Human Conditioning (8 page)

Gina shook her head in
despair. “What are you talking about, Aiden?”

Gripping the top of her free
arm, he pulled her round to face his glacial glare and hissed, “You’ve been
with Jason Ryan, haven’t you?”

Gina stared at him and gulped,
placing the kettle down slowly. “Where d’you get an idea like that from?” she
replied.

She wondered who Aiden had got
to spy on her, and the thought stirred up mixed feelings of anger and panic.
The truth was, she
had
seen Jason a few times, but not recently, not
tonight. Tonight had been worse, much worse than a brief fling with a bloke she
didn’t give a toss about, but she couldn’t tell Aiden what her father
frequently did to her. She couldn’t tell anyone. The only other person who knew
their sordid secret was her mother and she had fucked off and left her to rot.

When she had been a child, her
father used to tell her that Mummy would be very cross if she didn’t do as he
said, that Mummy wouldn’t love her anymore, but she fucked off anyway! Now that
she was older, her father could only use guilt and force to ensure her
compliance and, however much she hated her father, when he used her body it
fulfilled that part of her that craved the intimacy she had grown to rely upon.
She craved that intimacy, because she never had her father’s attention any
other time. The confusing thing nowadays was that she knew how fucked up that
was.

She had become to understand that
what her father did to her was abnormal. But at the end of the day, it was all
she knew. To find out that what you thought was normal for the most part of
your life in fact wasn’t, was beyond a head-fuck.   

Gina shrugged Aiden off and
walked into the living room, but he didn’t give up the fight. He followed her
in. “Are you telling me that you’ve had Jason round here tonight, then?” he
spat from the doorway.

“
I ain’t seen him, alright
?”
she bellowed suddenly, at the top of her voice, her cheeks flushing with
frustration. This was getting ridiculous, even for Aiden! She had heard enough.
Men and their fucking egos!

Her temper was at full capacity now. She stormed back out
of the room, back into the hallway, barging Aiden out of the way as she passed
him. “
Now get the fuck out
!” she bellowed, once more.

Aiden was momentarily stunned.
She was evidently really upset about something or other, but not one to find compassion
when he felt he was being treated unfairly, he accosted her before she could
open the front door.

He had the overwhelming urge to slap her hard across the
face. Instead, he pinned her to the wall. “You talk to me like that again and I
won’t be leaving so quietly next time, do you understand?” he spat through
clenched teeth.

She pushed him away and, as
she did so, her dressing gown opened, revealing dark, purple blemishes across
her shoulder blade. Aiden stared at them for a long moment then his eyes shot
up to hers. He gulped. Gina glared at him, tears pricking her eyes, but her
expression was wholly defensive, as if she was daring him to be so pitiful as
to ask what had happened to her. He didn’t. He merely licked his lips and
nodded, his eyes graciously averting from hers to the front door. He opened it
then he was gone.

Reggie was three sheets to the wind when Aiden entered the
estate’s local public house, The Stag, after eleven o’clock. Last orders had
been called, but when Reggie was there, the bar didn’t close until he decided to
leave.

Damien Weller, the owner of the pub, was well aware that
Aiden was underage, but again, one word from Reggie and Damien had been obliged
to serve Aiden and any of his acquaintances, plus Aiden looked old enough if
the Old Bill came in.

Ordering a pint of Stella, he
joined Reggie at his table in the corner, still reeling from his argument with
Gina. “What you sitting on your tod for?”

“I ain’t...” Reggie replied
with a wide, toothy grin.

Aiden looked up to see a busty
blonde, nearer his age than Reggie’s, returning from the bathroom and heading
in their direction. She was dressed in a gold sparkly boob tube, tight white
jeans and trainers. She was pretty but not pretty enough to interest him. She
slipped a slim arm around Reggie’s shoulders and smiled down at him. Aiden
realised he was sitting in her seat and he lackadaisically stood and gestured
for her to sit.

“This is Hailey,” Reggie
announced. Aiden shook her hand half-heartedly. Reggie’s eyes went from his
date, who wasn’t being very inconspicuous in her reaction to Aiden’s good
looks, to Aiden, who wasn’t paying any attention to her at all. His mind seemed
elsewhere. “You look like you’re ready to commit a murder, Aiden. What’s up?”

Aiden shook his head and ran a
hand over his face. “Gina’s just been on one tonight...” he tailed off and
thought about the bruising he’d seen on her body. He instinctively knew it had
come from her father. She wouldn’t be so coy about it if it had been anyone
else. She would have screamed it from the rooftops and been on a rampage to
seek revenge. Roy Watson was a slippery bastard. It didn’t surprise him one bit
that he would beat on his own daughter. He was a coward and a slave to the ale,
like his father.

“So, how do you two know each other?”
Hailey asked, breaking through his reverie.

Aiden stared down at her. He
didn’t like her voice; it was squeaky and made her sound more stupid than she
probably was. Setting his thoughts aside, he smiled his beautiful model smile
and briefly explained that he worked for Reggie. The conversation was cut short
when Gina skulked into the pub. Reggie’s eyebrows rose and he nodded to Aiden,
who turned to see her searching the empty bar.

“He’s not here,” confirmed a
disgruntled Damien, who didn’t appreciate the new arrival after hours. But he
couldn’t say anything. He knew Gina was an acquaintance of Aiden’s. He knew her
father too, all too well. Roy had been in that night. He had got hammered, as
usual, and had left at about ten thirty. Still, Gina didn’t enquire into the movements
of her father. She was just pleased she’d missed him. She had taken a risk
coming in tonight. If he had seen her with Aiden, he certainly would have kicked
off again, the mood he had been in.

Gina remained by the door,
staring at Aiden. “I’ll leave you two to it,” Aiden announced politely to
Reggie, smiling once again at Hailey. Then he strolled over to the bar, leaving
Gina to follow behind him. Ordering vodka and lemonade, he turned and stared at
her, coolly. He idly noticed that she had put on make-up and had changed into a
sexy mini-skirt and heels. She looked hot.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked after
a painful silence.

Aiden took a gulp of his pint
and set it down. “What for?” he asked impassively.

She closed her eyes. “Don’t
make me beg, Aiden.”

“After talking to me the way
you did, I don’t think you should be asking me for favours, do you?” he
replied, flatly his eyebrows jerking up to emphasis his point. He was scolding
her as if she were a child. She didn’t reply. She wasn’t meant to.

Her eyes dropped to the floor,
his penetrative stare too much to bear. Aiden liked to milk any opportunity he
got to chastise her, and she let him, petrified that one day he might not
forgive her and she would never see him again. It was the disadvantage of adoring
him so much. To keep the peace between them was something she fought for
repeatedly, whatever the circumstance.

Snaking an arm around her
back, he pulled her into him and slipped his tongue into her mouth. His kiss
was deep and filled with vigour, and she knew she was forgiven. “Drink up,” he commanded
as he pulled away. Gina drained her glass whilst he said his goodbyes to Reggie
and Hailey. When he returned to the bar, he downed the rest of his pint and,
taking her by the hand, led her outside.

“What’s with the bruises?” he
asked as they stepped out into the night.

Gina gulped. “I’d rather not
talk about it.”

He nodded and sparked up a
cigarette. After a long, silent moment, he glanced at her. “Anything I can do?”

She felt the prick of tears and wrapped her arms around
his neck. “You’re so sweet when you want to be, Aiden Foster,” she whispered,
gazing up into his fine-looking face.

Aiden laughed and stepped back
out of her embrace. She beamed up at him. She loved the sound of Aiden’s
laughter. It was a rare treat that filled her heart with warmth and affection
for him. He shook his head and his lips pressed into a line, his eyebrows
furrowing slightly. “I’m many things, Gina, but sweet ain’t one of them...”

“Well, I think you are,” she murmured.

His eyes narrowed a touch and
Gina knew that he was trying his hardest to process the compliment and not
succeeding. “Come on, stop all this nancy talk,” he muttered and taking her
hand, they headed home.

Aiden’s visits to Lowe & Son motor garage had become
a regular occurrence for several months now, unbeknown to Steve Lowe.

Steve had taken over the
family business in the heart of Hackney back in 1961 after the death of his
father, who had established Lowe & Son just after World War II. Now fifty-nine
years of age, Steve was looking to hand the lot over to
his
son, Alex.

Steve, like his father before
him, was as straight as they came. He didn’t have a record, he paid his taxes
and every bit of business that had come through the garage doors since his
takeover had been legit. So he’d never have guessed in a million years that his
son altered the books twice a month to allow motors stolen by Aiden Foster to
be stripped down, repainted and sent back onto the street, as good as new,
within forty-eight hours.

“You working late again, son?”
Steve asked proudly, one chilly Wednesday evening. Alex was head first inside
the bonnet of a Ford Transit when his father passed him with his coat on. “I’m
off out with your mum tonight. Some bloody works do. It’ll be filled with suits
and pen-pushers. I sometimes wonder why she picked me when she could have had
one of those accountants with soft skin and no dirt under their nails.”

Alex hauled himself out from
the van’s bonnet and wiped his hands on a dirty rag he’d stuffed into his belt.
“Because they’re fucking poofters, that’s why... we’re real men who do a real
day’s work,” he responded flatly.

Alex was a good-looking kid,
though a little skinny for his height, with dark, shaven hair and brown eyes. Though
forever in oil-stained jeans or jogging bottoms and a tatty vest that showed
off his many tattoos, the girls found his firm, inked body and general
ruggedness rather alluring. Alex didn’t spend too much time obsessing about the
opposite sex mind. He was more interested in making money.

Steve smiled at his son. He
couldn’t be more proud of his only child. He and his wife had worked hard to
ensure the boy stayed on the straight and narrow. It wasn’t easy growing up
around council estates. Steve had grown up on one, but after a good few years’
hard work, he had made enough money to free his family from benefit housing and
buy a place they could call their own. But the influence was always there, the
allure to join those who wanted to earn a quick buck on the wrong side of the law.
Steve knew his son associated with a few petty criminals his age, but he had
prided himself on keeping his son out of any real trouble by giving him a job
at the garage.

Leaving with a reminder for
his son to lock the doors when he was done, Steve headed to his car.

Aiden hung back and waited for Mr Lowe to pull his Astra
out of his parking space and head off home. When the tail lights of the car
disappeared around the corner, Aiden swaggered down the dark road, lighting a
cigarette as he went. When he neared the doors that read ‘Lowe & Son’ in
large white letters, a white transit van reversed out and he watched as Alex
expertly swung the vehicle into a parking space opposite. He then jumped out of
the van and headed over to Aiden.

“It’s ready, then?” Aiden
asked at his approach.

“Yeah, just gotta go get it. There’s
beer in the fridge. I’ll be back in five,” Alex confirmed and headed off in the
same direction Aiden had come.

When he arrived back at the
garage in a silver, once red, Astra, Aiden appeared from the garage office with
two cans of Stella in hand. Alex jumped out of the motor. “Alright, innit?” He
gestured to the car, running his hand up and down the new paint work.

“Wouldn’t recognise it!” Aiden
replied enthusiastically, passing Alex his beer. He took it gratefully and threw
back a few large swigs. “How much should we get for it?” Aiden asked.

“I reckon you’d flog it for
about eleven hundred...”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Three hundred...”

Aiden nodded and pulled out a
handful of notes. He counted out one hundred pounds in tens and handed it over.
“Hundred now, the rest once it’s sold, as normal,” he confirmed.

Alex took the money and
stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. Aiden offered him a cigarette and
he obliged. Taking a long pull, he stretched with tiredness and upon his exhalation,
he said, “You know, we could make this a good little earner, if you could bring
in more motors.”

This caught Aiden’s attention
immediately. He’d been thinking the same himself. “How many do you reckon you
could pull off?”

Alex thought about this
seriously. He had learned pretty quickly that Aiden Foster was a doer and so
took every suggestion or statement as confirmation of a firm plan. Bringing
more cars through the garage was going to be a bigger risk; that was a given. Not
only would he have to cover up materials and monies used for the deals, but
actually making sure he was never caught working on the cars and hiding the
cars from his father were the two biggest challenges he would have to face. Regular
drop-offs could cause suspicion if he wasn’t careful enough. But as always, the
money he and Aiden could potentially make was his prime motivation. “Two a
week,” he finally confirmed with conviction.