The Graft (47 page)

The man, though, who was with a couple of friends was not to be lightly placated and answered back loudly.

‘He wants to take care because one of these days his brothers ain’t going to be enough to keep someone off his back.’

Louis glanced over at Terry who, mercifully, was too busy looking down a dark-haired woman’s cleavage to hear what had been said. Stepping towards the man, he grinned.

’Are you on a fucking death wish, mate? Only your pals don’t look like they want a piece of him so you’ll be on your own.’

The man looked around and saw the truth of what was being said.

‘Now finish your drink and leave us to ours, eh?’

Louis sighed. He had a feeling that this was going to be a foretaste of the rest of the day. Terry was up for anything, and the trouble with Terry was, he usually got it.

 
Jude was completely alone and it felt wrong. Gino was locked away at his mother’s house and she knew she was not going to get to him. None of the other boys had been near or by for a while and she had the terrible feeling she was finally, and irrevocably, on her own.

Even her neighbours were blanking her, and that was a first because usually they would have talked to her just to get the gossip about what had happened the night before. She was completely on her Jack Jones and knew it. Sitting on the sofa, she lit a cigarette with trembling hands and poured a stiff vodka into the glass of orange juice she already had.

The place was still mashed up from the day before but she didn’t notice it. The methadone was kicking in.

She picked up Sonny’s mobile and stared at it for a few seconds. Then she carefully dialled the number she had got from Big Ellie.

The phone was answered on the first ring and this threw her. She had not expected that to happen.

‘Hello.’

The familiar voice made her go clammy with fear.

‘Who is this?’

‘It’s me, Sonny’s mum.’

Her voice sounded much stronger than she felt. Her hands were already shaking and her nerves, already in shreds from the brown stuff, were on their last knockings.

‘What do you want?’

The voice was colder than an Arctic breeze and Jude swallowed deeply before saying, ‘Money.’

The line went dead and she sat back on the sofa, terrified now by what she had done. But she would keep with it. Sonny Boy had told her everything, and this was just the first number on a long list of men she was going to fleece. She was starting with a little fish and making her way up to the big one. It had actually been easier than she had first thought. Now the initial fear had worn off she felt quite pleased with herself.

After the last few weeks of worry, she almost felt like laughing at the fact that she had been so frightened of blowing apart a world that her son had not only embraced but had also enjoyed. The men who had enjoyed it with him owed her, and she had to make sure they understood that. If she could start with the small fry she could work her way up the chain to the big pay-off.

That had been the idea when Sonny had robbed that bastard’s house. Well, Proctor was dead and gone but the others were still alive and kicking and she knew that it was the right time to play her trump card.

Sonny Boy had always told her everything and she had filed it all away for future reference. Most people would have seen Sonny’s actions over the years as wrong, but she had seen him for what he was a long time before he had known it himself. As far as she was concerned, if he could turn his little foible into an earner all the better. She had sold her own body before now, even giving a few blow jobs when necessary to top up her income support. But unlike Sonny Boy, she had not enjoyed it. As he had once said, job satisfaction was half the pleasure of a job well done.

She had kept her trap shut to Old Bill, expecting to have been given compensation long before she had had to resort to this little game.

The filth would have loved to hear her side of the story, but fair’s fair, or so she had thought. Wait till it all dies down, but not any more. Life was too fucking short and her needs were too immediate to keep up this bollocks any longer.

The silent calls should have alerted them all to the fact she was on to them. That alone should have brought her in a few quid. Not a fucking brass Razoo though, from any of them, and they all had a hefty wedge. Well, fuck them now, she was after her insurance money on her boy and she was going to get it.

 
‘You look fucking terrible, Tyrell.’

Terry laughed jovially.

‘That nearly rhymes, don’t it? Terrible Tyrell. Makes you sound like a Romanian despot.’ He pulled a face and pretended to twirl an imaginary moustache. Tyrell grinned back. When Terry had a lightning change of mood like this he could be funny, could be a laugh, and he needed a laugh.

The dark woman with the humungous breasts was still at the bar and Terry was working on buying her another drink. Tyrell and Louis knew it would be pointless trying to remove him from the pub just yet.

‘How about another, love?’

Terry turned to the barman and said sotto voce: ‘Stick a quadruple brandy in that port, would you?’

The woman was laughing good-naturedly.

‘Just the port will do, thank you.’

Terry rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Tyrell and Louis both knew this might be a long one. He could spend hours cracking a bird and then take her outside, give her one and be hard pushed to remember her name within hours. With Terry it was all about the thrill of the chase. He was chasing this one big style, and in fairness she was gorgeous. In another life Tyrell might have gone after her himself. Still, it was fun watching Terry at work, he really was a master.

‘Here, Tyrell, have a guess what? Leonie here is a Jack the Ripper! Why am I not surprised?’

He was thrilled and so was she. A match had just been made in shag heaven as far as Terry was concerned. A stripper was his dream woman.

‘Have another drink, my sweet. I think this could be an interesting couple of hours, don’t you, guys?’

Louis laughed. Terry after a bird was a sight to see, and he was always after birds.

He said to Tyrell, ‘We are in lumber now, mate, he ain’t going nowhere till he’s cracked it.’

In a way Tyrell was glad of that fact. He needed to psych himself up for it all tonight. He had a feeling it would go downhill from here. They would be far better off under cover of darkness anyway. According to Willy it was lively on a Saturday night in the rat houses.

Tyrell had texted his boys, explaining he could not pick them up today, and they had texted back saying it was fine. He couldn’t see them today anyway. It would be too hard trying to act normal with all that was going round in his head. So now he had a long afternoon stretching ahead of him and as Terry was driving he could have a few drinks. He might use the excuse to go and take care of another bit of business that needed to be sorted.

When he finally saw her again Jude was going to get the shock of her life. In a way he was frightened to see her in case his feelings got the better of him and he totally flipped. The hatred he felt for her now was obscuring everything good that had ever happened between them. She had served her own son up on a plate, Tyrell had no qualms about admitting that to himself now. She had thrown their son’s life away to feed her addiction, and he had let her. He had stepped back and let her because it made his life with Sally easier. Two women, so different and yet so alike. Two women who always seemed to get what they wanted.

Well, not any more.

He would have another couple of drinks first and see how he felt then. This new lifestyle was very seductive. He could fall into a face’s routine very easily. You just took care of business and then enjoyed the fruits of your labour. And as far as Tyrell was concerned, not before time either.

 
Jude was in a good mood. She had found a bag of brown under the sofa. It must have been knocked off the table in the fracas of the day before. It was a good sign as far as she was concerned. It meant that things were looking up, that everything could only get better. At least she hoped that was what it meant.

She had a knack for making things into what she wanted them to be. It had stood her in good stead over the years. When her life was at its lowest points she always managed to fight her way back to the top. For Jude that meant getting some gear and forgetting whatever she had done to others in the meantime.

Sonny had loved it when she was on top. He would sit and brush her hair for hours, telling her how much he loved her and listening to her stories about growing up and her first loves. He had been really good like that. He was the only person who’d still wanted to talk to her, be with her. Over the years any friends she had made soon disappeared, her habit had seen to that. She had borrowed money, used them in any way she could, and eventually stolen from them. No one took that for long. Sonny on the other hand had given her just what she wanted without a murmur and before she had the chance to take it. Even his birthday money was not sacrosanct yet he had never mentioned it if she stole it from him.

Jude was feeling sad now, at what she had lost. No one realised just how much they had done for each other. Now he was gone, and he would never come back, and those men owed her. They all owed her for that.

When Sonny had caught his big fish she had been inordinately proud of him. A boy who was so naturally sensitive and kind had to have homosexual leanings, it stood to reason. So she had only pushed him to follow his natural inclination. Or that at least was what she told herself over and over again.

But he had been such a good-looking boy, such a lovely boy. Why
should
he sell himself cheap? She knew the street better than anyone and had steered him in the right direction. And Sonny had wanted to be steered.

She was justifying what she had done to herself and deep inside she knew that. Jude wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, remembering how they would sit together and watch
EastEnders
, discussing the storylines as if the characters were real people that they knew. They had had the time of their lives together, why didn’t anyone see that except her? Sonny had been happy here with his mum, happy doing things with her. Her life had been blighted when her son had died, why did no one see that? Why didn’t they understand that what she had had with Sonny was a special bond that transcended the usual mother and son relationship?

He would have killed for her, that was how much he loved her. How many women could say that about their kids, eh?

She turned around as she heard someone come in at the front door. She had left it ajar in case Gino managed to escape his tormentors. Turning round with a big smile on her face, she said gaily, ‘Just in time!’

But the smile was wiped off her face as she saw who it was. Her heart stopped in her chest as fright took hold.

‘Hello Jude, long time no see.’

The voice was just as she remembered it, but now the man she had scored off for all those years looked dangerous somehow.

She thought of all the times she had scagged from him, and even though she had expected him to be annoyed, she had never in her wildest dreams expected to feel this fear. He was weighing her up as if she was so much dirt and his nose was wrinkling to show the utter distaste he felt for her and her lifestyle.

His own home was like an operating theatre in comparison, he wouldn’t even sit down in her house in case he soiled his expensive suit.

She still thought though, that he had come to weigh her out in some way, either with money or the brown.

She had just not expected him so soon.

None of the others she had rung had even bothered to answer her call; maybe this was an omen for the future. Jude, like all junkies, lived in a world of hope.

Lenny stared into her face, trying to intimidate her and achieving his objective. ‘You think you can make a few phone calls and everyone will come running, do you? Well, I am here to tell you, Jude, that you are wrong.’

She looked into his eyes, saw the hate, saw the disgust and this prompted her to forget just who she was dealing with. She pointed a dirty finger at him, her anger outweighing her fear now. ‘You fucking owe me, as much as the others, if not more. It was you who pulled my Sonny into the world of baby boys. He was twelve when you started him on the road, introducing him to your so-called
mates
. Would you like people to know about that, Lenny, eh? You might be a respectable dealer but nonces are a different breed and everyone knows that, and you, Lenny, are a nonce.’

The words were spoken with all the venom she could muster and in fairness to him she knew she had hit a nerve. Lenny Bagshots saw himself as a man of means, a face on the rise and as a good family man. His aberration, as he put it, was nothing to worry about. As long as it stayed a secret it could not impinge on his other life. He knew other, like-minded men who felt exactly the same. The trouble with Sonny was, he had been a loose cannon and as the time had gone on he had embraced his lifestyle a little bit too openly.

Now this piece of shite was trying to screw him.

Well, better people than Jude had tried. Her son was a prime example; he had tried to pull too many people down and he knew in his heart that she was probably behind her son’s skulduggery. Junkies always needed money. If they won the national lottery they would still not feel they had enough. Their eyes were always on the fix they couldn’t afford, never on the one they actually had in their arms at the time.