Jacqui Rose - Sinner

Alfie stayed silent for a moment before shrugging, trying to dispel his gnawing unease.

‘I’m fine. How many times do I have to tell you?’

‘Alf, it’s me you’re talking to. There’s something going on, I know there is. You’re distant. I can feel you pushing me away.’

Alfie looked at her evenly. ‘You think this is about Bree and you, don’t you?’

Franny bristled, her voice tight. ‘What … what are you talking about?’

Gently, Alfie took her hands. ‘I’m talking about you . You think I still miss her. That I’m still in love with her, don’t you?’

A flicker of relief crossed Franny’s face and more relaxed she said, ‘I don’t know – are you?’

‘No, and you know why?’ Franny shook her head but let Alfie continue to talk. ‘Because why would I want to waste my time on someone who didn’t love me back? I mean, she can’t have cared. She can’t have given a damn about me if she just dropped me the way she did. Going off like that without even a goodbye. I don’t know what I was thinking getting together with her in the first place.’

Seeming slightly distracted as if wanting to get on with what she had to do, Franny said, ‘You were hurt, Alfie. I understand. You thought I’d left you. It’s as simple as that.’

Alfie shook his head, genuine warmth and regret in his tone. ‘No, I was wrong, Fran. I’m surprised you don’t hate me. I put you through shit and hurt you badly, yet it’s not Bree sitting here, is it? It’s you … And I know this sounds bad, but it’s a good job that the pregnancy didn’t work out, otherwise if the baby had turned out to be mine, I’d have been lumbered with Bree for the rest of my life.’

‘Exactly, and I’m not holding any grudges, Alf. Bree is in the past now. She’s forgotten. What’s done is done. We don’t have to mention her again.’ Franny squeezed his hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek, indicating that the topic of conversation was now closed.

With the cocaine in his system making him flick from one mood to another, Alfie growled as he pulled away from Franny, snatching hold of the glass of whiskey on the rocks in front of him. He raised it.

‘Well let’s drink to that. Good riddance to her, that’s all I can say. I had a lucky escape from that bitch …’ Alfie paused, his demeanour once again changing as he thought about the letters. ‘But the point is, Fran, what’s going on with me, it isn’t about her. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. You know, making a go of this place, all the long hours, it catches up on a person. I’m not as young as I use to be.’

Seeing an opportunity, Franny stared at Alfie. ‘That’s why you should get away. Take a break. Go back to Spain. We could even open another club out there. You were happier when we were living out there. Think about it, Alf, it could work out great.’

‘You’re keen on getting rid of him all of a sudden. That’s all I seem to hear these days. If you ask me, it seems a bit odd.’

For the second time that evening, Franny jumped as she turned around to see Vaughn again, and like before he stared at her coldly.

With Vaughn making her feel paranoid, Franny hissed, ‘Well I didn’t ask you, and it’s not about being keen , Vaughn, or about it being odd. It’s about what’s best for Alfie, and in case you haven’t noticed, he’s not himself at the moment. If you want to see something else in that, be my guest, but let me tell you something, you’re wasting your time.’ She turned back to Alfie. ‘Look, Alf, I’ll see you later.’

Franny began to walk away through the crowd of noisy, milling people, but she stopped in her tracks as Vaughn caught up with her, speaking out of earshot of Alfie. ‘Where are you going, Fran?’

Slowly, Franny turned on her heel to stare back at Vaughn who stood inches away, his muscular body rigid with anger.

‘What?’

‘You heard me, where are you off to?’

Franny’s expression spoke hatred. ‘You’re like a dog with a bone, aren’t you, Vaughnie? What’s your problem?’

‘Just answer the question, Fran. It’s not that hard.’

Expert at keeping her temper even, Franny’s voice was devoid of emotion. ‘I’m going home. It’s been a long day. Happy now?’

‘Home? Are you sure about that?’

Snorting with derision, Franny shook her head. ‘Whatever it is you’ve got to say, just say it.’

Giving a cloying smile, his handsome face twisted with a hatred that matched Franny’s, he leant forward to whisper in her ear. ‘Oh, I will, when the time’s right, that is. When I’ve worked out what exactly it is you’re up to.’

Franny laughed scornfully, and then said above the music, ‘You’ve clearly got too much time on your hands, Vaughn, or maybe you just need to go and get laid. Now if that’s all, I’m going home.’

‘Not quite all … Tomorrow I think you and me should go over the club’s accounts and then you could explain to me why there’s a lot of unaccounted money going out of the business.’ Franny didn’t turn to acknowledge Vaughn’s words; she continued to walk straight out the door.

Outside in the street, Franny leant on the black, wrought-iron railings, welcoming the cool. Shaking, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply, feeling the beginning of a tension headache. There was no way she could meet Vaughn and go over the books because he would want answers, and she had none to give him. The last thing she could do was tell him why she’d been taking money out of the business without telling either him or Alfie. But she knew Vaughn well enough to know he wouldn’t back down, and very soon he’d cause her real trouble, which was one thing she couldn’t afford to happen. So she had to work out what she was going to do about Vaughn. One way or another she was going to have to stop him.

After taking a couple of minutes to compose herself, Franny pulled out her phone and dialled a number. It was answered after only two rings.

‘Hi, it’s me … Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be so angry, it’s just that you know you shouldn’t call me on this number; anyone could’ve picked up, and things are becoming really difficult. I think Vaughn’s on to me … Anyway, I’m coming now, okay? See you soon.’

As Franny pushed down her sense of guilt, she slipped the phone back in her pocket, hurrying along Sutton Row, not noticing Charlie Eton and his men striding towards the club.

Charlie smiled as he held a small machete in his hand. ‘So, come on then, ladies and gentlemen, who’s first?’ He tapped the weapon in his palm as he nodded to one of his men to lock the door. Terrified by the intrusion, the club girls and clients began to scream, running in panic towards the fire exit, but their way was soon blocked by a handful of Charlie’s men, who herded them into the corner like sheep.

Having just come back from the bathroom located at the back of the club, it took Alfie a few moments to realise what was happening. Directly, he jumped into action, catching a glimpse of Vaughn smashing a bottle into the face of one of the intruders on the far side of the room.

About to go and help, Alfie felt a hard punch to his head, which had him spinning round to come face-to-face with a short, Mediterranean-looking man, holding a large knife. Undeterred, Alfie grabbed the chair next to him. He swung it round, hitting and opening the side of the man’s face who cried out in agony, but spurred on from the pain, the man, now covered in his own blood, threw his weight on top of Alfie, sending them both crashing to the floor.

Quickly, Alfie scrabbled along the polished floor on his knees, lunging forward to grab the man’s neck and twisting him round in a headlock. He forced his fingers into the man’s eyes until he heard the squelching of flesh. Panting, he shoved the man away and watched for a moment as he squirmed about on the floor in agony. Then Alfie barked, ‘You prick – who sent you? You think you can come into my club and try to scare off my punters? I’ll show you.’ Raising his fist ready to finish off the job, Alfie froze as a piercing scream filled the air. He turned and was shocked to see Charlie Eton – who he hadn’t realised was behind this until that very moment – standing and grinning as he held his machete against the neck of one of the girls.