Dangerous Promises (22 page)

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Authors: Roberta Kray

BOOK: Dangerous Promises
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Sadie pulled a face. He was the last person she wanted to talk to, but she would have to do it. She gave a nod and reached out her hand.

‘Okay, she’s here. I’ll pass you over.’

Sadie took a deep breath and put the receiver to her ear. ‘Hello, Stan.’

‘Sadie,’ he said gruffly, clearing his throat before proceeding. ‘I thought you might like to know that Eddie’s funeral is on Friday.’

‘Oh,’ she said.

‘In case you wanted to come.’

Sadie was surprised by the invitation. Her relationship with Eddie’s parents hadn’t exactly been cordial since the split. ‘Er…’

‘It’s up to you. We just thought you might like to pay your last respects.’

‘Yes, of course. I mean, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me there. You know with… I’m so sorry about Eddie and everything. It’s all been such a shock.’

‘It’s up to you,’ he said again. ‘St Luke’s in Kellston at ten o’clock.’

‘Thank you.’

He hung up without saying goodbye.

Sadie put the phone down and looked at Joel. ‘Eddie’s funeral,’ she said. ‘It’s on Friday.’

‘Are you going to go?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?’

‘Not if you don’t want to.’

‘I don’t know what I want,’ she said wearily.

Joel put an arm around her shoulder. ‘You don’t have to make up your mind straight away. Sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning. I don’t mind coming with you.’

‘You didn’t even know Eddie.’

‘You shouldn’t be on your own. Not for something like this.’

Sadie leaned her head against his chest, trying to figure out what to do. If she didn’t go, it would look like she was guilty, like she had something to hide. Perhaps that was why Stan had asked her. Perhaps it was some kind of test. But if she did go, how would she look him and Marcie in the eye? How would she stand there, lie through her teeth and claim she knew nothing about their son’s death?

‘How was work?’ Joel asked.

‘A bit weird. You know, everyone wanting to ask stuff but no one daring to.’

‘I guess they’re not sure what to say. It’ll get better. Just give it time; in a week or two they’ll have forgotten all about it.’ He held her close, kissing the top of her head. ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.’

But Sadie wasn’t so sure. She was a liar and a fraud. She was tied up in knots she couldn’t escape from. She had a gun in her bag along with three screwed-up pieces of paper, plans for yet another murder. How could it get better? If anything it was only going to get worse.

28

Wayne Gissing flicked on the light, a low-voltage bare bulb that hung by a tattered wire from the ceiling. As he went down the flight of steps into the cellar he was aware of a heavy sour odour, an unpleasant mixture of damp and mould and whatever darkness smelled of. When he reached the bottom he turned on another light, this one a little brighter, and looked around at the bare brick walls. There were two interconnecting rooms, both full of junk and covered with cobwebs.

The larger room, the one he was standing in, had once been used to store coal and the floor was still covered in the black gritty remains. It crunched underfoot as he walked around. Old, rusted tools lay in a heap on a table, along with bits of wood, nails, screws, tins of linseed, paintbrushes and bottles of turps. Crates were stacked against the wall, their contents long forgotten.

He went through to the second smaller, windowless space which contained some unused furniture – a couple of broken chairs, a lamp with no shade and a coffee table with a broken glass top – as well as a mildewed single mattress. There was no bulb in here and the heavy shadows gave the room a spooky feel.

Wayne peered into the dark corners, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Yes, it would do, he thought. There were some changes that would need to be made but otherwise it was pretty much perfect. He retreated into the main room and stared hard at the doorway between the two. He would have to find a way of disguising that, a set of shelves perhaps or some sort of false wall. The trouble was he didn’t have much time. The funeral was on Friday and it needed to be ready by then.

He went over to the table and picked up the mallet, weighing its heft in his hand. He thought of the damage he could do with it, of the soft crunch of wood against bone. He would like to cave in Terry Street’s skull; the bastard thought he could do whatever he liked. Maybe he had taken Eddie out in revenge for Vinnie Keane or maybe he hadn’t, but either way it was clear that he’d been involved in the killing.

Well, he wasn’t going to get away with it. Not this time. A soft hissing sound escaped from between Wayne’s teeth. For years Terry Street had been lording it over them all, running the East End as if it was his bloody right. This was where it stopped. He wasn’t going to be walked over any more. Already the whispers were going round, rumours that Terry had decided to teach the Gissings a lesson. Street was making him look like a mug and he’d had enough of it.

His mother’s voice came from the top of the steps. ‘Wayne? Wayne, are you down there?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking for something.’

‘Looking for what?’

Wayne raised his eyes to the ceiling. His mum, he knew, would not come down the steps. She hated the cellar. She said it made the hairs on the back of her arms stand on end. ‘A screwdriver,’ he said. ‘The one at the yard’s gone missing.’

‘Well, wipe your feet when you come back up. Don’t go tramping that coal dust all over the kitchen floor.’

‘I won’t.’

‘I’ll see you later then. I’m going down the Bell for a drink with Colleen.’

‘Yeah, see you later.’

Wayne took one last look round before climbing the steps again. Kelly was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a fag and drinking from a bottle of lager. He glanced towards the living room and lowered his voice. ‘She gone?’

‘Yeah, it’s all clear.’

He went to the fridge, got himself a beer and flipped off the cap. ‘I reckon it’ll do,’ he said, sitting down opposite to her. ‘Needs a bit of work but nothing I can’t manage.’

‘I dunno. What about the filth? They’re going to be searching for her.’

‘They can search all they like.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to take her to the yard?’

‘That’ll be the first place Stone will look.’

‘And this’ll be the second,’ Kelly said.

‘He might look, but he ain’t gonna find her.’ He saw the doubt on her face and said, ‘You want to find out what happened to Eddie, don’t you? Or do you just want the bitch to get away with it?’

Kelly scowled at him. ‘’Course I don’t. But Mum’s going to go ape. She won’t have it, Wayne.’

‘Well, it’s not her bleedin’ house, is it? And anyway what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. We just need to make sure she’s out when we bring the tart here.’

‘And then what?’

‘And then we get the murderous cow to admit what she did.’ Wayne had big plans when it came to Sadie Wise. If she was being shagged by Nathan Stone – and all the evidence pointed in that direction – then the guy should pay through the nose to get her back safely. He was thinking that twenty grand would be a fair price. Yeah, twenty grand to get the whore back and for Wayne to keep shtum about who murdered Eddie Wise.

‘And then what?’

‘Whatever you want. It’s down to you. Eddie was your man; you can decide what to do with her.’

She took a long drag on her cigarette and gazed at him through narrowed eyes. ‘You mean it? Anything?’

‘It’s your call, Kel.’

Kelly Gissing settled back in her chair and gave a nod. ‘That sounds fair enough.’

29

Petra paid for the two gin and tonics, picked up the glasses and carried them over to a table in the corner. The Bell was quiet tonight; it was a Monday evening and everyone had spent their cash over the weekend. Still, it felt nice to be in her old local again, to see the familiar walls and hear the East End voices.

‘Ta, love.’ Colleen raised her glass. ‘It’s good to have you back.’

‘It’s good to be back.’

‘Shame about your Kelly, though. Poor kid. How’s she bearing up?’

‘Oh, so-so. It’ll take her a while, I suppose. You don’t get over something like that in a hurry.’

Colleen shifted her bulk on the chair, making herself more comfortable. She’d put on a fair bit of weight since Petra had last seen her and now with her large bosom, bright red cheeks and flowery dress she resembled one of those ladies in the saucy postcards they sold down at the front in Bournemouth. ‘And what about your Roy? What does he think of you coming back?’

Petra gave a snort. ‘He ain’t my Roy no more and I don’t give a damn what he thinks. Not much he can do about it, is there? Not when my Kelly says she wants me here.’

‘You should never have left, love. Not in my opinion. That house was as much yours as it was his. I couldn’t stand it seeing some other woman living under my roof. It’s not right, not right at all.’

Petra nodded furiously. It was a relief to have someone she could share her anger and frustration with. Wayne wasn’t interested, and she couldn’t burden Kelly with it all. ‘Especially that little trollop. You should see the state of her. She don’t get up ’til lunchtime and then she swans around in her dressing gown, tits hanging out for all the world to see.’

‘Well, she’s a prize bitch that one. And she’ll lead Roy a merry dance, mark my words. That type always do.’

Petra, eager for some dirt on the woman who’d replaced her, leaned forward with a gleam in her eye. ‘Why? Have you heard something?’

Colleen gave a shrug of her heavy shoulders. ‘You only have to look her, darlin’. She won’t last. She’s the type who’s always around for the weddings, never the funerals.’ Then, aware of what she’d just said, she quickly patted Petra on the hand. ‘Oh, sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking. I forgot about Eddie. I didn’t —’

‘I know. Don’t worry about it. It’s on Friday as it happens, the funeral I mean. Ten o’clock at St Luke’s in Kellston.’

‘Your Kelly’s going to be glad to have it over and done with. I know I was when my Jack passed.’

‘It’s not the same, though, is it?’

‘How do you figure that?’

Petra grinned at her friend. ‘My Kelly thinks she’s lost the love of her life whereas you couldn’t stand your Jack.’

Colleen sniggered. ‘Well, that’s true enough. He was one nasty bastard and I wasn’t sorry to see him six foot under. The happiest day of my life was when the old bugger dropped dead. They’re all sweet as honey until they get that ring on your finger and then they show their true colours. Ain’t one of them worth a jot. Ain’t a man in the world worth breaking your heart over.’

‘You’d never think about getting hitched again then?’

‘Not in a million years. I’ve got my kids and my grandkids and they’re all I need. I mean, Jesus, the dog’s better company than that old sod ever was.’ Colleen took a slurp of the gin and licked her lips. ‘No, there’s no way I’d ever walk down that road again. I’d rather stab out my eyes with red-hot needles.’

‘You’ve got a point. I’d be happier doing time than living with Roy.’ Petra looked around the pub and sighed. ‘Although I do miss London. Bournemouth’s nice enough but it’s not home, if you know what I mean. I’ve been thinking of moving back.’

‘You should. It hasn’t been the same without you. You could sell your place and get a nice little flat.’

Petra wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, I don’t fancy some poky little flat. I like a bit of room to breathe. To be honest, I just want my old house back. That’s not too much to ask, is it?’ She heaved out a sigh. ‘Trouble is, I’ve got to get rid of that tart first.’

‘She ain’t gonna leave without a fight.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘I mean, she’s on to a good thing, free board and lodgings and cash coming from the yard. She can do what she likes so long as Roy don’t get to hear about it. Course you could just kick her out and change the locks but I reckon that wouldn’t go down too well. How about your Wayne? Couldn’t he help you out?’

‘Fat chance. She’s got him wound round her little finger, same way she has Roy. And our Kelly’s in no fit state to do anything. No, I’ll just bide my time and see what happens. You never know what’s round the corner.’

‘God will provide,’ said Colleen.

‘Well, that would be a first. He ain’t done much for me up to now so I won’t hold me breath.’

The two women stayed chatting until closing time when they left the warmth of the pub, braved the bitter wind and walked together to the corner of Raleigh Road where they went their separate ways. It was almost midnight by the time Petra got to the house, unlocked the door and went inside. She could hear the television and the sound of voices as she hung up her coat in the hallway.

In the living room, she was met with a cosy family scene. Wayne was sprawled in an armchair, and Kelly was curled up on the sofa with her head against Sharon’s shoulder. Petra felt a surge of anger seeing her daughter so close to that filthy little tart. It got under her skin. It really rankled. If anyone was going to comfort her daughter, it should be her.

‘You all right, love?’ Petra asked pointedly.

Kelly raised her eyes and gave a nod. ‘How’s Colleen?’

‘Same as always. She sends her best.’

‘We were just talking about the funeral.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘We thought we’d go in Sharon’s car. There’ll be more room for us all.’

Petra’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown. She glared at the bitch before returning her gaze to Kelly. ‘She’s not coming.’

‘Of course she is.’

‘No way.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not.’

Sharon looked from one to the other. ‘Jesus, I am here, you know.’

‘Worst luck,’ snarled Petra. ‘This is a family funeral and you ain’t family. So just keep your nose out of it, huh?’

Sharon’s upper lip curled. ‘It ain’t up to you who goes to Eddie’s funeral or not. You can’t say one way or the other. If Kelly wants me to go, I’ll go, and that’s the end of it.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that.’

‘Just grow up, Petra. This ain’t about you. Think about your daughter for once.’

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