Donnie and Steff Black, along with Cammy McNab, stood side by side as they handed out mugs of tea and coffee at the old folks’ home. The residents loved them for it, and the elderly ladies would often joke about how if they were fifty and sixty years younger, they’d be the type they’d introduce to their parents.
‘If only they knew,’ Mel Black laughed quietly. ‘My brothers are most definitely not the type you’d take home to meet your parents.’
Layla laughed with her. ‘You shouldn’t talk about them like that. They’re good people.’
‘Ha, you’re only saying that coz you’re shagging Donnie.’
Layla felt herself blush, and nudged Mel in the ribs, glad that most of the residents were close to being completely deaf.
‘Let’s face it, Donnie might be a good laugh, but do you really see yourself being with him for the rest of your life?’ Mel asked.
Layla struggled to understand why she would be speaking about her eldest brother in such a way.
‘Look, I love my brothers in equal measures, but you know the score. They’re going to turn out just like our old man. Dangerous, violent. Do you really want to become the woman married to a gangster?’
Layla picked up the knife next to the lemon drizzle loaf and started to slice into it slowly, considering her future sister-in-law’s words. Was that what she was going to become? A gangster’s moll?
‘Your mum doesn’t seem too bothered by it.’
‘Aye, well, she’s cut from the same cloth as my dad. She’d happily slice off the finger of an enemy if my dad held him down. It’s a sick kind of love they have for each other.’
Layla couldn’t hide her shocked expression. Jesus, was that the kind of life she was going to marry into?
‘You’re exaggerating.’ Layla set the knife down on the table and glanced down at the sliced lemon drizzle, imagining it to be the fingers of the enemies Donald Black senior had acquired over the years.
‘Layla, you’re delusional. Trust me when I say, if he ever asks you, don’t marry my brother. You’ll regret it.’
With that, Mel Black gave Layla a serious look before lifting the plate of lemon drizzle slices and handing them out to the residents.
‘Hey,’ Steff said, appearing next to Layla. ‘You okay? You’ve turned a funny colour.’
Layla smiled widely. ‘Yeah, we were just chatting about the wedding actually.’ The lie seemed to roll off her tongue so easily. ‘I hope you’ve got the best man’s speech all prepared?’
Steff nodded. ‘Course I do. I’m not an amateur. He’s my brother, and you’re my sister-in-law to be. I wouldn’t do anything to let you down.’
She smiled, but Layla wasn’t listening. She was too busy watching Donnie as he played the part of kind and gentle local lad helping his community. She knew there was a side to him that was still to come out. Mel had told her about it often enough. In all honesty, she was too scared to call things off, because at the end of it all, she loved Donnie more than anything or anyone else in the world. And no matter what anyone said, if Donnie ever did ask her to marry him, she would say yes. He might turn out like Donald, but he would never hurt Layla.
‘Christ, look at her just drooling over you. It’s a good thing Mel took that cake off her, otherwise it would be lemon fucking dribble,’ Cammy said.
‘You’re just jealous that the only birds interested in you are the old birds in here.’ Donnie laughed as he placed the teapot down on the table after serving the last resident.
‘What can I say? I’m a charmer,’ Cammy replied as he took a step back from the table.
‘My old man was saying that we should organise a bingo night for the old biddies in here,’ Donnie said. ‘Personally, I can’t be fucked with it. Serving them tea and coffee is bad enough.’
Cammy looked out at the residents of the old folks’ home and sighed. ‘Why exactly are we doing this? It’s not my idea of a good Saturday morning. I’d rather be lying in bed with a bird on my arm, hungover, up to my eyeballs and on a comedown.’
Donnie leaned in close and lowered his tone. ‘Being a pillar of the community gets you places, doesn’t it? Gives us that clean-cut look. Everyone will have good things to say about us the more we do this. Keeps the gossip merchants off our case, and then when shit goes down folk will be quick to defend us.’
Cammy raised a brow. ‘So, we’re not doing this out of the kindness of our hearts then?’ His sarcastic tone rung out.
Donnie laughed. ‘The Blacks only do things that make us money, Cammy. If you want to work for the Black empire, then you’ll have to get rid of that good heart of yours.’
Donnie Black had a heart of stone; Cammy had always known that about his mate. It didn’t matter who you were, if he wanted to get ahead in life, he’d always throw people out the way. As much as he told people he loved Layla and that was why he was marrying her, Cammy knew that Donnie loved having Layla on his arm. She made him look good. She was a good, clean-cut girl who would improve his image. Cammy wondered if, on some level, Layla knew that herself.
‘Having a conscience isn’t a requirement of the job, Cammy,’ Donnie continued. ‘My old man is moving into new realms of business that mean there’s no room for that shit. But you have to pretend you’re a good guy.’
‘I am a good guy,’ Cammy said, readjusting his position. He caught Mel Black’s eye as she served the lemon drizzle and smiled at her. She smiled back. Thankfully, Donnie never saw it.
‘Exactly.’