Serious People (37 page)

“I have?” Emma snapped, unable to listen to the rhetoric of the old woman any longer. “You evil witch. If it wasn’t for you, John could have made something of himself years ago. He’s only still here because of the guilt syndrome you’ve given him.”

Mary looked horrified. “It is not my fault that the boy wasn’t here to defend his family, on the one night he was needed to be, when his mother was attacked.”

“You bitch,” Emma replied. “He was a little boy!”

“If he had been there that night, it never would have happened. He was big enough to have done something to frighten the man off,” Mary said, her words full of venom. It was clear she believed what she was saying.

“John has spent his whole life looking out for his brothers. It’s a miracle he’s grown up to be the man he is and not been twisted by you, like the others,” Emma said, her hands turning to fists.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Mary replied loudly, looking around for the paramedic.

“Where are John and his brothers?” Emma said, no longer whispering.

“I don’t know!” Mary shouted.

Two police officers, who were standing nearby, turned to look at the two women; Emma knew if she was to get any information out of Mary, she would have to try to calm the old woman down and try a different tack.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried about John. I think you’ve done a great job bringing up the three boys like you have,” she said, as sincerely as she could. She could tell by the old woman’s face that Mary’s sense of self-importance was allowing her to be taken in by the words. “But what happened here?”

Mary studied Emma’s face for a moment before speaking, seemingly trying to assess the authenticity of her words. “This was nothing to do with my boys. They were somewhere else. They're becoming serious businessmen now.”

Emma stared at Mary, unable to think of what next to ask. She knew the old woman was mad enough to believe that any involvement the brothers had in crime was, in some way, equivalent to having a career in the world of business.

Emma sighed; there was no point in trying to get any further information from the evil bitch. She was about to walk towards the police van again and ask if they knew any more, when her phone buzzed into life. She looked at it, hoping to see John’s name appear, but instead it was a withheld number. She still hoped it might be him as she answered.

“Emma Fuller?” a firm male voice asked.

“Yes?”

“I need you to do something very important for me. If you haven’t already you will shortly be receiving a text from John Blake.”

“From John?!”

The man on the end of the phone didn’t speak for a moment.

“Yes, I need you to delete it as soon as you receive it,” the man said.

“What why? Where’s John?”

“If you don’t, I will kill your father Keith Fuller and your mother. Their address is 12 Rowley Way, in Wembley. I will also find you and throw you down a flight of stairs; I’ve always found that the most effective way to lose a baby. Do you need me to confirm your address?”

Emma’s chest was tight; she slumped against a nearby ambulance.

“I’m not joking. This is real; and I’m on an untraceable phone. You’ll never find me. And, most importantly, you should know that I can monitor whether you open that text or delete it,” the man continued.

“Where’s John,” Emma said, only managing a whisper. Tears rolled down her face.

“I don’t want to hurt you Emma or your parents; but I’m a professional and I’ll do what’s necessary.”

“Please, where’s John.”

“Do you understand and will you delete that text? This is important—I need two yeses.”

“Yes, yes!”

“Ok. Now I need you to know I’m serious. I’m going to send you a picture message, because not knowing in life is the greatest pain. And I don’t wish to inflict this on you.”

Emma couldn’t speak; she was horrified because somehow she knew what the picture was going to show.

“Remember I will kill you and those you love most, if you don’t delete that text.”

The phone went dead. A second later the phone buzzed twice again, confirming the arrival of two messages. One was from John, the other from a number she didn’t recognise.

Before her mind knew what her fingers were doing she clicked on the picture text from the unknown number.

She looked down at the image on her phone and screamed.

Charlie walked into Nue Valbonne’s nightclub, paused, and took a moment to enjoy the view. There were a few hundred people there; the place was full of Charlie and Jackie’s family and friends, all together celebrating his wife’s birthday. The place was buzzing, everyone had a smile on his or her face, drinking and dancing. It was superb.

Yes, Charlie thought. This is exactly what I was hoping for.

In the centre of all of them was Jackie; she looked amazing. It was like she wasn’t ill at all. She was completely alive again. Charlie watched her move on the dance floor—he could watch her all night.

He looked down at his hands, worried for a moment that the trembling might have returned, but it hadn’t. There was no shaking at all. He felt strong, full of power once again. It was as if a curse had been lifted from him. He was in control of his life once more.

On stage at the end of the dance floor Wild n’ Weird were jumping around, strutting their stuff like they were the Stones or something. It was just as if he had stepped back in time—perfect, just perfect. Charlie smiled. He had chosen the venue specifically; the Nue Valbonne nightclub, the place where Charlie had first met Jackie more than twenty years ago, in front of the same bloody awful band. 

The Nue Valbonne was not the type of club that was normally filled with dance music and teenagers until the early hours. It was more sophisticated than that; more of a venue for rock bands or comedy acts. The place had an iconic status in the music business now, its name was linked to the emergence of a host of famous bands who played there on the way to the top.

The owner, back in the time when Charlie had first met Jackie, was Jake Miller. He’d always described the club as being something like London’s Cavern. He proudly declared that, if there was another Beatles out there, you’d be likely to find them playing at the Nue Valbonne. This also made it a great venue for men like Payne and Charlie to push their new product. 

The dance clubs were useless to them, full of clubbers who just stocked up on pills like ecstasy, which Charlie and Robert knew from previous experience there was no real money in. They had bigger ambitions and cocaine was the sort of product that could match their thirst for money. A rock club was their perfect market place, guaranteed not to be filled with the same penniless teenagers as the dance clubs. The drugs game, Robert Payne had explained, was a business like any other and required knowledge and market research. He understood the average age in live music venues was twenty to thirties, people with more money in their pocket and who wanted something more high spec.

It was like a spell had been lifted, he could now remember everything about that night, every moment had been returned to his memory.

Just before he’d seen her, he'd been having an argument with the owner of Valbonnes about their presence in the establishment. Jake, up till then, had been fine with Charlie and Robert’s boys being in the place. This was largely down to the nice little kick back he got from them. But the week before, he’d been raided by the old bill and was now clearly worried about his license.

“Jake,” Robert said, his face razor sharp with aggression. “Don’t take the piss; we put two grand in your pocket last week.”

“I know Robert, I know. And I do appreciate everything you boys do for me. But you have to understand that this club is my livelihood; if I lose my license that’s me done,” the owner had said in practically a whimper.

Jake was acutely aware, even back then, when Charlie and Robert weren’t yet the top boys in London, they were still not people to mess around.

“Leave the police to us,” Robert replied. “Don’t worry your pretty face about them, Jake.”

Jake looked at Charlie, hoping for more understanding. “Charlie, you know how it is. You’ve run clubs; you know how difficult it is with things like your license.”

Charlie didn’t like people looking to him for sympathy. Most people were smart enough to understand that they should only try the sympathy card with Robert. And if that didn’t work, then they should just give the hell up. He put his hand in his pocket and grabbed hold of the small pistol he kept there. He felt like pushing the gun into Jake’s chubby face and asking him how he thought a hole in his face might help his next license application.

Charlie relaxed, took his hand out of his pocket and made a smile rather like a hungry crocodile. “Jake, Jake, Jake. Do you really expect me to answer that?”

Robert turned and smiled at Charlie, who nodded back. They were the perfect team, the thinker and the killer. They could swap into each other roles when necessary; but Robert could never match the fear that Charlie could inspire in someone with one of his joyless smiles. Just as Charlie could not match Robert’s street smarts.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do Jake,” Robert said, satisfied with the fear in Jake’s eyes.

The nightclub owner was still mesmerized with fear from Charlie’s words. Jake must have known that most people who received that kind of smile from Charlie O’Neil, saw it swiftly followed by brutal violence.

“We’ll up your take a bit, take into account the increase in risk you’ve encountered,” Robert continued.

Jake managed a nod in reply; he knew this wasn’t a negotiation.

Robert smiled and looked at Charlie. “There sorted then. That's fair, Charlie, isn’t it?”

Charlie didn’t look at his friend. He’d lost interest—his whole focus was somewhere else now. She was beautiful. Her hair was streaked with blonde and looked like something from an MTV video, as it bounced up and down when she moved to the music. The way her hair moved made it seem as though she had an eternal halo above her. She looked so alive as she joked around with her friends.

Charlie O’Neil couldn’t move his eyes form her. She was wearing a small red dress showing off all the strengths of her slight figure, and this was enough to keep the attention of most the men in the club. There was something in her bright dark eyes that prevented him from turning away.

Robert grabbed Charlie’s arm. “You alright Charlie?”

“Yeah, I’m just going onto the dance floor,” Charlie replied, already moving away.

“What?” Robert asked.

Charlie didn’t notice his friend’s surprise. He was in a trance, moving towards the girl on the dance floor.

“Mick,” Robert said, nodding to Mickey Dunne, who was stood a few feet away by a balcony, looking down onto the dance floor. Mickey had already clocked Charlie heading down the stairs and his guard dog like eyes were following him.

Charlie could feel Robert and Mickey watch him from above; he knew they were probably thinking he’d lost his mind, walking away from closing an important deal, but he didn’t care. He was still in the trance as he approached the woman, who was swinging her hips to the rhythm of the music. Charlie didn’t do dancing, he was used to watching from the side of a dance floor and letting women come to him. But this was different.

Charlie knew he had to make a move. She still had her back to him and he would have to take a chance before someone else did. He put his hand on her lower back gently, to get her attention. The woman turned around quickly, and for a moment it occurred to Charlie he might be about to get slapped. But instead she smiled.

“Yeah?”

Charlie couldn’t speak for a moment. The lady was beautiful. His eyes seemed to get lost in hers. “Have you got a light?”

He felt like grimacing the moment the words left his lips. It was such a lame line.

“I don’t smoke,” the woman smiled. She knew it was a pick up; for one of the few times in his life Charlie felt a flush of self-consciousness. “You shouldn’t either,” she continued. “It will bleeding kill you.”

“Well, it’s already too late for my ears after this lot,” Charlie replied.

“You don’t like Wild n’ Weird?” the woman looked horrified.

“Do they have to be so loud?” Charlie said.

He hoped that if she wasn’t interested she wouldn’t still be talking to him.

“I’m telling you, listening to these guys will do you more damage than any cigarette,” he continued

“Really?” the woman said, dancing closer to him. “I’m Jacqueline.”

“Charlie,” he replied and was about to move closer still to her, when something above him caught his eye. Robert and Mickey were leaning over the balcony cheering him on.

“Friends of yours?” Jacqueline asked.

“You’re joking,” Charlie said, shaking his head back at the two men. “Just look like a couple of mugs to me.”

She smiled.

She always looked so beautiful when she smiled.

Now, twenty years later, Charlie had been watching his wife for long enough. He started to move through the crowd. Various people called out to him, and put out their hands for him to shake. But he only had one thing on his mind—getting to Jackie.

She was dancing next to Dawn, clapping along to the band. Charlie slowly slipped his hands around her waist and gently pulled her close. “Do they still have to be so damn loud?”

“Charlie!” she said smiling and grabbed him.

“Happy birthday Princess,” Charlie said, lifting her off her feet and into his arms.

The night seemed to race by and, far too soon, he was pulling the car into their drive. It had been the best night of his life—no stress, nothing else to think about, just spending time with Jackie.

Charlie opened up the Jaguar's passenger door, to let his wife out. “M’ lady.”

Jackie smiled and stepped out of the car. “Charlie, you can be such a gentleman!”

Charlie smiled back at his wife. The night had been perfect. They’d forgotten all about Jackie’s illness for this one night, they had just smiled and laughed. In the last few weeks he’d almost forgotten how beautiful she was.

“I’ll be honest, I’m just trying to get you into bed.”

Jackie smiled. “They’re right what they say about you. You’re a bad man, Charlie O'Neil.”

“I love you Jackie O'Neil. You're my world. I can’t function without you,” Charlie said.

He had wanted to say this for months, ever since Jackie had been first taken in to hospital; but he had never been able to find the strength. He thought he would break down and show Jackie his weakness and it might break her too. But just right now, he didn’t care about those fears. He had Jackie with him and that was all that mattered. He felt a tear roll down his face. He had Jackie in his arms; she was his only weakness.

“It will be different from here, Jackie. We will beat this. We'll beat this together,” Charlie said, another thing he had been wishing he had the strength to tell his wife for months.

Jackie didn’t reply; she just kissed him.

Jackie suddenly pulled away looking behind Charlie and up the driveway.

“Charlie who’s that?”

Charlie turned to see a man walking up their drive; it was far too dark to make out who it could be.

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, still straining his eyes to see. “Wait here; it might be Mickey. He didn’t make it to the party—maybe something came up and he’s come to apologise.”

“That would be very sweet, but also very bad timing,” Jackie said giving Charlie a playful wink. “Get rid of him and get right back here.”

He smiled and nodded, then walked toward the approaching figure. As he got nearer he could see the man wasn’t Mickey Dunne; he wasn’t the same build and he seemed to being walking with a terrible limp. He couldn’t make out any of the guy’s features as he was wearing a hoodie, obscuring his whole face.

Charlie strained his eyes to see the image more clearly—and his heart stopped. The man was pointing a gun at him. Somewhere in the same instant he felt a mammoth pain in his chest and his eyes blurred from a sharp flash of light.

Before he knew what had happened, he was lying on the floor and Jackie was kneelt over him.

“It’s going to be alright Charlie,” Jackie said, holding him tight.

She seemed to keep talking, but he couldn’t hear her words. Jackie’s lips were moving but he couldn’t hear anything. She looked so beautiful.

The memories of the last few days started to dim in Charlie’s mind. It now all seemed irrelevant; all he’d ever really cared about was her.

He smiled.

She looked like she had done on the day they first met; maybe it was the make-up, but she no longer looked pale. She was beautiful, so beautiful, so full of life.

She looked like an angel.