone who might have any information regarding this incident to call them . . .’
Lena saw the way her sons looked at one another, and she knew that the news they had just heard was somehow relevant to both of them.
Daniel had finally turned the TV down and, sitting at the table, he opened his newspaper and started to read it without a word. But the atmosphere in the room was heavy with menace, and she could feel the animosity pouring from her husband. Lena wanted to scream in frustration at the futility of it all.
‘You want any more toast, lads? You got enough?’
They both shook their heads mutely, and she felt so sorry for them, but she knew that she could not interfere.
Ten minutes later they left the house, and the atmosphere immediately lightened.
Daniel got up and walked to the back door,
‘Look at that garden, Lena, like a painting, ain’t it? The gardener says we can expect colour all year round. What do you think of that, eh? He’s a nice old boy, knows his onions so to speak!’
Lena smiled dutifully. ‘Is everything all right with the boys, Daniel?’
He laughed. ‘It is now, Lena, so don’t worry about it. I’ve had to pull them into line, that’s all.’
She sighed. As always she chose to believe him, that was always easiest.
Daniel watched her for a few minutes. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lena! What the fuck is wrong with you lately, girl? You’re walking round like a fucking tit in a trance! Are you feeling all right, love? Are you sickening for something?’
She knew she should say how she felt right this minute, but she couldn’t do it. He loved this house so much, he enjoyed it on every level, he even sat on the patio and read his paper, pleased as punch that he was able to do it, that he was learning how to appreciate this new way of life. Why couldn’t she do the same?
‘I’m just tired, Daniel. The move and everything took it out of me, that’s all. It’s been a busy couple of months.’
He was happy with her answer, and that irritated her for some reason, even though she knew he believed every word she said.
‘Right then, darling, I better get a move on. I need to sort out a few things today.’
He kissed her gently on the lips, and she kissed him back; she did love him still.
Then, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, he looked into her face for a few moments, before saying softly, ‘Enjoy this house, Lena, please. I got it for us, for me, you and little Tania. It’s bought and paid for, and it’s in your name, so even if I get a capture tomorrow and they give me thirty years, this is still all yours, mate. No one can take it away from you. I know you are a fucking hoarder, I know you hide money everywhere, but I swear to you, Lena, we are rich, girl, seriously rich. So stop it, love.’
She was so pleased he had noticed that she was upset, that she smiled widely as she said, ‘Oh, Dan, I really thought you didn’t know I was missing the old place. I can’t seem to settle here.’
‘Well, in all honesty, I’m not surprised, are you? Considering Ria chose everything! Go out, go up west, and buy your own bloody furniture – get a proper table, at least. That glass thing is like something from Tomorrow’s World! I don’t like looking at me feet when I’m eating me dinner!’
She was laughing with him now. He was right – she had been so worried about what should go into a house like this, she had forgotten that, no matter what, it was still her home. Her family’s home.
‘You’re right, Dan. I will buy a new table at least – I hate this bleeding thing too, it feels cold, somehow. I like a nice bit of wood myself.’
Daniel Bailey laughed out loud. ‘Get what you like, you dozy mare! Just cheer up, will you?’
She beamed, but couldn’t stop herself from asking again, ‘Are the boys all right really, Daniel? I know you have been annoyed with them, and I hate it when there’s a bad feeling in the air, you know?’
He grinned. ‘Look, they were out of order, but I’ve sorted it now. So stop worrying, and just start relaxing and enjoying our new home, eh? They’re moving out soon anyway. They’ve all bought flats – with my fucking money, of course! It’s time they started looking after themselves.’
She smiled, but she still felt uneasy. Gangland murders were not something she could overlook as easily as her husband could.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Peter Bailey had heard the news concerning the Daly brothers’ demise within minutes of it happening – as had his brother. Peter had made sure that everyone in the family was well within the public arena as it was going down. There was no way it could lead back to them, no matter what people might think. It had not been cheap, but he had not expected it to be.
Everyone assumed the Daly boys had been chastised severely because they had gone on the rob without the Baileys’ permission and no one would argue with that. Even their own families had been forced to wipe their mouths; the brothers had disregarded any kind of protocol and that could not be overlooked. The main thing was that no one knew the real reason – that they had involved the younger Bailey boys in their affairs. It was imperative that no one saw that there were any weak links in the family.
It had also been a warning to each of the younger Bailey boys of what could happen if you didn’t toe the line. No one worked anything without it being discussed and, more importantly, agreed by them all. That was the only way they could keep themselves safe – the fewer outsiders involved in the big decisions, the better for everyone in the long run.
He sat at his desk and wondered how Daniel was going to move forward. His brother was still fuming over Noel and Jamsie’s foolishness, but Peter believed that’s all it was – young men being foolish, trying to prove themselves; there had been no malice in it.
Peter felt old suddenly. He’d heard, of course, that Daniel was doing a great job with the money laundering, and he was impressed with just how well his brother had done. Tommy Barker still oversaw the business, but that was a formality really; Daniel was a natural at it. He also had the temperament needed to deal with the Russians – they were like Daniel in many ways; they were violent criminals, who were not only uneducated, but were also devoid of any social graces. A match made in heaven really.
Daniel, like him, was earning more than enough on a weekly basis, and they were both teaching their boys the ropes. The sons were still very close, and that was very important because, as a family – as the Baileys – they were a formidable team.
The fly in the ointment, as far as Peter was concerned, was his youngest, Jack. Something was up with him, but Peter wasn’t quite sure what yet. As the youngest, Jack had grown up a bit of an attention seeker. He had plenty of swagger and with his looks had no problem attracting women. He was a natural for the business and Peter had been happy to give him free rein at running his drinking clubs. But Jack had been working less and less recently. Peter’s eyes and ears at the clubs reported that he disappeared for long periods and he was very secretive about where he’d been.
Peter suspected that Petey and Liam were protecting him at the moment. But he was convinced that wouldn’t last – eventually they would have to confide in him. That was the nature of the game they all played – nothing stayed a secret for long, not from Peter Bailey anyway.