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  Ray was still concerned for Sharon’s welfare even though she felt fine. He seemed to think that what she had gone through, what he called her ‘travail’, had been far more taxing than she was letting on! But she loved him even more for this caring of her and his family, because that is what they were – a wonderful family. She thanked God for him every day of the week.

  ‘Dad? Is it still OK for you to take us to football and that?’

  Liam was worried that, now his sister had arrived, they would not be able to do as much stuff as usual. Not that he minded – he loved the little thing – but he liked his clubs and he would be quite happy to find his own way to wherever he needed to go. Like his brother, he was chomping at the bit to get a touch more freedom from his mum and dad.

  Ray smiled understandingly. ‘Nothing will change, Liam. I promise you.’

  Sharon was listening quietly, waiting to hear what was being said.

  Liam tried again. ‘The thing is, I am quite happy to get the bus or trains, like. So is Lenny.’

  Sharon saw Ray stifle a smile as he said forcefully, ‘No, that’s all right, son. I will still accompany you, don’t you worry about that.’

  Annie had to leave the room. Sharon followed her, and together they laughed at Liam’s attempt to get a bit more freedom.

  ‘They are good lads, Sharon, but you can’t blame them for trying!’

  ‘I suppose. I’m more pleased that they have accepted little Kathy so easily. I mean, they really do love her.’

  Annie smiled and Sharon could see the traces of her former beauty, though she still looked good for her age, there was no doubting that.

  ‘Thing is, lads especially need to be let off the leash, you know? Not that I am criticising, mind. But I do think that these days children are mollycoddled. I read the other day that young ones were leaving university after having gone great guns with their studies but they didn’t know how to look up a bus timetable! Have you ever heard the like!’

  Sharon was suitably shocked but she understood that Annie was telling her it was time the boys were let free. She knew she was right, but it was hard just the same. She decided she would let them travel to school with their friends; that would be a good start. Annie had decided to move to the house in the village to be near her grandchild although Sharon would happily have her living with them. Annie was a calming presence in the home, and she was still young at heart. Sharon guessed it would be hard for her to give up her life and friends in Gateshead where she seemed very settled and happy.

  ‘Instead of moving to the village, Annie, why don’t you move in to the gatehouse here? That way you would have your freedom but you would be nearer to us. Then you could commute – you know, spend time at your home up North and time here.’

  She saw the relief in Annie’s eyes and she knew that, for all her talk, she was just doing what her son wanted.

  ‘You have a great life up there with lots of friends. I would love you here, Annie, you know that. I just worry you are giving up too much.’

  Annie hugged this wonderful girl her son had been lucky enough to find and said seriously, ‘We don’t deserve you, Sharon. You are a wonderful and insightful woman who is far too good for that hooligan I raised!’

  Sharon hugged her back tightly and she felt choked up as she said honestly, ‘That hooligan you are talking about was the best thing that happened to me and my boys.’

  ‘And you, lady, are the best thing that could have ever happened to him.’ Then she said quietly, ‘He did nine long years, and that affects a body. When he came home he was like a rudderless boat. Then he met you. I thank God every day because you and those boys gave him a purpose. From day one it was like he was on a mission to make you happy and I think he managed that. But, more to the point, you made my only son into a happy and contented man.’

  They were hugging again and that was how Ray found them and, embracing them both, he said loudly, in a thick Geordie brogue, ‘Why-aye, ladies, why you bubblin’?’

  And Annie, laughing loudly, said, ‘We are crying with happiness, you big streak of piss!’ feeling that she had finally come home.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four

  Bobby Carlton was visited while on remand by a young man called Elton Mills. Elton was black, cockney and had a way with him that Jack Johnson felt was going to get him far. He was handsome, easy-going and he could fight like a paratrooper if the need arose. As young as he was, he was already making a name for himself. He had that wonderful combination of attributes that would take him a long way in his chosen occupation. He was intelligent and he could suss a situation within nanoseconds. This was why Ray and Jack had given him the job of approaching Bobby Carlton; the boy had never even been cautioned so he could move from nick to nick relatively easily.

  ‘He fucking wants what?’

  Elton smiled easily, his sweet face belying the steel trap of a mind that it hid from the people around him. Elton already had two bodies under his belt. One was personal: the man who had hammered the fuck out of his mother for years and then mysteriously disappeared one night, to the amazement of everyone. He was buried on the Essex marshes, beaten to death with a crowbar. The second body was an honest-to-goodness job. Elton had been paid handsomely – in fact, he had bought a house for his mum with the proceeds – to remove a gang member who had fallen foul of the boss he had been involved with. Like Elton’s stepfather, the gang member had never been found. Elton believed – rightly – that if there was no body, how the fuck could there be a crime? He was a very cool, calm and collected young man. He had the handsome face of an angel and the mind of a demon.

  Ray was already keen to make him his protégé. Elton was a good kid and, at nineteen, he understood more than men three times his age did. Like Ray Donovan, he had no conscience whatsoever – it was just work to him. Ray was painfully aware that people like them were few and far between. Oh, there were the lunatics who made a splash by being vicious and vindictive, but real violence wasn’t personal. It was something that needed to be done quietly, unobtrusively and with the maximum of secrecy. You did not advertise serious lunacy; the person involved was astute enough to guess that their particular forte would eventually be discovered by the relevant parties.

  But those cunts who told all and sundry the ins and outs of their vicious dealings were no more than cunts to themselves. They were inevitably caught and banged up within a few years, when even their contemporaries breathed a sigh of relief. No one around them could ever trust them – they were the original loose cannons and they always shat on their own doorsteps. They would attack a local boy they thought looked at them sideways, or batter the mother of their children. They always fucked up big time – it was the nature of the beast. They went away for years, stuck in the nick on temazepam or Dolmatil or, worst-case scenario, they were drugged up until they couldn’t string a sentence together. Not that they were that great at it before their capture.

  No, young Elton Mills was a find, and Ray understood that, and that was why he had sent him on this job. It was Elton’s trial and no one knew that better than Elton himself.

  He smiled that winning smile that got him laid on a regular basis and said earnestly, ‘It is a genuine offer. Mr Johnson, Jack Johnson, is willing to purchase your holdings for a serious amount of poke. He wishes you well, and he just wants to make your latest difficulties a bit easier for you to bear.’

  Bobby Carlton sat back in his seat and stifled the urge to laugh at this little black fucker who thought he could talk to him like he was a cunt.

  ‘A genuine offer, is it? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m on remand in Funky Brixton. There’s a lot of your people in here – that is why it’s called Funky fucking Brixton.’

  ‘And that is relevant because?’

  Elton looked at the man before him with a real arrogance that was not lost on Bobby Carlton. He actually felt a shiver of apprehension at the boy’s demeanour; it occurred to him that this kid didn’t give a flying fuck
either way.

  Elton looked suitably bored as he said quietly, ‘I’ll take that as a no then, shall I?’

  ‘Tell Jack fucking Johnson that he can stick his fucking offer right up his jacksy.’

  It was said loudly and Elton knew that people were watching them, so he stood up and, offering his hand to Bobby Carlton, he said in a neutral voice, ‘I will do that, sir. It was an honour to meet you. I wish you well in your future endeavours.’

  He walked away without a backward glance and Bobby Carlton had the terrible suspicion that he had been well and truly mugged off. He was also feeling very unsettled, as if he had just made an enemy for life. Which, of course, is exactly what had happened.

  Elton Mills would not forget that visit for a very long time. He was a man with no conscience and the urge to harm people he saw as beneath him and those he respected. Elton Mills was the new generation.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five

  ‘A cunt of cunts, if you will excuse the expression. He had no interest in even listening to the proposal. He just made a big drama out of it for the benefit of the people in the visiting room.’ Elton’s disgust at the treatment he had received was evident to everyone in the room, as was his disappointment at Bobby Carlton’s stupidity.

  Jack Johnson was impressed with the lad, and he knew that Ray was intending to mentor him. Elton Mills was a one-off; that would always be his strength and his weakness. Jack thought the lad was very lucky to have been discovered by a man like Ray Donovan. He had a feeling that young Elton Mills thought along the same lines. He was a shrewd young man with a bright future ahead of him if he used his loaf of bread.

  ‘Well, Jack?’

  Ray looked at Jack with a neutral expression and he was pleased to note that Elton was watching his every move. He really liked this kid and he knew that Barton had introduced them for a reason. They were kindred spirits.

  Ray continued, ‘Bobby Carlton was always a cunt. Let’s talk to Teddy before we go any further. He is already Grade-A, even on remand. They have him in Belmarsh, treating him like a fucking IRA terrorist. He is the brains of the outfit – and I use that term loosely – so I think we should pay him the courtesy of a call. That way, there can be no recriminations or comebacks.’

  Reggie thought that was an excellent idea, so he said as much. They had to cover their backs with this latest escapade, even though things needed to be seen to be done. ‘You are right. We need to approach both the main players.’

  Jack knew when he had a fait accompli on his hands, but he had taken umbrage and that was never a good thing for anyone involved, least of all the person who had been the cause of Jack Johnson’s ire.

  Ray Donovan bowed to Reggie’s superior knowledge of Jack and his foibles. Reggie had been part of Jack’s crew far longer than he had and he respected the man’s opinions. He would go with the flow and then see what the upshot was going to be. Personally, he thought the Carlton brothers were wankers; they might be named after the Kennedys but they had a long way to go to fulfil that potential. But he didn’t say a word. This was out of his hands until such a time as Jack decided what he wanted done. Then he would do everything in his power to make sure it all went as smoothly as possible.

  Ray looked at young Elton and said jovially, ‘Looks like you will be having your first taste of Belmarsh! Let’s hope it’s the fucking last!’

  They all laughed at the joke, even Elton, who evidently believed he was far too fucking shrewd to ever get caught out. The arrogance of youth, thought Jack Johnson. Well, many a man before him had thought the exact same thing. Young Elton was not the first to think he was invincible; it was part of the territory when you were green and foolish. Not that anyone pointed that out, of course. He was willing and that was to be encouraged. If it all fell out of bed for him they would look after him, that was par for the course.

  Jack Johnson poured out his eighteen-year-old Scotch and he was amused to see that young Elton was apparently not much of a drinker. Well, he would soon learn to enjoy life while you had it. In their game, it could be over before it had even really started. He had seen that happen time and time again. Youth, as Oscar Wilde had once said, was wasted on the young! If only they knew that it was just a hop and a skip to a life tariff. But he kept his thoughts to himself. Why fuck with the lad’s head? But the truth was, he had now irritated Jack with his youthful arrogance and that did not augur well for the future. Jack would happily have him on the payroll, but that did not mean he had to like him. Now, though, he would feel honour-bound to watch him, which was a different thing altogether. Jack had the final word, and the sooner this little fucker realised that, the better off he would be.

  Ray understood the situation immediately; he would lose no time in explaining all that to young Elton Mills, who he liked, but would never really trust one hundred per cent – not until he had proved himself anyway.

  Young Elton realised that he had somehow made a faux pas. He would use that knowledge to make sure that this never happened to him again. He was ready to follow Ray Donovan as far as he wanted him to. Elton also knew that Jack Johnson was not as enamoured of him as he would have liked him to be. But he understood that this was something that he could not control. His best shot was with Ray Donovan and he was pleased about that. He knew he was still very young and that he had an inflated opinion of himself. He had read all the books on psychology and psychopathy – he knew better than anyone did what he really was. He also knew that he had to feign humility and he was willing to do that if the circumstances needed it.

  He remembered being in care as a young lad, and learning early on that no one was going to look out for you – you had to look out for yourself. And that was exactly what he was determined to do. He would rise above the shit he had been born into. He had killed for the right reason and for the wrong reason. Now he would do whatever it took to make his mark on the world and give himself a life that he had only ever dreamed of.

  Reggie watched the changing expressions on the boy’s face and had a feeling that, once he was permanently allied with Ray Donovan, there would be no stopping them. For some reason that knowledge bothered him.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six

  Elton Mills was thrilled to be visiting Belmarsh. As far as he was concerned, it was the prison of prisons. And to visit Teddy Carlton, who was Grade-A even on remand, was the highest honour! He had been subjected to a complete rigmarole to get in. First he had to have passport pictures taken, then apply to the Home Office for visitation rights, and finally he had been put through the indignity of having the local police come to his home to ascertain that he was indeed the person he said he was. Out-fucking-rageous was his feeling on the subject. But he swallowed his anger because he knew this was part of a bigger and better plan. The one good thing that did come out of it was that, for the first time, Elton Mills understood the real fucking world of having a capture. It could mean the best years of your life in a six-by-twelve cell, and to visit it meant aggravation of the highest fucking order. His mum would be hard pushed to sort that out without help. But then she would be hard pushed to pass a GCSE; he loved her, but she wasn’t exactly fucking Mastermind material. This shit would frighten her and he had always made sure she was protected from the truth.

  This was a learning curve for sure, and he would remember just what was at stake – the main thing being his fucking freedom. There was no way any of Jack Johnson’s lot were going away – if it all fell apart, he would be the one to suffer. On the other hand, if he used his fucking nous then he would be a very rich man and some other poor cunt would one day be sitting where Teddy Carlton was. It was a chance he was willing to take.

  He was searched and he was made to wait for long periods. Belmarsh was peopled with the best of the best – not that he felt the POs were in any way worth the proverbial wank. But he was sensible; he needed to look as benign as possible and get through the visit with the minimum of aggravation. There was a very aggressive vibe here that s
hocked him. It was bad enough that people were locked away – why would anyone want to make it harder than it already was? Young Elton was having his first taste of the British judicial system. He was not impressed. He was also more determined than ever to make sure that this would never be his life.

  When he was finally ushered into the presence of Teddy Carlton he was tired and fed up with the whole process. If only he knew how many women went through the same thing on a regular basis just to see the man they had married and keep him in contact with his children. Elton was still too young to know about the real economics of prison and the reality that it forced on everyone involved, including the POs. They were either ex-army and fucking arseholes, or they were looking for an extra bit of income; who could blame them? True, some were of the opinion that the men were entitled to be treated as innocent until proven otherwise. They, though, were few and far between, as Elton was finding out for himself.

  Teddy Carlton could not have appeared to be more different to his brother. He was dark to Bobby’s fair; he was handsome, very handsome. He was also enigmatic. He was a man who could command respect – as long as he didn’t try to express an opinion. After ten minutes though, Elton knew that this man was about as much use as a fucking chocolate teapot. He was a handsome, useless fuck. Now he was well and truly banjaxed. It had apparently never ever occurred to Teddy that ending up in prison might actually be a possibility in his fucking life. Elton was simply disgusted Teddy Carlton had not allowed for the fact that he was going away for longer than his kids had actually lived. Elton had hoped that that might make him more amenable to what was being said to him.