Jail Bird (18 page)

Jase drove the car out into the wilds of Kent, found a long, deserted lane beside a field of vivid yellow rape. He parked beneath a stand of oaks and sat there in the driving seat for a moment, looking at his gloved hands shaking on the wheel. He felt sick.

Jesus, he’d really fucked that up.

He’d followed her when she went out in the cab. Saw her going into the restaurant and thought, okay, time to spare, and he needed to go and have a crap; he was nervous, hyped up. This wasn’t his usual type of job. Also, he needed to take his pills. So he had buggered off for an hour or so, then stationed himself in the car near the restaurant’s entrance, and watched and waited. Got the window inched down just enough. Got the gun ready. The instant he saw Lily King’s bright blonde hair and distinctive long-legged walk, he gunned the engine, shot forward and peppered the area where she was standing with a good number of shots. Shit,
one
of them should have taken her out at least, but she hadn’t been hit and he knew it. He’d looked in the rear-view mirror and seen
them all getting back to their feet. She wasn’t hit. She was fine. And so – thank God – was the geezer with her.

Yeah, she fucking well would be,
thought Jase.
Bitch had the luck of the devil.

His head drooped forward until it was resting on the wheel. He could hear the hard, nauseating thudding of his heart as he lay there, shaking, sick to his stomach. He pictured the scene all over again. Lily with a man, and that man had a minder, and the car was big, black and expensive, probably a Beamer or maybe even a Bentley, and he had shot past,
zoomed
past after he’d fired the shots that should have taken out Lily King, but not before he had time to see, to realize, who that man was.

Nick O’Rourke.

He’d fucking near done a hit on Nick O’Rourke.

And that was something you never, ever did. Not if you were fond of going on breathing.

‘
Shit!
’ he groaned, pounding the steering wheel with his fists.

He took a breath, tried to calm himself down a bit.

It was okay. It would all be okay. Because Freddy had fixed him up with the car, two-tone, rust and dirt. It was a clapped-out old Nova, fast but near fatal collapse, and the plates were fake. And…they couldn’t have seen him. He’d gone by there flat out. They
couldn’t
have seen him, no way.

He gulped down more breaths and the furious thumping of his heart seemed to steady a bit.

Yeah, it would be fine. Only…no. It was far from fine, because Freddy had wanted Lily offed and Jase had failed to do that. Jase had so
needed
to do that, because then Freddy would have put a good word in with Si. Freddy would have said that he was a sound worker, a good bloke. Then maybe
Si would have taken him back on the firm, given him his door back, and maybe then he’d soften about this Oli business too, and
then
all Jase’s dreams – no, his
plans
– would come true.

But he had fucked up.

Now, there would be no recommendation from Freddy. Now there would be a right royal kicking instead – if he was lucky. And God help him if Nick O’Rourke ever found out that Jase had nearly topped him. Then it would be curtains for sure.

It was all going wrong.
Everything
was going wrong.

He could hear somewhere, away in the distance, a tractor moving.

‘Oh fuck…’ he said on a shuddering breath, and stuffed the gun into his coat pocket, threw open the door, went stumbling round on the mud-spattered road to the boot. He opened it, got the can of paraffin out, unscrewed the cap, and went back to the driver’s seat and doused the whole thing in the stuff. The chemical stench of it hit his nostrils and he gagged. Spattered a load of the stuff across the passenger seat, and in the back too. Shook it out until the can was empty. Then he stepped well back, rummaged around for his ciggy lighter, flicked it. Flame danced in his hand.

He threw the lighter into the car. A warm
whumph
of air hit him as the paraffin ignited. He stepped back further, stumbled, nearly went into the ditch. The tractor’s engine sounded louder, closer. He started back off down the road. Didn’t want the carrot-crunchers spotting him. It was a long walk back to the nearest town, but he was going to have to do it.

He was fifty yards away when the petrol tank blew.

Jesus!

The noise of it was shattering. He stopped, turned, looked back at the blazing remnants of the car. Well, that was one job he hadn’t arsed up. He’d destroyed the evidence. The Bill would never get DNA or any forensics shit out of
that.

He turned and walked on. Felt tired. His chest hurt. He wondered if maybe he ought to ease off the steroids a bit. Maybe he would, when he’d straightened out the mess he was in. Got everything back on track again, running like it should. He knew he could do it.

He walked on.

Now how did this happen?
wondered Lily. She was in Nick’s house, in Nick’s bed.
How?

But she knew. The shooting and Nick’s tender consideration after it had shaken her. She knew she could just as easily have been dead right now. Not lying in Nick’s big, cosy bed with him but on a slab in a morgue. In her weakened state, she had come back to Nick’s with him, accepted a brandy, and then a kiss…and then, well, the rest was history.

Of course she knew how it had happened. She’d been vulnerable. Also, she’d always, always been massively attracted to Nick. She couldn’t believe it had never happened before, really.

She lay there in the middle of the day, wrapped up in his arms, and knew there’d been another factor too: twelve long years in prison; long dry years when she had struggled to damp down any urges she might have. She didn’t want to take the lesbian route, although a lot of girls inside did. She kept herself to herself, exercised hard, kept her head down. Did her time.

‘You’re quiet,’ said Nick sleepily, dropping a lazy kiss onto her brow.

‘Blonde joke,’ said Lily.

‘Oh God.’

‘What do you call an intelligent blonde?’

‘A golden Labrador.’

Lily sat up, feigning outrage. ‘You’ve just ruined my punch line.’

‘Don’t do that,’ he said, half smiling.

‘Don’t do what?’

‘Tell jokes against yourself. You’re not a dumb blonde. But I know what it is. It’s a defence. You always were a shy girl. Always fending off admiration with a joke or two.’

Lily flopped back down. Yeah, he was probably right. She ran a hand over his chest, over the dark curling hair there. He was so gorgeous. Better looking than Leo, he always had been. But Leo could charm the birds out of the trees, could fill a room with his loudness. And she
had
been shy in those days, repelling attention, Nick was right about that.

Now she looked at Nick and wished he’d tried harder. Competed for her instead of stepping back, growing cold towards her, when Leo started to take an interest. If he had fought for her…then, oh how different her life could have been. Couldn’t it?

Or would it have been the same with minor variations? Nick was no saint. Would he have cheated on her, played up to the boys, just like Leo did, once she was safely knocked up and tucked away in the marital home?

She sighed.

‘And what was that for?’ asked Nick, rolling over.

‘You’re crushing my left tit,’ complained Lily.

‘No I’m not. There you are, you see? Humour as a defence.’

‘You’re so bloody clever.’

‘And you’re so bloody lovely,’ said Nick, and kissed her hard enough to take all thoughts of the next joke clean out of her head.

‘Nick…’ she whispered against his mouth.

‘Hush,’ said Nick, and kissed her again, and made love to her all over again, and it was wonderful, so much better than it had ever been with Leo; Leo had been all wham-bang-thank-you-ma’am, but Nick took his time, made her shudder and cry with the intensity of her orgasm.

Oh God, all those years,
she thought with deep wrenching sadness.
All those wasted bloody years.

Again they lay quiet, sated, twined together.

Finally Lily drew breath and opened her mouth to speak.

‘Not another blonde joke, please,’ said Nick, eyes closed, lips forming a smile.

‘Do you think Julia would speak to me?’ she asked.

Nick turned his head, opened his eyes and stared at her. ‘Don’t know. I haven’t seen Julia in years. And I don’t know that it’s a good idea you seeing her, either.’

Lily stared into his dark, dark eyes.

‘Those bullets weren’t meant for you, were they?’ she asked.

He lay back, shrugged. ‘I’ve got a few enemies.’

‘Seems I have too.’

‘I don’t like you doing all this.’

‘All what?’

‘Seeing people. I know you’ve been seeing people, Lily.’

‘People?’

‘Like a private detective. Like Reba Stuart. And Adrienne Thomson…’

‘And Alice Blunt?’

He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘Yeah, her too.

You’re looking for answers to something, and maybe somebody out there doesn’t like it.’

Of course he knew what she’d been doing. Nick had always been the gleaner of intelligence. If you wanted to know anything, you asked Nick. He kept his ear to the ground. Had a network of people beavering away. He wanted to know everyone’s secrets – but he kept his own close to his chest.

‘Look,’ said Lily, propping herself up on one arm and staring down at his face. ‘I’ve already got an address for her. And yes, the private detective – that’s Jack Rackland by the way, but then I bet you already know that – he’s found it for me. But I thought I’d talk to you first.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s nothing to me whether or not you talk to Julia. But I don’t want you placing yourself in a dangerous situation. Pursuing some sort of stupid vendetta that’s going to land you in trouble.’

‘Hey, it’s not up to you to be my nursemaid,’ pointed out Lily.

‘Well, pardon me for giving a shit.’

‘I have to talk to Julia.’

Now he sat up, looking truly exasperated. ‘Look. I’d rather you didn’t,’ he said.

‘Oh. Why?’

‘Haven’t I just told you why? You’re going to wind up in a heap of trouble, and what for? Lily – you’re
out.
You’re
free.
Why not just let it go now? Why not just appreciate it?’

Lily looked at his broad, well-muscled back and thought,
And if you were involved in Leo’s death, ain’t that exactly what I’d expect you to say?

Suddenly she felt uneasy, as if she’d thoughtlessly leapt into a situation that she ought not to have placed herself in
at all. She cursed herself for being so weak, for caving in after the trauma of the shooting and falling into bed with Nick when really she should have stayed away. Kept it business-like. Nick had a good reason for killing Leo, and she was stupid to have let her attraction to him override that.

‘Look,’ he said, swiping an agitated hand through his hair, his expression tense with irritation as he half turned and looked at her. ‘Why not move in here? Or back into the safe flat?’

‘You’re joking.’

‘Do I
look
like I’m joking?’

‘Why, so you can keep an eye on me? Make sure I don’t talk to anyone I shouldn’t?’

‘Something like that, yes.’

Lily nodded slowly, biting her lip. Fury was building in her. She threw back the sheet and stood up, started hunting around for her clothes.

‘You know what, Nick?’ She rounded on him suddenly. ‘I’ve
been
locked up for twelve years. Before
that
I was locked into a loveless marriage, just making the best of it. Before
that
my parents made me feel a failure and – when I got pregnant – a slut. Do you
really
think I need to be locked up again, kept safe, kept
under control? Do you?
’

‘Lily, for God’s sake…’

‘No! Don’t say another word. I’ve heard enough. Now where the
fuck
are my shoes?’

‘She tried to get the security company to change it all back,’ said Oli accusingly, her eyes resting on her sullen-faced sister.

They were sitting in the kitchen when Lily got back from Nick’s. Lily came in through the back door and experienced a strong sense of déjà vu. Here were her two girls, replaying a scene from their youth. Saz trying to seize control, and Oli complaining to their mother about it. Same old, same old.

She felt weary and confused. The drive-by attempt, her angry parting from Nick, had left her drained. She looked at Oli. Looked at Saz.

‘I’m going up for a bath,’ she said, and walked through the kitchen, away from them both.

‘Hey!’ Saz had followed her out into the hall.

Lily walked on, heading for the stairs. She couldn’t face another showdown with Saz, not now.

‘Hey!’
Saz caught her arm, spun her around.

Lily looked at her daughter. Registered the intense hatred on her face, saw her own features in that face that was so twisted with anger. Felt sad, and tired.

‘Where’s Richard?’ asked Lily.

‘What?’ Saz frowned, wrong-footed.

‘Your husband. Richard.’

‘Out. Golf.’

That boy’s no fool,
thought Lily. Saz in a bad mood was not something anyone would want to encounter close up. Again, she felt a pang of pity for Richard. It would take a very strong man to stand up to Saz – or a very weak one to accommodate her.

‘And I don’t see what the hell that’s got to do with anything,’ said Saz, recovering her angry stance.

Lily looked down at Saz’s hand, still gripping her forearm with bruising force.

‘You can let me go now,’ said Lily mildly. ‘You want to talk? Okay, let’s talk.’

‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ snapped Saz.

Over her shoulder, Lily saw Oli come out and stand in the kitchen doorway, watching them anxiously. She’d foreseen problems and, sure enough, here they were, staring them all in the face.

‘You just want to shout the odds,’ said Lily.

‘No! Not even that! I just want you to get the
fuck
out of our home,’ bellowed Saz, releasing her arm with a furious flick of disdain.

‘Saz phoned up the security company and asked them to come back and reprogramme everything,’ said Oli from the doorway. ‘Just like you said she would. Only she didn’t have the new passwords or anything, so they wouldn’t do it.’

‘Why don’t you shut
up,
you little snitch,’ said Saz angrily to Oli. Oli went pale. Lily could see how much she hated being at odds with her sister.

Saz turned back to Lily. ‘I want you
out
of here.’

Lily stared hard at Saz’s face, pinched up, ugly and suffused with rage. She knew Saz. Knew that change rattled her. Knew that once she took up a stance on an issue, she’d stick to it regardless of any evidence that she could be mistaken. But for fuck’s sake – she was this girl’s
mother.

‘Why are you so sure I did it?’ Lily asked her. ‘Why do you want to believe the worst of me?’

Saz was silent, fuming.

‘What is it, Saz?’ asked Lily quietly. ‘Is it that you’ve hated me for twelve years, and if it’s true that I didn’t kill your dad, you’ve been proved wrong and you’ve hated me for nothing? Is that it? What, are you going to lose face if you change your mind?’

‘You killed him,’ sneered Saz, nodding her head for emphasis.

Lily turned away, finding it too painful even to look at her daughter right now.

‘Yeah, you go right on believing that,’ she sighed, and went on up the stairs.

‘You killed him!’ yelled Saz after her.

The bath helped. Luxury again. She’d always been a girl with a taste for that, and it had made prison all the harder. She soaked for a long, lazy time in lavender-scented bubbles, relishing the hot water, the time she could spend just wallowing, just day-dreaming…and, despite herself, thinking of Nick.

She was trying so hard
not
to think of Nick, but there he was in her mind, intruding, his eyes boring into her own, first fierce and then gentle…and there was a faint echo of his scent still on her body, a welcome soreness that the warm water eased. Her breasts were tender from the pressure of
his lips and teeth. There were finger-shaped bruises forming on her thighs. She felt…good; physically satisfied in a way that she had never been with Leo.

But she had parted with Nick on bad terms. He didn’t want her to contact Julia. But she knew she must, even though it was the last thing she really wanted to do. Every fresh discovery about Leo was making her feel more debilitated, more ground down. Still, she wanted to know,
ached
to know, who had let her stew inside for all those years. And when she found out who that someone was, she was going to make them suffer, too.

After an hour or so she got out of the bath, dressed, applied make-up, combed her hair and looked at herself in the mirror and thought,
I could be dead right now.

Someone had tried to kill her. Her gut feeling was that she had been the target, not Nick. She was pretty sure Freddy or Si King were behind it too. Or…she paused, staring at her reflection with a frown. Maybe she had other enemies too. Maybe people had been talking and someone knew she was looking around for answers. Maybe someone thought she was getting too close.

She shuddered, because when she thought of
enemies,
it was
Saz’s
face she saw in her brain, twisted with hatred for her own mother. Saz believed Lily had killed Leo, and refused to be swayed from that opinion.

But I’m her mother. We were close once.

Hopefully soon Saz would begin to see that Lily was not the monster she believed her to be. And Lily had to go on with what she’d started. She picked up the phone and dialled out.

It rang and rang. No answer.

She dialled again.

Come on. Pick up.

‘Hello?’ said a female voice, just as Lily was about to put the phone down.

Lily jumped, startled. The woman’s voice on the other end was loud, aggressive.

‘Who’s that?’ demanded the voice. ‘Come on, who is it?’

‘Julia? Is that you?’ asked Lily.

‘Who’s that? What do you want?’

Now Lily could hear the edge of fear in the voice. Not aggression; fear. ‘It’s Lily. Lily King. I’m…I’m out, Julia. And I’d like to talk to you.’

There was dead silence from the other end. In the background, there was a rhythmic noise, like a distant motor.

‘Julia?’ prompted Lily. ‘You there?’

‘Yeah. I’m here. I’m not talking to you,’ she said, and put the phone down.

Lily dialled again, but Julia didn’t pick up.

She put the phone aside. Then she snatched it up again and phoned Becks.

‘Jesus! Lily! I wondered where you’d got to,’ said Becks, sounding breezy but with an undercurrent of awkwardness. Lily knew Becks must feel really bad about having to turn her out. But she wasn’t going to hold a grudge over that.

‘I’m still here,’ said Lily.

‘Where’s here?’ said Becks, giving a half-laugh. ‘Joe said he heard you were staying at The Fort? I said you couldn’t be.’

‘Well I am.’

‘But Si…and Maeve…’ said Becks falteringly.

‘The girls are here with me. Oli. And Saz.’

‘Right.’ Becks was quiet again. ‘It’s…nice to hear from you, Lils.’

‘Yeah.’

Becks didn’t sound as if it was nice to hear from her old friend Lily. She sounded like Lily had just put the kibosh on her whole day. Desperation seized Lily suddenly. She wanted to go back to a time when their friendship had been an easy, cosy thing; back before Leo had died and she had been sent down. She wanted to feel
normal
again.

‘Maybe we could meet up?’ she suggested. ‘Do lunch with the girls, like we used to?’

Lunch with the girls.
The ladies who lunched.
That’s what they had all been, back in the day. Blowing their husbands’ ill-gotten gains before the taxman got wind of too much cash hanging about the place. How carefree and shallow and
stupid
they had been, living the high life with all their designer gear and moody sports cars and spa treatments, but without a doubt it had been fun. Lily had bought into the luxury lifestyle big-time. After the upbringing she’d had, that chilly, repressive, hand-to-mouth life of proud poverty, it had been like release from a cage. But now…oh, now she knew she’d just exchanged one cage for another. It had been a comfortable one, but a cage nevertheless.

‘Monday?’ suggested Lily, hearing the eagerness in her own voice but unable to suppress it. ‘We always met on a Monday, didn’t we, at Luigi’s?’

‘Um,’ said Becks, ‘Luigi’s closed down.’

‘Oh!’ Lily felt foolish, wrong-footed. ‘So where do the girls meet now?’

‘Well…Le Soleil,’ said Becks doubtfully. ‘In Cheap Street.’

‘There, then,’ said Lily. ‘One o’clock? All the girls? You, me, Hairy Mary…’

‘What about Maeve?’

It was true that Maeve had once been among Lily’s circle of friends. Now she was among her circle of enemies

‘Does she usually come?’

‘Yeah, she does. Usually.’
But if you’re there, it’s going to be tricky.

Lily heard the unspoken words as clearly as if they had been telegraphed to her over the wires.

‘Um…Becks. I don’t think she’ll want to come if I’m there. And…I don’t really want to see Adrienne there, if that’s okay with you?’

‘Oh yeah. Sure,’ said Becks quickly. ‘I understand, Lils. Totally’

‘That’s a date then, yeah?’ asked Lily, trying to ignore the part about Maeve, trying to ignore Becks’s obvious unease with this call. She was trying to start afresh; why would no one let her start over like she wanted to?

‘Yeah,’ said Becks, clearly making an effort. ‘Yeah. Great. Sure.’

Lily rang off, wondering if it was really safe to go out and about after what had happened with Nick outside the restaurant. But bollocks to it. She’d done with all that, skulking in corners, hiding away from the world. Now she was going to come out in the open.

Then the phone rang, and she picked up.

‘Hello?’ It was probably Becks again, wanting to alter something.

Breathing.

‘Hello?’ said Lily again, her heart starting to speed up, her mouth drying to dust. ‘Who is that?’

But they didn’t answer.

Lily put the phone down with a shaking hand and sat there staring at it.

It rang again.

This
time, she didn’t answer.