Lifting the bottle from the table, Marcus McAdam pours himself a glass and watches as Barry hands a brush to Rory to sweep up the broken glass on the floor.
‘How come I get all the shit jobs?’ Rory asks, tutting as he begins sweeping.
‘You pay your dues, you rise up the ranks,’ Barry says. ‘Look at Marcus here. He was in the same boat as you when he was your age.’
Marcus ignores them both and lifts the glass to his lips. The whisky hits the back of his throat and he grits his teeth as it burns.
‘What’s the update on the girl?’ Barry says and Marcus turns to face his dad. ‘You do have an update?’
‘Nah,’ Marcus replies, draining the glass and setting it back down on the table. ‘I think she’s long gone.’
‘That’s not an option, Marcus and you know it.’
‘Who’s the boss here?’ Marcus snorts. ‘It was me last time I checked. I told you, she’s long gone.’
Barry eyes Marcus for a moment and then turns to Rory, asking him to leave the room and do a security check on the rooms. Rory sighs in frustration and leaves the room. Whatever it is his dad has to say, Marcus knows it’s for their ears only.
‘This is fucking serious, boy. Do you think she won’t say anything? She could go to the filth, tell them about what we have going on here. Do you want them crawling around this place after all the work we’ve put in here?’ Barry sneers.
‘Relax, she doesn’t know anything. Not really. I didn’t get her that far. She was only dancing in the club before she left, that’s all. There’s nothing to tell. Gentlemen’s clubs aren’t illegal so we’re good.’
The words don’t pacify Barry as he starts to pace the floor. ‘You’d better fucking hope you’re right, Marcus.’
The men are silent for a moment as Marcus takes in the scene around him. Broken glass, the stench of gin stronger than the whisky he’d had a moment ago. He frowns.
‘What happened in here tonight?’
‘Your mother threw a bottle of gin at me.’
‘Don’t call her that.’ Marcus draws his eyes away from the mess on the floor and glares at his dad. ‘She’s not worthy of that title.’
Barry raises a brow and then his expression softens for a moment. ‘She didn’t want to hear the truth.’
‘You told her about Gordy and the hospital?’
‘Aye,’ Barry replies. ‘She didn’t like it.’
Marcus shakes his head, remembering the day that it happened. The argument that broke out between him and his dad was one of the worst they’d had. Marcus had insisted that he be the one to go to the hospital. He’d wanted to meet the man, the legend that was Gordon Aitken. Gordy, as his dad called him. Maybe if Marcus had had the chance to meet him, he might understand Lizzy’s decision when she’d had Marcus. Barry had said that Marcus would never understand the Aitkens and he should stop trying to pick them apart. She left him because she didn’t want him and that was all he needed in order to drive the organisation forward.
‘I’m going home. I’ll see you in a couple hours,’ Marcus says, heading for the door.
‘You alright to drive?’ Barry asks and Marcus hears the judgement in his tone.
‘What are you now? A law-abiding citizen?’ Marcus says without stopping.
As he walks along the hall towards the stairs, Marcus breathes through the anger inside. He might be on his way up, but Barry will never truly let him run things without overlooking every decision.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, a man passes by him and heads towards the main door. One of Marcus’s men opens it and the man leaves quickly, without looking up. Married most likely, unsatisfied and looking for that fantasy of a younger, more exotic female. That’s what this place was all about. And when the clients got what they wanted, they often had guilt written all over their faces, and their money lined Marcus’s pocket.
Marcus stops and stands next to the reception desk. Lizzy is packing up for the evening and she glances up at him.
‘What’s up with you?’ he asks.
Lizzy ignores him, pushing past him to climb the stairs. Marcus envisages that was how she walked away when she left him on his own as a baby.
The anger inside intensifies and Marcus heads for the door before he does something irreversible.