‘A lovely service, Mrs Reynold,’ Mal said, gently taking Gloria’s hand. ‘Len will be sorely missed both personally and from within the industry.’
‘Thank you,’ Gloria sniffed, smiling weakly at Mal and Judith.
‘I’ve Len to thank for giving me the incentive to open the Royal Peacock. Birmingham won’t be the same without him,’ Mal continued, smiling at Gloria and then at Sam. ‘Thankfully, your daughter will continue his legacy.’
His eyes veered over to Seb standing some way off, his hand firmly around a bottle of beer. ‘I hope Sebastian has given you all the assistance you need?’
Sam glanced at Seb. ‘He’s been very helpful.’ If purposely scuppering everything she was doing counted? But she wouldn’t voice that. Malcolm Stoker seemed a nice man – the same sort as her father. He wasn’t to know his son was doing the opposite of what had been asked. That’s if he actually was. ‘And how are you now, after your stint in hospital, Mr Stoker? I hope you’re feeling better?’
Mal thumped his fist against his chest. ‘Everything seems to be settling down nicely, thank you.’
‘Or it will when he fully retires,’ Judith added, cutting her husband a sideways glance. ‘Only the other night he took it upon himself to go over to the Peacock and came back more het up than usual.’
‘Yes, thank you, Judith,’ Mal hissed through a forced smile. ‘I’m sure these ladies don’t want to hear about that!’ Pretending to shrug bashfully, he grinned. ‘After all this time it’s difficult switching off, but I’m learning. Or trying to, at least.’
Sam smiled, but she could see there was a bone of contention in the Stoker camp. Seeing the small, yet poignant glances exchanged between her mother and Judith only compounded that. Something was far from right, but she had no idea what. On top of that, she’d have to be blind not to notice the remnants of the black eye Seb still sported and, if she wasn’t mistaken, one of the other Stoker brothers looked like he’d taken a whack too.
Swallowing down her irritation, she found herself glancing back in Seb’s direction, his icy glare centred solely on one of his brothers. It looked like whatever was going on could be serious. Seb had made no effort to acknowledge her either. After his stinking attitude and the things he’d said, she felt the least he owed her was an apology, but clearly that was beneath him too.
Sam followed Seb’s line of sight, finding his concentration now fixed on her cousin. What would he accuse John of this time? She frowned, unsure why she’d avoided informing John what Seb had said. Probably because John had gone out of his way to help her these last few days. Only yesterday, they’d spent almost the whole day together, going through the ins and outs of things she didn’t even know existed.
Feeling dreadfully guilty, Sam frowned, knowing she shouldn’t doubt John. Even less so since he’d made the effort. He was family, remember?
Her mind raced uncontrollably. No matter how many times she told herself that family’s word took precedence over anyone else’s, the doubt still nagged, chafing away on the inner surface of her brain like an abrasive scourer. Christ, she felt awful that she’d ever doubted John, her own cousin. But the fact remained the same – regardless of how much she downplayed it, she still doubted him. And this prickling guilt picked away at her relentlessly.
Sam took a deep breath. All of this aside, she had to keep up the public pretence that a good relationship was maintained with her own family and the Stokers. She turned back to Mal and Judith. ‘Thanks once again for coming. I’d better go and mingle.’
Squeezing her mother’s hand before she moved away, Sam pushed her way through the crowd, walking hastily towards the staff corridor. She had to have a break for a few moments before facing any more condolences.
She wished the wake could have been held in a nice hotel – one with large patio doors leading to gardens so that she could get some fresh air and some space – but her mother was right. Where else but the Orchid was fitting?
Sam had almost reached the staff doors when she felt a hand on her arm.
‘You haven’t let that Stoker man collar you again, have you?’ John said. ‘He’s bound to feed you more bullshit.’
‘No, Seb hasn’t said a word to me,’ Sam muttered bitterly, Seb’s public rebuff stinging.
John glanced around. ‘There’s been more trouble in the Stoker camp.’
Sam sighed. That was painfully evident. ‘What problems the Stokers have between themselves aren’t our concern.’
John’s lips pursed. ‘It is our concern and you need to seriously consider breaking the Orchid’s connection with them.’
Sam frowned, worry glimmering. ‘What, you mean like the shared territories? We have good deals on that front, do we not?’
John nodded. ‘True, but by all accounts, they’re turning on each other and we don’t want to be involved with that.’
Sam blinked. She didn’t want to talk about Sebastian-bloody-Stoker. She looked at John questioningly. ‘And?’
‘You saw the injuries?’ John grinned. ‘They’ve been fighting amongst themselves.’
Sam gasped. ‘Are you serious? Whatever for?’
John leaned closer. ‘Word has it that Seb attempted to kill the youngest brother when he found the money from a deal had been filched behind everyone’s backs. Luckily for Gary, Seb only got as far as clumping him before the other brother, the one with the bust hooter, stopped him.’
Sam raised her eyebrows. Seb had been the one to put his own brother in hospital the other day? He couldn’t have…
John lowered his voice further. ‘And to make it worse, they’ve found out Gary isn’t a true Stoker… He’s not their real brother.’
Sam’s head swung back to the mingling crowd, able to make out the Stokers standing united – playing the part as they always did.
‘I mean, it’s not like Gary looks like the rest of them, is it?’ John added for good measure.
Sam had to agree that Gary certainly was the odd one out with his dirty blonde hair, compared to the striking dark hair of the rest of the Stokers, but to say that?
‘I keep saying they can’t be trusted. None of them! The shit will hit the fan, Samantha. You must cut all ties with them before it does.’
‘I’m not discussing this at my father’s funeral. We’ll talk about it another day,’ Sam snapped.
She watched John nod politely, then retreat back into the crowd, a rare smile across his face.
Sam’s brow furrowed. Seb couldn’t have attacked his brother – if Gary was his brother – because she’d been with him when the call came through. The only way that could be true was if he’d done it before she’d arrived at the Royal Peacock. And she didn’t believe that was the case.
John was lying and if he was lying about that, then he could be lying about everything.
Liam had watched Sam talking to her mother, which had only fuelled his desperation. A funeral was hardly the best place to ramp up his play for the woman, but he couldn’t help it. He’d do anything to be with her. Anything. Now she’d wandered off into the crowd, her face covered with grief and stress.
Of course, he knew Sam wasn’t going to be overly happy – it was her father’s funeral, after all, but there was something else. And whatever else had happened, it had made her unhappy and Liam didn’t like that. Not one bit. It would deflect her from appreciating the attention he needed to give her in order to regain his fast-receding place in her life.
Spotting Seb Stoker leaning against the bar with a self-assured look on that mug of his, Liam’s fists clenched. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, uneasy thoughts slithered back into his mind – the same thoughts which had plagued him ever since the evening Sam had spent in the man’s company. The nightmarish scene in his mind of Seb Stoker’s hands all over Sam, his mouth on hers – or worse – forcing himself on her…
Liam scowled. Samantha should be his. She should always have been his.
For God’s sake – even Len had all but promised that and he’d have had a fit if he’d thought one of the Stoker men was sniffing around.
Several times, Liam had seen Seb watching Sam like a hawk – studying her like his prey. But it wasn’t all bad. He’d also spotted Sam glaring at Seb. The only way he could describe what he saw in her eyes was something akin to malice.
Adrenaline flooded through Liam’s veins. If that bastard has touched her… Upset her…
Worse, Sam had shut down on him too, making excuses not to take his calls. Although he’d accompanied her to the church, he believed that would not have happened had Gloria not arranged it.
His eyes tracked back to Seb Stoker. How he’d love to plant his fist in the man’s chops.
Sensing someone approach, Liam turned. ‘Oh, hello, John. It went okay today, didn’t it?’
John’s usual morose expression remained static. ‘It went as well as could be expected.’ He nodded towards Seb Stoker. ‘I see he’s still hanging around?’
Liam bristled. ‘Yes, but there’s been no contact between him and Sam today. Nothing at all.’
John smiled inwardly, glad to hear things were working. He’d just drop a few words in this shit-for-brains’ ear to further the cause and then after that, with this lot busy, the coast was clear to nip out and see what Bedworth wanted. Why the man had asked to see him tonight was a mystery. Bedworth knew it was the goddamn funeral, but then again, being as it was important, he’d better go and see what was up.
He turned his attention back to Liam, who was hovering and waiting for him to respond. ‘Samantha must have finally seen sense and is doubting Stoker. Besides, I’ve heard he’s got other stuff on his mind too.’
Liam’s ears picked up. ‘Anything I should know about?’
John glanced around. ‘I shouldn’t really tell you this, but as Len held you in high regard, especially where his daughter was concerned, I will.’
Liam glowed. Everyone knew him and Sam should be together. He knew it! He was on a fast-track to success!
Despite wanting to break with habit and grin with a newly forming idea, John kept his face deadpan, adding a convincing hint of concern. ‘Before I tell you the rest, I think it’s only right to inform you Stoker is putting about his intention to make Sam one of his conquests in order to aid his mission. Apparently, he reckons it’s a dead cert.’
He watched in silent satisfaction at the growing anger forming on Liam’s face. Yep, he was bang on with that assumption too. This muppet’s obsession with Samantha made him another person to add to the ever-growing list of happy helpers, unwittingly aiding his goal.
Primed, Liam moved to storm back into the casino and lay Stoker out flat on his back, the disrespect of delivering the man’s comeuppance at Len Reynold’s wake the only thing stopping him.
Seething, he turned back to John, jaw clenched. ‘You’d best tell me what you know then, because I’m not having him use Sam as a notch for his filthy fucking bedpost,’ Liam spat.
The minute Tom saw John Maynard’s motor pull out from the car park, he made his move.
He grinned as he waved away the cloakroom attendant’s offer to take his jacket. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance or that could implicate him.
Appraising the sumptuous surroundings of the Orchid, Tom’s smile grew wider. Oh, very nice, he thought, his eyes taking in the opulence dripping from the chandeliers in the high-ceilinged casino lobby.
Yeah, this was the business and only served to underline just how much he stood to gain.
Glancing to his right, he spotted a gents toilet. Quickly slipping inside, he made his way straight into one of the many cubicles. He didn’t think he’d even been into a gents with more than one trap and they had at least eight in here. The place was like the Ritz.
As Tom shut the cubicle door, his eyes skimming over the gold taps, the line of basins and the spotless mirrors, he closed the thick wooden lid of the toilet and sat down, his fingers fumbling in his pocket.
Pulling out a small wrap of cocaine, he cut a thick line on the pristine enamelled cistern behind him. He needed a top-up before he lost his nerve.
Tom snorted the line through a rolled-up ten-pound note, sniffing the last bits deep into his nostrils. Licking his finger, he dabbed at the remaining bits of coke and shrugged. It was hardly like he’d get germs – the place was too bloody spotless.
Relaxing slightly, he allowed the cocaine to take effect. It was a hell of a risk being in the Orchid, but today was the chance of a lifetime and not one to waste. No one would notice him. There were so many people here, no one would be asked for membership cards. It was probably the one and only time in the Orchid’s history that the casino was closed to the public. Besides, it was also the only viable chance to get a peek at all of these bastards – both firms together in the same place for once.
Maynard wouldn’t want him here under any circumstances, but that wasn’t his problem. Neither was he stupid because Maynard was, at this very moment, on his way to the Aurora.
Tom grinned. He’d made sure word had been sent, saying it was important they meet. Clever, clever.
He’d known Maynard would rush to see what he’d been called for. He’d be thinking about himself as usual, the sly, greedy bastard.
Well, Maynard could fuck right off. Tom was doing everything which had been agreed, but he wouldn’t be stopped from doing his own thing in addition.
He’d already instructed that ugly slapper, Amelia, to keep Maynard entertained until he got back and this wouldn’t take long. Costing him an extra fifty quid it was, so the stupid bitch best do her job properly, otherwise she’d find herself in the same place as Jock Sawyer.
Tom’s yellowing teeth gleamed in the brightly lit cubicle as the rush of cocaine ramped up.
He grinned. There were plenty of ideas up his sleeve – all of which should bring a pretty pay-out. It was an unmissable opportunity and Maynard need never know he’d set foot in the place.
Tom’s face suddenly morphed into a grimace. The notion that his own child was somewhere within these four walls crept back into his head and he shook it away in irritation. What did it matter? The plain fact was that it didn’t. The only thing he wanted was payback and dues. Money plus some.
And that was what he would get. Thanks to Maynard, he’d now got an excellent opening.
Tom rose from the toilet seat, pocketed the remains of his wrap and grinned, the cocaine-induced confidence surrounding him like strong arms.
They were all here. All of them. Now all he had to do was get to the staff area. Once he’d done what was needed and got the required proof to continue his master plan, it wouldn’t take long to get his arse back to the Aurora.
No one would be any the wiser until things went pear-shaped and if he played his cards right, he’d be long gone by then. He wasn’t a gambler for nothing.