Dishonour (33 page)

It was a couple of hours later before Yvonne Scott was cautioned and released from the police station in Savile Row. The sun was high in the sky and Yvonne was beyond the stage of being tired. She walked slowly back towards Soho, angry at herself for messing up. Her mind was racing. How was she supposed to pay Johno his rent now? He wouldn’t think twice of throwing them out on the street and then where would they be? The idea of sleeping rough was bad enough, but the idea of telling Laila, who she’d promised to look after, was ten times worse.

Up in the walkway, Yvonne walked straight into the back room where she knew Laila would be. She froze as she saw her friend. ‘Oh my God Laila, what happened?’

She ran over to her, touching Laila’s swollen lip.

‘Who did this to you?’

Laila shook her head as Yvonne held her, rocking her gently. ‘Tell me? I’ll deal with them, or maybe we can get Johno to.’

With big wide eyes, Laila spoke. ‘It
was
Johno.’

‘Why? Why did he do it?’

‘The job you were supposed to do, I had to do it instead.’

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry Laila.’

Laila shook her head, determined to be strong for her friend. ‘No, it’s not your fault. I went to the club with Johno, everything seemed fine and then it all went wrong.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t say anything, only my name.’

‘You didn’t say your
real
name, did you?’

Laila smiled warmly at Yvonne, touched by how worried she was. She knew she couldn’t afford to be traced, and it was for this reason they could only work for cash, fearing that all it would take was a search of a police computer by Baz to find them. And the idea of him coming to look for her was not only terrifying but never far away from Laila’s thoughts.

‘Of course I didn’t say my name; even I’m not that naive.’

‘Who was he?’

‘I don’t know. It was strange though Yvie …’

Before she could finish her sentence, Johno stormed in. ‘Where the fuck were you?’ he shouted, pushing Laila out of the way. ‘I had to take
her
along instead. A fucking disaster.’

‘Please, not now Johno.’

Johno Porter turned red with rage. He pulled Yvonne up by her hair, shaking her at the same time.

‘Don’t “not now” me! I was looking for you. You were supposed to do this job and little Miss No Sex over there became little Miss Big Mouth and put a bomb under the whole evening. Fucked everything up. I want to know what
you
were doing.’

‘Leave her alone,’ Laila shouted as she ran up to Johno, trying to pull his hands off Yvonne’s hair. A quick backhand had her sprawling across the floor. Yvonne bit down on Johno’s hand to distract him from going after Laila. He let go with a yell.

‘You cunt.’

Johno held his hand as Yvonne grabbed Laila, shoving her out of the door, out of harm’s way.

Yvonne closed the door and turned to Johno who had recovered and was steaming towards her, fist clenched.

‘I wasn’t doing anything. You want the truth; I got mugged. Ended up in A&E with a slight concussion.’

Johno’s fist froze in the air. He pushed his nose to Yvonne’s. ‘If you’re lying to me …’

‘I’m not, I swear on me nan’s grave. God rest her soul. I’m really sorry for letting you down.’

Johno let Yvonne go, moving back to sit down on the arm of the couch.

‘Don’t think I’m just letting this go; Janie messed up big time.’

Yvonne raised her eyebrows, amazed. ‘Who is this guy?’

‘Remind me, when did whores turn into Jeremy Paxman? Stop asking questions. Anyway, I need my rent.’

‘Can you wait Johno?’

‘No, I want it now.’

‘I haven’t got it. When I was mugged they took my purse.’

Johno raised his voice again, flinging all the things on top of the table on to the floor. ‘You’ve lost my fucking rent money? You’re taking the piss now Yvonne. I want my money and I want it now. You’ve got till tomorrow night.’

‘What a flipping disaster.’ Tasha glared at her sister as they stood outside Ray-Ray’s locked bedroom door.

‘And you saying that is helping how, Linda?’

‘I’m just saying.’

Tasha gritted her teeth; she was furious with herself for letting Freddie go ahead with the party. She’d known it was a bad idea. ‘Then don’t. Flipping don’t.’

Tasha knocked on the door again, pressing her head, hoping she’d hear something, even a stir coming from inside. ‘Baby, answer the door. Honey, tell me what happened.’ There was nothing. No reply. No sound at all.

Freddie walked along the long marbled corridor towards the two women. ‘Johno told me what happened. I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Yes, Tash, sorry. I thought it would be good for him. I was only trying to make him happy. I messed up and I’m gutted.’

Tasha looked at her husband. This wasn’t the Freddie she knew. There was a softness to him; a softness she hadn’t seen for a long time, maybe even since before they were married. Her defence went down slightly. ‘I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should’ve gone along to the party.’

‘He’s a big boy and he’ll come round. Our son’s a fighter, he always was, takes after his mum I reckon.’ Freddie winked at Tasha and Linda smiled to herself, watching the exchange between them.

‘Do you want me to try Tash? See if he’ll talk to me?’

‘Would you?’

‘Of course.’ Freddie reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled-up bundle of fifty-pound notes. He placed it in Tasha’s hand.

‘Why don’t you and Lind go and treat yourself, buy yourself something nice? Do what women do.’

‘I don’t know, maybe I should stay here.’

Linda interjected. ‘Er, hello? You may not know, but I bleeding do. I’m never one to turn me nose up at splashing the cash. Come on girl, they’ll be fine. Leave them to it.’ Tash smiled as Linda scurried off. She went to follow her but was pulled back by Freddie.

‘Tash …’ Freddie faltered, unable to say what he felt. Instead he smiled, bent down his six foot three frame and kissed Tasha on the top of her head.

‘Ray-Ray, open the door mate. Your mum’s gone.’ There was still no sound. Freddie knocked again blowing his cheeks out in exasperation. He took a quick glance down the corridor making sure Tasha had left. Pulling out a gun from his jacket pocket, he aimed at the lock, fired and blew the door open. Worked every time.

‘Only me, son.’ Freddie walked into the bedroom, smirking, feeling pretty pleased with himself. Ray-Ray got off his bed.

‘Why the hell did you have to shoot the damn door off?’

‘You weren’t going to open it were you?’

‘Get out Dad.’

Freddie pleaded with him. ‘Please son.’

Angrily, Ray-Ray shouted at his dad. ‘Is that what you think of me? Do you think the only way for me to get a woman is to pay them?’

‘It wasn’t like that son.’

‘Well, what was it like? Tell me what it was like.’

The curtains were closed in the room but Freddie could still see the blood coming through the jumper Ray-Ray had used to bandage his hand. Freddie’s tone was light as he spoke.

‘Do you know how many people I’ve put in the ground for talking to me like that?’

‘It’s all a joke to you.’

‘I ain’t laughing son.’

‘Just go.’

‘You’ll have to make me – and don’t forget who’s the one with the gun in his hand.’

Freddie thought he saw a small smile from Ray-Ray. He sat on the end of the bed, slipping slightly on the silk sheets.

‘Tell me what happened son. You frightened everyone. Smashing the place up like that. He won’t admit it, but I reckon you frightened Johno as well.’ Freddie put his hand on Ray-Ray’s back and was surprised he didn’t move away.

‘I missed you Dad.’

Freddie’s voice caught in his throat as he struggled with his emotions. ‘I’m here now son. I’m back now.’

‘She was a whore wasn’t she?’

‘Yeah, they all were, you know that. She was one of our new girls. What did she say Ray-Ray? What did she say to upset you? I’m going to send Johno round later to deal with her.’

‘No! Don’t.’ Ray-Ray stared at his father. ‘Promise me you won’t let anyone lay their hands on her.’

‘Easy son.’

‘Promise me, Dad.’

‘Okay, I swear.’

They both fell silent again. Freddie, uncomfortable with any emotional situation, broke the quiet. ‘You still haven’t told me what she said.’

‘It wasn’t what she said. It was how she looked at me … it was what she
was
.’

‘She was a hooker, so what?’

‘I don’t mean that.’

‘You’ve lost me now son.’

‘Have you ever held onto something, only to discover it ain’t what you thought it was? And your life is built on nothing more than a dream and you realise you ain’t got nothing at all.’

Freddie looked down, pondering the question his son had just asked him. He looked up to the ceiling. He looked across to the door. Then he went back to staring at the floor, before finally looking at Ray-Ray and answering, ‘No.’

Frustrated, Ray-Ray kicked out at his clothes lying on the floor. ‘Haven’t you ever loved someone and they turned out to be someone different to who you thought they were?’

‘I married your mother, didn’t I?’ Freddie, seeing the tension come back to his son’s tone took the joking tone out of his voice. ‘What has this got to do with that whore?’

‘Don’t call her that.’

‘What do you me want me to call her; a tom? A hooker? A ho? Jesus, Ray-Ray, what do you want me to say?’

‘She’s got a name.’

Puzzled, Freddie shook his head. ‘Okay, okay, so let’s call her by her name. What is it?’

‘Lai … Janie, she said her name was Janie.’

‘Okay, so it’s Janie. I don’t get why Janie’s got under your skin so much.’

‘She hasn’t.’

‘Could have fooled me. I don’t know why you don’t just let Johno sort her out. Hell I’ll do it, it’d be my pleasure. I think even your mother would after seeing how upset you are over it.’

‘No, I told you.’

‘Suit yourself, but the offer’s there.’

‘What do you know about her?’

‘Know about her? You being serious? You think I’d know
anything about
her
? Why the fuck would I want to know about a hooker? I don’t need to. Men want to fuck them Ray-Ray, they don’t want their life story.’

Freddie stood up from the bed. Seeing as you won’t go to the hospital, I’m calling Doc to come and sort your hand out. I’ve got some things to do, so I’m shooting off. I’m meeting my new number man. Going to show him the ropes.’

As Freddie got to the door, he smiled at the sight of the blown-off lock. ‘Better send someone round to sort out this door before your mother gets home. I’m trying to get into her good books.’

‘I want to see her again.’

‘Who?’

‘I want to see Janie again.’

Freddie stared at his son. He blinked several times whilst he processed the information. He didn’t understand. ‘But I thought she’d upset you.’

‘Let me worry about that Dad.’

Freddie knew not to argue. He was just pleased his son wanted to spread his oats. ‘Okay … okay, great. I’ll let Johno know.’

‘But I don’t want her knowing anything about me. Not my real name, nothing.’

‘Yeah of course, that goes without saying. So you don’t have to worry on that score. When do you want to see her again?’

‘Tomorrow night.’

38

The next day Yvonne still hadn’t found the courage to tell Laila she’d lost the money for the rent or that Johno had given her until today to find it. Sighing, she sat on her bed. Going into her bag for her bottle of vodka, Yvonne stopped as she looked at the piece of paper. She’d forgotten all about it.

She got up to close the door, wanting to make sure no one could hear her. Taking a deep breath, she dialled the number. What other choice did she have?

‘Hello?’

‘Tariq, it’s Yvonne. Tariq?’

Baz Gupta didn’t say anything, just clicked off the phone and gritted his teeth. Then he smiled, a cold, dead smile which didn’t touch his eyes. The phone immediately rang again but this time Baz didn’t answer it. He watched Tariq walk into the room to get his mobile.

‘Hello?’

‘Tariq, it’s Yvonne. I need your help.’

‘Hold on, hold on a minute.’

Tariq looked at Baz who stared coldly at him, watching as he walked back out of the room. He brought his voice down to a whisper as he talked. ‘Yvonne! Are you all right? Is Laila okay? Thank you for calling.’

Taking a deep breath, Yvonne spoke. ‘I need your help.’

‘Anything, anything.’ Tariq answered with urgency.

‘I need some money.’

‘Okay, how much are we talking about? Fifty, hundred, two hundred?’

‘Two thousand.’

The line went silent for a moment.

‘Tariq?’

‘Yes, I’m here.’

Yvonne bit her nail nervously. ‘If you can’t.’

‘No, no, I can. Where are you?’

‘London.’

‘Okay, I can get down to London by early next week.’

Yvonne’s panic was clear in her voice. ‘Johno’s not going to wait for his money till then!’

‘Who’s Johno?’

‘The guy I really don’t want to have to tell I haven’t got his money.’

Tariq fought the temptation to react to what Yvonne had said about owing a man money. The tension in his voice was clear. ‘
Fine
. Fine. When do you want me to come down?’

‘Tonight.’

Baz stood on the station platform. It was raining but it didn’t worry him. He didn’t even bother to put his hood up. He wanted to feel it. Wanted to feel every moment.

It was all fitting into place nicely. When Arnold Wainwright had told him he thought Laila had gone to London, it was a lead but not a start. But instead of rushing out to do something, he’d waited. Prayed. And, as good men are, he was rewarded by his belief, and his prayers had been answered. It was only a shame that Mahmood had left for Pakistan last week. Still, Baz was more than capable of dealing with this on his own. In fact, he was looking forward to it.

Baz looked down at his ring. He rubbed it before stepping on to the train, three carriages down from an unaware Tariq. The bitch was in London and his brother-in-law would lead him straight to her.