Taken (8 page)

‘Hello?’

Casey didn’t speak for a moment but held her breath, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. The silence on the phone caused the person on the other end to repeat their question.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello Josh.’

‘Casey! Oh god it’s good to hear from you. How are you? Why haven’t you called before?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘If it wasn’t for the postcard you sent me I wouldn’t have known you were alive, eighteen months is a long time, Cass. Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘I’m doing okay. I’ve been to a meeting.’

‘I’m glad. Wow, sorry it’s just such a shock to hear from you. Where are you?’

‘In London.’

There was an awkward pause before Casey heard Josh tentatively speak again.

‘Have you done anything about it yet? About … well you know.’

‘No not yet. Funny, I’ve waited all this time but now I can’t quite find the courage to go.’

‘Be careful Cass; I don’t want you to get disappointed … or hurt. It was so long ago, they might not even live there now. I don’t think you should Cass. Maybe you should let sleeping dogs lie.’

‘Anyone would think you don’t want me to find him.’

‘It’s not that … It’s just …’ Josh trailed off and Casey spoke impatiently wanting to find out what he was going to say.

‘Just what?’

‘Nothing, listen forget I said anything.’

‘I know you’re worried but for all the tourists and the craziness Soho is a tight-knit community; if they’re not there, I’m sure someone will remember them and even know where they’ve gone.’

Casey listened to Josh breathe on the other end of the phone. She knew him well, but then she should do; after all, she was married to him. She knew his silence was that of a person with a difference of opinion, but he was too diplomatic – or too sensible – to say anything.

They’d met at a wedding but it hadn’t been love at first sight; if she were truthful she hadn’t thought much about him at all. They’d spent the evening sitting next to each other in a huge draughty hall as they toasted the happy couple who she knew through her cousin. Josh had talked about his work and asked her polite questions which she gave the shortest of answers to. She’d been civil but aloof, but Josh had persisted.

‘Would you like to dance?’

She hadn’t, but she’d been unable to think of a good excuse before he’d got up and put out his hand for her to take. Even though it’d been their first dance, Casey couldn’t recall what song had been played – she’d stopped being sentimental the day she’d given birth; there was no room in her heart for it. What she had felt was a feeling of safety as he held her in his arms. For the first time in her life she’d felt secure. Three weeks later he’d asked her to marry him and she’d not hesitated in saying yes, hoping saying, ‘I do’ would fix the gaping hole in her heart and fill the void from losing her child.

‘Casey? Are you listening? I think you should be careful.’

Josh interrupted her thoughts and she returned her focus to the conversation on the phone.

‘Thanks for your concern; I’ll be fine.’

She could hear the tightness in her voice although she didn’t mean it to be there; she had no quarrel with Josh; he’d done nothing wrong. He was a kind, warm, sensitive man who’d tried to look after her and heal her wounds. She shouldn’t have married him and he was better off without her.

‘Bye Josh.’

‘Keep in touch, Cass, and think about what I said.’

Casey clicked off the phone and was suddenly startled by a man standing in front of her.

‘Can I get you another one; or maybe something stronger?’

Casey quickly wiped away her tears which seemed to spring to her eyes all too easily these days for her liking; she felt embarrassed being caught at a vulnerable moment.

Her answer was delayed as she looked at the tall well-built man with a wind-tanned complexion, dark brown hair with slices of grey running through it and intense green eyes. He was undoubtedly very handsome. The prospect of something stronger than her lukewarm coffee was also tempting, but she declined the offer.

‘My name’s Vaughn by the way.’

‘Casey.’

She gave him a small smile and Vaughn was knocked sideways by her beauty.

‘Did you manage to get in safely the other night?’

Vaughn Sadler watched as a blank expression came over her face. It was still niggling away at him – he was positive he knew Casey from somewhere, but hopefully it’d come to him.

He could tell she had no idea what he was talking about and he contemplated explaining how he’d helped her pick up her keys, but quickly he decided against it, in case the boy Alfie had given a seeing to had opened his mouth and talked to the hospital. That was of course if he was still alive.

If the filth
were
sniffing around, it would be foolhardy of Vaughn to admit he’d been anywhere near the building. He didn’t want to get fingered for something he didn’t do; and if he did get collared, it wasn’t as if he’d squeal on Alfie. With his form, they’d throw the book at him before you could say Jack The Hat McVitie.

‘Let me get you another coffee then.’ Casey nodded and wished she hadn’t given up smoking.

Whispers Comedy Club was starting to get busy by the time Casey and Vaughn had arrived. They’d talked for over an hour, with neither one of them divulging anything personal.

‘Tell me about yourself; I’m intrigued why a young lady like you is on her own.’

‘There’s nothing really to tell; and I’m not that young. What about you?’

‘Oh, I lead a very dull life.’

It was apparent to both of them that they were each hiding things but neither said anything, and neither pushed any further.

Alfie watched Vaughn chatting away from the stool at the bar; he recognised she was the woman who’d been looking at the board outside the club the other day. He never forgot a face; especially one that had distracted him from his show-night nerves. She was laughing, obviously enjoying the attention of his friend, and for some reason it fucked him off no end that Vaughn had beaten him to it. Not that he minded having his cast-offs – he slept with hookers most nights, so second-hand pussy wasn’t a problem for him – but it rankled his ego.

On the way across to join them, Alfie grabbed a bottle of cheap house red from behind the bar; if her pussy was already taken for tonight, he wasn’t going to bother breaking open a bottle of the expensive stuff, though from what Alfie could make out, so far she’d stuck to drinking water.

‘Vaughn!’ Alfie slapped Vaughn hard on his back, a little harder than usual; something which wasn’t missed by his friend.

‘Alfie; let me introduce my new friend, Casey. Casey, this is the friend I was telling you about who owns the club.’

Alfie smiled tightly as Vaughn quickly turned his attention back to Casey.

She waved as way of a greeting and Alfie sat down to join them to watch the show. It was gong night at Whispers, the most popular night of the week, and Alfie could feel the whole club buzzing with anticipation. Would-be comedians, old timers and members of the public had three minutes each to get on stage and keep the crowd laughing. Members of the audience were given red cards on entering the club, and if for any reason they found the person on stage unfunny or just took a dislike to them, they could lift up their card; three red cards in the air and the master of ceremonies would bang the gong, much to the crowd’s amusement.

Since he’d been running gong night, Alfie had seen very few people actually get through the three minutes, and the drunker the crowd got, the less chance anyone had of getting to the end; unless of course they were him. Not one card had ever gone up when he took to the stage on gong night – no one dared.

‘So are we going to get you up on stage tonight, Casey?’

‘I think I’d need something stronger than spring water if I was going up there.’

Casey smiled at Alfie, who gave her a discreet wink: another indiscretion which didn’t go unnoticed by Vaughn. The lights went down and the spot went up as the master of ceremonies amused the crowd with his opening set.

‘Ladies and gentlemen put your hands together for our first victim … I mean contestant.’

From the left hand of the stage, Casey watched a nervous looking man walk towards the mike; before he’d had the chance to even get there, three red cards went up one by one, much to the hilarity of the crowd. The master of ceremonies loudly rang the gong, to the annoyance of the comedian as he turned to leave the stage with the sound system playing ‘Hit the Road Jack’.

Casey roared with laughter, enjoying the atmosphere of the club along with everyone else. As the next anxious contestant walked on the stage, a loud commotion was heard at the back of the club, and pandemonium quickly spread through the audience. The clubbers started to scream and run towards the emergency exit as a handful of men came charging in, brandishing various weapons. A slap to the side of Casey’s head sent her flying backwards off her chair. She stood up to run but her path was blocked by a small fat man, who grabbed her and tried to drag her towards the back room – but his grip wasn’t tight enough and he let go, giving Casey the opportunity to run through a door marked ‘Staff Only’.

The tallest of the men jumped on top of Alfie and yelled angrily as another grabbed hold of his hair, bringing down a cosh and smashing it into his face; it took Vaughn only a nanosecond and a resigned sigh to get into action.

‘Lock the fucking doors!’ Vaughn boomed out his order, simultaneously smashing the bottle of red on the side of the table, and lunged across to the man who was holding a dazed Alfie in a neck lock.

Vaughn drove the jagged bottle into the man’s face, not as hard as he could, unwilling to do more than was necessary. The man fell to the floor, releasing Alfie as he dropped on his knees.

Vaughn stepped back, not wanting to continue with the violence now all Alfie’s men had run to step in to get things under control. Managing to recover, Alfie bellowed loudly as his foot pounded a dark-haired man on the floor.

‘You motherfucking cunt. Who sent you?’

The man didn’t answer and Alfie bent down, grabbing hold of the man’s arm and twisting it round as the bone threatened to snap at the shoulder.

‘You’ve got some brass fucking neck coming into my fucking club. Who sent you?’

‘Bellingham.’

‘Bellingham?’

‘Jake’s uncle, he’s a face from East Ham – he heard what you did to his nephew.’

Alfie would’ve laughed if his face hadn’t been hurting so much and his front veneer wasn’t broken. He’d been shitting himself when the men came in; he’d thought it was the Russians after the mess-up with the heroin last month, or even the Davidson brothers from Stratford, who were fucked off with him over the fake credit cards he’d been selling on their turf. But Jake’s uncle? It was fucking laughable.

‘Give Bellingham a message; tell him Alfie Jennings says his nephew’s a useless cunt and if he ever sends his men to my patch again, I’ll come looking for him and he won’t be as lucky as his nephew was.’

Alfie paused whilst he touched his nose, wincing at the pain. He turned his attention back to the man. ‘I want you to take him something back for me.’

Alfie put his hand into his back pocket and pulled out the pliers he always carried. He nodded to two of his men who came forward and pulled the man up from the fall. One held him up and the other prised open his mouth, leaving Alfie to teach him a lesson the Jennings way. ‘Now say “ah”.’

As Vaughn turned away from the violence, a thought struck him.

Where’s Casey?

Casey ran through the back room hoping to find a way out. The exit door was locked but there was another door slightly ajar, and she could see a flight of stairs behind it. Rather than stay in the back room or head back into the chaos, she decided it’d be safer to head up the stairs.

At the top, Casey saw crates of wine and boxes stacked up neatly against the wall. She walked cautiously down the corridor hoping to find one of the doors open and a room she could wait in. The first door she tried was locked but the second opened and led to a storeroom full of large boxes. Almost unconsciously, Casey continued to look around. There were televisions, computers, Blu-ray players, iPods and iPhones, all boxed, plus a huge selection of Romeo y Julieta cigars.

There was a door at the back and Casey, letting her more inquisitive side take over, quickly opened it to see what was behind it. It was a tiny bathroom.

About to walk out of the storeroom, Casey heard voices coming down the corridor. She felt panic rise within her and she stayed motionless and waited for the voices to go past.

The voices didn’t pass. Casey could hear them directly on the other side of the door. She saw the handle turning and immediately crouched down behind the largest box, hoping whoever it was wasn’t coming in to take the plasma TV she’d just hidden behind.

The voices Casey heard were foreign. One belonged to a man and the other was female. Casey peeked around the box. She got a glimpse of the man, and saw that there were two women with him, not one as she first thought.

She continued to watch, terrified she might make a noise. She saw the man push one of the women hard in the back as he opened the door to the bathroom. The woman let out a tiny squeal and was given another shove to stop her cry. Casey felt as if she should be doing something but she didn’t know what, so she stayed hidden and watched as the man leaned on the doorway of the bathroom, not letting the women have any privacy as they used the toilet.

Crouching behind the box, Casey noticed the women were dressed in tracksuit bottoms and thin short-sleeved tops and their feet were bare. As they were coming out of the bathroom, the light was bright enough for her to see the smaller woman’s arm was covered in bruising and marks. The man opened the door to the storeroom, leading the women out behind him. Casey listened to the footsteps disappearing down the corridor.

In the darkness of the tiny storeroom Casey could feel her whole body shaking; she was terrified and she knew she couldn’t be caught hiding. She took some deep breaths to try to calm her racing heart and listened to see if she could hear anybody else coming. It was all quiet and she decided it was probably safe to go back downstairs.