Chapter Twelve

Angela sat in Jordan’s office and looked around. She could hear a voice outside and knew he would be joining her soon. His voice was getting louder and louder, and whoever he was talking to, he was giving it to them with both barrels. The office door crashed open and he stormed inside. Angela waited until he settled and cringed as she added fuel to the fire. He was going to go ballistic when he heard the latest news. ‘There was a few problems in the club last night, Jordan. I’m not sure if the boys have filled you in, but Lenny’s boys were in causing a scene. Cheeky bastards, they were blatantly groping the girls and being loud.’ Jordan was alert, ears pinned back. She had his full attention. ‘Lenny’s boys were talking to our girls, especially Jenny, trying to poach them for their club.’

Jordan smashed his clenched fist on the table, papers flying to the floor.

‘He can fuck right off if he thinks he’s taking any of my girls. I’ve invested time and money into each of them.’

Angela spoke quietly. ‘I’ve heard whispers. A few of the girls are thinking about it. To tell you the truth, they’re sick to death of Karla and how she speaks to them. I can’t blame them really. She’s a bleeding nightmare.’

‘Angela, I thought you were my wingman with these girls. Sort them out, will you? Offer them a few quid extra. I can’t lose girls, not when the club is doing so well.’

Angela sat cracking her knuckles. ‘Cart Karla, and the girls will fall into line. Honest on my life, I’ve had to hold Jenny back a few times. She wants to leather Karla, like I’ve told you before.’

Jordan inhaled deeply. ‘Leave Karla to me. I’ll have a word with her. But for now, I need to show Lenny that my girls are off limits. What the fuck is he playing at, sending his boys in here? The guy is a slimy rat. He’s up to something.’

‘It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Jordan, you know that without me telling you. The girls will go where they get treated the best and, from what I’ve seen, you’ll be lucky if they stay until the end of the month.’

Jordan held his head in his hands and sat thinking for a few seconds. ‘I might pay Lenny a visit. If he thinks he’s being a smart-arse sending his boys in here, I’ll walk straight through his front doors and see what he has to say. Yes, I’ll go team-handed and show the wanker I’m ready for whatever he’s got to give.’

Angela stood up, walked to Jordan’s side and placed her hand on his arm. She inhaled his aftershave. It was the same one he used to wear when he was seeing her. ‘Jordan, Lenny Jackson is a lunatic. Take my advice and stay well away. You’ve worked hard to get where you are today, don’t go and lose it because of pride. Just forget about it.’

Jordan lifted his head and looked deep into her eyes. There was fear there, for sure, and he swallowed hard. ‘I have to defend what I have. He knows that more than anyone. He’s an old devil who’s ready for the knackers’ yard. I’d rip him in two, given the chance. But maybe you’re right. I’ll send the boys in first.’

Angela backed off and headed towards the door. ‘Like I said, be careful what you’re starting. Lenny won’t take anything lying down.’

‘Shut the door behind you, Angela, and go and have a word with the girls for me. I’ll be in soon to see them.’

Jordan and his boys parked up outside Lush Laps nightclub. It was busy tonight and they could hear the music from their cars. Jordan turned to face the hulking guy in the passenger seat. The guy was like a giant.

‘Right, go in and order a drink. I’m sure within a few minutes Lenny will get word that you’re in there. I only want to keep them on their toes, nothing major, just a little warning.

‘Consider it done, mate. If any of them pricks think they can do anything, I’ll snap them in two, pal.’

It was music to Jordan’s ears. This was dangerous ground and there was no room for hesitation.

Jordan stayed put and left his men to do his dirty work. There was no point in him showing his face, not yet anyway. Let the foot soldiers do their work before the generals met. He watched. His men hadn’t even walked into the club and already their presence was felt. A few of the bouncers were whispering to each other and he could tell his boys had unsettled them. Satisfied he’d defended his honour, he drove off.

Jordan arrived back at Passion and immediately clocked his wife sat at the bar. He shook his head and marched over to her with a face like thunder. He dragged her by the arm to the end of the bar away from the punters. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing here again? I didn’t mind the other night, but I’m not having you here every fucking night. Get home.’

‘Take your hands off me, you idiot.’ Pamela growled at him, and wriggled free. She straightened her short black dress and flicked her hair back. ‘I can come here whenever I want. This club is half mine, or are you forgetting that?’

Jordan gritted his teeth tightly together. He didn’t like the backchat. He looked around him before he dragged his wife out of the club. Her voice was loud and she was making a scene. ‘Shut the fuck up,’ he sneered. Once he was outside, he gripped her by the scruff of the neck and flung her over his car with force. Her body crashed against the cold metal and she screamed out in pain.

‘There’s no need for this! Stop thinking you can tell me what to do, when you can’t. I’ve told you, time and time again, you don’t own me. Carry on and I’ll be in here every night. What’s wrong, eh? Are you scared I will uncover the trollop you’re banging? Don’t think I don’t know, Jordan. I know you of old, and I know when you’re screwing somebody else.’

He ran at her and squeezed his right hand around her jaw, spit spraying from his mouth. ‘Don’t do it, Pam. Keep your mouth shut. Get in the car and go home. You know what will happen if you don’t be quiet, don’t you?’ He pushed her away and watched her with eager eyes.

‘Do what you’re doing, Jordan. If beating me is the way you get your kicks, then fucking do it. I’ll always get back up, and then what? I’ve told you before, you can’t hurt me anymore.’ She went nose to nose with him and spat in his eye. This was bad, very bad indeed.

Jordan moved quickly, gripped his wife by her hair and swung her around like a ragdoll. Screaming, howling in pain, Pamela tumbled. Once she’d fallen to the floor, he brought his foot back and booted her again and again, each kick landing deep into her lower body. Why did nobody hear her screams? Surely somebody must have seen or heard something? Or worse, was it all being witnessed and people were too scared to get involved?

Jordan bent his knee and looked down at his wife. The corner of her eye was bleeding. He wiped his finger across the gash and stuck his tongue out to taste the blood. What kind of person did something like that? Jordan let out a menacing laugh and ran his finger down his wife’s face, smearing the bright-red claret all over her cheeks. His voice changed, chilling tones now. ‘I can carry on, or take you home. Speak to me, woman. What do you want to do?’

The poor woman could barely answer. She croaked, her words almost inaudible, ‘Take me home.’

Jordan gripped her by the hair and dragged her head back. ‘Do you know how much shit I’ve got going on at the moment? And here’s you thinking you can come into the club flirting with all the punters. Do you think you can still pull the men, eh? Is that what it is, you want somebody new?’

Pamela was struggling to breathe, her eye closing as a pocket full of fluid filled over it, the swelling distorting her face. She was dragged to her feet and flung into the back of his car.

Once Jordan started the engine, he dipped the rear-view mirror so he could see her in it. His nostrils flared and the vein at the side of his neck was bulging through the thick skin. ‘Look at what you made me do again. Didn’t I tell you to keep your mouth shut? But you didn’t listen, you never fucking listen, woman. You always push me over the edge.’ His voice was getting louder: he was winding himself up. ‘You’ve probably been shagging someone behind my back, haven’t you? You dirty little slag. Is that what it is? It all makes sense now. That’s why you’re all fucking dressed up. Have you been with him? Go on, tell me now, have you been getting fucked by someone else?’ He slammed the brakes on and twisted his body around in his seat so he could grab her. But his large hand struggled to reach. He looked at her and his eyes had changed. He’d lost the plot, for sure. ‘Tell me his name. Tell me who it is.’

Pamela just lay there, summoning the energy to speak. ‘You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, Jordan Maylett. For every tear I’ve cried, you’ll cry a bucket. Trust me, this won’t go on for ever. Stop turning it on me like you always do. It’s you who’s fucking about, not me.’

Jordan froze and looked deep into her eyes. Whatever he could see in them he didn’t like. There was no fear anymore, he could sense that. She wasn’t apologising, wasn’t backing down this time. He skidded out onto the road like a maniac, nearly smashing straight into another car. He never spoke another word all the way home.

Clayton and Elsa lay on the sofa, watching a film. It was nearly time for her to go before she got tempted to cross a line. Clayton held his head up and listened carefully. ‘That’s a car pulling up outside.’ He stretched his neck and tried to get a look out of the window. ‘It looks like my old man’s car. I wonder why he’s home early? We never usually see him until the morning.’ He looped his arms behind his head and carried on watching the film.

Elsa straightened her clothes and sat up. She had to look respectable, make a good impression. The front door opened, then quickly slammed shut. The walls shook, and Elsa looked over to Clayton. Loud voices in the hallway. Clayton bolted up from his seat.

‘Wait here a minute.’ He ran into the hallway.

Elsa could hear raised voices, but not what was being said. There was a man’s voice and, whatever he was saying, he was furious. A woman crying, then screaming at the top of her voice. Oh my God, it was Pamela. Had there been an accident? Elsa sat tapping her fingers. What the hell should she do? Should she go and help, see if she was alright?

Clayton rushed back into the room. ‘You need to go. I’ll walk you home. I need to get out of this fucking house before I stab that cunt.’

Elsa didn’t ask any questions, she slipped her shoes back on and stood up. Clayton was fuming. He punched the wall a few times, and let out a scream from the pit of his stomach. What on earth was going on? Elsa walked to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he pushed her away. ‘Nah, I don’t need any comfort, Elsa. I’m a big boy now and I can deal with my own shit.’

There were no words left for her to say. She waited at his side.

‘You don’t know my dad. He’s a bully, always has been. I …’ Clayton stopped, as if there was something it hurt him to say.

He led her through the hallway. Elsa could hear Pamela whimpering and crying from upstairs. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She wanted to go to her, but Clayton opened the front door and waited for her to step outside.

‘You mark my words, there’ll be truckloads of presents here tomorrow. Flowers, chocolates, jewellery. He always licks arse when he’s panned her,’ Clayton fumed. ‘He’s fucking wrong in the head. I swear I’ll never, ever, hit a woman in my life. It’s the lowest of the low.’

Elsa knew now what had gone on. After all, it wasn’t rocket science, was it? ‘Will your mam be alright? We should have taken a look at her before we left. What if she’s seriously hurt?’

Clayton sighed. ‘My dad has a medical kit. He’ll be putting ice on her eyes as we speak. It’s usually for the boys – if his lads get in a bit of bother, or the bouncers handle some dodgy punters. But it’s not the first time he’s used it on her. It’s always the same old story. I don’t know why she puts up with him.’ Clayton stopped walking and zipped his coat up. The wind was picking up, and he could feel small drops of rain starting to fall on his cheeks. He stopped in a bus shelter.

‘Come over here and sit for a minute, Elsa. I’ve never discussed my family life with anyone before. But I feel you will be around me and my family for a long time, so you need to know what you’re letting yourself in for. About what he does. And about what I …’ Before he could say any more, Clayton’s phone lit up with a text message and he turned away from her before he read it. It was obvious he didn’t want her to see it. Elsa sat down on the small red plastic seat. The traffic seemed to have gone quiet and she could hear him loud and clear when he turned back.

‘He’s always battered her. He’s got anger problems; I think the drugs make him worse, though.’

‘What, he takes drugs?’ Elsa was gobsmacked Clayton was so open about it. And here she was thinking her family was fucked up.

‘They all sniff, Elsa. It goes with the territory. Don’t get me wrong, he’s calmed down a lot these days. In his day, he was snorting cocaine from the moment he opened his eyes to the minute he went to bed. His jaw was always swinging low. He’s been in rehab, cleaned himself up, but he always goes back on it. Mum didn’t tell me that, I heard her saying it to him when they were arguing. They forget I can hear everything. I’ve heard a lot more, too.’

‘I’m shocked, Clayton. Honest, on my life, I thought you had the perfect family when I first met you. Can’t we get your mam some help? Phone the police or something, get Women’s Aid involved? I know a woman who got help from them when her husband was abusing her. She was a right mess when she finally left him, honest, she was ready for a nervous breakdown.’

‘No way! The dibble are the last thing we need in this family. We’re not grasses. My dad would string me up if he thought I was a Judas. Our family does have values, you know, and snitching is not something I even want to talk about. And this isn’t just about family, it’s about business. I’ve got to see both sides.’

She touched his cheek with her long cold fingers. ‘So, where does it stop? He can’t keep battering your mam every time he’s having a bad day. Your mother is beautiful, she doesn’t deserve it.’

His sprang to his feet and shouted, ‘Don’t you think I know that? I’ve lay in bed listening to her sobbing her heart out. Do you know how that feels not to able to do fuck all?’ He booted the side of the bus-shelter, causing it to shake. ‘It feels like I’m a coward. No balls to tackle my old man. I should be whacking a baseball bat over the fucker’s head. It’s coming though, Elsa, oh yes, it’s coming. He knows it, too, he could see it in my eyes tonight. I’ve put up with too much for too long – first because my mam told me to, then because I had to, if I wanted to show him I should have a seat at the table one day when it came to the business. But he’s gone too far this time …’

‘Can I come around tomorrow and see her? Please, I just need to let her know that she is not alone.’

Clayton smiled softly and his voice was calming down. ‘You’re special, you are, Elsa. Look, I’ll ask her, but she’ll be black and blue. She might not even let me in her room for a few days. But whatever happens, please, keep this to yourself. Like I said, it’s private family stuff that I want to stay between us.’

‘My lips are sealed. I’ll never breathe a word, but please tell your mam I’ll be around tomorrow. I feel sick, Clayton, the thought of her being hurt has made my stomach turn.’

He stood and pulled her to her feet. ‘Come here and give me a squeeze.’

Elsa could feel his solid arms wrap around her body, and, despite everything she’d heard tonight, she felt safe.

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Mary lay in bed, and tossed and turned. Sleep seemed a million miles away tonight. First Karla had been out on the tiles even more than usual, and now Elsa was out late. She reached over and flicked her small bedside light on. For a few seconds, she lay there staring into space. Then she opened the small drawer at the side of the bed and pulled out a letter from a white envelope. She checked her door was closed and slowly began to read the letter, over and over. Finally, it fell to her chest and she closed her eyes for a second. Her fist curled up slowly as she spoke to herself. ‘It’s about time I paid you a visit, isn’t it?’ She rolled onto her side and flicked the lamp off. The silver shimmer of the moon shone into the bedroom, lighting the whites of Mary’s eyes. She was up to something.