Jacqui Rose - Disobey

The room was packed with illegal gamblers and there was an air of excitement about the place as wealthy businessmen from all over laid thousands of pounds on the table, losing it in a turn of a card or a spin of the wheel.

‘Hey! Alfie!’ The voice sounded from behind him and before Alfie had a chance to turn round properly, he felt a punch land at the back of his neck, complete with knuckledusters. He leapt back as his men ran forward, swinging with his fists at the suited men. The other punters in the club ran over to the exit but it was blocked by a large group of Chinese men who’d somehow got in through the double-locked doors.

Immediately the men started attacking the terrified punters. Nunchucks and coshes, chains and knives were bandied round. Alfie caught sight of a rich American banker being stamped on by three of the perpetrators. Blood poured from the man’s face as he screamed at them to stop.

Alfie ran over to the far side, but was grabbed by a Chinese man with an ability to fight far superior to Alfie’s. The man roundhouse-kicked Alfie’s face, splitting open his lip and loosening one of his back teeth in the mix.

The next blow to Alfie, apart from to his pride was to his nose. A grinding of cartilage sounded as Alfie saw all around him his men being overwhelmed by the triads.

The side lunge to Alfie’s knees brought him down to the ground and he yelled out in pain as his head hit the sharp side of the corner of the bar. He felt the warmth of his blood trickling down his neck. It was all beginning to get blurred now and the room began to spin around. The people’s outlines began to fade in and out. Double vision halted any attempt for Alfie Jennings to fight back. Another pain hit him, this time in the stomach. The blow winded him and he struggled to breathe as he reached out to the wall to try and drag himself up. The boot to the back of his head saw Alfie sprawling on the floor. The next moment, he blacked out.

‘Will you just sit down, Vaughn!’ Casey Edwards sat at the kitchen table in Lola’s flat watching her soon-to-be husband pacing up and down. He’d been pacing for the last hour and a half, ever since he’d got the phone call from one of his men, and it was now playing on her nerves. ‘Vaughn, please! Can’t you go and pace somewhere else?’

‘I’m thinking.’

‘Well can’t you think in the car, I thought you wanted to get back home?’

Vaughn swung round to look at Casey. She was so beautiful and he was a lucky man, but she needed to understand things had changed. Everything had changed. And he wasn’t going anywhere, not until this was all over.

He’d just got a call from one of his men, letting him know there’d been some trouble at Alfie’s club, and also that Sarp, the Turkish restaurant owner from Greek Street, had gone missing. As for Alfie’s club, he didn’t know what was going on there but apparently something about a casino had been mentioned.

Vaughn shook his head as he thought about it. There was no way Alfie could really be so stupid, so fucking muppet-like as to open a casino right under the noses of the triads. No, he might be a lot of things and do a lot of things, but that? To bring the devil to the door, knowing it wouldn’t be just him who would be in the firing line. No, surely not.

Alfie had sat there and seen the state Lola was in when the triads had thrown a warning fire bomb in the café. He’d been as angry as the others to think the triads were coming on their territory. There was no way it was an act. Vaughn’s men must have got it wrong about the casino. Or they better have got it wrong. Because if they hadn’t, this stunt of Alfie’s would certainly be his last.

‘You go, Cass. I’m going to stay in Soho.’

Casey looked amazed. One of the things she loved about Vaughn was that he’d put all his old life behind him. He hadn’t seemed to miss his old life like so many of the other retired gangsters; he’d been satisfied to take it easy.

Casey had played hostess many times at the lavish dinner parties she and Vaughn had at his sprawling Kent mansion, listening to the retired faces who could no longer cut it or who no longer had the edge to stay; all dissatisfied and unable to take to civilian life. But Vaughn had been different; he’d found peace outside the world of violence and multi-million-pound deals. But since the attack on Lola’s café last week he’d become obsessed with catching up with the people who’d done it. Almost overnight, the Vaughn Casey had known changed into a hard ruthless man, set on revenge.

‘Vaughn, this isn’t a one-man crusade. What about the others, they can help sort it out as well. There’s Del, Johnny, Alf …’ The moment Casey began to say Alfie’s name she immediately regretted it, as she saw the look in Vaughn’s eye. His voice was cold and agitated.

‘Alfie? Are you fucking serious? That man’s caused enough grief, wouldn’t you say, Cass?’

Casey decided to remain silent. Vaughn and Alfie’s history went way back. At one time, at the height of Vaughn and Alfie’s friendship breakdown, Alfie had told Vaughn he’d slept with her. And although Alfie Jennings had eventually admitted nothing had happened between him and Casey, it was still a sore spot for Vaughn when she talked about Alfie with any form of affection or positivity.

‘Well, Cass?’ Vaughn stood in front of Casey. She could see he was pushing for a fight, which would be his excuse to stay in London without having to discuss it with her. Well she wasn’t going to be goaded. If he wanted to stay in Soho then she wasn’t going to let him put it on her. She remained silent, staring at Vaughn.

Eventually Lola, having finished consuming a runny egg sandwich, broke the silence.

‘Listen Casey, Vaughnie is just doing what he knows best. He’s old school. Them triads need to be stopped and put in their place. This is Soho. Our Soho. Me and Vaughn’s. All of us have been round here as long as me memory will take me back. It’s where we belong. It’s all some of us know; all some of us want. You’re not from round here, love, so it’s different for you, harder for you to understand. But this is our home and we’ll do anything to protect it. So let Vaughnie do what needs to be done.’

Casey shook her head. ‘Lola, you know I love you like my own mum, and you’re right I’m not from round here, but neither is Vaughn, not anymore. He’s moved on. I’m not asking him to turn his back on you or Soho, I’d never do that, but he needs to leave it to the others, take a step back.’

Lola shook her head, her warm smile cutting through her craggy wrinkled skin. ‘Cass, it’s in him. Soho is in his blood. No matter what, that will always be the case and no matter how much he loves you, Soho will always come first.’

Casey was about to object but as she watched Vaughn walk out of the room without saying a word, something told her Lola might just be right.

The AA meeting in Greek Street was empty, save for an old man and a twenty-something skinny woman whose eyes gave away her hard life. But it wasn’t the people Casey had come to see, it was the sense of support she felt when she walked into the hidden meetings which could be found in every town. These sobriety meetings had saved her life. Stopped her from destroying herself when nothing else could reach her.

But as she’d got better, she’d relaxed, hadn’t bothered attending so many meetings, and that had been fine, but one morning last month she’d woken up and from nowhere the cravings had returned. That overwhelming sense of needing a drink. No matter what. No matter how much it hurt her or anyone else, the need to feel the burn of the alcohol hit the back of her throat had become overwhelming.