The Business (38 page)

As she watched the commotion that erupted around her, Kenny came out of the bedroom and stood beside her, watching with wide eyes as Basil shut the front door once more, locked it firmly, and then stormed into the lounge where Imelda and Jed were standing like stuffed dummies, their faces white and frightened.

Jordanna noticed that neither of them even attempted to ask what they were being punished for. But a punishment was the only reason for something like this, was the only rational explanation for such a situation. As the baseball bat crunched heavily against her mother’s head, Jordanna closed her eyes tightly and, pulling her little brother behind her, she went back inside the foetid-smelling bedroom they shared. She shut the door quietly, then proceeded to push anything she could move in front of it. She dragged the old dressing table with its water-stained mirrors and scuffed surfaces across the room, using all of her strength to push it in front of the door. She was determined to keep trouble out of this bedroom, whatever her mother had managed to cause this time. After all, she knew that there was a good chance they could be next in line for a beating.

Jordanna then prayed out loud that her brother would be spared from harm. She had already experienced so much in her little life, but she was determined that Kenny Boy would not have to be a part of this. Imelda, her mother, seemed to court danger, seemed to attract violence and it was not fair that they were caught up in her crossfire. She knew how dangerous her mother’s life could be, knew how easy it was to be caught up in the lunacy that surrounded her. Jordanna had been dragged into a nightmare once before and she was terrified of it happening to her again.

She could hear screams of pain and fear, hear the dull thudding sound of the baseball bat as it smashed against bone and skin. She heard the commotion of her mother and Jed trying to escape the fury of their attackers.

She could hear the absolute violence of the attack, the sounds of the beating, the terror and the anger. She knew that fists and feet were involved and also that it was not like anything they had experienced before. Jordanna knew that this was about something very serious, and very dangerous. The whole place was drenched with the stench of hatred and revenge.

She held on to her little brother, burying his face into her body as she tried to drown out the noise of the fracas. Her eyes were wide with fear, and they were almost glued to the door as she waited to see if the men involved were going to come after them, were going to make sure they did not have any kind of tale to tell about what had occurred this night. She knew that if this was as serious as it sounded, Kenny and herself were living on borrowed time.

Kenny was distraught now, sobbing with fear, terrified at the noises he could hear coming from behind their closed door. He had finally realised, even as little as he was, that this was a very serious situation, and that they were both in real danger. For the first time in his life, he understood how precarious their lives were when in the care of their mother. He had just realised how dangerous and perilous life could be, thanks to Imelda’s lifestyle and her complete disregard for her own children’s well-being or safety. Jordanna knew exactly how her brother felt, she had been through the same thing herself many times.

As she heard her mother howling in pain, heard the cursing and threats from Basil and his cohorts, Jordanna grabbed her brother roughly and forced him underneath the bed that they shared, pushing him against the wall, making sure he was as far away from the danger as was physically possible. She then lay beside him, holding him tightly against her and, whimpering in fear, she waited for Basil and his cronies to come for them as well.

Jordanna could taste the fright that had enveloped them, could feel the coldness of their terror and knew that Kenny would not be able to forget what had happened, knew that this time the situation would stay in his mind for a long time to come. She also realised that Imelda would finally lose the power she had over her beloved son, and Jordanna knew that could only be a good thing for all concerned. It would do Kenny the world of good to see his mother for what she really was. Jordanna knew that the fracas that was occurring this night would in effect make Kenny realise that they could never really be safe around Imelda, he would finally be able to understand that she was bad news, that when they were with her, they were always going to be exposed to this kind of violence.

As Jordanna lay beneath the bed, she could smell the filth that was ingrained in the carpet and feel the stickiness of her mother’s life. She knew she was lying on years of dirt, stale urine from her mother and her cronies, when they had been so wasted they had not even been capable of using the bathroom, and she felt the loneliness of neglect. She knew how it felt to be dismissed by the person who should have loved you more than anyone, who had grown you from a seed, had kept you safe inside them for nine long months. She knew the loneliness of being ignored, of being invisible to the one person who should have been the mainstay of your life. She was due to start school soon, and she knew she was already more educated than anyone of her age had a right to be. She had not had a choice, she had spent her whole life seeing how the land lay, judging how best to act around her mother, and her mother’s friends. She had sussed out, as a babe in arms, that her mother was not someone you antagonised. She hoped that if they both survived this, they would be allowed to stay at their granny’s without having to keep on coming to their mother’s house all the time. Jordanna knew that school would curtail her visits, and she hoped that her absence would curtail poor Kenny Boy’s as well.

Kenny was shaking in abject terror, he was shivering with fear and shock, the sounds of his mother’s beating were loud and Jordanna knew that her screams would stay with him for a long time after this was all finally over. She knew he could hear Imelda’s voice as she begged for mercy, knew he could hear Basil’s voice as he threatened and accused Imelda of all sorts. As he swore at her, called her names, he sounded so different to the man they had always known. The man who had been a friend to them all. It made this whole thing even more horrific because Basil was one of the only people who had ever been kind to them, and now he was the enemy. He was what was frightening them both out of their wits, he had become their biggest fear. If he decided to come after them, they were helpless and she knew that; they were only babies. Babies who were lying under a bed, terrified out of their minds, who already knew that life could be harsh, frightening and perilous. They clung tightly to each other and Jordanna whispered quietly into her brother’s ear, telling him to keep silent so as not to draw any attention to them. She held him in her arms and calmed him with her words and with her love. She knew that he was shrewd enough to understand that they were not to advertise their presence in any way.

She wondered briefly if, when it all went quiet, her mother would be dead.

Basil was mortified at what he had done; he was also aware that he had been left with no other choice, Imelda had forced him into a corner. She had known that her actions would have had dire consequences. She was a bloody pulp, and that did not bother him. It was Jed, he was dying and he knew it. He was still trying to talk, trying to beg for his life. His lips were smashed beyond recognition, as was his face, but they were still moving, talking, he was still trying to justify his behaviour.

As the men looked at their prey without any kind of feelings whatsoever, Basil knew that he had stepped over the line. He was now blooded; he had said he was going to pay her out for her treachery, and he had done it.

He saw Imelda’s eyes flicker, was amazed at his feeling; he wanted to finish her off. He felt the urge to start kicking her again, he wanted to wipe her off the face of the earth.

‘Are you coming?’

Basil shook his head slowly. ‘You lot go. I have something to do, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

The men left quietly. They were not in a rush, they knew that no one was going to be coming here this night. That had been arranged beforehand. It had all been put in place and, if you planned well, you were pretty much guaranteed an easy shoot. It cost, but it was worth the initial lay-out. No one wanted a capture, especially not for a piece of shit like Imelda.

Basil sat down on the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted. He knew that Imelda would come away from this with her life intact, she was as strong as a fucking ox. But he knew that was for the best, he knew that he wanted her to remember what he had done to her. He wanted her to look at the scars every day, and be reminded of what she had done. He wanted her to remember that he had been the cause of them, had been the instigator of her demise. And now he would make sure that she never worked again, unless it was on the pavement.

She had been so good at running things; she was a cunt, if she had been content with her lot, she would have been under his protection for life, and on a decent earn. Now she was finished, she was destroyed, in more ways than one.

Imelda Dooley looked like a bloody lump of meat, there was nothing to remind anyone of how lovely she had been. She would heal, and she would get back on her feet, but she would never again look in the mirror and see a beauty, see a looker. She would have to mourn the good looks she had taken for granted all her life, She would finally know what it was like to have to rely on her personality and not her looks. Ergo, she was finished.

Basil heard Mary and Michael Hannon coming in the flat before he saw them. Mary stood in the doorway, her hand clutched over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. Michael was behind her, looking at the little tableau without any kind of expression on his face. He was not about to show his hand, and Basil respected that. Looking at Mary he said quietly, ‘You knew the score and you knew that this was on the cards.’

Mary was looking at the carnage that had once been her daughter, who was only recognisable by her clothes. What was left of them anyway. She was a bloody pulp. She was still breathing but it was loud and laboured, it sounded raspy and painful, and she was sorry that it didn’t move her in any way. She was sorry that she did not feel in the least bit protective of her child. She had come here through instinct, but not for Imelda; for her grandchildren.

‘Ain’t you got nothing to say, Michael? I waited for you both. I wanted to see you here while it was still new. Fresh. So, what have you got to say for yourself ?’

Michael Hannon stared warily at Basil, he had not expected this at all. He had known it would all come out on top, but not like this. Imelda and Jed had been beaten and tortured, they had known exactly what was happening to them, and why it was happening to them, no doubt. He knew that there would not be any kind of come-back. But looking round this room, at the blood splatters on the walls, and the destruction of the faces, he knew that this was a completely different Basil from the one he had known all these years.

The stench of blood was heavy in the room and Basil stood up, stretching as if he was tired out and ready for his bed. He said to Mary, ‘The kids are in the bedroom. I don’t know how much they heard, or how much they guessed, but they need to be taken away from here.’

Basil walked to the door, then turning around, he looked at Michael Hannon and said in a low and penetrating voice, ‘You looked down your fucking nose at me for years because of my business, but I could buy and sell you, boy. You blanked me over and over again, until it finally clicked, until you finally realised that this business was worth fucking fortunes. Then you wanted an in. You saw that Bailey was earning off the business, and you demanded your fucking slice from it. Well, you see her down there, and that cunt she thought would protect her from the likes of me; that is my message to anyone who tries to mug me off. I ain’t fucking swallowing it any more.’

Basil left then, and Mary stood still, her hand still covering her mouth, and she said nothing. Neither did Michael Hannon.

Then Mary went to the bedroom, gathered up her grandchildren, and walked away from her daughter and her daughter’s excuse for a life without a backward glance.

It was over.

 

Finally over.

Imelda was finished.

Chapter Seventeen

 

Imelda was tired, and she looked it.

She had recently been released from prison, and she had the yellowish pallor that was a dead giveaway to anyone in the know. She had been in and out of prison over the years. She had also moved about quite frequently, disappearing for months on end and then turning up again in her old haunts, acting as if she had never been gone. She was a real loner; as always, she only really needed her own company. She still liked her life in many respects, even though she knew it was not a life most people would want for themselves. But it suited her, suited her personality.

It was a really hot day and Imelda sat in the pub garden and enjoyed her drink. She sipped it slowly, savouring it; she was low on funds, and her need to score was uppermost in her mind. She knew that she was luckier than most of the people in her position; she had no one to lie to, no one to consider at all. She preferred it that way, it suited her. For most people being alone spelt failure; to her it just guaranteed contentment and the knowledge that she was able to do what she wanted, when she wanted, with who she wanted.

Imelda was watching the world go by, something she had acquired the knack of many years before. Like most junkies she had no interest in the world itself, the actual economics of the world were beyond her interest. For example, if the four-minute warning ever came, heralding a nuclear war, she would only be interested in getting herself an armful, it was her
only
interest. Her mind would then become focused on whether she would be able to walk into any chemist she wanted to and take what she needed, thanks to the decimation of the world and mankind. It was a junkie’s dream. The world itself and the people who inhabited it were so far beneath her interest that she would never even consider their welfare over her own.