they had lived in.
This was why Tammy had made a point of knowing all there was to know about her husband’s businesses. She knew what Nick was worth down to his last penny, and his last euro. He had to be getting it from somewhere and he was most certainly not getting it from her, and if he ever surprised her with a twenty-to-one shot she would be ready and waiting to turn him over good and proper. As her old mum used to say, ‘don’t get mad get even.’ Hit a man in the pocket, it’s the only place, other than in his balls, where you can bring tears to his eyes.
Well, he would lose his money and his nuts if he ever did the dirty on her and he knew it.
Gary Proctor and her husband just worked, and that was it, according to Nick, but her name was not Gilly Hunt and she was not changing it now. If he took her for a cunt she would be ready and waiting for him and even though his bosom pal Gary Proctor was not exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer, she knew there were birds out there who would gladly overlook that fact.
She was watching out for herself, and it annoyed her that most women she knew did not make provisions for the rainy days that were bound to come. He could take everything she had, but she’d still have her pride and he was never going to take that from her.
Gino stood in the small alleyway near his flats and waited for Big Ellie. As she walked towards him he smiled.
‘All right?’
She nodded.
Ellie was big, powerfully big, with arms like meat cleavers. But she had a lovely face that belied the nastiness underneath the make-up. She came from a large family noted mainly for their fighting skills and their belligerence. She scored drugs for people, never seeing herself as a dealer, but touched only alcohol herself. She saw drugs as a mug’s game. She also did little favours for people when she could. For money, of course.
‘You got it?’
He handed her the three hundred pounds cash, which she counted quickly. Then she opened her fake Burberry bag and gave him a small plastic bank bag full of brown and a phone number written on a piece of paper.
‘You never got that number from me, right?’
He nodded.
‘ ’Course not. What? So you think I’m stupid.’
‘My brother would kill me if he knew, so you can imagine what would happen to you, can’t you?’
The threat was unmistakable and he nodded his agreement.
Gino had had a good day. He had got one hundred and fifty for the cards and chequebook so he was still quids in. Now all he had to do was unload the jewellery and he would be laughing.
‘You got it then?’
Jude’s face was so open and trusting it made Gino feel good. She took the bank bag from him and grinned.
‘Fucking hell! This is like Christmas, Gino.’
He felt six feet taller from her admiration.
‘I’ll see you all right, Jude, don’t you worry.’
It was an idle boast but it felt good. He would try and keep her sorted, it was the least he could do for his friend.
‘I got the number you wanted and all.’
He saw the light leave her face. It was wiped clean of any expression; she had paled even more than usual if that were possible.
‘You’re joking?’
He shook his head and passed it to her carefully. It was written on a scrap of newspaper and as she gazed at it she felt her heart lift. Mobile numbers changed, but land lines stayed the same.
‘Oh, you are good, Gino! Fucking good.’
She placed a grubby hand to her mouth, as if stopping herself from saying something else. As Gino watched her he felt omnipotent.
‘Oh, Gino son, you don’t know what you’ve given me,’ she said eventually.
He knew exactly what he had given her but he didn’t say that, of course, he just basked in her praise.
When he produced the bottle of vodka Jude was speechless, but it showed him just how good you could feel helping out someone
This was why Tammy had made a point of knowing all there was to know about her husband’s businesses. She knew what Nick was worth down to his last penny, and his last euro. He had to be getting it from somewhere and he was most certainly not getting it from her, and if he ever surprised her with a twenty-to-one shot she would be ready and waiting to turn him over good and proper. As her old mum used to say, ‘don’t get mad get even.’ Hit a man in the pocket, it’s the only place, other than in his balls, where you can bring tears to his eyes.
Well, he would lose his money and his nuts if he ever did the dirty on her and he knew it.
Gary Proctor and her husband just worked, and that was it, according to Nick, but her name was not Gilly Hunt and she was not changing it now. If he took her for a cunt she would be ready and waiting for him and even though his bosom pal Gary Proctor was not exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer, she knew there were birds out there who would gladly overlook that fact.
She was watching out for herself, and it annoyed her that most women she knew did not make provisions for the rainy days that were bound to come. He could take everything she had, but she’d still have her pride and he was never going to take that from her.
Gino stood in the small alleyway near his flats and waited for Big Ellie. As she walked towards him he smiled.
‘All right?’
She nodded.
Ellie was big, powerfully big, with arms like meat cleavers. But she had a lovely face that belied the nastiness underneath the make-up. She came from a large family noted mainly for their fighting skills and their belligerence. She scored drugs for people, never seeing herself as a dealer, but touched only alcohol herself. She saw drugs as a mug’s game. She also did little favours for people when she could. For money, of course.
‘You got it?’
He handed her the three hundred pounds cash, which she counted quickly. Then she opened her fake Burberry bag and gave him a small plastic bank bag full of brown and a phone number written on a piece of paper.
‘You never got that number from me, right?’
He nodded.
‘ ’Course not. What? So you think I’m stupid.’
‘My brother would kill me if he knew, so you can imagine what would happen to you, can’t you?’
The threat was unmistakable and he nodded his agreement.
Gino had had a good day. He had got one hundred and fifty for the cards and chequebook so he was still quids in. Now all he had to do was unload the jewellery and he would be laughing.
‘You got it then?’
Jude’s face was so open and trusting it made Gino feel good. She took the bank bag from him and grinned.
‘Fucking hell! This is like Christmas, Gino.’
He felt six feet taller from her admiration.
‘I’ll see you all right, Jude, don’t you worry.’
It was an idle boast but it felt good. He would try and keep her sorted, it was the least he could do for his friend.
‘I got the number you wanted and all.’
He saw the light leave her face. It was wiped clean of any expression; she had paled even more than usual if that were possible.
‘You’re joking?’
He shook his head and passed it to her carefully. It was written on a scrap of newspaper and as she gazed at it she felt her heart lift. Mobile numbers changed, but land lines stayed the same.
‘Oh, you are good, Gino! Fucking good.’
She placed a grubby hand to her mouth, as if stopping herself from saying something else. As Gino watched her he felt omnipotent.
‘Oh, Gino son, you don’t know what you’ve given me,’ she said eventually.
He knew exactly what he had given her but he didn’t say that, of course, he just basked in her praise.
When he produced the bottle of vodka Jude was speechless, but it showed him just how good you could feel helping out someone
Similar Books
