The Life (37 page)

Petey knew his brother was perfectly right to chastise him, but he had snorted a few lines, imbibed a few drinks, and now his natural antagonism was at the fore. He hated being mugged off or overlooked;
he
needed to feel in control at all times, needed to feel that
he
was the one who called the shots.

He pushed his face close to his brother’s as he said viciously. ‘
Bollocks
to you, bruv, you need to fucking lighten up.’

Liam stared into his brother’s eyes; he could see the anger there, and he realised suddenly that it had always been there. The thought was so random yet so true, he was deeply affected by it. Petey was an angry person, and his anger wasn’t because he was deprived or had problems, it was just a part of him, like eating or drinking. Like Uncle Daniel, he had been born like it. Both had been born without any kind of boundaries whatsoever.

Liam saw his brother as if for the first time. ‘Do you know what, Pete? Bollocks to
you
. You’re a cunt. Who do you think you are? At the moment I am just about the only person in this whole world who is actually on your side. But if you don’t want that, you let me know. Because I have had you up to my back teeth.’

He walked away from Petey before his brother could answer him; if his brother pushed it tonight he would finally retaliate.

Lena had a headache, and she felt sick with it. She knew it was the change, and the hot flushes were overwhelming her.

The noise was horrendous in the club; the music was too loud and, in her opinion, without any tune whatsoever. Even showing off her new outfit was not enough to make her want to stay.

She had been quite pleased to get a message from Tania, asking her if someone could pick her up from the house. Like she couldn’t get a cab! Lazy little mare. It was because of her crush on Petey; Tania had been worried about tonight. She was still so young, so unsure of herself. If only Lena could make her child understand that the day would come when she would laugh about this. She had a sneaking feeling that her Tania had not really wanted to come and witness Petey with his bride-to-be, the fragrant Bernadette!

She smiled to herself, heart-sorry for her baby’s predicament. Oh, to be that young again, and know what she knew now.

A drive was just what she needed, though, some fresh air and a chance to clear her head. She was sweating again; the heat in this club was unbearable. Plus, in all honesty, she didn’t like to think of her girl alone at home, all hormones and teenage angst – she needed her mum more than ever tonight.

Lena made her way over to her husband and his brother. She was really feeling her age – not something she was going to
admit to anyone here, of course. Ria was like a fucking Linty, dancing and drinking. Even her mother-in-law was having a better night than she was, and she was in her late sixties, for fuck’s sake. Ria wasn’t having as bad a time as Lena was with the change; in fact, Ria was breezing through it without too much difficulty.

Lena smiled up at her husband. ‘Give me the car keys, will you, Dan? I feel a bit iffy. I’m going to pick up our Tania. She is late as usual – honestly, she will be late for her own funeral, that one. But I could do with the break anyway.’

Daniel knew exactly what was wrong with his wife; she was nothing if not vocal about her change, and he did feel sorry for her. He could see how much it affected her on a daily basis. He was glad he was a man; women, he felt, certainly got the thin end of the wedge when it came to hormones, or in this case, the lack of them. She was like the Antichrist some days, and he would be glad when it was all over at last.

He put his arm around her protectively. ‘You all right, Lena? You look dog rough, girl.’

Lena laughed; only her Daniel could say something like that and still think he was being nice. ‘I’m all right, I just need to get a bit of air, that’s all. I want to see Tania anyway. She should have been here ages ago. Give me your car keys.’

Daniel grinned. ‘They’re in my coat. But hang on and I’ll get someone to drive you, love.’

Lena was shaking her head. ‘Honestly, Daniel, I don’t need a driver, I’d rather go by myself, mate.’

Peter Bailey pulled his brother towards him. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ve got the keys to my Merc here. I won’t be driving tonight, young Roy Barber is my designated driver. Have you seen him? He only looks about fucking twelve. I’ll get him to drive you, Lena.’

Lena sighed in annoyance now. ‘No, honestly, Peter, I’d rather drive myself.’ She smiled at her husband sadly. ‘I might not come back if you don’t mind, Daniel – if Tania isn’t in the mood, like. I’ll stay at home with her.’

Smiling, Peter said, ‘Fair enough.’ He handed the keys to Lena. ‘Look, it’s right outside. You take it, mate. Tell Tania she needs to get a fucking wristwatch. She’s worse than my Ria for being late.’

Lena really laughed then. ‘I know, Pete, she is on her own time zone, her. I’ll make sure the doormen keep your space for you, OK? But if I don’t come back, you won’t mind, will you?’

Peter shook his head. ‘’Course not, mate. Fuck me – if we can’t get a lift home then we are doing our jobs wrong!’

Lena hugged her brother-in-law and he hugged her back. Then she kissed her husband on the cheek, and he held her tightly to him. ‘Come back, Lena, please? I think me and you have a dance booked later – that’s if this ponce ever plays real music, of course.’

Lena laughed once more and, as she pushed her way through the crowded club, Daniel said to his brother loudly, ‘Best fucking decision I ever made, marrying her.’

Peter nodded. Both of the brothers were very pleased at how the night was going. The atmosphere in the club screamed success, and it was a legitimate earn into the bargain.

‘I know, Dan, we both done well in that way. We knew a good thing when we saw it. Unlike this new generation, they only see the top show, they don’t understand there’s much more to marriage than that.’

The brothers were still laughing and joking five minutes later when they felt and heard the explosion. The front of their new club disintegrated before their eyes, and pandemonium broke loose.

Peter Bailey was looking around him at the devastation that the bomb had caused. The front of the club was completely destroyed – there was nothing left except a gaping hole. All around him were casualties, young men and women, cut and bleeding. The glass front they had so lovingly designed had been no more than a weapon in the end.

Imelda was sitting on the dirty pavement, her mother beside her, holding her close, their new clothes forgotten now, both of them looking bewildered.

Peter looked at Theresa and, even now, amidst such carnage he still had to admit, she was a fucking phenomenon. She was talking to him, trying to remind him and his brother that they mustn’t forget the real issue here. He could hear police sirens and fire engines, he could smell the acrid stench of burning, of smoke, and he could see the remainder of his car. The car in which Lena had been butchered.

‘Peter, son, get your brother away now. Sort him out before the Filth get here.’ Peter knew his mother was right; he had to keep it together for the time being at least. He pulled his dazed brother away from the scene; they needed to focus on the next few hours. The police would be all over this like a rash, and the papers would be milking it like a Jersey cow. It was a dream story for them: bombs, criminals and Soho. It was the sixties all over again.

‘Daniel, listen to me. You have to think straight. The Filth will be all over this, and you can’t say anything at all.’

Daniel Bailey was nodding as his brother spoke. Peter knew he was absolutely stunned, unable to take in the fact that his wife had been murdered, blown to smithereens. Daniel looked into his older brother’s face and, with tears rolling down his cheeks, he said quietly. ‘Peter,
you
listen to
me
, bruv. You don’t get it, do you? That bomb was meant for
you
, mate. Not my Lena.’

Peter Bailey stood on the pavement holding his brother’s hands, as the reality of his words sank in.

Until now, that had not even occurred to him.

Tania was annoyed; she knew that her tardiness was a family joke, but she was still irritated that her mum had not even bothered to call her back.

The thought of going to the club, and watching her cousin playing happy families was not something she relished, but she knew she had to show her face at some point. The later the better, as far as she was concerned and, even though she’d made sure she looked pretty good, she felt she could never compete with Bernadette O’Toole.

She sighed heavily, and lit a cigarette. She usually only smoked when she was drinking, but tonight she felt on edge, nervous.

It was gone midnight, and no one had even bothered to ring her to see if she was OK and ask if she was going to come to the opening. She was hurt. It seemed that everyone was enjoying themselves so much they had forgotten about her. She felt the sting of tears; apparently even her mum wasn’t bothered about whether she went or not.

She put out her cigarette, and made her way up to her bedroom. It was her own fault; she could easily have got a cab – her family owned most of the cab ranks anyway, it’s not like she would even have had to pay. Stubbornly, she had not wanted to appear as if she was bothered either way about the night.

Now she was feeling sorry for herself, and it was far too late to turn up on her own. As she undressed, she wondered why her
mum had not even returned her call. That wasn’t like her.

Lying in her bed, she felt lonelier than she had ever felt before in her life. She had been a fool; she should have gone to the opening with a smile on her face. She had as much right to be there as anyone – more right in fact than that Bernadette O’Toole. At least she really was family.

Picking up her phone from the bedside cabinet she rang her mum’s mobile number and, when it couldn’t connect, she smiled. Well, that was another mystery solved! Her mum probably couldn’t get a signal in the club. That satisfied her; she didn’t feel so abandoned now.

As she lay back against her pillows, she wondered if Petey was having a good night. She hoped so. Petey was always making her laugh, always making her feel good about herself; he made life feel exciting. He flirted with her really, and she enjoyed that more than she let on. He teased her, which annoyed her brother Danny, and she couldn’t understand why it angered him so much.

She wished she was older, more Petey’s age. She often played out a scenario in her head before she went to sleep in which she would accidentally bump into him, and he would suddenly look at her as if for the first time, and then that would be it. He would see her as a woman, as someone of note. She was desperate to be seen as a grown up at last, not just little Tania. Even if the impossible did happen, though, she knew her father wouldn’t allow it, let alone her brothers. It was just a dream and life was so unfair.

She wished her mum would come home, it wasn’t like her to stay out this late. After a night out, her mother would make hot drinks for them both and regale her daughter with anecdotes from her night. Tania loved her mum and they were very close. Her mum really understood her, and she was lucky to have her.
Growing up, as she had worked out some of the truth of the Life, her mum had always been there to make her feel better when she was frightened.

Well, at least her mother would give her the highlights of the evening, whether she wanted them or not. She really wished she had just gone now, and enjoyed the night for what it was. She knew it would have been a good night out; her friends would all have been jealous that she had even been there, let alone a part of the management, so to speak.

She sighed sadly as the truth finally dawned on her. She had really shot herself in the foot; she had passed up the chance to be treated as a grown up at last. She had not even had the sense to see that until it was too late.

Terrence Allen was, as usual, holding court; he knew more jokes than Frank Carson, and he loved nothing more than telling them. He was in a pub on Southend Seafront with his brother Billy – a pub that was owned by the Baileys. He had been in there since early evening, a fact that could be corroborated by at least twenty people. Now they were enjoying a lock-in.

He was pissed, but not so pissed he didn’t know what he was doing. He was actually having a good time. He was in terrific company; they were all like-minded men and, more importantly, they were Faces. These were men the Baileys would listen to, and they would each swear on a stack of Bibles that the Allens were in their company when the bomb went off outside the club. Peter Bailey would be spread all over the West End like a paper chase before the night was over.

That just left Daniel, who would guess pretty sharpish that he was living on borrowed time. Peter Bailey’s son would be shrewd enough to keep Daniel in line until such time as it was safe to remove him as well. Daniel Bailey would have his suspicions, that was a definite. But it would be a while before he had anything remotely concrete to act on.

Terry Allen was pleased with himself; he had planned this down to the last detail and, after tonight, certain people would know that he was not a man to cross. He was already euphoric. It felt fucking good, there was no doubting that.

As he ordered another round of drinks, he saw Dessie Graham, the landlord of the pub, walk into the bar area and, smiling widely, he said cockily, ‘You all right, mate? You look like you’ve lost a tenner and found a pound.’

The man ignored him and, unplugging the jukebox, he waited patiently for everyone in the pub to stop talking before he said quietly, ‘There’s been a car bomb in London. Lena Bailey, Daniel’s wife, has been killed.’

No one said a word. A few of the women made choking noises as the enormity of the woman’s demise hit them, and Terrence Allen could almost feel the genuine shock and horror of the people around him as a physical thing.