Barking Boy Page 16

  “I’m warning you, gal. Look at me once more like that, and I’ll bite your fucking nose off.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Gary cried. “Ain’t it enough that you’ve driven her away?” He swiped at the tears rolling down his cheeks.

  Tommy threw up his arms as he looked across to Jimmy. “Talk to him, will you? Knock some sense into that thick skull of his, before I end up losing my rag with him again.”

  “Gal,” Jimmy blew out his cheeks. Already, bruising was beginning to form across their younger brother’s cheeks, after he’d had to pull Tommy off him just moments earlier. “She ain’t keeping it, so stop trying to protect her. Now, tell us exactly what you’ve told her about all of us. Does she know about the bank job?”

  Gary gulped down the lump in his throat, choking him. He watched through narrowed eyes, as his elder brother paced the floor of the office, and felt nothing but hatred toward him. “She knows everything, are you happy now? And I hope she does go to the old bill. It’s what you deserve for what you’ve done to me. You’ve ruined my life.”

  Springing forward, Tommy knocked over the chairs, in his haste to get to his younger brother. He slammed himself heavily into Gary’s body, causing them to both tumble to the floor, bringing the desk and stacks of paperwork down on top of them.

  Punch after punch, Tommy pummelled his fists into Gary, despite Jimmy’s best efforts to pull him off.

  “Stop! Enough!” Jimmy roared, as he slung his arms around Tommy’s waist in a final attempt to pull him away. “He’s had enough.”

  Falling backwards across Jimmy, Tommy kicked out at Gary one last time for good measure. He blew out his cheeks. The exertion had caused his heart to beat wildly in his chest. His dark hair was wet from sweat, as he fell onto his side and pushed himself into a sitting position, whilst Jimmy scrambled from underneath him.

  “Fucking hell, Tommy, what have you done?” Jimmy’s eyes were wide, as he looked back at his brother.

  Tommy remained silent. He sat with his head bowed, waiting for his heart to once again reach a steady rhythm.

  “Tommy,” Jimmy’s heart was in his mouth. “What have you done to him?”

  Looking up, Tommy looked to Jimmy, then across to his younger brother’s broken body. Finally, he forced himself to speak. “Is he …?” He left the sentence unfinished.

  Crouching down, Jimmy pressed his fingers to Gary’s neck, checking for a pulse.

  “Well?” Tommy’s voice began to rise. He crawled across the strewn paperwork, stopping just inches away from Gary’s lifeless body. “Is he alive?”

  “I don’t know!” Panic swept within Jimmy, as he shook Gary awake. “I can’t fucking tell.” He looked to Tommy. “Do something! You have a look. Is he breathing?”

  Tommy pushed Jimmy aside. He brought his ear to Gary’s face. Breathe, he silently begged of his brother. As much as he was angry with Gary, he hadn’t meant to kill him. He pushed his ear down even farther, and almost cried with relief when he could feel Gary’s laboured breath against his cheek. “He’s alive.”

  “Will he be all right?” Jimmy let out his breath. He hadn’t even realised he’d been holding it in until now.

  “Do I look like a fucking doctor? How would I know? Pass me a phone.”

  Taking his own mobile phone out of his jacket pocket, Jimmy passed it across.

  Tommy tapped in a number. He brought the phone to his ear and waited for it to be answered. “Mad Dog,” he said into the mouth piece. “We’ve got a problem. I need your help.”

  Mad Dog Harris took one look at Gary and shook his head. “Fuck me, lad, what have you done to him?”

  Tommy looked to the floor, as shame flooded through him. “It just got out of hand.”

  “Out of hand?” Mad Dog remarked. “This is a bit more than out of hand, Tommy lad. You’ve battered him to within an inch of his life.”

  “Can you sort him out? Take him to yours for a bit, even if it’s just for a few weeks? I can’t let me mum see him like this. Here, take this and get him something from the chemist shop. Buy him whatever he needs.” Tommy thrust a handful of crisp ten pound notes into the older man’s hand.

  “Fuck me, Tommy. He needs a bit more than a bottle of paracetamol. He needs to go to the hospital, lad.” He stood thinking for a few moments. “How about I drop him off at the nearest accident and emergency and let them deal with him? I could say I found him on the roadside?”

  Rubbing at his temples, Tommy leant back against the wooden desk. His shoulders dropped as despair flooded through him. “We can’t do that. They’ll phone the old bill. Please mate, take him to yours and sort him out for me.”

  “How do you expect me to sort this out? I’m not a miracle worker. What the fuck am I supposed to do with him?” Mad Dog’s voice began to rise, as he peered down at Gary closely. “Is he even breathing?”

  “He groaned just before you got here,” Jimmy answered, looking down at Gary. “But that’s about it. He hasn’t moved at all.”

  Against his better judgement, Mad Dog nodded his head. “I’m warning you now though, Tommy. This’ll be on your head if it all goes tits up. I don’t want you coming down on me like a ton of bricks.”

  “I know and I won’t. This is my call.”

  “Come on then, lads, give me a hand getting him up.”

  With difficulty, the three men hauled Gary up from the floor. Tommy and Jimmy slung their younger brother’s arms around their shoulders. Still unconscious, Gary’s head fell onto his chest. He was a dead weight. They moved forward, Gary’s feet dragging behind him. “This ain’t gonna work,” Tommy stated, out of breath. “Jimmy, you’ll have to get his feet. I’ll carry the top half.”

  Finally, they managed to negotiate their way out of the office, side stepping the broken chair and strewn contents of the desk. “I’m telling you, Tommy, if he croaks it, we’re done for.”

  “Don’t you think I already know that?” Tommy spat, once they had managed to push and pull Gary into the car. “Jimmy, you’ll have to go with Mad Dog and help get him out. I’ll stay here. We need to make things look normal, otherwise Mum and Stace will get suspicious if all three of us go on the missing list.” The two men nodded their heads. “Don’t forget to let me know what happens, no matter how bad it is.”

  Tommy gave Gary one last glance, before banging his fist on the car roof, indicating for Mad Dog to drive away. He stood outside in the yard, as the evening sky turned to darkness, with just his thoughts for company. Jimmy had told him months ago something wasn’t right with Gary. He should have taken heed of the warning, he realised that now. He looked up at the night sky, before blowing out his cheeks. What a fucking mess everything was, and there was just one person at the centre of it all, Bethany fucking Johnson.

  Wandering back inside the office, he looked around him at the chaos he had created, and had to resist the urge to not finish what he’d started, and smash the entire office to pieces. Instead, he took deep breaths, sat down on the floor, and held his head in his hands. He was scared all right, scared that Gary wouldn’t wake up, scared he’d have to tell their mum Gary was dead, scared Stacey would leave him all over again. His eyes began to glisten with tears, and he let them fall freely onto his cheeks. With his head bent, he sat for hours contemplating how he could get out of the situation he was in, only to realise there was no answer. His only saving grace would be for Gary to not only wake up, but to wake up with no permanent damage. It was a scary thought.

  As the plane began to climb the night sky, Bethany Johnson looked across at her father. He hadn’t said a single word to her for hours. His lips were set in a tight line, his expression hard.

  She had never been scared of her daddy before. She had never seen him for the hard man that he was. He had only ever been gentle with her. She swallowed deeply, before turning her head and looking out the window at the tiny lights from streetlamps, houses and cars below. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t. All she felt was numbness. It was th
e shock of seeing her father’s rage, it had to be, she told herself.

  Instinctively, Bethany knew that nothing would ever be the same between them again. The fact that she had a Carter growing inside her was enough to tell her that. Her father would always remember what she was, a whore.

  Her thoughts went to her unborn child. She didn’t want it, she would never want it. The hatred she felt for her own flesh and blood was so strong, she could feel it ooze out of her pores. She blamed the child for Tommy’s own hatred of her. If only the child didn’t exist, if only it hadn’t been conceived, she may still have been able to win him over. In fact, she knew she would have been able to. Even after all this time, Bethany was still in denial. Her obsession with Tommy Carter was all consuming. It ate away at her like a cancer. She was nothing without him; she was an empty shell that only he could fill.

  With his mobile phone clutched in his hand, Tommy chewed nervously on his thumb nail. For all intent and purposes, he looked outwardly calm. His mind, however, was in turmoil. Every few minutes, he glanced down at the phone, waiting with baited breath for news on his brother’s condition. How he managed to smile and hold a conversation with his wife and family, he had no idea.

  Leaping up from his position on the sofa, Tommy raced out of the house and made his way toward the end of the back garden. He glanced nervously back toward the house. He watched through the window as his mum busied herself in the kitchen, and he turned his back to her, hoping and praying the call was about to bring him good news. His heart began to beat wildly in his chest, as he looked down at Jimmy’s name flashing up on the mobile screen.

  “Jimmy,” he answered the call. He could feel a tightening at the back of his throat, as he began to pace backwards and forwards. “How is he?” he asked, his breath coming in short bursts. As Jimmy spoke, Tommy sank to his knees and clawed at a handful of grass. The evening dew left his hand and his jeans wet, as he knelt down on the damp ground, but he didn’t care. He felt a sense of relief flood through him. Gary was awake and had spoken, so there was no brain damage. Gary was going to make it. He looked up at the sky. He’d never been a religious man, but he thanked God, thanked Allah, thanked everyone he could think of for making everything turn out okay.

  Chapter Eighteen

  1992

  The Ilford Palais, in Ilford, Essex, was where the twins, Sonny and Mitchel, were hosting their eighteenth birthday.

  After paying their five-pound admittance fee, with a confident air, all five of the elder Carter brothers strolled into the venue. They were good looking men and dressed impeccably. The fact that they had money, and a lot of money at that, oozed out of them. They attracted admiring glances from the flocks of women who stood around in groups, waiting to catch the eye of a man, in the hopes of getting their drinks paid for. And if they were really lucky, a quick cop off or a shag around the back of the club, would be the highlight of their night.

  The brothers made their way toward the bar. The dated, patterned carpet was sticky underneath their feet. Taking out his wallet, Tommy waited in line to be served. “This place is a fucking shit hole,” he stated, looking around him at the grimy club. “Didn’t I say we should have gone to The Soho Club instead? Look at them.” He nodded his head toward the revellers on the dance floor. “They’ve shovelled that many pills down their neck, most of ‘em are out of their fucking nut.”

  Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. “It’s where the twins wanted to go, bruv. Who are we to argue with that?”

  Tommy screwed up his face. “Fuck me! Even the khazi’s in my club are better than this dump. Oi.” Never one to have much patience, he shouted over to the barman. “We’re still waiting to get fucking served over here.”

  Aiden Coleman made his way down the bar. “What can I get you?” he shouted above the music, turning his ear toward Tommy so he could hear him better.

  Nudging Jimmy in his side, Tommy forced his brother to turn and face him. “What does everyone want?”

  “Five bottles of Bud.” The words caught in Jimmy’s throat. He recognised the barman immediately, and turned back to the dance floor to compose himself.

  Tommy passed across a twenty-pound note, and handed the bottles out to his brothers. “Here,” he nudged Jimmy again. Even in the dimly lit club, he could see Jimmy’s cheeks were flushed. He eyed his brother suspiciously. “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  Tommy held his hand out for his change. His eyes missed nothing and he noted the barman’s eyes flick toward Jimmy. “Do you fucking know him?” he asked his brother, jerking his head in the direction of Aiden.

  “Nah,” Jimmy shook his head. He knew him all right. It was the very same barman who’d worked in The White Horse when he and Gary had gone to collect a debt from Ted Marsden.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Tommy gulped down his beer. The club was heaving with customers and the dance floor vibrated underneath their feet from the heavy base of the music system.

  Thirty minutes later, Tommy was back at the bar. As he waited in line, he watched as a man he assumed was the manager, flanked with a heavy at his side, emptied out the cash from the tills. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, as he stood watching their every move. “Jimmy,” he called out with a jerk of his head, indicating for his brother to join him.

  Pushing his way through the crowd of revellers on the dance floor, Jimmy lifted his eyebrows. “What’s up?”

  “Look,” Tommy said, nodding his head toward the manager. “This place must take a fortune.”

  Jimmy looked around him. “You’d think they’d spruce the place up a bit then, wouldn’t you? Look at the fucking carpet. I’m sure nan and grandad had the same one, and that was back in the seventies.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes. “Forget the fucking carpet, look,” he stated, nodding his head toward the manager. He kept his voice low. “That’s the third till they’ve emptied and there’s another bar upstairs.”

  “And?”

  Tommy grinned. He glanced around him before answering. “There’s a lot of dough in this place, and trust me, bruv, it’s ours for the taking.”

  Jimmy began to laugh. “Does your brain never switch off?”

  “Nope.” Tommy winked. He went back to watching the manager and the heavy. The idea of the next robbery was now planted firmly in his mind.

  Despite taking the contraceptive pill, Stacey had fallen pregnant for a third time. Holding his newborn son in the hospital, Stacey had turned toward her husband. “This is it now, Tommy. I don’t want any more kids. There’s only one thing for it. You’ll have to have a vasectomy.”

  Tommy jerked his head toward her, his eyes wide. “Like fuck I am.”

  Stacey burst out laughing. She’d already known he would say that. “It’s all right for you, you don’t have to give birth. But seriously, Tommy, we’ll have to think of something. Three is definitely enough for us.”

  Tommy nodded his head. As much as their second son, Jake, was a welcomed surprise, she was right. Three kids were more than enough for them. “We’ll sort it out, Stace. Don’t worry, babe.”

  With three kids under the age of five, Stacey sighed, as she now pushed yet another load of dirty clothes into the washing machine just a few days after the newborn had been brought home. She filled the drawer with a generous measure of washing powder and fabric softener, then pushed on the power button.

  Leaning against the open kitchen door, Stacey watched as Karen and Liam played in the back garden. As usual, little Karen was taking charge of their games, causing Stacey to smile. “Play nicely,” she called out to them.

  They were now living in their own home. As Tommy had promised, he’d bought her the house she’d wanted, the one which had been up for sale just two doors down from her mum’s and dad’s.

  She heard him now, padding down the stairs, and she glanced at her watch. “So, you’ve finally risen then? You do know it’s nearly lunchtime!”

  Tommy groaned. He brought his hand up to his head. “D
on’t start, Stace, I’ve got a headache.”

  “Hangover, more like it, you mean.” There was a hint of humour in her voice. “The bleeding racket you made coming in last night, I’m surprised you didn’t wake the kids up.”

  “Where are they?” Tommy sat down at the kitchen table and he held his head in his hands. “Have we got any painkillers?”

  Shaking her head at her husband’s antics, Stacey walked across the kitchen and took a bottle of paracetamol from the cupboard. “Jakes’s upstairs sleeping, and Karen and Liam are playing in the garden.” She handed over two tablets and a glass of water. “As usual, your daughter is bossing Liam around.”

  Swallowing down the tablets, Tommy grinned. “She takes after her mother.”

  “Oi!” Stacey playfully slapped her husband around the back of the head. “Less of your cheek, Tommy Carter. I was thinking we could go over to your mum’s and dad’s tonight, treat them to a takeaway, what do you reckon?”

  Tommy shook his head. “I can’t tonight. I need to work.” He noted the glance Stacey gave him, and explained himself further. “I’ve got a meeting tonight, but if it ends early, then we’ll go over to me mum’s and dad’s, okay?”

  Stacey began to laugh. “Are you even going to be in a fit state to go to work?”

  Tommy nodded his head. There was nothing like planning a robbery to cure his hangover.

  “No.” Mad Dog held up his hands, cutting off Tommy’s words. “No way, Tommy. Not there. Not the Ilford Palais, lad.”

  Throwing up his arms, Tommy leant back in his seat. “Why the fuck not?” He glanced across to his brothers, as they stood leaning against the walls of the scrap yard office. “The place is heaving with customers. They’re raking it in. We were there last night, tell him Jimmy.”

  Jimmy nodded his head. “He’s right, the place is heaving.”

  Mad Dog sat forward in his seat. “Freddie Smith runs the doors there, and that’s aggro we don’t need.”