Head of the Firm
Caz Finlay

One More Chapter

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Caz Finlay 2020

Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Caz Finlay asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008405090

Ebook Edition © August 2020 ISBN: 9780008405083

Version: 2020-08-07

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Epilogue

Thank you for reading…

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About the Author

Also by Caz Finlay

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Prologue

Zak Miller sat patiently on the stolen motorbike with the engine running while he waited for his target to approach. His heart thumped in his chest and the blood pounding in his ears seemed to reverberate off the sides of his motorcycle helmet as its soft leather pushed against his ears. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and focused instead on the rhythmic sound of his breathing – calm and steady, just like he’d been taught. What he was about to do was incredibly risky. It would change the landscape of the Liverpool underworld for ever. The ramifications would be felt far and wide and for years to come. Not only was his target one of the most dangerous and powerful individuals to ever walk the streets of Liverpool, it was also broad daylight, which ensured there were plenty of potential witnesses around. It was a calculated risk, and one that Zak was willing to take. Given that his target was particularly difficult to get close to, and was rarely alone, he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to strike when he happened to know exactly where they would be.

Zak prided himself on being the very best at what he did, and he was getting very good money for this particular job. Money that would set him up for life. It would have to. He planned to disappear pretty quickly once this was over.

He could only hear the loud, rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat now as his target approached. Pulling down the visor of his helmet, he took the Beretta handgun out of his inside jacket pocket and edged the bike forward. A few more seconds and he would have a perfect shot. He watched as his intended victim smiled to themselves – they didn’t have a fucking clue what was coming. As their paths crossed he raised the gun. By the time his target had noticed him, it was too late. He fired one clean shot straight through his victim’s neck. Before they had even hit the floor, Zak hit the throttle and sped off out of sight.

Chapter One
Three Weeks Earlier

Grace Carter looked up from her phone as her husband Michael walked over and sat on the sofa beside her.

‘He’s fast asleep now, just like his big sister,’ he said with a grin, referring to their four-month-old son, whom he had just placed in his Moses basket.

She returned his smile as she put her phone on the coffee table in front of them. ‘You are a genius, Michael Carter. He never settles that easily for me. You must have the magic touch.’

‘Yeah. And that’s not the only magic I can do with these hands, you know?’ he said with a wink.

‘Really? What other magic can you do? I can’t recall.’

‘What? You don’t remember? It was only this morning, Grace.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Just over twelve hours ago in fact.’

Grace pulled his face to hers and kissed him. ‘Oh yes, I remember now.’

He put an arm around her shoulder and she nestled against him. ‘So how was work today?’

‘Oh, you know what it’s like. Everyone has a problem, but no one brings any solutions.’

‘Speaking of problems and solutions, I heard another club got raided last night. Did you manage to find out any more about if and when they’re likely to hit Jake’s club?’

Michael shook his head. ‘Not really. But it seems like the plod are insistent on raiding every club in town. You know they like to have a crackdown every so often. It keeps the mayor and the licensing board happy. So, it’s only a matter of time before they target The Blue Rooms as well.’

‘Well, you’d better tell the boys to keep their extracurricular activities to a minimum for a few weeks then,’ she said with a sigh. ‘We don’t want any of our bouncers getting arrested. We’re supposed to be legitimate now, aren’t we?’

‘I’ll have a word with them tomorrow.’

Grace and Michael owned Cartel Securities, a successful business with security contracts across the country. Michael had started the firm himself a couple of years earlier, and at first he’d focused on the thriving Liverpool nightlife scene as well as one-off event management. The business was now considered the premier security company for Liverpool and Merseyside. However, it wasn’t until they’d been married, sixteen months ago, that Grace had become a partner and had taken the business in a whole new direction. It had been both her and Michael’s idea to try and keep the business legitimate. It had worked for the most part, and they’d secured themselves lucrative contracts with shopping centres, building sites and hospitals across the North West and North East.

If that wasn’t enough to keep them busy, they were also co-owners of two successful Italian restaurants with Michael’s brother Sean: one in the up-and-coming Baltic Market area, and one in the heart of Liverpool’s Albert Dock. The latter, Sophia’s Kitchen, was their flagship. Their pride and joy. It had cost them an arm and a leg to kit out with the finest furniture and state-of-the-art kitchens, but it had all been worth it. Now, Sophia’s Kitchen was the hottest place to eat in Liverpool. Their weekends were booked months in advance and the place was permanently packed to the rafters. Grace had been involved in every detail until Oscar was born. Then she’d promised herself at least six months off to spend with Oscar and her daughter Belle. Michael had been happy to take over the reins while she did so, telling her to take all the time she needed. But, although she was technically on maternity leave, Grace was still busy making plans to open a wine bar in the next twelve months.

However, the legitimisation of the Carter empire appeared to have bypassed the younger generation, and together Grace’s son, Jake, and Michael’s twin boys, Paul and Connor, had taken over Grace and Michael’s previous mantle of being the principal suppliers of cocaine, ecstasy and weed, as well as whatever else anyone needed to get their hands on, to the Merseyside area. This also involved using Grace and Michael’s bouncers as dealers when the need arose, which was fine as a rule, except when the police and the licensing board were sniffing around looking for reasons to close places down.

The Blue Rooms was Jake’s club, left to him by his father, Grace’s ex-husband, Nathan Conlon. When Nathan had owned the place, it had been a seedy lap-dancing club – which had suited Nathan’s character down to the ground. To Jake’s credit, when he had first taken over, he’d turned the place into one of the most successful clubs in Liverpool. And with Jake’s wife, Siobhan, at the helm, it had become one of the leading Liverpool nightspots. But since Siobhan had left work to have their daughter, Isla, a year earlier, the place had lost some of its class. It was still successful, but more often than not it was dogged by rumours of drugs and brawling, and more than once Grace or Michael had had to call in favours from the various officials they had on their payroll to stop the place from being closed down.

‘Any chance that our kids will actually listen though?’ Grace said with a sigh.

‘Who knows?’ Michael replied with a shrug. ‘You do realise they’re invincible, don’t you?’

Grace laughed. ‘Oh yes, of course. I forgot about that.’

‘I remember when I used to think I was invincible. Seems like a lifetime ago now,’ he said with a smile.

‘Now you’re all old and wise,’ Grace said as she nudged him in the ribs. ‘So they definitely won’t listen to you.’

‘Well, if they don’t listen to me, I’ll call in the big guns – you.’

They usually did listen to her, but all the same, Grace gave a sigh. ‘I do worry about them though, Michael. What if one day they really do stop listening to us?’

Michael turned his head to look at her. ‘They know what they’re doing, Grace. They’re not stupid. Young, and quite possibly a bit arrogant, but not stupid. They’re not out there doing anything that we didn’t do ourselves at one time or another.’

She nodded at him, but wasn’t entirely convinced.

‘And besides,’ Michael added, ‘they will always listen to you.’

Before she could respond, he silenced her with a kiss.

Chapter Two

Connor Carter closed his eyes and leaned back against the leather headrest in the back seat of his Range Rover, while his girlfriend, Jazz, rode him like her life depended on it. Despite being nine years older than him, she had the most incredible body he had ever seen. And she could do things with it that made his toes curl. Since he’d met her five months earlier on a night out in Manchester, he’d been completely besotted with her. The only potential blot on the landscape was that she was a married woman. And not just any married woman. But when he was with Jazz, Connor didn’t care. He’d convinced himself they were too clever to get caught. They were always discreet. They used his car, or cheap hotels in the arse end of nowhere. Connor hadn’t told anyone about Jazz except for Paul, and he would trust Paul with his life.

‘Fuck, Jazz,’ he breathed when they were finished. ‘You’re something else, girl. Do you know that?’

‘I do my best,’ she purred at him as she licked her lips.

The vibration of Connor’s mobile phone in his pocket put an end to his post-sex haze. Jazz lifted her thighs off his as he reached into his pocket to retrieve it.

‘What?’ he snapped as he answered the phone to Gary Mac, one of his best soldiers.

‘Sorry, Boss, but there’s been a problem at the collection point. Someone must have known we were going to be there. They were waiting inside the container for us.’

‘What? Is everyone okay? Is the gear okay?’

‘We’ve got the gear. But Vinnie Black’s been shot in the stomach.’

‘Shit!’ Connor snapped as he jumped up, sending Jazz sprawling onto the seat beside him. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed to her.

‘Where is Vinnie now?’

‘The lads took the gear to the warehouse, and I dropped Vinnie at A and E. I left the stolen plates on the van, and I was in and out, Boss, so no one will know who dropped him off. But we couldn’t just leave him like that.’

‘No, of course you couldn’t. Any idea who was behind it?’

‘Yep. I’m back with the lads now and we’ve got two of the little fuckers.’

‘Nice one, Gary. I’ll call Paul and Jake and we’ll be there as soon as.’

‘Sound. We’re at the warehouse.’

‘Sound,’ Connor replied and ended the call. He turned to Jazz. ‘I’m so sorry, babe, but something’s come up.’

‘It’s okay,’ Jazz said with a sigh. ‘I’d better be getting back soon anyway before he notices I’m missing. Can you drop me back at my car?’

‘Of course, babe,’ he said before giving her one last kiss. Then, while Jazz got herself dressed, he dialled his brother’s phone number.

Jake Conlon looked at the quivering man on the floor in front of him. Ian Thomas was a scumbag known locally as The Thrush, because he was so fucking irritating. He was a part-owner of a knocking shop, the aptly named Number 69 on the Dock Road, and with Jake and the Carter twins’ permission he dealt drugs from there too – drugs that they sold him for a good price. He sold to the girls mostly and Jake supposed they needed something to get through the day when the likes of Ian Thomas and his mates were their clientele. The day before, Paul had received a phone call from one of the girls, Sasha. He and Connor had gone to school with her and she’d been a reliable source of information for them since she’d started working at Number 69 three years earlier. It was surprising the level of information that was divulged to the girls by some of the punters. So, seeing the potential business opportunity, the Carter twins had ensured that every girl in Number 69 had become their eyes and ears, and, by association, Jake’s too. Sasha had told him that Ian had been taking the good-quality merchandise that they prided themselves on, and had been cutting it with all kinds of nasty shit. Two of the girls had become so ill they’d been hospitalised, and one had almost died. Paul had promised her that they would sort it as soon as they could – and so here they were.

‘Please, Mr Conlon,’ Ian snivelled. ‘I didn’t do anything with your drugs.’

‘What? Are you calling my esteemed colleague a liar then?’ He turned to Paul, who was sitting on the bonnet of Ian’s battered Fiat Panda, holding a baseball bat as though it was his baby. ‘He says it wasn’t him, Paul. He thinks you’re a liar.’

‘No!’ Ian wailed. ‘I never said that. I never, Mr Carter.’

‘Well, if it wasn’t you, then who has been cutting our drugs with rat poison?’ Paul said as he jumped off the bonnet and sauntered over to Jake and Ian.

‘I don’t know,’ Ian cried. ‘I don’t know. But please, it wasn’t me.’

‘If it wasn’t you, then you must know who it was. Because if you don’t, that means you’ve been leaving our good-quality gear unattended. Either way, we’re not happy,’ Jake snarled.

Suddenly the sound of the Z Cars theme tune filled the air as Paul’s mobile phone started ringing.

‘All right, Con?’ Paul said as he answered.

Jake listened to the one-sided phone call and realised there was something else requiring their attention.

Paul hung up the phone. ‘As fun as it is to watch Ian piss himself, we don’t have time for this, Jake,’ he said sternly.

‘Shame,’ Jake replied.

Ian looked at his captors with a mixture of fear and relief on his face. Jake smiled as he realised Ian had obviously misunderstood Paul’s instruction.

Paul handed Jake the baseball bat. Ian scuttled backwards until he reached the brick wall and could go no further. He held up his hands in defence and let out a bloodcurdling scream as Jake brought the bat down. His hands and fingers took the brunt of the first blow so Jake struck him again for good measure, this time across his shoulders and chest. For his parting shot, Jake kicked Ian in the face, breaking his jaw.

‘Your share of Number 69 is ours now, Ian. Don’t go there again,’ Paul reminded him as they walked away, leaving him howling in pain.

Chapter Three

Jake, Paul and Connor arrived at the warehouse on Canal Street together, to find Gary Mac with his two sons standing in a semi-circle. In front of them were two young lads, who looked no older than eighteen, strapped to chairs with cable ties and gagged with gaffer tape.

‘Fucking hell. It looks like Fifty Shades of Grey in here,’ Paul said with a chuckle.

‘Are these the fuckers who tried to rob us?’ Jake asked incredulously.

Gary and his sons nodded. ‘There were two more but they got away,’ Gary said.

‘You get a look at them?’ Connor asked.

‘Only a fleeting glimpse. Didn’t recognise them.’

‘Thanks, Gary. You and the boys can get off now.’

Gary signalled his sons to follow him. ‘Night, fellas,’ he said on his way out.

Jake stared at the two young lads in front of them. Their eyes wide in terror. Their legs trembling. One of them had a suspicious wet stain on the crotch of his jeans. Ordinarily, a scene like this would be right up Jake and the twins’ street, and they would think nothing of making an example of anyone who tried to steal from them. But these two looked like a pair of terrified kids.

As if reading his mind, Connor spoke. ‘What the fuck are we gonna do with these two?’ he said with an exaggerated sigh.

Jake shrugged. ‘Beats me, lad,’ he said as pulled up one of the chairs and sat down. ‘Paul? Any ideas?’

‘We could just shoot them in the head?’ Paul suggested, although Jake knew he had no intention of doing so. They had no guns on them for a start.

The two captive youths began to shake their heads furiously.

‘Let’s hear what they have to say for themselves then,’ Jake said with a nod.

Paul approached the two youths and ripped the gaffer tape from their mouths.

‘So?’ Paul snapped.

Immediately the two of them started babbling. All Jake could make out were the words sorry, melon and dare.

‘For fuck’s sake!’ Connor muttered and walked away.

‘Oy!’ Jake shouted as he stood up and walked over to them. ‘You weren’t fucking crying earlier when you shot one of our mates, were you? You pair of spineless little pricks.’ He kicked one of the chairs, almost sending it toppling over. ‘Calm the fuck down and tell us who you are and who you’re working for.’

The one who’d pissed himself continued to cry but did so quietly, snot and tears pouring down his face. The other one, who had a mass of curly blonde hair, seemed a little more composed, so Jake focused on him.

‘You! Curly! Tell us who you’re working for,’ Jake demanded.

Curly shook his head. ‘No one,’ he stuttered. ‘No one, I swear.’

‘Fuck off!’ Paul snapped. ‘You expect us to believe you and him, and your two mates who done a runner and left you in the shit, independently decided to rob our gear? Knew where it was coming in and ambushed some of our best lads? Do you think we’re fucking stupid?’

‘We didn’t know it was yours,’ Curly snivelled. ‘We just thought we were going to nick a bit of weed from some lads. We had no idea what it really was, or that it was yours.’

By this point Connor had walked back over to them.

‘This one’s telling us some fucking porkies,’ Paul said to his brother.

‘He’s not,’ the other one suddenly wailed.

‘Oh, I forgot you were even here. Stopped crying for your mummy now?’ Jake said to him.

‘I’m telling the truth. I swear,’ Curly pleaded.

‘Tell us what happened then. Everything. Including who shot Vinnie,’ Connor demanded

Curly took a deep breath. ‘Someone told us—’

‘Who?’ Jake snapped.

‘We don’t know his name. We met him in a pub in Birkenhead. We’d never seen him before.’

Jake raised an eyebrow at the twins. This was getting more ludicrous by the second.

‘Look, I can explain, I swear. Just let me explain,’ Curly pleaded.

‘Go on then,’ Jake replied. ‘Let’s hear your fairy-tale. But I want details, Curly. The more detail you give me, the more likely it is that you will live to see the light of another day.’

Curly licked his lips. ‘Me and my mates, Jay’—he indicated the sobbing lad beside him at this point—‘and Richie, were drinking in the Brass Balance pub in Birkenhead when we started to talking to this fella at the bar. We’d never seen him in there before.’

Jake opened his mouth to ask a question, but Curly pre-empted him. ‘He was late thirties. Average build. Clean shaven. Brown hair. He was wearing a Hugo Boss tracksuit top. That’s all I remember about him. He said he knew about this load of weed that had been left in a container near the docks, and how it was just sitting there for the taking. He said it was some real good-quality weed. Then, some lad who was a few years above us in school, Kenny Bailey, came in. Kenny’s always been a bit of a nutter so when he heard what this fella was saying, he persuaded us to go and take this weed.’

‘And you thought this was a good idea why?’ Jake snapped.

‘We were off our faces. We’d been doing coke and drinking Jaeger bombs all day. We just wanted some weed.’ He sniffed. ‘We weren’t thinking at all.’

‘So, you’re telling me three of our best men were ambushed by a nutter and three stoners?’ Jake barked.

‘We didn’t ambush them,’ Curly went on. ‘We thought this weed would just be lying there with no one guarding it. We weren’t waiting for anyone. When we saw it was a container full of coke, we thought that maybe something wasn’t adding up, but we were already in it up to our necks by then. We were just going to take some, but then your lads turned up and we panicked. Kenny shot one of them and then we ran.’

The lad beside him shook his head. ‘I fucking told you not to go along with Kenny the Melon,’ he wailed.

‘Where can we find this Kenny the Melon?’ Jake asked.

‘The Brass Balance pub. He’s always in there,’ Curly said.

‘Do you believe this pair of cretins?’ Connor asked.

Jake shook his head. ‘I don’t fucking know. I think someone will be paying Kenny the Melon a visit though, don’t you?’

‘And find out if anyone knows who this fella in the Hugo Boss top is. If he exists!’ Connor added and Paul and Jake nodded in agreement.

‘Exactly how old are you two?’ Jake asked.

‘Eighteen,’ Curly replied.

Connor shook his head and looked at Paul and Jake. ‘We weren’t this fucking green at eighteen, were we?’

‘God, I fucking hope not,’ Jake replied with a laugh.

‘Right then, lads,’ Connor said as he placed one hand on Jake’s shoulder and one on Paul’s. ‘I’m goosed. And I don’t think it’s very fair if all three of us give these two little pricks a kicking, do you?’

Paul shook his head. ‘Like using a sledgehammer to crack a walnut, mate. Yous can get off. I can handle these two.’

‘No, I’ll stay,’ Jake said with a smile. ‘I enjoy watching you work.’

Paul shrugged. ‘Sound.’

‘I’m getting off then. I’ll check on Vinnie, and tell Gary where he can find this Kenny prick.’

Ten minutes later, Curly and his mate stumbled out of the warehouse battered and bruised. They might have had a broken bone or two, but they had also had a very lucky escape. Jake, at least, was content that they would never try to take what was his again.

Chapter Four

Grace walked into the kitchen as Michael was serving up generous portions of scouse to their three older sons, Jake, Paul and Connor.

‘This smells fucking amazing,’ Paul said as he almost stuck his face into the bowl.

‘I haven’t had scouse for weeks,’ Jake said as he plunged his spoon into the hot stew. ‘Thanks, Michael.’

‘Not since the last time you all came for tea,’ Grace said with a smile. Every few weeks one of them would phone up at the arse crack of dawn and ask if they could pop round for tea. When they were reminded they didn’t need to ask, they followed up with a request for a pan of scouse. Grace had to admit, Michael made the best scouse she’d ever tasted. It was even better than her dad’s had been, and that was saying something.

Grace sat on a chair at the big oak table. ‘So, how are things boys? How is business?’

‘Brilliant,’ Paul and Jake said in unison as they stuffed their mouths.

‘All right,’ Connor replied with a shrug.

Grace noted the different responses but didn’t push further. The lads would inevitably tell them everything anyway as the evening wore on.

‘How is the new fella working out, Dad?’ Connor asked before biting off a chunk of crusty buttered bread.

Michael sat down at the table with them. ‘Carl? He’s all right. A bit wet behind the ears, but he’s up for a scrap. Sometimes a bit too up for it, but Murf and the lads will sort him out.’

‘Good,’ said Connor. ‘He can handle himself in the gym, can’t he, Paul?’

‘Yep. Nearly knocked Jake out last week, didn’t he, lad?’ he said as he gave Jake a playful shove.

Jake almost spat his food out of his mouth in his effort to respond. ‘No, he fucking didn’t. Knobhead.’

Grace smiled at their good-natured banter. She loved to see the three of them together. They were step-brothers now as a result of her marriage to Michael, but they acted more like blood brothers.

‘What about the trouble you had with those lads from Birkenhead?’ Grace asked. ‘Did you sort it out?’

‘Yeah. It was just a bunch of kids trying to chance their arm. They had no idea who they were robbing off,’ Jake answered.

‘They won’t be doing it again, anyway,’ Connor assured her.

‘Nope.’ Paul laughed and shook his head.

‘The club’s doing okay too?’ Grace said. ‘I noticed when I looked at the books.’

Jake nodded. ‘Yep. It’s holding its own. It pays everyone’s wages.’

‘Did you sort out that problem I mentioned, Grace?’ Connor asked. ‘I couldn’t work out how to balance the incomings and outgoing last month with that extra money we got in.’

‘Yes. The books are straight now. Everything looks above board,’ she replied.

‘Brilliant. Thanks.’

Grace watched as the boys tucked into their food. It wasn’t long before the talk turned to football and their beloved clubs. Jake and Michael were staunch Evertonians while the twins were diehard Liverpool fans, and the clubs’ legendary rivalry never failed to spark some lively debates. She half listened to their conversation while her mind wandered to Connor’s earlier response to her question about the business. It was a subtle change in his demeanour that she doubted anyone else in the room had even registered. She hoped that it meant nothing, but her gut told her that it was something.

Grace was putting plates into the dishwasher when Connor came into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and took out four beers.

‘Everything okay, Con?’ Grace asked him.

‘Yeah. Why?’ he replied.

‘You just look like there’s something on your mind, that’s all. You didn’t seem as convinced as Jake and Paul that things were going well. I know you’re the one who does most of the boring paperwork stuff. Is something up?’

Connor placed the bottles on the worktop. ‘You know when you get that feeling something’s just not right, Grace?’ he asked. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but I just feel like something’s off.’

‘Any idea what?’

Connor shook his head. ‘No. On the surface, everything looks great. We’re doing better than ever. It’s just a gut feeling I have.’

‘Have you spoken to the other two about it?’ she asked.

‘Yeah. They just think I’m being paranoid. Maybe I am. There’s always gonna be someone out to take what’s ours, isn’t there? It just feels like a storm is coming.’ He picked up the beers and started to laugh. ‘God, I sound like fucking Mystic Meg, don’t I? Don’t tell them two I said anything. Any excuse to take the piss.’

Grace laughed. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Connor was walking out of the door when he stopped and turned around. ‘What do you think, Grace? You ever just get a feeling about something?’

‘All the time.’

‘And what do you do?’

‘In my experience, Connor, you should always trust your gut.’

‘Thought so,’ he said with a sigh. ‘You coming back in?’

‘Yes. Just clearing up a bit. I’ll be through in a minute.’

He disappeared through the doorway. Grace watched him leave the kitchen and leaned against the breakfast bar. On paper, at least, the boys’ business was doing better than ever. The Blue Rooms was thriving and from the money they were turning over on a monthly basis, all of their other businesses were too. But, much like Connor, she also had an uneasy feeling. Perhaps it was because things seemed to be going a little too well, and she never trusted that. The boys had plenty of enemies. It was a given in their line of work. But no one ever challenged them, at least not overtly, and that made Grace cautious. In her experience, when you were the head of the firm, there was always someone trying to take you down. If there was a rival faction trying to take over their turf, then they were doing it in secret, and that was always more worrying. After all, it was much easier to deal with your enemy when you knew who they were.

Chapter Five

Michael Carter leaned back in the leather chair in his office as one of his head doormen, Jack Murphy, or Murf, as he was more commonly known, sat opposite him relaying a tale about one of the new bouncers being caught shagging one of the barmaids in the disabled toilets the night before.

‘It’s not even like he was on his break, Boss. He was supposed to be watching the room.’

Murf had been a bouncer for over twenty years. He was a professional and he didn’t take kindly to young upstarts taking the piss. Michael was usually slightly more forgiving, but he trusted Murf and allowed him to run his door the way he wanted to.

‘So, what do you want to do about it?’ Michael asked, while suppressing a smile. He could imagine Murf’s face turning a violent shade of purple last night as he burst in on young Carl, with his pants around his ankles and a barmaid’s legs wrapped around his waist. ‘Was the barmaid on her break at least?’

Murf stared at him open-mouthed. ‘What? I don’t fucking know. What the fuck’s that got to do with it?’

Michael couldn’t hide his amusement any longer and burst out laughing.

‘Oh, fuck off,’ Murf said with a laugh. ‘You had me going there.’

‘You need to calm down, Murf. You’ll give yourself a stroke.’

‘It just pisses me off when these cheeky little pricks walk around like they’re God’s fucking gift. They don’t understand that we’re a team, Michael, and every single one of them has a part to play in making sure we all go home in one piece at the end of every night.’

‘So? Are you giving him the boot?’

‘Well, that’s why I’m here. What do you think?’

‘I assume you gave him a good kick up the arse last night and docked his pay?’

‘I gave him more than a kick up the arse,’ Murf replied.

Michael shrugged. ‘Personally, I’d give him another chance and see if he learns his lesson. But it’s your door, Murf. It’s your call. It’s you and the lads he’d be letting down if he fucked up when you needed him, not me.’

Murf shook his head and smiled. ‘You’re just a big softie, really, aren’t ya, Boss?’

Before he could reply, Michael looked up to see Grace walking through the open office doorway.

‘There’s not many people who would have the balls to call my husband a big softie, Murf,’ she said good-naturedly as she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

‘Grace,’ he said, standing up to hug her. ‘I didn’t know you were coming in.’

‘Neither did I,’ Michael said with a smile as he stood up too. She walked over to him and he put an arm around her waist. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’

‘Your dad and Sue wanted to take the kids for a few hours, so I thought I’d drop by and see what was going on,’ she said with a shrug.

‘Can’t bear to be away from the place, eh, Grace?’ Murf said.

‘Nah. She can’t bear to be away from me, that’s all, can you, love?’ Michael said with a wink, before giving her a kiss and offering her his seat.

Grace sat down at the desk. ‘So what on earth has happened to make Murf think that you’re a big softie then?’

Grace listened as Murf relayed the story of Carl the bouncer and the barmaid from the previous night and soon the three of them were laughing so hard, Murf almost fell off his chair.

‘Oh, I do miss this,’ Grace said when they regained their ability to speak. ‘No one can tell a tale quite like you, Murf.’

‘You know you can come back any time you like. Don’t think I don’t know you’re always keeping an eye on me anyway,’ Michael said with a smile.

‘But Oscar—’

‘Oscar would be fine. Try a day or two and see how you feel.’

‘It would be great to have you back, Boss,’ Murf added. ‘Someone to keep this fella on his toes.’ He nodded towards Michael.

‘Maybe I’ll think about it,’ she replied. The truth was Grace was torn over her decision to return to work. As difficult as it was at times to be the one who always had to make the tough decisions, it was a role that she had made her own, and one that she had found harder to let go of than she’d expected. There was no escaping the fact that this was her world and she belonged here, but she was also a mum to two young children whom she adored and wanted to protect from all of the potential dangers in the world. She and Michael had chosen the lives they led, and they had acquired more enemies over the years than she cared to admit. There was no one better equipped to protect her children from harm than she was. But being back at the helm and keeping a watchful eye on Jake and the twins was good for all of their sakes. ‘Maybe in a couple of weeks,’ she added with a faint smile.

‘Whenever you’re ready, love,’ Michael said and kissed the top of her head.

Murf was looking at them both with a smile on his face.

‘What are you fucking grinning at?’ Michael said to him.

‘I’m just glad you two finally came to your senses and got together, that’s all,’ he said.

‘And I’m the big softie? You soppy old bastard,’ Michael said to him good-naturedly.

‘You know me, I’m all heart really, Boss,’ Murf said as he stood up. ‘I’ll give that Carl kid one more chance then. If he fucks up again, he’s had it.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Michael replied.

‘I’ll be off then. I need to sort the lads’ wages. Leave you two lovebirds in peace.’

‘It’s nice to see you, Murf,’ Grace said to him.

‘It’s nice to be seen,’ he replied.

‘Close the door on your way out,’ Michael said.

Murf gave a mock bow as he walked out of the office and closed the door as instructed.

As soon as they were alone, Michael sat on the desk beside Grace and pulled her up into his arms. ‘This is a very nice surprise,’ he said as he brushed her hair behind her ear. ‘I thought the most exciting part of my day today was going to be listening to Murf’s sordid tales of bouncers and barmaids.’

‘Well, I’m happy to be of assistance,’ Grace whispered in his ear. ‘Just what exactly were Carl and that barmaid caught doing again?’

‘Murf already told you,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Weren’t you paying attention?’

‘Obviously not. I was too distracted by how good you look in that suit.’

‘Well, maybe I should give you a practical demonstration?’ he growled in her ear.

‘Hmm, now there’s an idea,’ she replied with a grin as he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Chapter Six

Half an hour later, Grace had said goodbye to Michael and was walking through the offices of Cartel Securities, looking for Murf. She found him in his usual spot in the break room, chatting to Edna the cleaner over a mug of coffee. They both looked up as she walked into the room.

‘Hello, Grace, love,’ Edna said as she approached her and pulled her into a warm hug. ‘Murf mentioned you’d popped in. It’s lovely to see you.’

Grace returned Edna’s hug. ‘Thanks, Edna. It’s good to see you too. How’s things?’

‘Oh, I can’t complain, girl,’ she said with a grin. ‘I’d better get on and finish cleaning this place though. I’m meeting our Marg in the Bingo at two. This fella would keep me gassing for hours.’ She gave Murf a nudge in the ribs.

‘Behave yourself. It’s you can’t stop your nattering, Ed,’ he replied good-naturedly.

Edna giggled like a schoolgirl before fluttering her eyelashes and disappearing in a waft of Chanel N°5.

‘You’re such a bloody flirt, Murf,’ Grace said with a smile.

‘Me? It’s all Edna,’ he protested with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I swear if she were twenty years younger, my Carol would have a fight on her hands.’

Grace sat down at the table opposite him.

‘So, how’s things been, Murf? Other than your bouncers getting caught with their pants round their ankles?’

‘It’s all good, Grace. Business is great. But, you already know that.’ He eyed her suspiciously over the rim of his coffee mug as he took a swig.

Grace nodded. ‘You’ve been working The Blue Rooms?’

‘Yep. I always do.’

‘Anything unusual happened there lately?’

‘It’s a nightclub. Unusual stuff happens there all the time. Are you thinking of anything in particular?’ he replied with a frown.

‘No. I’ve just got a feeling, that’s all. Everything seems to be going a little too well, and you know that makes me twitchy.’

‘I can understand that. But things are ticking along nicely, Boss. And there’s been no bother at the club. Well, nothing out of the ordinary anyway.’

‘Okay. But keep your eye out for anything fishy going on, would you?’ she said as she stood up.

‘Of course, Grace. Always,’ Murf assured her.

‘Thanks.’

Grace said her goodbyes for the second time and left the office. As she climbed into her car, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Was it simply that she was such a stranger to happiness that she couldn’t trust it to last? Or had her conversation with Connor the night before caused the growing uneasiness she was suddenly experiencing? No, she’d been feeling like this for a few weeks now, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. An occasional shiver down the spine as though someone had walked over her grave, or a sudden sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, with no idea where it had come from. At first, she’d put it down to the tiredness of looking after a new-born and a toddler. But her chat with Connor had brought it the fore again. Perhaps she wasn’t just tired? Or perhaps both she and Connor were paranoid for no reason?

Whatever the truth of it, her returning to work was now looking more imminent than she’d expected.

Chapter Seven

Connor Carter sat back in his seat and closed his eyes as his brother Paul drove the two of them home. They each had their own apartment on the same landing of a block on Liverpool’s waterfront.

‘What’s the matter with you tonight, face-ache?’ Paul asked him.

‘Nothing. Why?’

‘You’ve been moody for weeks, Con. I thought a pan of scouse at Grace and Dad’s last night would snap you out of it.’

‘I’m fine,’ Connor said with a sigh.

‘You’re not. Is it this bird you’ve been seeing? Is she giving you grief? Coz if she is, bin her off, lad. She’s fucking married anyway.’

Connor glared at his brother. ‘It’s nothing to do with Jazz.’

‘So, there is something then?’

‘Just fucking leave it, will you, Paul?’

‘Con. It’s me, Bro. You can tell me anything. And you usually do. What’s up?’

They stopped at some traffic lights and Connor felt his twin brother’s gaze burning into him.

‘This had better not be about Isla. Is it?’ Paul asked.

Connor glared at him. ‘Course it’s fucking not. Why would it be?’ he snapped.

‘All right. Keep your fucking hair on.’

‘If you must know, I can’t shake this feeling that something’s about to go down. Something just feels off. I know you and Jake think it’s fucking hilarious when I mention it, but I can feel it, Paul. Someone, somewhere, is fucking us over.’

‘Well, if you think that, let’s do some housekeeping then.’

‘What?’

‘It’s about time we did the rounds and made sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to. Might as well start now. It’s only half eight. Phone Jake and tell him to meet us at Eric’s gym.’

After Connor had phoned Jake, he spent the rest of the drive looking out of the window. It was true he did have a bad feeling about something. Maybe it was all the sneaking around with Jazz? The guilt of seeing a married woman? Nope, definitely not that, he decided. He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse or regret about his relationship with Jazz.

As much as he would never admit it to Paul, he had been thinking about Isla a lot. His niece. The daughter of his best mate – Jake. At least that was what everyone thought. But shortly before Isla’s conception, Connor had made an incredibly stupid mistake and screwed Jake’s then girlfriend, Siobhan. She’d announced she was up the duff a few weeks later, and then Jake had married her shortly after. Connor had stood by and let it all play out, knowing there was every chance Siobhan’s baby was his, but unable to say anything because of the huge fallout it would cause in his family. He’d watched one of his best mates marry a woman he didn’t love because he thought it was the right thing to do. Connor had tried to forget about it all, and had convinced himself that the child was Jake’s. He’d only been with Siobhan once – surely the odds were in Jake’s favour.

Then Isla had been born and as soon as he’d seen her, Connor had been convinced that she was his own flesh and blood. He saw her every week at his dad and Grace’s house, and each week he thought about how she was starting to look more and more like him. He wondered how nobody else had noticed the resemblance and lived in constant fear of someone picking up on it and asking awkward questions. He’d tried staying away for a few weeks, but everyone had given him so much grief about missing family Sunday dinners that he’d given up soon after. The guilt of that was what was eating away at him. He was sure it was only a matter of time before someone found out. There was no one he could talk to about it. The possibility that he might be Isla’s father was a secret so explosive he could never let it out. Paul knew about his encounter with Siobhan – he and Connor told each other everything – but it wasn’t a topic that was usually up for discussion. On the odd occasion Connor had brought it up, Paul had shut him down, probably because it made him feel disloyal to Jake, and Connor could understand that, so he’d stopped mentioning it altogether. But keeping it all to himself was killing him. The one person who would know exactly what to do, the one person, apart from his dad, whose advice he sought on almost everything, was Grace. And there wasn’t a chance in hell he could ever risk her finding out.

Chapter Eight

‘Come on, Jake, stop dicking about on your phone and get out here. It’s fucking freezing,’ Connor shouted from the garden of Nipper Jackson’s semi-detached house in West Derby. ‘You said this cunt would be in.’

Jake Conlon grinned as he put his phone into his coat pocket and slammed the car door shut. ‘He is. Trust me. He’s just not expecting a visit tonight, that’s all. He’ll have taken one look at your ugly mugs and barricaded himself in.’

‘Well, it’s definitely about time that we met the elusive Nipper then, isn’t it?’ Connor snapped as he shuffled his feet in the cold. ‘Let’s get in there and tell him to get the fucking kettle on.’

Jake laughed as he walked past Connor and Paul Carter. Using his fist, he banged loudly on the front door. ‘Nipper. It’s Jake,’ he shouted. ‘Let us in, it’s fucking Baltic out here.’

A few seconds later, the sound of heavy bolts being drawn back signalled Nipper had heard Jake’s request. He popped his head around the door and eyed the three of them warily. ‘Sorry, Jake, I didn’t know who it was,’ he mumbled.

‘Not a problem, Nipper,’ Jake said as he pushed past him through the doorway and into the warm house.

Paul and Connor followed him inside while Nipper watched silently.

‘Any chance of a brew, lad?’ Jake asked.

‘Yeah, we nearly froze our nuts off waiting for you to answer the fucking door,’ Connor snapped.

‘Sorry, lads,’ Nipper said again. ‘Course I’ll make a brew. Come through.’ He signalled for them to follow him through to the kitchen as he walked past them.

Nipper filled the kettle and put it on to boil. He looked at the three men sitting in his kitchen. He knew now that the two men he’d never seen before were the Carter twins, and they were as terrifying a sight as their reputation suggested. Nipper only usually dealt with Jake, although he’d been working for all three of them for the past three months. He was their counter – responsible for collecting, counting and distributing all of their considerable cash. They had it coming in from everywhere. Some days he could barely keep on top of it. But he did and he could account for every single penny. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever leave himself open to being accused of robbing from this lot.

Not that he needed to steal their money. They trusted him and they paid him well for his services. It was a role he’d fallen into when his brother, and predecessor, had been sent down for six years. Now Nipper lived in constant fear of having his own collar felt, and having to do a long stretch because he would never grass his employers up. At first he’d been terrified that the huge quantities of cash he often had in the house would make him a target for thieves, but he’d soon learned that there wasn’t a man alive who would dare take anything from Jake Conlon or the Carters – not a sane one, at least.

‘I wasn’t expecting you tonight,’ Nipper said as the kettle boiled behind him. ‘Is anything wrong?’

‘You tell us,’ one of the twins snarled at him.

Nipper shook his head vigorously. ‘Not that I know of. Everything’s good from my end.’

‘Take no notice of Connor.’ The other twin, who Nipper now knew must be Paul, laughed. ‘He’s got a cob on because his bird has stood him up.’

‘Fuck off,’ Connor replied although Nipper sensed it was in good humour.

‘My colleagues here thought it was about time they met you face to face,’ Jake said. ‘Paul and Connor Carter,’ he said as he nodded towards the twins. ‘And also because we need to make a significant withdrawal.’

‘No problem. How much?’ Nipper replied. They’d had their usual fifty grand each earlier that week, deposited at Jake’s club, The Blue Rooms, as usual, and they didn’t normally take extra. There was only so much money a man could spend without drawing too much attention.

‘Half a mill,’ Paul answered nonchalantly, as though he was talking in pennies.

‘Not a problem. That will clear me out though, lads,’ Nipper said.

‘There’ll be more coming tomorrow,’ Jake said. ‘Plenty of it.’

‘We need you to count and parcel it up as soon as you get it,’ Connor warned him. ‘There’s people need paying as soon as.’

Nipper resisted the urge to tell Connor he knew what he was doing. Instead he turned his attention to the kettle which had now switched itself off. He took three mugs from his kitchen cupboard and made his visitors a hot drink.

‘I’ll go and get your money while you finish those,’ Nipper said as he left the three most terrifying men in Liverpool in his kitchen sipping tea while he went to his loft to retrieve half a million quid for them. He was just grateful his wife and kids were staying out for the night. His wife, Shirley, knew full well what he did, but he didn’t think she’d take kindly to having her house invaded at ten o’clock on a Saturday night.

‘I told you he was all right,’ Jake said to the twins as they sat in Nipper’s kitchen. ‘Just over five hundred grand is exactly what he should have right now, and he’s trotting upstairs to get it like the good little soldier he is. Why did you think he was having us off all of a sudden?’

Connor shrugged. ‘Just a feeling. Something feels off, lads. And I can’t put my finger on it.’

Jake shook his head. Now they were stuck with five hundred grand that they didn’t need right now, which was going to have to be kept somewhere, and all because Connor had a feeling that Nipper, or someone, was ripping them off. Connor was becoming increasingly paranoid and suspicious. It seemed the better they did, the more edgy Connor became, when for Jake it was the complete opposite. They were considered untouchable in Liverpool now. They had a loyal workforce who were paid well, enough of the filth in their pockets to ensure that none of those pricks ever bothered them, and more money than they could spend in two lifetimes. Life was good. It was time to start enjoying it a little. But Connor seemed to be becoming moodier by the week.

Chapter Nine

Paul threw the holdall into the back seat of Jake’s car and climbed in next to it.

‘Where are we gonna keep this little lot then?’ he asked Jake and Connor as they got into the front seats.

Jake shook his head. ‘I can’t take it home. The wife will think it’s a licence to go on another fucking spending spree. I keep telling her she needs to rein it in a bit, but that woman doesn’t know the meaning of the word subtle.’

‘We could leave it at the club?’ Paul offered.

Jake shook his head. ‘There’s already a shitload in the club. I can’t fit any more in the safe. It needs to go elsewhere.’

‘Maybe you should get a bigger safe?’ Connor suggested.

‘Or maybe we should have just left it with Nipper,’ Jake replied. ‘You know, the guy we pay to take care of our cash?’

‘Oh, fuck off,’ Connor snapped at him, sensing the dig. ‘I’ll take it then.’

‘Settled,’ Paul said with a smile, trying to defuse the tension that had been lingering in the air all evening. ‘Fancy a drink then, lads?’

‘Can’t.’ Jake shook his head. ‘It’s Isla’s birthday tomorrow. I was supposed to be home hours ago and I promised Siobhan I’d help with the balloons and all that.’

‘Not for me either, I’m knackered,’ Connor replied.

Paul sat back in his seat and sighed. ‘You two are a right pair of fucking bores today.’

Jake laughed. ‘It’s my kid’s first birthday, mate. What do you expect me to do?’

‘I know,’ Paul conceded.

‘You two are coming tomorrow, aren’t you?’ Jake asked.

Paul rolled his eyes, but there was no way he would miss it. ‘Course, mate,’ he said.

‘Con?’ Jake nudged him with his arm.

‘Yeah, course,’ Connor said.

‘Good. The party starts at one.’ Jake said.

Paul watched his brother and his best mate carefully as they drove on in silence. Jake seemed happier than he’d been in a while. To the outside world, Jake seemed to have it all. He adored Isla and he and Siobhan were the perfect couple – on paper anyway, and Jake seemed to enjoy playing the role of the married man. Although Paul knew that the recent spring in Jake’s step was nothing to do with Siobhan or Isla.

Jake pulled up outside Eric’s gym where Connor had left his car earlier.

‘You coming, Bro?’ He turned to Paul in the back seat as he unfastened his seat belt.

‘Nah. I’m going for a drink.’ Paul smiled as he handed his brother the holdall full of cash.

‘I’ll drop him off in town,’ Jake said.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow at the party then,’ Connor said as he climbed out of the car and slammed the door.

‘What’s the matter with him?’ Jake asked as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb.

‘Fuck knows,’ Paul said with a shrug, feigning ignorance. The truth was, Connor obviously had something more on his mind than his belief that someone was ripping them off, and Paul was afraid he knew exactly what it was.

‘Where do you want dropping?’ Jake asked when they stopped at the traffic lights.

Paul leaned forward in his seat and placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder. ‘You’re not really going straight home, are you?’

Jake sighed. ‘I should. I promised Siobhan.’

‘You don’t have to stay out late,’ he said. ‘Just a few hours. You can sort the balloons and shit in the morning.’

Jake relented. ‘Just an hour. Tops.’

‘An hour’s all I need, mate,’ Paul replied with a grin.

Chapter Ten

Jake climbed out of bed and started picking his clothes up off the floor. Paul lay back with his arms above his head and a grin on his face as he admired Jake’s naked body.

‘Shit! It’s fucking one o’clock,’ Jake said as he pulled his jeans on. ‘Siobhan’s going to go fucking mental.’

‘Tell her you were on a job,’ Paul said dismissively.

‘Just like that?’ Jake snapped at him. ‘I’m going to get earache for days for this.’

‘Hey. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your dick in your pants, lad,’ Paul said with a laugh.

Jake looked at him, lying in bed without a care in the world. No responsibilities. No ties to anyone or anything. He went around screwing who he liked, when he liked, without any thought for the consequences. But, to Jake, he was like a drug. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stay away from him.

‘It’s all your fucking fault,’ Jake said. ‘I was going home until—’

‘Until I dragged you here against your will?’ Paul interrupted him. ‘You could stay the night, you know?’

Jake shook his head. ‘You know I can’t.’

‘Shame.’ Paul grinned. ‘I like waking up with a warm body next to me.’

‘Yeah,’ Jake said as he picked up his shirt. ‘I bet you fucking do.’

Paul suppressed a grin. ‘Don’t tell me you’re jealous, mate?’

‘Fuck off!’ Jake shot back.

‘You’re the one who’s married,’ Paul reminded him.

‘Yeah I know,’ he said as he finished buttoning his shirt. ‘But you’re the one who’ll fuck anything with a pulse.’

‘But I’d give ’em all up for you,’ Paul said with a wink.

‘Oh you would? Really?’ Jake said, picking up a stray pillow and throwing it at him. ‘Now stop taking the piss and let me get home before my missus sends out a search party for me.’

‘Go on then,’ Paul said with a wave of his hand. ‘Get lost and let me watch Venom in peace. You’ll only spoil the ending anyway.’

‘We really need to stop doing this, Paul,’ Jake said as he opened the bedroom door.

‘Whatever you say, Jake,’ he replied.

Paul lay in bed and flicked through the television channels after Jake left. His mind raced and he couldn’t focus on the film. He and Jake had been on and off for two years. When his dad and Grace had got married, they’d sworn they’d stay just friends. Being step-brothers just made the whole thing feel even more awkward and wrong. They’d stuck to their agreement too – for a while. But they’d been back on again for the past six weeks.

Paul didn’t do relationships. He didn’t like to be tied down to anyone. But like it or not, he was tied to Jake Conlon, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

Jake Conlon climbed into his car and started the engine. It would be almost two o’clock by the time he got home. Siobhan was going to have his bollocks on a skewer. Not that he could blame her. As much as he always enjoyed his time with Paul, sometimes the guilt was overwhelming. Siobhan was a good woman. She was an amazing mum, and she deserved so much better than him.

Jake smiled as he thought about his daughter. Big brown eyes and beautiful dark curls. She had him wrapped around her little finger. He would do absolutely anything for her. He thought back to the night Siobhan had told him she was pregnant. He’d been planning to break things off with her, then she’d hit him with that bombshell. Less than a year later they were married in a massive do at Liverpool Town Hall – his mum had pulled some strings to get the venue at short notice. A shotgun wedding, his in-laws had affectionately called it. He’d never intended to marry Siobhan; he loved her, but not like a husband should. But she had given him a beautiful daughter, and for that he would always be grateful to her. He would always be there for her, even if it meant he had to keep so many secrets that it sometimes felt like his head would explode.

Now his daughter was about to turn one and Jake felt like he had been sleepwalking through the past twelve months of his life. To the outside world, he had it all. He was the happy, devoted family man with a beautiful wife and daughter. He and the Carter twins were at the top of their game. Money. Respect. Power. But the only time he felt like he was being the real him was when he was with Paul. He knew they could never be together. Not really. Not out in the open. But sometimes he wondered what it would be like if they could. He could still be a dad to Isla. His mum and Michael would get over the shock eventually. If he could just get out of his marriage, then maybe it could work?

Jake sighed as he put his foot down on the accelerator. It was a fucking ball-ache having to live two separate lives. There was no way out of his marriage. Siobhan wouldn’t divorce him. She was a good Catholic girl from a traditional family. Besides, she loved spending his money too much.

Chapter Eleven

Grace looked around the crowded kitchen of Jake and Siobhan’s large detached house and smiled to herself. She had always dreamed of having a big family, but being an only child and losing both of her parents so young, as well as her marriage to Nathan Conlon, had put paid to such notions – or so she’d thought. Now, here she was, in the midst of all these people, children, grandchildren, grandparents, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, and she loved them all. She was finally a part of the family she’d longed for and it made her happier than she had ever dreamed possible.

‘I think the milk monster needs a feed,’ Michael said in her ear as he walked up behind her.

Turning around, she took their wriggling son Oscar from his arms. His cherubic little face was beginning to turn a familiar shade of puce and she knew they had mere seconds before he let the entire kitchen know how much he needed a feed – and loudly. ‘Let’s go and find somewhere nice and quiet then, my little man,’ Grace said softly to him as she cuddled him to her. She left the kitchen and went upstairs to Isla’s nursery, where she could nurse Oscar in the rocking chair, whispering to him all the way as he began to become increasingly agitated.

Sitting in her granddaughter’s nursery, feeding her son, Grace looked around the room. She could hardly believe Isla was one year old today. How the time had flown. She’d been shocked to learn she was becoming a grandmother at the age of forty-two, but that had soon turned to excitement once Siobhan’s bump had started to grow. While some women might resist any involvement from their mother-in-law, Siobhan had always encouraged it, inviting Grace along to some of her scans and ante-natal appointments. Grace had learned that Siobhan wasn’t particularly close to her own mother, Theresa, and thought what a shame it was that Theresa had missed out on so much of Siobhan’s pregnancy. When Siobhan and Jake had got married when Isla was just two months old, Grace had finally met Theresa and Siobhan’s father Harry, and found them to be friendly enough, but they seemed to keep very much to themselves. They saw Isla once a month when Siobhan took her for a visit, but beyond that, they didn’t seem to show much interest. Their loss, Grace thought. Siobhan was an incredible woman and Isla was quite simply adorable. With big brown eyes and dark curls, she looked so much like her aunty Belle. If Grace ever took the two girls out together, they were often mistaken for sisters.

Leaning back in the chair, Grace stared at the contented face of her son and felt a warm rush of love for him. She was so lucky to have her three children. All of them were incredible in their own way. All of them were healthy. And most importantly, all of them were happy. Grace had few memories of her own mum, who’d died when she was a toddler. When she’d fallen pregnant with Jake at the age of nineteen, she’d been terrified she wouldn’t know what to do. That seemed so long ago now – a different lifetime. Smiling to herself, she supposed that she wasn’t doing such a bad job after all.

Michael walked into the garden of Jake and Siobhan’s house and found Connor sitting alone at the patio table.

‘What are you doing out here on your own, Con? It’s freezing.’

Connor shrugged. ‘It was getting a bit noisy in there, that’s all.’

‘Well, it is a kids’ birthday party.’ Michael laughed but Connor didn’t join in. ‘What’s going on with you lately? Is it this woman you’re seeing?’

‘How do you even know about her?’ Connor said.

‘Well, I didn’t really. I suspected you had someone on the go though. You’re permanently glued to your phone.’

‘It’s nothing to do with her anyway,’ Connor replied defensively.

‘Well what then? Has something happened between you and Jake?’

‘No. Why?’ Connor bristled.

‘Because you seem especially on edge around him, that’s why.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Connor protested.

‘You do. And look at you now. You’re fidgeting like a crackhead waiting for his next fix. What the fuck is going on, Son?’ Michael asked.

Connor hung his head and Michael wondered what the hell his son was hiding.

‘You really don’t want to know, Dad. Trust me,’ Connor said as he stood up and started to walk away.

Michael grabbed him by the arm. ‘There is nothing you can’t tell me, Con. I’m your dad. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.’

‘I’m warning you, Dad. This is something you really don’t want to know. Because once I tell you, you can’t un-know it, and it’s going to put you in a fucking impossible position.’

‘If it’s anything to do with you, then I want to know. No matter what it is.’

Connor shook his head. ‘No, Dad. Not this. I can’t…’

‘Connor. Please? You’re starting to freak me out. What could possibly be so bad that you can’t tell me?’

Connor stared at him then nodded. ‘Okay then. Have you ever noticed how much Isla looks like Belle?’

‘Yeah. So?’

‘But Belle looks like you, doesn’t she? Even Grace has said none of her kids look like her.’

Where the hell was Connor going with this? ‘Yeah. So what? What the hell are you trying to tell me?’

‘I think Isla is mine, Dad.’ Connor swallowed.

‘What?’ he snapped. ‘How?’

Connor shrugged. ‘Siobhan and I… It was just before she got pregnant with Isla. The dates all fit.’

‘Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you kids trying to do to me?’ Michael said as he ran his hands through his hair.

‘I warned you that you wouldn’t want to know,’ Connor said.

‘Son’—Michael shook his head—‘what the hell were you thinking? This is a fucking shit-storm waiting to happen. Does anyone else know?’

Connor shook his head. ‘No. Well, only Paul. He knows that me and Siobhan were together anyway, but he doesn’t know that I think Isla is mine. Look, Dad, no one ever needs to know. I just need to work this through in my head and then I can forget about it.’

‘And you think this will all just magically go away then, do you? Michael said.

‘It might. I just need to get through these next few weeks. I think Isla’s birthday has stirred all of this shit up for me. I’ll work it out and then everything can go back to normal,’ Connor pleaded.

Michael started to pace up and down the garden. ‘Between you and your brother, I’m surprised I’m not fucking hairless,’ he sighed. ‘Grace will bloody kill me if this ever comes out and she finds out I know.’

‘I know that. I know I’ve put you in a difficult situation and I’m sorry, but you asked.’

‘I know, Son.’ He put an arm around Connor’s shoulder and gave him a hug. ‘You’re a fucking idiot, you know that, don’t you?’

‘I know, Dad,’ Connor sighed against his shoulder.

Michael looked up at the house and saw Siobhan watching them from the kitchen window. He wondered if she suspected Isla was actually Connor’s child, and a part of him hoped that it gave her sleepless nights. He wasn’t a vindictive man by nature and he knew that it took two to tango, but it hurt him to see his son in such turmoil. Now that Connor had mentioned it, the resemblance between him and Isla was clear. How had nobody else seen it and asked questions? Because it was too bloody awful to even imagine, that was why. If it wasn’t bad enough that Paul and Jake had once had a thing for each other, now this. Connor had been right about putting him in an impossible position. There was no way he could tell Grace about this, but keeping something so big from her was unthinkable.

Connor straightened himself up. ‘We’d better get back inside before someone misses us, or sees us hugging in the garden,’ he said with a faint smile.

Michael nodded. ‘Let’s go.’ They headed up the steps to the back door and Michael wondered how on earth he was going to keep this monster of a secret from his wife. His wife whom he’d promised he would never keep secrets from. His wife who was one of the smartest people he had ever met, and who knew him better than anyone. If he told her, she would have to tell Jake. Then she would be compelled by her innate need to protect her family and drive herself crazy trying to fix everything for everyone. But she couldn’t fix this, and it would break her. Her loyalty would be torn, just as Michael’s was right now, and he couldn’t bear to do it to her.

As he walked back into the kitchen and saw her waiting for him, with a smile on her face, and their son in her arms, he knew in his heart that one day she would find out, and she might never forgive him.

Chapter Twelve

Grace smiled as she looked at her sleeping children on the back seat of the car. Turning in her seat, she switched the radio to Smooth FM and sang along to Phyllis Nelson’s “Move Closer” as Michael drove them home.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked Michael when the song had finished.

He turned his head to look at her and gave a weak smile. ‘I’m fine. Why?’

‘You just seem a bit quiet. And you didn’t sing the chorus with me,’ she said with a laugh.

‘I enjoyed listening to you sing. I didn’t want to spoil it with my tone-deaf wailing.’

‘I love your tone-deaf wailing,’ she replied.

He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingertips. ‘I’m good,’ he assured her.

‘It was a nice party,’ Grace said. ‘Isla seemed to enjoy herself anyway.’

‘Yeah. And Belle.’

‘I love it when the whole family gets together,’ Grace said with a contented sigh.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the radio, before Grace spoke again. ‘Do you think Connor is seeing someone?’

‘He’s always seeing someone.’

‘I mean someone special?’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘He kept checking his phone every ten minutes, and then when it finally rang, he slipped off outside with a strange look on his face.’

‘Could have been anything,’ Michael replied with a shrug.

‘Looked like the face of a man in love to me,’ she said. ‘Or at least in lust.’

‘Probably the latter knowing Connor.’

‘Hmm. I’m usually right about these things.’

Michael turned to her. ‘You’re usually right about most things.’

They stopped at some traffic lights and Grace watched her husband, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

‘Are you sure everything’s okay?’ Grace asked him again.

He smiled at her. ‘Yeah. I’m just tired. I want to get home.’

‘Okay,’ she said. But she didn’t quite believe him. There was something on his mind and for some reason he wasn’t telling her what it was. That was so unlike him. They didn’t keep secrets from each other – not any more, at least. It had been one of the conditions she’d told him was a deal-breaker when she’d accepted his marriage proposal. They’d only been seeing each other for a few months, but given their history, it had felt like a lifetime. So, when he’d dropped down on one knee one night after dinner, and presented her with his mother’s engagement ring, Grace had said yes, on the condition that they were always completely honest with one another.

After Nathan, she had promised herself she would never get married again. She didn’t want to be tied to another person, or depend on them for her happiness. Her first marriage had been a daily battle of survival, and she never wanted to go there again.

But then Michael Carter had changed all of that. He was a man worth breaking her rule for. Even when she’d first met Nathan, and he’d been charming and romantic and promised her the world, there had always been an edge to him. Grace had never felt entirely herself in his company, as though she always had to be on her best behaviour. It was something she found hard to describe, but even before the first time he’d hit her, there would be times he’d come home and be in the kind of mood that would make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Michael was bigger and taller than Nathan had been, and Grace had no doubts about the level of violence he was capable of, particularly after her kidnapping almost two years earlier. But, despite all of the years she had known him, all of the arguments and disagreements they’d had, as friends, co-workers and lovers, she had never once felt uneasy around him. Even when he found out that she had been lying to him about his not being Belle’s father, and had gone mental, she had never felt threatened by him. Instead, he made her feel safe, and whilst that had taken some time to get used to, it was a feeling that she treasured.

‘Why are you staring at me with a grin on your face?’ Michael said to her.

‘I was thinking of the night you proposed to me,’ she replied.

That seemed to snap him out of his sombre mood and he looked at her with a genuine smile on his face this time. ‘I honestly thought you were going to say no.’

‘Then why did you ask me?’ she said with a laugh.

‘Well, if you remember, I’d plied you with wine first, which does make you a bit giddy. And then I thought, fuck it, life’s too short,’ he said with a flash of his eyebrows.

‘I love you, you know?’ she said, conscious that she didn’t say it enough to him, whereas he told her almost every day.

‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘I love you, too.’

Grace sat back in her seat. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe her suspicion was brought on by the wonderful day they’d had and the fact that she still couldn’t trust that happiness lasted. Perhaps, this time, it would.

Chapter Thirteen

Carrying a sleeping Oscar in his car seat on her arm, Grace climbed the rickety wooden steps to Nudge Richards’ Portakabin. Nudge was an old friend. He didn’t have many friends himself, on account of his job as the best fence in Merseyside (he’d discovered it wasn’t good for business to show favouritism), and also because he was a huge, hairy gorilla of a man, with questionable hygiene at times, and he didn’t attract people easily. There was something about him though that Grace had always liked. He had a good sense of humour, he was discreet and he was fiercely loyal. Grace had helped him out of a situation years earlier which had prevented him losing everything, including quite possibly his head, and he had never forgotten it. He’d remained loyal to her ever since, and whilst he was usually a model of discretion, he also knew everything and everyone, and he bent his rules for Grace and her alone.

Grace pushed open the creaky door and peered inside. ‘You in, Nudge?’ she asked. He was expecting her but she still proceeded with caution. As well as being a bit of a gambler, Nudge also had a penchant for women – the cheaper and looser the better. Once before, Grace had visited him and found him and his lady-friend in a very compromising position. She’d felt the need to bleach her eyeballs afterwards.

‘Grace,’ she heard him bellow from the other side of the room, as he walked towards her, kettle in hand. ‘I was just putting a brew on.’

Grace smiled before holding a finger to her lips and nodded towards Oscar, who was still fast asleep.

‘Oh, sorry, love,’ Nudge said quietly. ‘Want one? I’ve washed the cups.’ He laughed. It was a standing joke between them that she’d only accept a drink from him if he scrubbed the cup first. He owned a scrapyard and didn’t see why his office shouldn’t replicate the rest of his yard. But for Grace, he made an exception.

‘Yeah, go on. I’m parched,’ Grace said as she placed Oscar’s car seat on the desk and sat on the chair.

Nudge finished making the tea before placing the two mugs on his desk. He peered inside Oscar’s car seat. ‘He isn’t half coming on. Spit of his dad, isn’t he?’

‘Yep,’ Grace replied with a nod. ‘I didn’t get a look-in with any of them, did I?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I see more of you in Belle as she gets older. And where is the lovely Belle today?’ Nudge asked as he took a seat opposite her.

‘Nursery. Only two days a week. She started two weeks ago. I thought it was probably best to get her used to going before she has to start school next year. I was worried she wouldn’t settle, but she loves it. Comes home telling me all about the fun she’s been having all day. Probably much more exciting than sitting at home with me, eh?’

‘Ah. It’ll do her good, no doubt,’ Nudge replied.

‘So? Anything interesting happening?’ Grace asked as she picked up her mug and blew on the steaming tea to cool it.

‘Not much, to be honest, Grace. All’s quiet on the Western Front. Seems Jake and the twins have got everything sewn up and running smoothly.’

‘For now,’ Grace said before taking a sip of her tea.

‘Forever the optimist?’ Nudge said with a laugh.

‘Well, you know as well as I do that things never stay the same for long round here. It seems the better you’re doing, the more people want to take it from you.’

Nudge nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right there. You can never take your eye off the ball, and you, my dear, never do. Aren’t you supposed to be on maternity leave?’

‘I am! This is a social call,’ Grace replied, even though that wasn’t entirely true. While she was visiting Nudge for a catch-up, she could never switch off entirely from her previous responsibilities as head of the firm. Because of that, she liked to keep herself apprised of any developments she might need to know about, and Nudge always seemed to have the lowdown on the comings and goings of the Liverpool underworld.

‘Oh, well in that case, I’m honoured,’ Nudge replied with a laugh. ‘I hope those lads appreciate you always looking out for them, Grace.’

‘I don’t do it for the appreciation, Nudge. Besides, I wouldn’t say it’s keeping an eye out for them. They’re big boys, they can handle themselves. I just like to keep my ear to the ground, that’s all.’

‘Well, I’m happy to keep my ear to the ground for you. I enjoy our little chats.’

‘Me too,’ Grace said with a smile.

Nudge took a big gulp of tea. ‘I suppose you heard those Johnson brothers are out in a couple of weeks though?’ he said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘I hadn’t heard, no. I forgot they were inside, to be honest. They got a hefty sentence, didn’t they?’

‘Yeah. Craig and Ged did anyway. Eight years each. Billy did five, while Bradley got off scot free.’

Grace nodded. The Johnson brothers could have been big players if they had only been a little smarter and not blindly followed their eldest brother, Bradley, who was as stupid as he was dodgy. Craig and Billy actually had something about them, but the two eldest, Bradley and Ged, were walking egos who seemed too self-obsessed and arrogant to see the bigger picture and consider that their younger brothers could actually lead them and therefore make any real money. ‘Yeah, I remember that,’ Grace replied. ‘I always thought that was a bit suspect, to be honest. He was in the thick of it, and he walked away without even a slap on the wrist.’

‘Seemed a bit fishy to me too,’ said Nudge. ‘I bet he was a grass.’

‘Against his own brothers though?’ Grace said with a shake of her head. ‘That’s low.’

‘Not for Bradley Johnson,’ Nudge snorted. ‘He’s a horrible little fucker. He’d sell his kids for the right price. You know I love a little flutter, Grace, but this fella’s something else. Would bet on an egg and spoon race if he could. He’s a fucking sore loser as well. Mean bastard when he wants to be. You’d think he’d have gotten used to losing by now, he does it so often.’

‘I didn’t realise he was a gambler. I always wondered why him and his wife never seemed to have a pot to piss in. I assumed he was being careful so he wouldn’t get nicked. I thought he must have had at least some of the money that went missing from the job his brothers went down for?’

‘Nope. It’s because he goes through money like the clap in a whorehouse. And as for the money from that job, I reckon Sol got it all, otherwise, why would Bradley still be breathing?’

Grace had forgotten it was Sol’s job. The Johnson brothers had never worked in Merseyside since they’d tried to muscle in on her business years earlier. No doubt assuming they could because she was a woman. Michael had dealt with them for her, and whatever he had done, had ensured she never heard from any of them again. Grace had worked with Solomon Shepherd too, back in the day. For a long time, he and Grace had had an arrangement that had been beneficial for both of them. Sol was now the top dog in Manchester and any business connection Grace had with him had been severed when she’d moved to Leeds before Belle was born. Sol had been the instigator of her coming back to Liverpool. He was the one who’d told her that Jake was in trouble, and he’d seemed to expect some sort of recognition or reward for that, but Grace had stayed well away from him, and had warned Jake and the twins to do the same. Sol was into absolutely everything now – things that she would never allow herself or any of her family to become involved in.

‘You’re right. There’s no way Sol would have let him off with that. So, Bradley’s penniless then?’

‘Yep. He spends it twice as fast as he can earn it.’

‘Good to know, Nudge,’ Grace said with a grin. ‘You really are a mine of information.’

Nudge smiled appreciatively. ‘Well, I’m glad to be of service, Boss. Fancy another?’ he said as he held up his empty mug.

Grace glanced at Oscar, who was still fast asleep, and probably would be for another half hour at least. As much as she enjoyed chatting to Nudge, she couldn’t chance having to feed her son in Nudge’s grotty Portakabin, and with Nudge looking on – pretending not to look, but being unable to anyway. She enjoyed a strictly platonic relationship with Nudge, and would rather keep it that way.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t. This little milk machine will wake up for a feed soon, so I’d better get home. I’ll pop in one day next week though. I’ll leave the baby with Michael so we can have a proper catch-up.’

‘Sounds good to me. I’ll see you next week,’ Nudge said as he stood up to show Grace out.

‘See you, Nudge. Thanks for the brew,’ Grace said as she gave him a hug.

‘My pleasure. And give Michael and the boys my best, won’t you?’

‘Of course.’

Grace gave little thought to the Johnson brothers as she drove home. They had never really been on her radar and the fact that two of them were getting out of prison shortly was of little consequence to her. Hopefully they would remain out of her and her family’s way, as they always had done. She couldn’t help wonder again about her conversation with Connor earlier that week, though, and the uneasiness he’d described. It was a feeling she was all too familiar with. Things had been going too well for too long, and in Grace’s experience, it was only a matter of time before something happened to change that.

Chapter Fourteen

Jake looked up as Paul and Connor came bounding through into his office at The Blue Rooms.

‘How did it go, lads?’ he asked.

Paul grinned and sat on the chair opposite Jake. ‘Go on, tell him, Con.’

‘It was fine. It’s all sorted,’ he replied with a groan.

Paul started to laugh as Connor sat on the leather sofa in the corner of the room.

‘Then what’s up with Chuckles here?’ Jake said, indicating Paul.

Connor glared at his brother but Paul didn’t heed the warning.

‘We saw Kenny the Melon,’ Paul said, stifling his laughter. ‘We had a word with him. Slapped him around a bit. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing or who we were, so we were just going to mess with him a bit, you know, pretend we were going to pull his teeth out or something. But then…’ At this point, Paul burst into a fit of laughter.

‘It’s not even fucking funny, Paul,’ Connor barked.

Jake, who was smiling at this point, urged Paul to go on and finish the story.

It took Paul a while to compose himself before he could finally speak. ‘But then he shat on Connor,’ he snorted before literally doubling over with laughter as tears streamed down his face.

Jake stared at them both. ‘What? How did that even happen?’ he asked through his own laughter.

‘He didn’t exactly shit on me,’ Connor snapped. ‘He shit himself when we told him we were going to cut him up and throw him in the Mersey. He was wearing these baggy fucking shorts, so some of it went on my shoe. That’s all. He didn’t shit on me!’

Jake looked down at Connor’s shoes.

‘I fucking threw them away! And my keks too. Dirty bastard!’ he snapped.

‘Where is he now then?’ Jake asked.

‘We left him there in the street, covered in his own shit,’ Connor replied.

‘That’s hilarious, Con,’ Jake said as he started to laugh harder. ‘You’d better hope word doesn’t get our that the quickest way to take out the Carter twins is to shit on them.’ This caused Paul to become hysterical again and soon Paul and Jake could barely speak for laughing.

‘You’re a pair of fucking clowns,’ Connor said, although Jake could see the hint of a smile on his lips. There was something about Paul’s laughter, in particular, that was infectious.

It took a good ten minutes for Paul and Jake to stop laughing entirely and when they did Connor spoke again.

‘In all seriousness, while I’m not bothered about Kenny or them lads we caught the other night, I am bothered that someone knew where our stuff was and blabbed about it. Whoever this mysterious fella in the pub was, he basically goaded them into nicking our gear. Do you think we have a leak?’

Jake shook his head. ‘Nah. More likely someone who works on the docks saw our container and the fact that it was set aside, assumed it was full of weed because it’s come from the Dam, and blabbed to some young lads in the pub to give himself a bit of kudos.’

‘Yeah. That’s more likely,’ Paul agreed. ‘If he’d known anything about our operation, he’d have known what was really in that container.’

‘I think it was a case of wrong place, wrong time,’ Jake said.

‘I still think we should check out how our Wirral business is doing,’ Connor suggested. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to pay Stu Poynter a visit, would it?’

‘No, I suppose not,’ Paul said.

‘If you insist,’ Jake replied. ‘It would give me a chance to meet Stu anyway.’ Stu was responsible for ensuring their operations in Wirral ran smoothly, which included keeping all of their dealers in line, as well as handling any possible takeovers. It was a job that they paid him, and the small army he recruited to assist him, handsomely for, and one that he’d always done well. Nevertheless, it was always good to remind their employees who was really pulling the strings.

‘Tomorrow then?’ Connor suggested.

Jake and Paul nodded.

‘I’ll give him a ring then and let him know we’ll be round,’ Paul said.

Chapter Fifteen

‘Stu? Are you in, lad?’ Paul Carter shouted up the stairs of Stu Poynter’s open-plan house in Heswall as he let himself through the unlocked door.

‘Yeah. Come up,’ was the reply.

Jake watched as Paul jogged up the stairs and frowned. There was something about the way that he did it, as though he’d ran up and down them many times before. Connor sat down on the sofa and stretched out his legs. Jake followed suit and sat on the armchair, keeping an eye on the stairs for Paul and Stu’s return. A few moments later the two of them came bouncing down the stairs laughing.

‘What’s so funny?’ Jake asked.

Stu shook his head. ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you.’

Jake scowled at him. ‘What the fuck did you just say to me, you little cunt?’

Stu looked at Jake in surprise as Paul replied for him. ‘Calm down, Jake. He’s just messing.’

‘We were just laughing about something that happened years ago,’ Stu said apologetically. ‘It’s not even that funny.’

Paul frowned at Jake as he sat next to Connor on the sofa.

‘So, how are things up here in sunny Wirral going then?’ Connor asked. ‘Everyone behaving themselves?’

‘Yep.’ Stu perched on the arm of the sofa. ‘It’s going well. We’ve had no bother from anyone for a while. Business is good,’ he said as he lit himself a joint. He took a long drag before handing it to Paul. ‘Want some?’

‘No, thanks,’ Paul said.

Stu shrugged, but didn’t offer the joint to anyone else, which only annoyed Jake further. Not that he’d have taken it, but that wasn’t the point.

‘In fact, we could probably shift more, if you’ve got it?’ Stu said.

‘Sound. We’ll make sure there’s some extra in this week’s drop then?’ Connor said.

They made some small talk before Jake suggested it was time to leave. As they reached Stu’s garden gate, he shouted after them. ‘Paul. Have you got a minute?’

‘I’ll just be a sec,’ Paul said to Jake and Connor before walking back to Stu’s front door. Jake watched the two men chatting and laughing for a minute before Stu handed Paul a small package. Paul put it in his pocket and jogged back to the car with a smile on his face. He climbed into the back seat and Connor started the engine.

‘What was that about?’ Jake asked.

‘He gave me a bag of some of our finest quality weed. The lads have just harvested a fresh crop, so he thought we might want to sample the merchandise.’

‘Is that all?’

‘And he wanted to know if I fancied going to a party later.’

‘And do you?’ Jake said as he felt the anger bubbling beneath his skin.

‘Not that it’s any of your fucking business, Susan, but no, I don’t,’ Paul snapped.

‘Oh, will you two give it a fucking rest,’ Connor shouted at them before turning up the radio to such a volume that any further conversation was cut dead.

The atmosphere in the car on the journey back was tense, and in the time it took to reach The Blue Rooms the three men barely said a word to each other. It wasn’t until they were in the privacy of Jake’s office that Jake spoke.

‘Are you fucking around with Stu?’ he snapped at Paul.

‘What the hell?’ Paul replied.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Connor mumbled.

‘I asked you if you’re fucking Stu?’ Jake shouted.

‘No, I’m not,’ Paul replied.

‘But you want to?’

‘Fuck off!’

‘Jesus Christ. Will you two get a fucking grip!’ Connor shouted. ‘I don’t have the sodding energy for this. Sort out your screwed-up love lives in your own time, and preferably out of my earshot. Because in case you hadn’t noticed, we are trying to run a business here.’

‘Don’t fucking tell me. It’s him.’ Paul pointed at Jake.

‘Me? You’re the one fucking one of our dealers.’

‘What did I just fucking say?’ Connor snarled. ‘Will you two pack it in? I’m going to get a drink. And when I come back in here can you two have sorted yourselves out? You pair of fucking tarts.’ He shook his head as he left the office.

Jake sat on the chair behind his desk and Paul opposite him. They sat in stony silence for a few minutes until Paul finally spoke.

‘There’s nothing going on between me and Stu, you know. He’s not even gay.’

Jake stared at him but didn’t respond.

‘I’ve known him for years, that’s all. I don’t see much of him but we have a laugh together. That’s all. I did bang his ma once though,’ he said with a grin.

‘His ma?’

‘Yep. I was only sixteen. But she was a right goer. My dad went mental at her when he found out,’ he said with a laugh.

‘You’re a fucking slag,’ Jake replied, smiling.

‘And proud of it. Anyway, as funny as it is to see you getting all jealous and hot under the collar about me and Stu, what’s going on with you? Between you and Connor, you’re a right pair of moody gits lately.’

‘Just the usual,’ Jake said with a sigh. ‘Siobhan’s been giving me grief about staying out late the other night. I can’t fucking stand living like this, mate. It’s fucking exhausting.’

‘Then leave her.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Yes! People get divorced all the fucking time, Jake. You’re in a mess of your own making. You know that as well as I do. And only you can get yourself out of it.’

Jake stared at him. ‘Everything’s just so fucking easy for you, isn’t it? Just leave her. You haven’t got a clue what it’s like to be married or have kids.’

Paul sighed. ‘I fucking give up with you, Jake. I don’t know what you want me to say then. If you’re not gonna leave her then fucking suck it up.’

Jake stared at him. Paul was right, but he wouldn’t admit it. Sooner or later though, something had to give. Living this double life was taking its toll on him in more ways than one. He was finding it increasingly difficult to keep Siobhan happy while also lying to her almost every day. He’d felt it more acutely since he’d started up with Paul again and knew that any happiness he found with Paul was coming at great cost to his wife and child, and this only exacerbated his feelings of guilt. But he couldn’t divorce Siobhan. He had an image to maintain. To the outside world he was a happy family man with a gorgeous wife and a beautiful daughter, and he couldn’t lose that. It offered him the perfect smokescreen for who he really was, and it gave him the perfect excuse to turn down the constant stream of women who threw themselves at him.

‘You coming to mine when we’re done here?’ Paul said to him, his voice softer now.

‘Yeah,’ Jake replied. Despite everything he’d just said, he couldn’t say no.

Chapter Sixteen

Paul walked into the living room of his flat, with Connor close behind him, and threw the bag of weed onto the coffee table before taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the armchair. Connor put down the large takeaway pizzas he was carrying, kicked off his shoes and sat on the sofa.

‘Beer?’ Paul asked him.

‘Yeah. Where are the Rizlas?’

Paul nodded towards his jacket. ‘In my pocket. If you’re building a joint, make sure you put enough of the good stuff in. It’s not like we haven’t got enough to go round, is it? Stu gave us a bag full.’

‘You fucking build one then, you ungrateful bastard,’ Connor said with a smile.

A few moments later, Paul returned to the living room with two bottles of Budweiser, placing them on the coffee table as he sat on the armchair opposite his brother.

‘So what were you and the arl fella talking about the other day then?’ Paul asked as he rolled himself a joint.

‘When?’ Connor replied with a frown as he tucked into a slice of meat feast pizza.

‘At Isla’s party?’

‘I can’t fucking remember. It was days ago, lad. Why?’

Paul shrugged. ‘Looked like you were getting all emotional sitting out there in the garden.’

‘Aww, feeling left out, were you, Bro?’ Connor said as he started to laugh.

‘Fuck off, you knob!’ Paul said as he picked up a slice of pizza from the open box in front of him and threw it at Connor.

Connor ducked and the pizza landed behind the sofa. ‘We were just talking about Isla being one. Him marrying Grace and becoming a grandad and all that shit.’ Connor shrugged.

‘Him being a grandad?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you happen to mention that you think he’d be Isla’s grandad even if he hadn’t married Grace?’

Connor stopped eating his pizza and glared at his brother. ‘You always tell me to shut up when I mention Isla. So why the fuck would you bring it up now when Jake will be here in a minute?’

‘I’m bringing it up because you’ve been walking around with a face like a slapped arse for the past few weeks, mate. And, other than that married bird you’ve been knocking off, I can’t think of anything else that might be bothering you. So, which is it? The bird or the fact you think you might be Isla’s dad?’

‘Just leave it alone, Paul.’

‘Did you tell him?’

‘Tell who?’

‘Tell our dad what you fucking did?’ Paul snapped.

Connor nodded.

‘Oh, nice one, Con. You’ve proper landed him in the shit there,’ Paul said. Selfishly, his most pressing concern was that Jake was one step closer to finding out the truth, and the impact that would have on their relationship. Paul wasn’t sure if Jake would ever forgive him, and the thought of that made his chest physically hurt.

‘He knew something was wrong, Paul. What was I supposed to do?’ Connor replied.

‘Erm, you lie. Like us normal people do.’

‘I’ve never been able to keep stuff from him. You know that. It’s like he knows what we’re thinking or something.’

Paul shook his head as he lit the end of his joint. ‘What if he tells Grace, and she tells Jake? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve launched a hand grenade right into the middle of our family. You’re a fucking idiot, Bro. You need to let this Isla thing go. She’s Jake’s kid. Go and have some kids of your own to fuck up.’

After Paul took a long drag, he passed the joint to Connor. Taking it from him, Connor started to laugh. ‘You’ve got a fucking cheek calling me an idiot when you’re still fucking around with Jake.’

‘Yep, I know,’ he said as he blew out a long stream of smoke. ‘We’re a pair of lost causes, mate.’

‘Good job we’ve got each other then.’

A knock at the door put an abrupt end to their conversation. ‘That’ll be Jake,’ Paul said as he stood up.

‘Yeah, so no more deep and meaningful stuff, eh, you big fairy?’

Paul stuck two fingers up at him as he headed for the front door.

Chapter Seventeen

Paul stretched his arms above his head and yawned. Looking at the clock he saw it was only just after midnight, but weed always made him tired.

‘I am absolutely fucked, lads.’ He said to Connor and Jake, who were looking equally worse for wear on his couch.

‘Yeah. It’s been a long day.’ Connor nodded, sleepily. The copious amount of weed they’d all smoked that evening had made them more relaxed than usual.

‘I’m getting off,’ Connor said as he stood up and almost stumbled over.

Paul laughed. ‘You’re fucking wasted, Con. Good job you only live down the hall.’

‘I know,’ Connor giggled and soon the twins were doubled over with laughter, each of them almost unable to breathe.

Jake smiled at them but didn’t join in with the laughter. Weed usually made him feel thoughtful and melancholy, whereas it turned the twins into a pair of laughing clowns.

‘Right, I’m off. Night, lads,’ Connor said when he’d finally regained his senses.

‘Night, Bro,’ Paul said.

‘Night, mate,’ Jake added.

Once Connor had left, Paul and Jake sat in silence for a moment. Paul took a swig of beer and was about to turn off the television when Jake spoke.

‘I can’t do this any more, Paul,’ he said.

‘Do what, mate?’ Paul said with a frown. ‘Get stoned?’

‘Don’t be fucking soft,’ Jake snapped, seemingly annoyed that Paul couldn’t read his mind. ‘Do this. Live this double life. Keep seeing you and be married to Siobhan.’

‘So, what are you going to do then?’

‘I should leave her, shouldn’t I?’ Jake said.

Suddenly, Paul felt much more sober. ‘Well, only you can decide that, mate.’

‘I think I have to. I just can’t do it any more.’ Jake’s eyes filled with tears.

‘Fucking hell, Jake,’ Paul said as he shook his head. ‘Are you sure?’

‘One hundred per cent. I can’t keep lying to her, Paul. I can’t keep lying to myself. Most nights I dread going home. If it wasn’t for Isla, I wouldn’t. And then when I get home, Siobhan’s there waiting for me. Waiting for something that I can’t give her. It’s fucking exhausting. And it’s killing me.’

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting you to say that, mate,’ Paul said as he ran a hand through his hair.

‘I’m not expecting anything from you,’ Jake said defensively.

Paul stood up and crossed the room to sit next to Jake on the couch. ‘I never said you were, lad. But are you really sure you want to do this? Once you tell her, there’s no going back.’

Jake shrugged. ‘I don’t even know if I can. Maybe it’s the weed talking?’

‘Why don’t you sleep on it and decide what to do in the morning?’

‘Yeah. Sounds like a plan. I’ll go home in the morning when my head’s a bit clearer.’

‘Are you going to stay the night then?’ Paul asked.

‘Yeah.’

Paul didn’t say anything further, but instead took Jake’s hand and pulled him up from the couch before heading to the bedroom.

Jake opened the front door of his house and prayed that Siobhan and Isla were still asleep. It wasn’t quite seven o’clock, which was when they usually got up. He could sneak into the living room and pretend he’d slept on the couch.

Stepping into the house, he heard Isla’s laughter and groaned inwardly. He tiptoed down the hallway but it was too late: just as he reached the stairs, Isla and Siobhan came out of the kitchen, Siobhan carrying two bowls of cereal, and Isla her favourite teddy bear.

‘Jake!’ Siobhan said sharply, but not so much that it would startle Isla. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I had too much to drink and stayed at Paul’s, babe,’ he said sheepishly. Although he’d decided that he needed to leave Siobhan, he didn’t know when, or indeed if, he’d muster the courage to do it. He’d talked it over with Paul before he left and decided it was something that he’d have to build himself up for. He might give it a few weeks and see if he was ready to tell her. But not today.

‘Paul’s?’ Siobhan snapped at him.

‘Yeah. I slept on his couch,’ he found himself saying, adding to his statement unnecessarily. Because in his mind, as far as Siobhan was concerned, where else would he have slept?

‘Toons, Daddy,’ Isla squealed, interrupting them both, as she held her arms out for Jake to pick her up. He responded to her request, picking her up and cuddling her to him, relieved to have her between him and Siobhan’s icy stare.

‘Toons, Daddy!’ she said again, reminding him that she wanted to watch the cartoons.

‘Okay. Okay.’ He laughed as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Cartoons for my Isla,’ then he turned from Siobhan and walked away, chatting to Isla and making her giggle with delight, while Siobhan followed dutifully behind.

Chapter Eighteen

Siobhan was just getting out of the bath when she heard the vibration of her mobile phone on her dressing table. Wrapping a towel around herself, she walked into the bedroom to answer it. As she glanced at the screen she saw a number she didn’t recognise, but answered anyway in case it was Jake, who occasionally used a burner phone.

‘Hello?’ Siobhan said.

‘Siobhan! I’m so glad you’ve kept the same number,’ a familiar female voice replied.

‘Jenny? Is that you?’ Siobhan asked as a smile started to spread across her face. ‘It’s so lovely to hear from you.’

Jenny Lyon had been one of Siobhan’s best friends all through high school and college. After college she’d gone to New York to work in her uncle’s law firm. The two women had kept in touch for a while, then life had got in the way and they hadn’t spoken for over a year, since before Isla was born.

‘How is married life? How is your baby girl? I saw some photos of her on Instagram. She’s beautiful,’ Jenny said.

‘Married life is great,’ Siobhan lied. ‘And Isla is amazing. But tell me about you. Are you still living it up in New York?’

‘No, I’m home. I came back last week. New York was amazing, but I missed Liverpool too much. I’m a home bird at heart, I suppose, and I don’t think I’m cut out for being a paralegal if I’m honest.’

‘Oh, wow! I can’t believe you’re back,’ Siobhan said as she sat down on the bed.

‘Well, I definitely am,’ Jenny said with a laugh. ‘And I’ve really missed you, Vaunie. I’m so sorry I was crap at keeping in touch, but the working hours over there were crazy.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I missed you too,’ she replied as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

‘How about meeting up soon then? It would be good to see Jake too, and meet that gorgeous daughter of yours.’

‘Yes, that would be lovely. Although Jake’s super busy. Maybe we could go out, just the two of us? Have some cocktails.’

‘Ooh, drinks and dancing. That sounds like a much better idea,’ Jenny giggled. ‘When and where?’

‘I’ll need to sort a babysitter, and check with Jake. But soon. Very soon.’

‘Sounds like a plan then. Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice, Vaunie,’ she replied. ‘Look, I’ll have to run, Mum and Dad are taking me out for a Chinese. But we’ll speak soon, okay? Let me know when you can get out. I’m footloose and fancy free so I can do any night.’

‘I will do. Bye, Jen.’

‘Bye, Vaunie.’

Siobhan placed her phone on the bedside table and smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek. Jenny had been a good friend to her over the years. They’d gone through all of their teenage dramas and heartbreaks together and had mended many a broken heart over a bottle of wine or vodka stolen from Jenny’s parents’ well-stocked kitchen. It was a shame that they’d drifted so far apart and hadn’t spoken for so long. Speaking to Jenny had reminded Siobhan that she wasn’t just Jake’s wife, or Isla’s mum. She was Vaunie too – a funny, kick-ass woman, who had once literally drunk the student union dry of tequila. She’d been hiding away for too long, letting go of good friends like Jenny. Trying to be the perfect wife, while her husband was decidedly imperfect. She thought about how much she’d changed in the recent years and how naïve she’d been to think that getting pregnant would change Jake and who he was. She had never wanted to accept that he was gay. There was a time he had been attracted to her too, and she had convinced herself that he must like both men and women. But she had made a huge mistake in pressuring him to marry her. Perhaps she should have told him the truth about her and Connor, and the possibility that Isla was Connor’s child? That was a thought that Siobhan never gave much headspace to, mostly because she tried to forget that she and Connor had ever happened. It had been a stupid, reckless mistake and one she never cared to repeat. She didn’t regret for a minute having Isla though, even though she did feel incredibly alone as a new mum. Well, now she knew she wasn’t alone. She had friends, and family, who loved her and saw her for who she really was.

Maybe there was still a chance to remind her husband of that too?

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