Hooked By Love (12 page)

Josh

‘Josh, get in here,’ Craig shouted from his office again. His voice possessed that hysterical squeal at the end of each sentence that he got when he was very upset but felt too helpless to do anything about it. ‘Josh!’

‘All right, I’m coming,’ I called from behind my desk, having to abandon the financial discrepancies I’d come across when Craig had neglected to pay some of our overheads. Several accounts appeared to be in deficit, while others were overabundant, and I didn’t like the look of that uneven distribution over equally important accounts.

For now, I’d appease the howling big baby, otherwise he’d never leave me be. When I entered into his office, he had the television on again and was leering at the screen, his pupils practically glowing red in hatred.

‘Who’s winding you up now?’ I asked calmly, grabbing a Coke from his bar fridge and making my way to the office sofa.

A crowd was chanting and shouting in some noisy upset on the telly. I breached the seal of the can, thinking at first the ruckus was about something political, but then I saw her.

‘Jesus.’

‘Look familiar? Déjà Vu?’ Craig almost shrieked.

‘Oh my God, Amber, what are you up to now?’ I said to the image on the screen, but I was quite aware of what she was capable of and, after her tirade in my office, I knew this wouldn’t be pretty.

‘Have a look at your bitch, little brother!’ Craig raged, his face crimson as he clutched his Scotch. ‘Did you hear that?! We’re corrupt? Some insignificant little bitch from Camden has an opinion about us, but she doesn’t stop there, oh no! She plastered our name all over a fuck load of social media pages and news channels and set consumer watchdogs all over our associates!’

‘She what?’ I gawked at her on the flat screen. She was speaking to several journalists in front of the centre. ‘How can she make such accusations?’

I was dumbstruck by the level she’d stooped to because I couldn’t do anything to stifle the eviction plans and stop the demolition. After all the trouble I’d gone through to show her how much I cared and all the personal things we’d shared, how could she discard it all and do this to me? How could she hate me this much that she would launch a media circus to take down and smear the reputation of my father’s company? I couldn’t believe that the sweet, playful woman I’d almost made love to a few nights before had resorted to such base methods to destroy us. We were nothing like that. The reports on our wrongdoing had been falsified, hadn’t they? Weren’t they?

‘Craig, what’s she talking about?’ I asked.

‘Who knows? Crazy slags, all of them! She’s been poking at us since the first notice, Josh.’ He slammed his glass down on his desk and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he headed for the door. ‘I’m going to pay my solicitor a visit to see where we stand with her making slanderous accusations. I’ll make sure I take that bitch down! I want her out of the way, out of that building and fucking gone, once and for all!’

I wanted to agree with my brother, and moreover, I wanted to teach Amber a lesson for defiling my father’s company’s name like that, but for some reason, it felt right to leave her to do her thing. More than anything I wished I could thwart her filthy campaign against us, yet something in me told me not to act in haste. What if she was right? What if there was some truth to what she claimed we were involved in? Craig had a fit every time I asked to see the tax records. I’d highlighted several transactions I was unsure of in the monthly reports, but again he reacted angrily when questioned and I never got to the bottom of it. His underhandedness was, after all, the reason I’d elected to come into the fold after so many years of resisting. Craig was very capable of destroying this company with his unorthodox and sometimes unethical business conduct, but could it be as bad as Amber was making out?

I scooped up the remote to turn up the volume to hear what she had to say. Seeing her took me back to our night together. I could still remember the smell of her hair and the slight tint of her perfume just above her collarbone. I watched her lips move and felt them warm and soft on mine.

‘The Berkley-O’Neil company is rotten to the core and it’s time the people of London stood against their unscrupulous dealings,’ she told the journalist interviewing her.

Behind her a crowd had gathered,  holding up signs like
Save Young Minds
,
Fight for the Centre
or
Down with Berkley-O’Neil.
One slogan caught my eye in particular because it was so harsh—
Ban the
Berkley Bullies
—but what shocked me to my core was the face underneath the banner.

‘Zack?’ I breathed out his name. Zack, of all people. ‘What the hell is he doing there?’

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The camera panned and stopped on Amber again.

‘You have to understand we’re not a business, we’re a charity, and that means we care about people, not money. Our centre serves a collective, and we serve society on behalf of young people who can’t manage by themselves.’

Her voice sounded so different through the speaker of the telly, but it still held that familiar chime. Amber made a few good points, if I could ignore her thrall over me, and her valid argument had me thinking.

‘Where will you go if you feel as if the world is against you? Young people who feel suicidal, who are alone in an intolerant world, they find a home with us. We understand when nobody else, not their parents or teachers or priests, understand. And why? Because most of us have been there.’ Her conviction evoked a deep sense of admiration in me. ‘People need the centre. Berkley-O’Neil does not.’

It was getting dark outside while I watched the reporter on TV share the links of Internet pages running petitions against us. The storm that Amber had unleashed on us was rather unsettling, and I wondered if her anger toward our company was because she felt jilted, or solely because the eviction was going ahead.

‘You saw that too?’ Craig’s secretary remarked from the doorway. She walked to his desk and laid several papers down. ‘What do you really think she’s after?’

I could only shake my head. With everything involved in this case, I honestly didn’t know what Amber Cross was really after, but from what I knew about her psyche, she wasn’t the overreacting type.

‘Justice,’ I replied. ‘She’s not wrong about the importance of that centre to community.’

‘I know, but I didn’t want to raise the issue while Craig was here. My sister sent my nephew to the centre because he was having a hard time coming to terms with being gay. The counselling he received there was second to none,’ she told me. ‘He’s at university now, doing really well for himself. I dread to think what would have happened if he’d had nowhere to turn.’

‘Wow, so they’re not exaggerating about their abilities.’ I nodded. ‘Sounds more like a …
sanctuary
.’

‘It is. Look, If Craig comes back tonight, can you make sure he signs those papers please? I’m finished for the day.’

She pointed at the open files on the desk before leaving Craig’s office. Amber had disappeared from the screen, but the crowd was still on camera. I leant forward, searching for Zack again. My nephew. My off-kilter, lost and angry nephew.

Why would he oppose our company, a company he held an equal share in?
I just couldn’t make sense of it.

Whatever the case, things were way out of hand. All of this scrutiny on our company unnerved me in a way I never knew possible. Perhaps I could work some loophole around the demolition? If I could somehow stall it, Craig would lose his extension on the permits and he’d have to reapply. Property redevelopment wasn’t my forte but I knew the basics of how it operated beyond the average person. Maybe I could lose some of the documents needed to secure the demolition company or halt the funding of the permits before they got approved. I leapt to my feet and ran to the door. Mary hadn’t left yet. She was tidying her desk.

‘Mary, can you do me a favour before you leave?’ I asked.

She looked up at me with an expectant gleam in her eye that I ignored. I didn’t date employees—especially now that I’d met Amber.

‘Yes?’ she said, fluttering her lashes.

‘Can you find a high-end property litigation firm for me, please? It’s urgent,’ I said.

She looked confused. ‘But—’

‘And keep this between the two of us, if you want others like your nephew to get the support they need. Let me know who you find. I’ll be in my office.’

‘You’re aware we already have our own representation, right?’ she asked as I started up the corridor.

‘That’s the problem,’ I muttered under my breath.

Josh

I drew up beside the pump at the petrol station. Exiting the car, I exhaled a long held in breath.
Can my day possibly get any worse?

Not only had I discovered that Amber Cross was at my throat more than ever, but Zack had become even more aggressive towards the family.

The smell of rubber and fuel filled my nostrils as the slight evening breeze soothed my sweating brow. It was so good to see families sitting in the adjacent restaurant, enjoying their time together without the hefty issues most families dealt with on an average day. I wasn’t that naïve that I thought they didn’t have their problems, no doubt they did. But they’d chosen to set aside their dramas to have dinner together, wisely away from home.

Absent-mindedly, I walked into the kiosk to pay. On the counter lay a copy of
Camden Post
staring me in the face like a little lapdog with an attitude that kept snapping at my heel and relentlessly yapping in my ear. The headlines screamed how the Berkley-O’Neil property developers were exploiting planning authorities.

‘Jesus,’ I said under my breath.

‘Can you believe that?’ the clerk asked, sobering my thoughts instantly.

‘What?’ I asked, blinking.

‘That those bastards have been getting away with rotten dealings for years just because nobody had the guts to expose them. It’s because they have so much money. They probably bribe everyone to keep quiet,’ the forty-something man judged in his raw Cockney accent.

‘Have you lived around here long?’ I asked him.

‘Nope. But I know that company is bad news. My brother and sister-in-law were chucked out by those arseholes two years back, when they bought the flats they were renting. Thrown out of their home of five years for that bloody unsightly concrete car park in Levinson Road! Now they live in squalor because of the property prices.’

Thank God he had no idea who I was. I massaged the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension steadily building in my muscles. ‘I hear you. But I think things will look up soon.’

He stared at me with utter cynicism. ‘From your lips to God’s ears, mate. Nothing will change while money has the power … or until these criminals get what’s coming to them. It took this Cross woman to stand up for that centre in Camden. Nobody else had the guts to go up against them. I hope she gets a good lawyer to wipe the O’Neil Empire off the face of the earth.’

I had no reason to get angry at his choice of words, I was ashamed to admit, because the insults were well founded. How could I have closed my eyes to this corruption for so long? Even though I wasn’t personally involved in dealing with the local authorities, I still shouldered some of the blame. The company was a family business and I had to accept responsibility for all aspects of its dealings. I should have done something about cleaning the company up. More importantly, I should have stepped in at the beginning and helped Amber when she needed me most. This brought to mind Craig’s defensiveness about the financial records. I was now more than adamant to find out the truth.

During the drive home, a myriad of endeavours, contemplations, reasoning, planning and concerns filled my head, but one thought stood out above the others: Zack’s involvement with the centre. We had to talk about it and I didn’t give a damn what his attitude would present tonight. He was in my house, under my care, and for once, I wouldn’t be afraid to unsettle him. I wouldn’t back down for the sake of peace or because I hated confronting a kid who was still in mourning. I had to know what was going on inside his head and by God, he would tell me.

Aggie had left me a pot of chicken soup on the hob and freshly baked rolls on the kitchen counter, under the cover of a red dishcloth. The amazing smell filled the whole house, reminding me of my childhood. That feeling of safety, the shelter of innocence and the freedom of no priorities or responsibilities permeated through me as the sweet smell of delicious baked goods released good memories.

I spooned out a bowl of soup while the kettle was on. This home-cooked meal was a welcome change to the take away and leftovers I’d been indulging in during the past week, apart from the dinner with Amber a few days back. I chucked my jacket over the back of the sofa and switched on the TV. I chose a channel with a nature documentary that featured Richard Attenborough’s soothing narration because I’d learnt one thing over the years: an active but calm home automatically made for a more relaxed conversation, even if the conversation involved me prying into Zack’s secrets.

‘Speak of the devil,’ I said as he opened the door, racing in from the genesis of wet weather.

‘Who were you speaking to, then?’ Zack asked without humour. ‘The weather gods? Told them to piss all over me, did you, Uncle Josh?’

‘Would I do such a thing?’ I joked, but as expected, he shrugged me off and headed for the stairs.

He skipped up the steps and I watched him glance back at me.

‘Oh, Zack, have you got a minute to talk?’ I asked him matter-of-factly. I didn’t want to sound like a typical parent or guardian about to confront a teenager for his wrongdoings, so I opted for the nonchalant approach.

‘I’m busy,’ he mumbled.

‘What, killing zombies? I don’t think so. Down here now.’

I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t let him walk over me tonight.

‘But—’

‘I don’t want to hear any excuses, Zack. In the kitchen. I’m waiting,’ I said in a raised voice that held no aggression.

I sensed his defences rise up around him like the Walls of Jericho and lock into an unshakable fortress of indifference.

‘This is going just great,’ I muttered to myself, getting ready for a feisty tug-of-war. Speaking to my nephew had been a grand hellish effort ever since he came to live with me.

I pulled a couple of beers from the fridge to prepare myself for the effort of getting Zack to come downstairs. I turned to call out again but he was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the frame.

‘I have things to do, so can we hurry up with this,’ he said plainly.

‘I saw you,’ I started.

He perked up. ‘Where?’

‘I saw you on television, at the centre with Amber Cross and the protestors. What were you doing there?’ I decided to just get it over with. After the day I’d had, I was way too tired to tiptoe around the fragility of a hostile youth like Zack.

He said nothing, looking shocked that I’d brought up the centre. Visibly flustered, he ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Here,’ I said and passed him a beer. He was clearly taken aback by my sudden cavalier approach to discipline and rules, and that was just what I wanted. I sat down on the table edge and took a long drink of beer. ‘Zack, what were you doing at the centre?’

He refused to answer or look me in the eye. Shifting uncomfortably, his eyes combed the floor and he put the can up to his face to occupy his lips.

I wasn’t relenting. ‘Zack, I know what kind of people they assist there. Are you gay? You can tell me.’

Zack’s eyes widened to my candid prying, his bottom lip trembling before he gripped it between his teeth.

‘Are you gay? Is that why you were there with them? Is that what’s been troubling you all this time? Because if it is, it’s no big deal to me, you know,’ I said casually, although my heart was thundering in my chest, praying he would open up to me.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to me. ‘Yes. I’m gay. There, I’ve said it. You happy now?’

Breakthrough! I was so overwhelmed he still trusted me that I could have thrust my fist in the air. I tried not to look pleased, knowing Zack would construe it as ridicule or smugness.

I walked over to him and placed my hands on his shoulders. ‘Yes, Zack, I’m very happy that you feel comfortable enough to share how you feel with me. I can only imagine how hard it’s been for you recently … not just about your sexuality, but everything.’

Zack studied my face. I wanted to pull him into my arms and hug the life out of him. He was coming back to me.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I asked as I dropped my arms to my side and stepped back to give him some space.

He shrugged. ‘I thought you’d throw me out if you knew I was a faggot.’

‘Jesus, Zack, is that what you really thought? That I would hurt the person I love more than anything on this earth?’

He sneered at me. ‘If that’s true then why are you trying to close down the only place I went to for help when there was no one else?’

‘Listen …’ I tried, but he was back to his old abrasive self.

‘No, you listen!’ He shoved the beer can against my chest and I caught it in my hand. ‘All you care about is money! Work and money! That’s all that matters to you, so don’t pretend you care about me. It’s fucking sick what you’re doing to all those people who need the centre. You’re a bigger prick than Craig and I fucking hate you!’

I watched him shift back into a dark form of the young man he could be and my heart caved in under the sledgehammer of his attack.