Caz Finlay - The Boss

Despite her hatred for Nathan, he had at least given her Jake, and because of that a part of her would always be connected to him. Grace knew that she would never escape him entirely, so she’d had to figure out a way to protect herself from him instead. And she had, making sure that she would never again be at the mercy of the monster she’d married.

Grace had no doubt that Nathan believed he’d made the decision to stop harassing her entirely on his own. He would never have done so otherwise. She knew him too well; knew exactly how to play him. Smiling to herself, she recalled the night she’d met a man named Patrick Carter. An encounter that would change her life beyond all recognition and lead to the realization that she could play Nathan Conlon at his own game – and win.

Grace watched as the attractive man in the suit threaded his way through the crowd towards the bar. He looked vaguely familiar to her, and she was sure she’d met him before but couldn’t place him.

‘Pint of Stella please, love,’ he said.

‘Coming right up,’ she smiled as she set about pulling his pint.

‘Grace Sumner, isn’t it?’ he asked.

She nodded, surprised that he knew her maiden name. Most people knew her as Conlon now, much to her annoyance. ‘Do I know you?’ she asked.

‘You used to,’ he smiled. ‘But I’ve not seen you since you were a dot.’

‘I thought I knew your face.’

‘Patrick Carter.’ He extended his hand to shake. ‘You can call me Pat. I knew your dad. We went way back.’

Grace knew his name. Patrick Carter was a Liverpool legend. He’d worked for Nathan’s old boss, Tommy McNulty, and she wondered briefly if he’d worked for Nathan too. Carter had a reputation for being as hard as nails. Rumour had it he’d once been jumped by a rival firm. Six of them had taken him on and all six had ended up in intensive care, while Patrick had escaped with nothing more than a cut lip.

‘Oh, you were one of those friends, were you?’ she teased him.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he laughed.

‘I know all about my dad’s colourful past, Pat. And no offence, but you look just the type.’

‘I wasn’t aware we all looked the same,’ he chuckled.

‘Yes.’ She nodded as she passed him his drink. ‘Trust me. I used to be married to one of you lot.’

Patrick nodded. ‘Yeah, I know. Nathan Conlon.’

Grace bristled. Mentally checking that her mobile phone was in her trouser pocket should she need to call someone to escort Mr Carter from the premises. Nathan’s former colleagues, John or Ben would do that for her if she asked.

‘Look, if you’re here to settle old scores with Nathan then you’d better think again. I have nothing to do with him anymore. This place is sod all to do with him.’

Patrick shook his head. ‘Not at all. I’ve just got out after a long stretch. Only got out a couple of months ago. I was sorry to hear about your dad,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to pay my respects and see what the old place looked like. I spent a lot of my early twenties in here.’ Taking a sip of his pint, he looked around him. ‘It looks exactly the same.’

Grace smiled. She’d worked hard over the past two years to ensure that the pub was restored to its former glory. Nathan had almost ruined the place. Milking it for every penny, allowing the place to become run down and letting his mates have free rein. As a result, they had lost all of their regular custom.

‘I appreciate your condolences, Pat.’

Grace watched him drinking his pint for a moment. He looked a little younger than her dad would have been. He was tall, with dark hair, greying at the temples and brown eyes. He must have been a hit with the ladies in his younger days. Probably still was.

‘So what are you up to now that you’re out?’ she asked him. By the looks of his suit, he was doing well for himself.

‘This and that.’ He shrugged. ‘And how about you? Is that husband of yours behaving himself in the nick?’

Grace laughed. ‘I doubt that. And I told you, I have no idea what he’s doing in there. I have nothing to do with him now. At least I try not to. If only he would bloody leave me alone.’

‘Oh?’ Patrick raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Giving you a hard time, is he?’

‘That would be an understatement. I’m sure that man lives to torment me.’

‘Well maybe there’s something we can do about that, Grace?’

‘I can handle him,’ Grace replied. She didn’t want to be in Patrick’s debt, as nice as he seemed, she really didn’t know him at all.

‘Look, Grace,’ he said with concern in his eyes. ‘Your dad was a good friend of mine. He helped me out of a few sticky situations. I know he left this life behind, but I always respected him for that. If there is a way I can help his daughter out, then it would be my privilege to do so. Besides, my lads were given hefty sentences because of Nathan Conlon’s inability to keep his trap shut, so any chance to give that greedy bastard his comeuppance would be a bonus for me.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ she said to him.

He nodded. ‘You should. You seem like a woman with her head screwed on and I bet you know what makes that fucker tick better than anyone. I’m sure you could fix your problem all by yourself, but sometimes it’s good to have a little help.’

Grace smiled at him. She couldn’t deny there was some truth in what he said. She knew her ex-husband better than anyone alive. His insecurities; his weaknesses. Maybe she really would think about it.

Five weeks later, Grace and Patrick were sitting in her living room drinking tea. He’d become a regular visitor to the pub. On the nights she wasn’t working, he was invited upstairs to the flat once Jake was tucked up in bed and they’d talk long into the night.

‘So, you, my dad and Tommy were the best of friends then?’ Grace asked.

She’d learned about her dad’s connection to Nathan’s former boss, Tommy, a couple of years earlier. It had come as a massive shock at the time. Her dad, the gangster. She’d only ever known him as a funny, loving, if overprotective, father. She’d wished she’d known before Tommy’s death. Among other reasons, it would have been nice to talk to someone who’d known her dad back then.

‘Yeah. Thick as thieves we were. Funny really when you think about it. We were thieves and we were pretty thick too,’ Patrick laughed.

‘I suppose Tommy was always the ringleader? He seemed the type to always want to be in charge.’

‘No.’ Patrick shook his head. ‘Your dad was the boss. Ever since we were kids. He was just a natural leader, you know. Me and Tommy followed him around like a pair of stray dogs until he finally gave in and let us join his gang.’ Patrick laughed again at the memory.

‘What? No?’ Grace could hardly believe Patrick was talking about her dad.

‘Yeah. Well he was a couple of years older than us. And the girls loved him; he always had loads of dough, so me and Tommy thought he was the dog’s bollocks. He had quite the little empire built by the time he left it all behind.’

‘And he gave it all up, just like that?’

‘Just like that. When you were born, your mum told him she wasn’t having anymore of his nonsense. So, he walked away and he concentrated on this place.’

Grace shook her head in disbelief at the life her father had once lived. The life she’d known nothing of until after he’d died. She felt immensely proud of her mum though, standing up to her dad like that. ‘If only I could have given Nathan that kind of ultimatum,’ she sighed.

‘Wouldn’t have made any difference to him, love. Your dad gave it all up because he loved you and your mum too much not to. All the unpleasant stuff was a means to an end for your dad. But that’s what Nathan lives for.’