Jessie Keane - Lawless

The guard raised the rifle, and shot him in the head. The baker fell dead across Corvetto’s body.

Soon, Corvetto let out one last wheezing groan. He was dead too. Finally, Astorre’s revenge was complete.

Simon was in the small sitting room at the front of the Victorian villa, and the look on Ruby’s face when Daisy entered told her that Ruby wasn’t sorry for the interruption at all.

‘We have the Dubai contract now, so we’re rammed right up to next year,’ Simon was telling Daisy’s mother in his usual bragging tones. ‘Oh – Daisy,’ he said, getting to his feet. He came over and kissed his ex-wife’s cheek.

She hated him kissing her cheek. She wished he would just vanish from the planet, but he was the twins’ father.

He was still an attractive man, actually rather sexy – short, squat, powerfully built, with his thick russet-red hair and sharp hazel eyes. But his too-quick temper was betrayed by his high facial colour.

The Red Dwarf, people called him, and it suited him: he could kick off in spectacular style. A late order, a missed dinner, a mistake on an invoice, a misheard conversation. Anything would do it.

‘How are you, sweetheart?’ he asked.

I’m not your damned sweetheart , thought Daisy, teeth gritted.

‘Fine,’ she said.

Ruby shot her a sympathetic look. Ruby knew exactly how Daisy felt about her ex.

‘I was telling your mother about the new contract,’ he said.

‘Yes, I heard. Well done for that. Has Jody taken the twins upstairs, Mum?’ asked Daisy, wanting an excuse to get away from him.

When Ruby nodded, Daisy said: ‘Good, I’ll go on up.’

Jody was getting the twins into the bath, and for a while the misery of Daisy’s day was forgotten amid the splashes and laughs as the babies were bathed, fed and then put to bed. When she heard Simon’s BMW being driven away, Daisy headed downstairs. Ruby was closing the front door. She smiled at Daisy and linked her arm through her daughter’s as they went back into the sitting room.

‘It’s always so quiet the minute he’s gone,’ sighed Ruby. ‘He seems to suck the air out of a room, doesn’t he? What an exhausting man. Drink, Daisy?’ she offered. Ruby always had a sherry after work: she’d earned it, after all.

Into Daisy’s mind came a vision of Kit, spark-out drunk on the sofa. She’d never been an angel: her youth had been full of reckless rebellion, so much so that she’d scared herself. Only when she’d been reunited as an adult with her mother had she found any peace.

‘No thanks,’ she said.

‘How’s Kit?’ asked Ruby.

‘He’s going to take a break,’ she said. ‘I think he needs it.’

‘Good for him,’ said Ruby. She was hurt that Kit hadn’t phoned to let her know what he was doing, but at least a break would get him clear of Vittore, and that was a good thing. She stood up. ‘Come on, I’m starving. Let’s sort out dinner.’

‘Mum?’ said Daisy.

‘Hm?’

Oh what the hell. Best to just come out with it.

‘I’ve quit the store.’

Simon drove to his home deep in the pitch-dark Berkshire countryside, his mood lifting as he turned the BMW into the drive. He loved his house. It was big, white, impressive. Daisy had hated it, called it The Mausoleum, said it was miles from anywhere and cold as the Arctic tundra. No matter. Daisy was the past, anyway. Of course he would like to meet someone new, someone who could be a proper mother to his twins, not like her. Some lovely docile woman who adored being at home, who would be there waiting for him at the end of the day with the house all warm and welcoming, a hot meal cooked, ready to listen to his woes; that was his dream.

As he pulled up outside the garage block he gave a sharp sigh, seeing the house in total darkness. No warm, accommodating woman waiting for him. He’d heat something up himself, or maybe not bother, just grab a whisky and a sandwich. In the headlights he could see that the damned gardener had left one of the garage doors open again; he had told the bloody man about that on more than one occasion; there were thieves even out here, and some valuable stuff was stored in the garage. Why didn’t the fool listen?

Simon switched off the engine and all was suddenly blackness and silence but for the ticking of the engine as it started to cool. He got out, locked the car, stalked over to the open garage door, muttering in annoyance.

‘Hey,’ said a voice to his left.

He literally jumped. The shock of hearing someone in this place, in this dense dark country silence, was immense. He whirled around, his heart in his mouth. Saw a shadowy shape moving.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Simon demanded.

Then the strip light that hung from the beams inside the garage flickered on. He saw two men inside, big burly men in black coats. One of them, older and taller than the other, had a long puckered purple knife scar running the length of his left cheek. It was hideous. The scarred one was pushing an old chair into the centre of the concrete floor. The other one…

Simon felt his bowels contract as he saw what the other one was doing.

He turned to run.

The man who had spoken on his left moved in, grabbed him; another one came from the right. He started to resist, but to his shock one of them drew a gun and held it to his head.

‘Shut up,’ he said, and Simon instantly stopped struggling.

They nudged him towards the garage, towards the scarred one with the chair – and the other one with the rope that he had thrown over one of the beams after tying it into a noose.

Daisy woke to the sound of knocking. Her first thought was Matthew and Luke. With a mother’s instant alertness, she sprang up in bed and reached for the bedside light, turned it on. Blinking, she checked the alarm clock. Seven thirty in the morning. Outside, it was still dark and raining steadily. She couldn’t hear a sound from the nursery.

An owl hooted in the woods. Nothing else could be heard.

Had she dreamed it?

Then it came again. Knocking. Someone was at the front door. Her heartbeat picking up, she grabbed her robe and put it on, shuffled her feet into slippers and went out onto the landing to find her mother at the top of the stairs, flicking on the light. Ruby’s face was anxious.

‘Should I call Reg?’ asked Daisy. Maybe Reg, who was staying in the flat over the garage that was usually occupied by Rob, hadn’t heard a car pull up. But Daisy peered down into the gloom of the hallway and could see flashing lights, blue lights. ‘I think it’s the police,’ she said, and hurried down there, switching on lights as she went, Ruby following close at her heels.

Daisy was unlocking the door when Ruby stayed her hand. Ruby was thinking of Vittore, threatening Kit. You and yours , he’d hissed. She didn’t think Rob had relayed the full version to her, but she knew enough to be wary. What if these weren’t real policemen?

‘Who’s there?’ she called out.

‘Police, can you open the door please?’

Ruby hesitated. Where the hell was Reg when you needed him? She wished Rob was here instead. Rob would have been on the spot the instant anyone showed up. Then she heard other voices outside: Reg was out there. Better late than never. There was another knock at the door.

‘Open up, Miss Darke, police are here,’ said Reg’s foghorn voice.

Ruby glanced at Daisy, who looked as alarmed as she felt. Nothing good could ever come of a police visit at this early hour, they both knew that. She unlocked the door and opened it.

Reg was standing there in pyjamas and dressing gown, his white hair standing on end, with two uniformed police, one male, one female. Their patrol car was on the drive, lights still flashing, a radio blasting out intermittent, undecipherable words.