her.
‘I don’t think she’ll be very pleased to see me,’ he muttered.
‘Of course she won’t. You walked out on her. But you’ll do what it takes to get back in her good books, Jake.’
‘What do you mean, “what it takes”?’
‘Do I have to spell it out? Tell her you want to find this manuscript to spite me, if that’s what works.’ She smiled serenely. ‘I’ll leave it up to you.’
‘It won’t be easy.’
‘Use your charm, Jake. There’s not much point in having it otherwise, is there?’
As he remembered her words, fresh determination surged through Jake. He’d show Caroline he could be much more than a toyboy. He would make her take him seriously, whatever it took.
The shower had helped a little but Jane still felt raw and tender. She made them both coffee, swallowing a couple of painkillers while she waited for the kettle to boil. She wasn’t sure if what she was planning was the right thing, but she couldn’t see any alternative and she wanted to be as close to firing on all cylinders as she could manage. She took the mugs through and perched on the edge of her bed. ‘There’s someone I’ve got to go and see,’ she said. ‘I want you to wait here.’
‘Who you going to see?’ Tenille demanded. Having unburdened herself, her usual demeanour seemed to be reasserting itself.
‘Someone I think will be able to help.’ Jane hoped her tone would head off further questions.
Tenille stared into her coffee. ‘My dad,’ she said expressionlessly.
Jane tried to hide her surprise. Not long after Tenille had started hanging round with her, Jane had fallen into conversation at the bus stop with one of her neighbours, a young mother from a couple of doors down. ‘It’s none of my business,’ the woman had said, ‘but I noticed that Tenille hanging round your place. You want to watch yourself there.’
‘Why is that?’ Jane had bristled. ‘She seems like a bright kid.’
‘She’s bright, all right. But it’s her old man you want to worry about.’
Jane frowned. ‘I think you’re mixing her up with someone else. She hasn’t got a dad. She says she doesn’t know who her father is. Her mother always refused to tell her, and Sharon says she’s got no idea.’
The woman gave a contemptuous little snort. ‘If Tenille doesn’t know, she’s the only one. Everybody else round here knows the Hammer is her dad.’
Jane felt her eyes widen in shock. ‘John Hampton?’
‘That’s right. He’s always kept an eye out, but from a distance, like. Sharon doesn’t want her to know, see? I mean, you can see why, can’t you?’
Jane could certainly see why. She’d learned very early on that John ‘Hammer’ Hampton was the criminal equivalent of the mayor of Marshpool Farm. He was a serious gangsta, not some teenage wannabe. Drugs, sex and violence were his stock in trade and there was no doubting his grip on the illegal activities on the estate. Jane had heard stories of punishment beatings meted out to those who thought they could freelance on the wrong side of the law without giving the Hammer his due.
And now, here was Tenille openly acknowledging something Jane had thought was deeply buried. ‘You know about your dad?’ Jane said, stalling for time to get her head round this.
‘That he’s the Hammer?’ Jane nodded. Tenille shrugged. ‘I’ve sort of known for years. Somebody at school told me. I didn’t believe them at first. I didn’t want to, I suppose. But one day when Sharon was out, I went through her things. And stuffed right down the back of one of her drawers, I found a photo of my mum with the Hammer. He had his arm round her. They was smiling into each other’s faces, like they was in love or something. And then I knew for sure.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He’s never said a word to me, like. He’s always walked straight past me without a look. I figured he don’t want to know.’
‘Or else he wants to protect you,’ Jane said, reaching for a gloss that might give
‘I don’t think she’ll be very pleased to see me,’ he muttered.
‘Of course she won’t. You walked out on her. But you’ll do what it takes to get back in her good books, Jake.’
‘What do you mean, “what it takes”?’
‘Do I have to spell it out? Tell her you want to find this manuscript to spite me, if that’s what works.’ She smiled serenely. ‘I’ll leave it up to you.’
‘It won’t be easy.’
‘Use your charm, Jake. There’s not much point in having it otherwise, is there?’
As he remembered her words, fresh determination surged through Jake. He’d show Caroline he could be much more than a toyboy. He would make her take him seriously, whatever it took.
The shower had helped a little but Jane still felt raw and tender. She made them both coffee, swallowing a couple of painkillers while she waited for the kettle to boil. She wasn’t sure if what she was planning was the right thing, but she couldn’t see any alternative and she wanted to be as close to firing on all cylinders as she could manage. She took the mugs through and perched on the edge of her bed. ‘There’s someone I’ve got to go and see,’ she said. ‘I want you to wait here.’
‘Who you going to see?’ Tenille demanded. Having unburdened herself, her usual demeanour seemed to be reasserting itself.
‘Someone I think will be able to help.’ Jane hoped her tone would head off further questions.
Tenille stared into her coffee. ‘My dad,’ she said expressionlessly.
Jane tried to hide her surprise. Not long after Tenille had started hanging round with her, Jane had fallen into conversation at the bus stop with one of her neighbours, a young mother from a couple of doors down. ‘It’s none of my business,’ the woman had said, ‘but I noticed that Tenille hanging round your place. You want to watch yourself there.’
‘Why is that?’ Jane had bristled. ‘She seems like a bright kid.’
‘She’s bright, all right. But it’s her old man you want to worry about.’
Jane frowned. ‘I think you’re mixing her up with someone else. She hasn’t got a dad. She says she doesn’t know who her father is. Her mother always refused to tell her, and Sharon says she’s got no idea.’
The woman gave a contemptuous little snort. ‘If Tenille doesn’t know, she’s the only one. Everybody else round here knows the Hammer is her dad.’
Jane felt her eyes widen in shock. ‘John Hampton?’
‘That’s right. He’s always kept an eye out, but from a distance, like. Sharon doesn’t want her to know, see? I mean, you can see why, can’t you?’
Jane could certainly see why. She’d learned very early on that John ‘Hammer’ Hampton was the criminal equivalent of the mayor of Marshpool Farm. He was a serious gangsta, not some teenage wannabe. Drugs, sex and violence were his stock in trade and there was no doubting his grip on the illegal activities on the estate. Jane had heard stories of punishment beatings meted out to those who thought they could freelance on the wrong side of the law without giving the Hammer his due.
And now, here was Tenille openly acknowledging something Jane had thought was deeply buried. ‘You know about your dad?’ Jane said, stalling for time to get her head round this.
‘That he’s the Hammer?’ Jane nodded. Tenille shrugged. ‘I’ve sort of known for years. Somebody at school told me. I didn’t believe them at first. I didn’t want to, I suppose. But one day when Sharon was out, I went through her things. And stuffed right down the back of one of her drawers, I found a photo of my mum with the Hammer. He had his arm round her. They was smiling into each other’s faces, like they was in love or something. And then I knew for sure.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He’s never said a word to me, like. He’s always walked straight past me without a look. I figured he don’t want to know.’
‘Or else he wants to protect you,’ Jane said, reaching for a gloss that might give
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