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  Chapter Thirty

  Reggie Dornan was lying in his bed awake and he was a worried man. He should not have drunk so much tonight – then he would not have made a pass at Lenny Scott. But he sensed that Lenny – whatever he might be telling himself – was as up for it as he was. They had had a rapport from the minute they had clapped eyes on one another.

  Reggie felt sick with apprehension; he knew that many men denied their real instincts. Christ Himself knew, he had tried to push his feelings aside for years. It had taken a stint inside for him to admit what he really was and, in that way, it was the best thing that could ever have happened to him. But that didn’t mean Lenny was likely to embrace the truth of his real nature.

  He lay there with his arms behind his head; he knew that sleep wouldn’t be coming to him any time soon. But he couldn’t stop pictures forming in his mind – pictures of Lenny naked, of kissing him, feeling the sheer strength of him, his hardness.

  Over the other side of the estate, Lenny Scott was lying with his wife asleep in his arms, thinking the exact same things, and hating himself because of it. The baby cried and Lenny got up to see to his son, glad of the distraction. As he quietened him down and felt the love he had for his child, he wondered again at what kind of man he really was. He was an unnatural bastard, and that frightened him. What other weaknesses had he lurking inside him? He sat in his son’s bedroom holding him tight, and he cried bitter tears.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lenny Scott was waiting outside Reggie’s house and he watched warily as Reggie climbed into the passenger seat of his BMW. He noticed that the house was already looking better – tidier at least. Janey Dornan waved in a friendly manner but Lenny didn’t bother to acknowledge her. She wasn’t in the least put out and that made him stifle a smile. She really was a piece of work. He drove away quickly. Reggie didn’t even say a good morning, just sat beside him quietly, waiting to see his reaction to the events of the night before. Lenny felt that was a good move.

  He glanced at the man beside him quickly. He was good-looking, with thick, dark hair and piercing eyes. They had a look of each other in some ways. Both were big, muscular and dark. He could smell Reggie’s aftershave and underneath that was the smell of his fresh sweat. It was heady stuff for him suddenly. It was as if now Lenny was acknowledging this other nature he had, his eyes had opened to everything about Reggie Dornan he felt attracted to.

  Lenny took a deep breath before saying, ‘So, come on then. Explain what all that was about last night.’

  Reggie laughed quietly. Then, lighting up two cigarettes, he passed one to Lenny.

  It was the intimacy of the act that threw Lenny. A part of him knew he should be putting the cigarette out on Reggie’s face, not accepting it without a second’s thought. But he pulled on it deeply as he waited for Reggie to explain to him. He was in a quandary because this was so far away from his usual behaviour – he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to act, to be.

  ‘Look, Lenny, you know as well as I do what was happening last night. And I think somewhere inside you have known since we first met what was going to happen at some point.’

  Lenny didn’t answer; he manoeuvred the car on to the A13 and drove out towards Essex.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  Reggie sounded nervous. And so he should; he had no idea what Lenny might think, say or even do in the cold light of day.

  ‘Southend. I have to see a bloke about a debt that Jack needs pulled in. As I told you, Jason Prior has opened the floodgates. Debts that were once liable to be written off are now seen as viable again. That is good news for Jack, ergo, that is good news for us.’

  Reggie nodded. He liked the ‘us’ in that sentence, and he relaxed a little. He looked out of the car window, but he could feel the pull of the man beside him and hated that he was this way. It was so difficult in the world they inhabited. It was seen as a weakness, as an aberration of sorts. He should never have tried it on with Lenny, even though he believed it was something they both wanted. He had guessed that Lenny Scott had never acted on his impulses. People like Lenny lived a life of normality as a matter of form. Now Reggie had stirred him up, and this could go either way. Lenny was quite capable of killing him over this, so great would his fear be about anyone finding out the truth.

  Reggie had been celled-up with a lag from North London; the old boy was doing a lump and a half. They had some good times, and he had made Reggie see that it wasn’t unnatural. How could it be, if they were both quite happy to indulge? But he had also warned him that in their world it was a definite no-no. Men had been scalped for less, and he made sure that Reggie understood that fact. Reggie had also learned that some men were only queer in prison and, once they stepped back out through the gates, they were as straight as an arrow once again. With him it had just been sex though – he had liked the fellow, but he had not felt like he did now about Lenny Scott, who had filled his mind day and night since they had first crossed paths. And Reggie was sure that Lenny reciprocated those feelings, whatever he might try to tell himself.

  ‘I’ve been there you know, Lenny. Denying what I really was. What I felt. I have been fighting these feelings since I was fourteen. God knows, in our world, our environment doesn’t exactly make it easy for us—’

  Lenny interrupted him angrily. ‘What are you fucking on about? We were pissed. That is all it can be. I have a wife I love, and a little boy I fucking adore. This cannot ever be a part of my life. Think about it – I have a family and responsibilities, for fuck’s sake! If my Sharon ever even thought . . . That’s without Jack Johnson and the others . . .’

  Reggie was quiet for a few seconds before he said gently, ‘Who are you trying to convince, Lenny? Me or you?’

  Lenny sighed heavily. This was so far out of his remit it was almost impossible to believe. That he was even considering it . . . But there were no two ways about it – considering it, he was.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sharon was happy. As she busied herself with sorting out the small betting office, she wondered at just how fantastic her life was. Her mum loved having the baby while Sharon worked and she actually appreciated her time away from her little boy. She enjoyed being back in the real world, and being a productive member of the family. It felt good to earn money, and it was all for their benefit, so they could buy a decent place. They had discussed it over and over: they would wait and buy a house that they could do up and stay in as a family until the kids – and they wanted more kids – grew up.

  It was a dream come true and sometimes she had to pinch herself at just how lucky they were, her and her Lenny. Then, last night, that amazing sex had proved to her once again that they were meant to be. God, but she did love her Lenny, no matter what her mum tried to insinuate. Ever since that misunderstanding with Keith Smith, not to mention Billy Mason, her mum had had a hard-on for Lenny. In fact, at times Sharon almost felt that her mum was a bit jealous of her, even though she would never admit it.

  She had her dad working with her in the betting shop now – that had been Lenny’s idea. He worried about her there alone and she understood that. They did brisk business, and it was all cash, so she knew the dangers that presented themselves in the world they inhabited. But, as her dad said, ‘Who would be cunt enough to rob Lenny Scott? They would have to be on a death wish’, which made her laugh, but also pleased her. She felt safe being Sharon Scott. People treated her well, and even the hard women on the estate were pleasant to her. It felt good to be so looked after, so taken care of in every aspect of her life. Unlike her mother, she didn’t think that luck had to be paid for at some point. She didn’t feel that every time something good happened to her she should look over her shoulder.

  Her mum really pissed her off at times. Her dad said because her mum was a pessimist she always felt that something bad might happen, but Sharon felt that it went deeper than that. She could almost sense the resentment in her mother every time they purchased
something for the house or they talked about their plans for the future. They had plans – big plans – and they would work together as hard as they needed to see them come to fruition. Unlike her mum, Sharon was a working partner in her marriage – and she had a knack for the betting shop. She had been taught well by old Isaac, and he was pleased to see the young couple have the opportunity to better themselves. Unlike her mother, of course, who seemed to think this was all a precursor to a mighty fall. It hurt Sharon to think that her mum wasn’t thrilled to see her only child doing so well, and at such a young age too.

  She sighed heavily. She knew she had to forget about it. That was her mum, a prophet of doom. Her dad said she was always the glass-half-empty sort, his old woman, never half-full. It was her nature, and there was no changing her. Fuck knows, he had tried over the years. Catholic guilt, that was what was behind it apparently. But it still hurt and, though she loved her mum, Sharon had to be honest and say she was starting to get on her nerves. She wondered why, when everything was going so well, there was always something to bring you back down to earth. Without realising it, Sharon was echoing her mother’s thoughts entirely.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Southend was empty. It was the end of the season and in the dim daylight it looked scruffy and unkempt. The seafront only ever really looked good when the night fell, and all the flashing lights and glamorous colours attracted the eye.

  ‘We’re early, Reggie. Let’s go to the cockle sheds and get something to eat in the Crooked Billet. They do a handsome fish and chips in there. Sharon and me used to come here a lot when we was courting.’

  Reggie stifled a smile; it was such an old-fashioned word, ‘courting’, but then he knew that Lenny had an old-fashioned streak. As they drove back towards Leigh-on-Sea, the North Sea looked grey and ominous in the darkness of the day. It was going to storm, and a few drops of rain started to hit the windscreen. When they got to Marine Parade, the heavens opened and a flash of lightning lit up the sky. The thunder was rumbling and they knew that soon the storm would be overhead.

  ‘You and Sharon have been together a long time, haven’t you? I mean, considering your ages.’

  Lenny nodded, not at all sure he was happy discussing his wife with this man who was his . . . His what? Potential friend? Boyfriend? Lover?

  Reggie understood his predicament and changed the subject. ‘Look, Lenny, I apologise if I was out of order last night. If I got the wrong signals.’

  He was offering Lenny an out and they both knew it.

  Just then a tremendous clap of thunder crashed overhead and they both laughed as it had made them jump.

  ‘Right fucking pair of hard men we are, leaping out of our skins over a thunderbolt!’

  Reggie laughed with him; the atmosphere between them was changing, getting lighter. Lenny pulled up in a narrow back street and they got out of the car. They went up a small pathway and Lenny opened the front door of the ground-floor flat with a key. It took him a while to do it, the rain was so heavy. They both stepped inside quickly. The place was a wreck, and Reggie looked around him in wonder. He felt a stab of fear suddenly. Was Lenny going to take him out here over what had happened, in case Reggie told anyone?

  Lenny could almost see the thoughts as they flashed through Reggie’s mind. Peeling off his wet jacket, he threw it over the arm of a dilapidated armchair, and then slowly he started to take his clothes off.

  Reggie, realising what was going on, went to him and held his huge hands either side of Lenny’s head. Then he pulled him towards him and kissed him deeply.

  Lenny kissed him back, amazed at the strength of feeling washing over him. It was done now; he had burned his boats. And, by Christ, it felt fucking good.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jamie Ryan was in his fifties, but he looked good on it. He was much taken with expensive suits and handmade shoes. From Irish stock, he had the dark good looks of his forefathers. He had also inherited their strength and sense of purpose.

  He had started life as a bank robber, and had the good sense to invest his money in clubs, pubs and other drinking establishments. He could pass for legitimate and that was exactly what he wanted to do. He very rarely made a mistake and, when he did, it rankled with him. Now he had made a major one and the knowledge had been eating at him like a cancer.

  He was sitting in the back of one of his clubs on Southend seafront and he was setting about rectifying said mistake. He liked the look of these two, and he had heard good things about Lenny Scott. If Jack Johnson trusted him, then that was good enough for him. Jamie and Jack had known each other for years; they had run about the streets of East London together, the arses hanging out of their trousers and bombs dropping overhead. Oh, they went way back.

  He smiled at the two huge young men, envying them their youth, and the future that lay ahead. He didn’t like getting older, and he was well aware he was a laughing stock, as his girlfriends seemed to be getting younger.

  ‘So, I hear great things about you, Lenny. The Prior business was a coup, all right.’

  He liked that the lad acknowledged his words with a small nod, without feeling the urge to discuss it, especially his part in it. That told Jamie this kid could keep his trap shut.

  ‘Can I get you boys anything?’

  Lenny shook his head. ‘No, really we are fine. We had lunch in Leigh-on-Sea.’

  He looked around the office, impressed despite himself. This was what he wanted – this kind of legitimate set-up that would bring him money and respect.

  ‘OK, then. The business I want to discuss goes no further than us and that is imperative.’

  Lenny and Reggie nodded in unison and Jamie had the thought they could be brothers.

  ‘I did a cuntish thing a few years ago. A very cuntish thing. I lent eighty grand to a man I thought was a mate. He took the money, and he ran with it. Invested it wisely, and then stiffed me for my stake. He was last seen on his way to fucking Colombia, and I am sure we are all aware of what the attraction was there! Anyway, I hear through the grapevine that he is back, only he is in Marbella. Built a stonking great big drum and base for himself and living the proverbial life of fucking Riley. New wife – a Colombian tart, apparently – the usual bollocks. I want him taken out and I want my poke back. Now, no one is willing to do this little errand for me because of the man’s reputation with the South Americans. Like they would give a flying fuck – they deal with whoever is available! There is no sentiment in the drug trade, believe me. Now, are you interested?’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘You keep the eighty grand, and I put twenty on top. You have my word.’

  Lenny digested this information for a few seconds before saying, ‘Who is it?’

  Jamie Ryan looked him straight in the eye. ‘Christopher Steel.’

  Reggie was heard to whisper ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

  Lenny Scott leaned forward in his seat and said seriously, ‘You arrange flights, accommodation, et cetera. I might want to bring a couple more lads out there, and I will need time to plan it properly. I want to be located outside of Marbella, in the countryside. I think the only way to get this done is to lure him out to us.’

  Jamie Ryan couldn’t believe his luck. ‘You’re up for it, then?’

  Lenny grinned. ‘Oh, yeah. I’ll be in touch within seven days, and I’ll talk you through what I have decided to do and how much it will cost you to bankroll it all.’

  He stood up, and held out his hand; Jamie Ryan was impressed at the firmness of the lad’s handshake. If he pulled this off, his future would be secured for ever. But he knew that Lenny Scott was as aware of this as he was, so the thought was left unsaid. He admired the lad’s bravery, because Christopher Steel was not a man to cross lightly. He was a vicious, violent cunt, and that was when he was in a good mood. They had been friends for years, and to think that he had had him over was one of the biggest irritations of Jamie’s life. Steel would not be expecting this little get-together,
and he hoped that it worked out in Lenny Scott’s favour. Which would then mean, of course, that he had got his revenge. It was a win-win for Jamie; all he had to do was pay out if, and only if, the trip paid off. He was thrilled at his own acumen. Minimal outlay, maximum benefits – the kind of deal he had always liked. He had written off the eighty grand, so he would wipe his mouth and let that lad collect it. If he managed to take that cunt Steel out, it was worth every fucking halfpenny.

  In the car, Lenny was smiling grimly. ‘We can do this job between us, Reg, and we can make some serious bunce. And, on the plus side, we get a few days in sunny Spain in an isolated farmhouse.’

  Reggie couldn’t believe the way things had turned out for him. On the one hand he was thrilled to bits, but there was another side to all this that was only just beginning. They had to be careful, so very careful. He shrugged mentally. That was a worry for another day. Placing his hand on Lenny’s knee, he squeezed it gently and, when Lenny placed his hand over his, that seemed to settle it for both of them.

  Reggie was happier than he had ever been in his life. He looked at Lenny Scott and felt the pure maleness of him, and he knew that he would take any chance to be with this man.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  ‘You and Reggie are like the fucking Thompson Twins, all you need is Snowy and Tintin.’

  Lenny grinned easily; he was used to people remarking on their friendship. It was funny really, but because they were both so masculine no one even suspected anything untoward was going on.