The Betrayed (23 page)

‘All right,’ said Hate-’em-all, ‘we get the idea. That’s enough.’

‘So,’ said Eddie, turning on Rosie again, ‘this is your respectable lover boy, is it? You know the one… he’s out in Thailand filming tigers!’

‘Fucking animal,’ said Terry. ‘He should be strung up.’

‘Don’t you worry,’ growled Hate-’em-all, ‘I’ll take care of that, all right?’

‘How are we going to get hold of him?’ said Eddie.

‘Well,’ said Terry, ‘you’ve got his username, email address…’

‘Keep talking,’ said Eddie.

‘Why not use a honey trap? You could set up an email, pretend to be a young girl – a friend of this “sexy Suzy”, or something – and then hang around in that chatroom until he turns up.’

‘Has he taken his laptop to Thailand?’ Eddie asked Rosie, now visibly shaking.

‘I assume so.’

‘Right, so while he’s away, we start sending him emails, play along. We could even send a picture of any random little girl, just to keep him interested.’

‘Yeah,’ said Hate-’em-all, ‘and then tell him that her parents are going away and she’d he like him to come and visit. Somewhere out of the way, you know. And we just wait for him to show up.’

‘You’d have the bastard,’ said Terry, ‘bang to rights.’

‘Blinding!’ said Eddie. ‘Sort it, Terry… now.’ He was now thinking on his feet, running through the logistics. ‘But where shall we do it?

‘It can’t be the middle of nowhere,’ said Terry, ‘he’d cotton on.’

‘But it can’t be in the middle of town, either,’ said Hate-’em-all. ‘Too many people. We can’t risk any prying neighbours who might overhear.’

‘I know just the place,’ said Eddie finally. ‘What about that little bungalow on the edge of Epping Forest?’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Hate-’em-all. ‘That would be perfect.’

Rosie was now feeling like a bystander. Eddie was on a roll and she knew that there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

As she was getting ready to go back to Aunt Madge’s to see Ruby, while Hate-’em-all and Terry set up a bogus user account on the chatroom, Eddie took Rosie aside.

‘You get out of that house, you understand? Pack up your stuff and go back to Hewitt Way – that’s where you’re supposed to live. When the nonce rings, you act normal. Don’t give anything away. Ruby should stay with Madge… I don’t want that bastard around her ever again. You get me?’

Rosie nodded.

‘He will not see her ever again… he won’t even
speak
to her. If I find out he’s been anywhere
near
her, Rosie, once I’m done with him, I’ll come after you. Do I make myself clear?’

Rosie went cold. She knew he meant every word he said.

‘Then, ‘Eddie continued, ‘you give up your silly acting, and get back to what’s expected of you. You are Rosie Mullins, Johnny’s wife.’

‘What are you going to tell him?’

‘Nothing. I’m not going say a word about this. Not for your sake either, but for Johnny’s. It would
kill
him if he knew. Anything could happen. Nah, me and Harry will take care of this.’

Terry interrupted them. ‘Listen, how’s this? “Hiya corky, sexy Suzy said you are cool. I’m thirteen, how old are you?” That’s all right isn’t it?’

‘That’ll do,’ said Eddie. ‘Send it.’

twenty-six

R
osie enlisted the help of two strong men from Aunt Madge’s estate to help with the imminent move from Notting Hill back to Hewitt Way, and hired a van to carry all their belongings. That night, as she sat in Aunt Madge’s little flat, with Ruby on her knee, her phone beeped. She had a four-word text from Eddie. It read: ‘He replied. It’s on.’

She turned off her phone and put it on the side table, next to her cup of tea.

‘Rube?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I can promise you that no one will ever hurt you again.’

The big move couldn’t happen quickly enough for Rosie or Ruby. She directed events from Andrew’s house, while Ruby and Aunt Madge waited at Hewitt Way for the removals van to arrive. It was a day of mixed emotions for all of them.

There was less than a week left before Andrew was due to return from Thailand, and she wanted everything that they owned to be removed from his house by the time he came back. She knew she was never going to return there.

As Rosie packed up their things into large cardboard boxes, she was surprised to see how much she and Ruby had accumulated since they arrived. But, finally, the last box was crammed into the back of the van. Rosie took her bunch of keys and security fobs from her handbag, locked the door, and pushed them back through the letterbox. Walking away from Andrew’s house, she felt a huge sense of relief. She was leaving behind the respectable life that she had once craved – she’d tried so hard to fit in with Andrew’s friends – but she knew that it was nothing she’d really miss.
Funny
, she thought,
I was convinced I’d cracked it
. Goodbye to all that phoney conversation, those opera and theatre trips, the Chablis and lobster. With a bitter smile, she thought how perfect she had been for the part of Eliza Dolittle – the woman who didn’t fit into either world… the woman who didn’t belong anywhere.

The traffic was fairly light for a Saturday evening, so it didn’t take long for the van to drive back to Hewitt Way. When Rosie opened the front door, it was like stepping back in time. The house was warm and inviting, just like it had always been.

‘Oh, it’s you, Mum,’ Ruby said, running over and giving her a peck on the cheek.

Aunt Madge gave instructions to the helpful removal men, and Ruby picked up one of her boxes and carried it upstairs.

‘Cup of tea?’ asked a familiar voice.

Rosie’s eyes widened with surprise as she looked up to see Stevie coming towards her, carrying a large foil plate of freshly cut sandwiches and a mug.

‘Stevie!’ she said. ‘What’s all this?’

After a long hug, they sat down with Aunt Madge at the table. As they poured the tea and ate the sandwiches, a wonderful, safe feeling came over Rosie. It felt so good being back at her home, surrounded by the people she loved. Looking around she saw the worn, old sofa, the small coffee table, the bookcases attached to the wall, the little knick-knacks that made it home… they were all there, like they had been waiting for her.

Aunt Madge put a reassuring arm around Rosie and gave her a squeeze. ‘Things will be all right, darling,’ she said. ‘Just you wait and see.’

Rosie nodded and gave a watery sniff. ‘I really didn’t know,’ she said. ‘I really didn’t know.’

‘It’s okay, Rosie,’ said Stevie, pulling her into an embrace.

Tears rolled down Rosie’s cheeks as she looked around the room. ‘It’s good to be home,’ she said, her voice barely making it past the knot in her throat.

Later that night, after Aunt Madge had left and while Stevie was doing the washing up, Rosie wandered around the house, re-acquainting herself with it. The small rooms and cheap, faded furniture that she had previously hated, she now looked at with fondness. Thank God, she thought, that she was still had this little island of warmth and shelter.

‘You awake?’ she whispered, sticking her head in to Ruby’s room.

‘Yeah,’ came her daughter’s sleepy voice.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m downstairs if you need anything, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘Goodnight Rube,’ Rosie said, closing the door.

‘Mum?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I never want to leave here again.’

‘Okay,’ said Rosie, ‘if that’s what you want, darling.’

twenty-seven

A
ndrew had phoned almost every day. More often than not, Rosie had switched the call directly through to voicemail, and deleted his messages without even listening to them. Funny, she thought, that she always used to save the messages he left.

Eddie had kept her informed of the plan, too. Andrew had been cautious at first but, before long, messages addressed to ‘Hot Honey’ – the name that Hate-’em-all had come up with – were coming in thick and fast. Andrew was clearly an old hand at this, and even had a picture of ‘Corky’ – who was, apparently, a 13-year-old boy who was into films, music, and skateboarding. After receiving Corky’s picture, Eddie asked a particular young-looking prostitute that he knew to pose naked for a photo. Computer Terry pixilated her face, and they’d sent it to Andrew, along with an invitation to visit her at home – ‘when my parents will be out’ – the same day he was flying back from Thailand. The phone rang in Hewitt Way. There weren’t many people who called that number any more, so it was with some trepidation that Rosie picked up the receiver.

‘Hello?’

‘Where the
fuck
have you been?’

‘I’ve been busy filming,’ Rosie said, as casually as she could.

‘What’s up, Rosie?’ Johnny said. He knew that tone too well. ‘You sound upset.’

‘No, no. I’m fine. I’m just tired.’

‘You sure? Is Ruby okay?’

A million questions shot through Rosie’s mind. Had Eddie spoken to him? Or Hate-’em-all? ‘Ruby’s fine,’ she said, slowly. ‘She’s with Aunt Madge.’

‘She still got that psycho dog?’

Rosie breathed a sign of relief… he didn’t know.

‘So… is my famous film-star wife too busy to come and see her husband then?’

‘No, it’s not that…’ said Rosie. ‘Look, filming’s finished now – I would love to come and see you.’ As she said the words, Rosie realised that not only was she prepared to visit him… she wanted to. ‘I… I miss you.’

For a moment the line fell silent.

‘Are you still there?’ Rosie asked.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m still ’ere. I ’aint got much choice, have I?’ Johnny said, with a laugh. ‘When can I come?’

‘When do you want to come? Tomorrow?’

‘I haven’t got a V.O.,’ said Rosie. Anyone visiting HMP Maidstone needed a visiting order, and it always took a day or two to arrange it.

‘There’ll be one waiting for you at the gate,’ said Johnny. ‘I gotta go. My phone card’s about to die on me.’

The line went dead. He was gone.

Taking a seat on the old sofa, Rosie was surprised at the emotions that she was feeling. The brief conversation with Johnny had been easy…
comforting
, even. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken any comfort from her husband, and the safety net that surrounded the Mullins family. Had she been too hard on Johnny? She
had
always looked down on him, that was true enough. But Johnny was a product of his environment – a tough, dog-eat-dog world.

She found herself thinking about their first date… she had been 17 when they first met, at that party he’d organised with Eddie for the cast of
EastEnders
. They had clicked immediately and, at the end of the night he’d invited her to his new club, the Manhattan, just off Commercial Road.

As a genuine East End girl, Rosie had heard a great deal about the club, and was so excited to be visiting it with one of its owners, no less. She’d made a real effort, preparing for their fist night out together – buying a little black dress from a designer boutique on the Roman Road that fitted the occasion perfectly, using heated rollers for her hair, putting on false eyelashes, make-up… the works.

When Rosie arrived at the club, it being a Saturday there was a long line of people waiting patiently to get inside. Rosie, as instructed, walked straight to the front where the doorman – a real oak of a man – took one look at her and asked, ‘You Rosie?’

No sooner had she responded, he ushered her inside and, clearing a way through the sea of people, showed her to the VIP lounge at the back. Johnny was waiting for her, dressed in a tonic mohair suit, black python shoes, and a double-cuff, monogrammed shirt – looking like he just stepped off some yacht in Monte Carlo.

From that day on she had been under Johnny’s wing – no more queuing to get into clubs, no more waiting at the bar, no more unwanted attention from any pushy geezers. She had respect.

After speaking to Rosie, Johnny made his way back to the cell with an unfamiliar lightness in his heart. Her sudden change of attitude had been a real surprise, but it was very welcome. Things were beginning to fall into place in Johnny’s world – business was good and, quite out of the blue, it looked like reconciliation with his missus was on the cards. With hindsight, it must be difficult for her on the outside, he thought.
Maybe I
was
too hard on her
.

The change in him was obvious. Unlike Eddie, whose mood was almost impossible to read, Johnny’s state of mind was always reflected in the way he carried himself. On the landing, as he passed a con he vaguely knew, he was surprised to hear him say, ‘All right John?’ On any other day, Johnny would have thought it a liberty, him being so familiar. But today he didn’t care.

‘Yeah,’ he said, stopping. The con took a small step backwards… he looked suddenly nervous. ‘My missus is coming up tomorrow. She’s finished filming.’

‘Oh yeah? She was in that thing, wasn’t she? I saw it in the paper,’ said the con, beginning to relax. ‘Perhaps we can have a word with the guv’nor. Maybe roll out the red carpet, eh?’