Resentments and Revenge Read online

  Tonight, they had been lectured before we entered the restaurant. If they didn’t behave, he wouldn’t bring them out again. Ryan made an aeroplane out of his paper serviette and Megan was on her phone ignoring everyone else.

  “Put that thing away, Megan.”

  “I’m just messaging Raquel, Dad.” Then she held her phone at arm’s length, and with a forced smile, clicked the camera and took a selfie.

  “Do you want one with us all on?” From her expression, you’d think he’d asked if she wanted to swim the river Irwell naked. In fact, that idea was probably less absurd to Megan. “I take it that’s a no then.” I looked at Jack and raised my eyebrows. He glanced at his daughter and back at me, then shook his head. The food arrived and helped avoid any further embarrassment.

  Conversation subsided as we tucked into our various chicken delights. I couldn’t understand how a restaurant could be successful just serving chicken, but what did I know. Jack tried to talk Ryan out of putting the spicy sauce on his dish. Being a wimp himself when it came to chilli peppers, I had to agree it was best to steer away from anything so hot. Ryan didn’t agree and insisted on trying some. We laughed as his eyes watered and he couldn’t stop coughing after putting some on the tip of his tongue. My thoughts turned to Louie and Marcus and how Jack might react if anything happened to either of his children. It had taken his ex-wife long enough to let him have unsupervised access, and I knew he worshipped his kids, even if he didn’t always show it.

  “Who’s for pudding?” Jack asked. I could see Ryan getting restless. He got hold of the salt and pepper pot and clanged them together until his dad gave him one of his looks. “Stop that, Ryan. Are you having anything?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have ice cream.”

  “Okay, anyone else?” Jack asked.

  “No, I’m stuffed,” I replied, “Unless you want to share one?” I turned and asked Megan.

  “I’m not sharing with you,” she replied, looking down.

  “Megan, apologise now. That’s so rude.” Jack frowned.

  “It’s okay, Jack, leave it,” I said.

  “No, It’s not okay. I’m not having a daughter of mine behaving this way. That’s not how I brought her up.”

  “What do you mean, brought me up? You were never there.” Megan spat out her words.

  “Megan, that’s out of order. I bring you out for a nice meal and this is how you behave.” Megan rose from the table and stormed off.

  “Go after her, Jack.” He looked at me, put his napkin down, and got up. I was left with Ryan. He seemed oblivious to the conflict and was still messing with the cutlery. I sighed. Getting close to Jack’s children would take a lot of hard work.

  Jack and Megan returned some minutes later, and they agreed to share an apple pie between them. She apologised, but I couldn’t help thinking I had witnessed her true feelings towards me.

  We dropped the children off and drove over to my place. Originally, the idea had been to spend half our nights together at mine and half at his. As my place was closer to work for both of us, we ended up spending more time at my flat. I was glad about that. I felt more at home there. Jack’s house was okay. It was larger than mine, with a bedroom for each of his children. His décor was typical male — blacks and browns, which I found depressing. I’m a great believer in the fact our environment can be affected by our moods so encouraged Jack to redecorate. He was too tight-fisted to pay anyone and said he was too busy to change it himself. I was convinced his dark moods were partly brought on by where he lived, but I couldn’t convince him.

  I made straight for the kitchen when we got to my flat and I put the kettle on. Snuggling up on the sofa, I asked him about work. His cuts and bruises had almost healed. He told the kids he’d fallen down the stairs. When I saw the look of horror on their faces, I thought he’d have been better telling the truth. Then I realised the reason for their shocked expressions — they probably had memories of him like that when he was drinking. Thank goodness he could reassure them that wasn’t the case.

  “Have you spoken to Snakehips or Rocking Rod?” I asked. It was difficult to have a serious conversation when his associates had names like that.

  “Snakehips is on a final warning. I left him in no doubt that my loyalties lay elsewhere and that I’m looking for another snitch as he isn’t reliable. That’s not the case, of course, but it’s got him worried. He’ll do all he can now to find me information. If I find out he had any knowledge of me getting stitched up, then his life won’t be worth living. He assured me he thought the meet was genuine. I hope he’s telling the truth, but I will be wary about trusting him again. Rocking Rod seems to have disappeared, surprise, surprise. I’ve been asking around about the other numpties. I’m sure one of them is a henchman of Dirk’s. I called in his nightclub last night and ruffled a few feathers. If they think they can frighten me off that easily, they can think again. I wanted to let them know I’m no pushover. They can’t go throwing their weight around that easily. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Please be careful, Jack.”

  “I could get them sent down already for the things I’ve found out, but I’ve got to play the waiting game. If I shop them now, I’m less likely to find Louie. It feels like I’m coaxing the lions out of their cages to get to the solution.”

  “You’re no match for wild animals, Jack. Just remember that.” I gave him one of my serious expressions.

  “No, and I don’t suppose I’ve seen the last of them.”

  Chapter 27

  Jack

  I slammed the phone down. My ex still evoked anger in me the way she used the children as pawns in an effort to exert control over me. She was a master of one-upmanship and she sought ways to put me down at every opportunity. Megan wasn’t coming to mine this evening as we’d arranged. Not only that, she wouldn’t be coming this weekend. It would just be Ryan. The vague excuse Vivien gave was that Megan was busy with friends. I knew as Megan got older, she would spend more time with her mates, and I would have to accept that. She had picked up some of her mother’s traits though and this was getting back at me for making her apologise to Sophie. I felt sure Vivien would be behind it, stirring trouble as she always did.

  The children still lived in the family home that I was kicked out of in my drinking days. Keeping up the maintenance payments as well as my own mortgage was a struggle. I rented this three-bedroomed cottage for four years, then managed to save enough of a deposit to buy it last year. It suited me here. There was room for the kids to stay. It was a bigger place than I needed, and I just scraped by financially.

  I was still reeling from the way Vivien spoke to me as I pushed the kitchen door open and went over to the fridge. Yesterday’s stew heated up on the stove, but I was hungry now. I scanned the shelves of the fridge and pulled out a yoghurt. Spooning it into my mouth, I thought about Megan and how best to approach things next time I saw her. I changed channels on the radio dial after catching the end of the news. Pressing the waste bin pedal down with my foot as the lid pinged open, I discarded the empty yoghurt pot.

  Wiping my lips, I grabbed a wooden spoon from the kitchen drawer and stirred the stew. Tasting the mixture, I thought how much better it tasted than yesterday. I licked my lips. It should be ready in two minutes. I went to get a plate out, then just as I opened the cupboard door, I heard a rip-roaring crashing sound coming from the front of the house. A loud boom shook the foundations and I jumped.

  “What the…?” I said out loud. Wooden spoon still in hand, I rushed to investigate. The smell of petrol hit me before anything else registered. Even as I darted through the hallway, black smoke billowed under the door. My lungs tightened, and I coughed. I went to open the lounge door but the crackling sound coming from beyond it stopped me in my tracks.

  I didn’t need to be much of a private investigator to comprehend what the petrol fumes meant. Instead of opening the lounge and becoming engulfed in a possible inferno, I retreated to the kitchen. I moistened a tea towel
, wrung it out and placed it at the bottom of the door to the lounge, then picked up my mobile phone and bolted out the back door.

  Still coughing, I ran around to the front of the house and phoned for the fire brigade. My hand shook as I read out my address. Flames shot out of the broken front window. The heat was intense. I thought about fanning the flames myself, maybe pouring water in until the emergency services got there but it was already looking like a scene from bonfire night.

  Worried neighbours arrived. I reassured them the property was empty. What a blessing Megan wasn’t here. How lucky it was she hadn’t come over tonight. It showed how fickle fate could be. It didn’t feel fortunate half an hour ago but now knowing she was miles away from this, I breathed a heavy sigh. I wanted to lamp my next-door neighbour, Albert when he asked if I left a chip pan on. I stood watching as the fire licked around the house, helpless to do anything. The orange flames looked garish against the brilliant paintwork. Black smoke made dark columns in the darkening night air. Paint from the once blue door bubbled from the fierce heat. A second window blew out sending hot shards of glass into the garden as the crowd gasped.

  I thought about my possessions and emotion flooded over me. It wasn’t only the stew I’d be missing out on. I had trinkets and souvenirs from a life well spent. I chided myself for not picking up my laptop. Thank goodness everything was backed up at the office. Smoke was being carried to the left of the property as the wind howled over the lane, and soot and dirty ash came raining down. My annoyance at the gawping crowd stood there for their own amusement turned to laughter. Three of my white-haired elderly neighbours who arrived to watch, possibly expecting a firework display, now had hair that was varying shades of grey. Even Dorothy Chadwick’s beautiful white coat was now a dark grey colour. I watched her and giggled inside as she flicked ash off her shoulders. That was the price to be paid for being nosey.

  The sound of sirens filled the air along with the yellow glow from the flames, casting their shadows on the crowd. The smell dominated my every breath and the noise from the humdrum of conversations subsided as it was drowned out by the arrival of two fire engines.

  My cottage looked like something out of a horror movie with twisted plastic and charred wooden posts. The air smelt of burning petrol infused charcoal. My eyes smarted, my throat felt dry and sharp and my lungs breathed in a modicum of pain. This fire had been no accident. It shouldn’t take the fire service long to discover that. There wouldn’t be much left of my place. Now the priority was to protect the properties either side as I watched foam being sprayed on the sides and the roof.

  The fire officer advised me to move my car, and I didn’t need telling twice. Feeling for my keys that were thankfully in my pocket, I climbed into the vehicle. I looked at my sooty hands as I took the wheel and wept. Driving slowly to the end of the road, it dawned on me all I had was the clothes I wore and my vehicle. I phoned Sophie.

  “Can I stay at yours tonight?” My voice shook.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “My cottage has burnt down.”

  “Tell me you are joking,” she said. I could hear the shock registering in her voice.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I got out before it took hold.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “No, I want to get as far away from here as I can.”

  I heard further sirens in the distance and within a few minutes, an ambulance had arrived. I wasn’t going to wait around and tell them they were too late for the party. Putting the car into first gear, I drove off. I’d not given much thought to the perpetrators until that point, but I’d be interested to find out what the fire investigators uncovered.

  Standing at Sophie’s front door, I must have looked like a poor little urchin boy. She greeted me and wiped my cheek down with a kiss. We held our embrace, stood out in the cold night air. She grabbed my hand and led me through into the warmth of her flat. Her hands were tarnished with a sooty film.

  “Let me get you a drink,” she said. It was times like this when a stiff brandy would have been called for, but I had long since lost the right to drink brandy for medicinal purposes. Coffee would suffice.

  The following day she joined me to visit the remnants of my property. We were going shopping after that to get me a new wardrobe of clothes, something I detested. Sophie suggested I stay at hers until I got something sorted. I was happy to take up the offer although I felt guilty putting on her. We arrived in the lane where I lived and neither of us spoke as we got out of the car. The blackened hollow that was my home until yesterday stood in tatters. Glass littered the area outside. The remains looked cold and forlorn, just how I felt.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected to feel from touching the charred remains of my possessions. Blackened books that melted to ash when I held them. Somewhere in that mess was my life, the person I had become since getting sober. Heartfelt sentiments that had been written in my self-help books, words of wisdom from people who cared and encouraged me were now lost forever. All that was left were memories.

  This had been no accident. Whoever did this, meant business. I was seeing the police after our shopping expedition and there was one name on the top of my list of suspects – Dom Duggan.

  Chapter 28

  Sophie

  “It feels like I’m living in a horror movie right now.” Jack sat on the sofa, clutching hold of the cushion. He gazed out of the window. “There was nothing to salvage in there.”

  “It could have been worse, Jack. At least it was only material things.” He scowled at me.

  “There were pictures of the kids, books and paintings they’d done. They can’t be replaced.” I’d never thought of Jack as the sentimental type. I knew it wouldn’t be good for him to wallow in self-pity, but I wasn’t sure how to bring him out of this mood. Maybe time would be the best healer. The rain outside wasn’t doing anything to help the gloom in the room. I was happy to let Jack stay with me as long as he wanted. Even if it was only for a short time, he may as well move in while the repairs were done on his property. If I was honest, it was what I had been hoping for but not like this. If it was me, I couldn’t imagine wanting to move back after what happened, but it was up to him to decide what to do.

  The fire had affected him, and it was hard to cheer him up. He hardly spoke and when he did, his words were filled with sadness. In a few short days, I saw a big change in him. Just to get a smile out of him was a major coup.

  Staying with me wasn’t something we’d talked about. From a practical point of view, there wasn’t enough room for both his kids to come and stop. Given how Megan behaved towards me the last time we met, I didn’t think she’d want to stay here, anyway. I was right. I was the adult though, and I knew I needed to work on my relationship with her for Jack’s sake. Although for now, one moody member of the North family was as much as I could cope with.

  Having Jack staying with me wasn’t an issue, in fact, I loved it. He stayed over enough times in the past. It would be like a trial run if we decided to take the relationship to the next level, and we moved in together permanently. That was what I wanted more than anything. I wasn’t so sure what Jack thought. He played his cards close to his chest.

  He was taking the kids to the cinema today, so I was looking forward to some me time. It would be a welcome break to be on my own. His low mood since the fire grated on me now. My patience was running out. I wished he would snap out of the doldrums.

  I drove down to Whitefield to get my nails done. I’d been going there for years so knew the owner, Mandy well. This was my fortnightly treat, and I looked forward to a catch up with the girls who worked there. I walked in and glanced around at the glossy white workstations. Every one of them was occupied. I groaned. I didn’t like waiting.

  Mandy looked up from her client and waved. Sharon, recognisable by her long bright red curls came over to take my coat. The smell of acetone hit my nostrils.

  �
��Here, Sophie. Let me take that.” She held out her hands as I manoeuvred out of my brown suede jacket. I nestled down onto the sofa in the reception area.

  “Can I get you a drink or anything?” Sharon asked.

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.” I picked up one of the magazines and flicked through.

  “I’ll be doing your nails today. I should only be a couple of minutes.” I nodded, glancing up at the clock. As I expected those two minutes turned into ten. Even the big hand moved too slowly. I tapped my foot on the light-grey parquet-style flooring. Waiting seemed such an unnecessary pastime. If I wasn’t careful, it could turn to boredom. If that happened, I was in trouble. Boredom caused my mind to wander and negative thoughts came in.

  “Ready for you now, Sophie.” I jumped at the interruption. “Sorry.” Sharon smiled. She led me to the vacant position. “You okay?” she asked. I hadn’t been in since the fire at Jack’s place. I was in no mood for going into the details about what happened, so I tried to play it down.

  “Jack’s moved into my place temporarily. There was a fire at his flat, so he’s staying with me while they repair it.”

  “Oh, I heard about that.” The dark-haired woman at the next table stared at me. My eyes were transfixed on her false lashes. She glared. There was no warmth in her face. I frowned. Did I know her? Her features looked familiar. She didn’t acknowledge me but kept glancing my way. I didn’t expand on the fire story, so Sharon told me about the holiday she had booked to go to Tenerife with her husband. My mind wandered.

  “It’ll be the first time we’ve been away without the kids,” she said as she pushed my cuticles back with the metal implement. The dark-haired woman continued to stare. I racked my brain to recall if I knew her from anywhere. Nothing registered.

  “We went to Tenerife last year,” she butted in. Her voice wasn’t recognisable from anywhere. “What part are you going to?”