The Rules: A gripping crime thriller that will have you hooked. Kerry Barnes
to the side with a questioning expression. Silently, she wondered why she’d ever bothered to take Kendall away from her father. She should have left her there. There was not a smidgen of her own genes in the girl – not in looks, attitude, not even in interests. If she didn’t look so much like her real father, Rebecca would have sworn she’d been swapped at birth.
‘Kendall, I have no idea what you’re talking about, and, to be quite frank, I really don’t care!’
She turned away from her daughter and searched for the bottle of Bombay Sapphire. Pulling a tumbler from the top shelf, she poured a generous helping and took two large gulps. So uptight and angry, she didn’t bother to add the tonic; instead, she swallowed more of the bitter, clear liquid and smarted as it ripped the back of her throat. After taking a deep breath, she looked up at her daughter, who appeared to be stunned. Well, she would be; she’d never seen her mother do that before – she’d thought her too straight-laced to knock back neat gin.
‘What’s up, Mother? Did you find Alastair with another woman?’ she scoffed.
Rebecca stared at her daughter’s ridiculing eyes and was hit by overwhelming anger that shot up from her feet to the top of her head. Instantly, she threw the glass tumbler at the wall, and then, with both hands, she wiped the centre island clear, sending the vase, the condiments, and Kendall’s rucksack flying to the floor.
Still incensed, she smashed both her fists on the worktop and glared with fire in her eyes at her daughter. ‘Now, you fucking listen to me. You’re a spiteful, evil bitch, and if you weren’t my daughter, I would give you what-for. So, fuck off, away from me.’ She paused, sucking a deep breath as she stared at the horror-stricken look on Kendall’s face; yet she didn’t feel in the least bit sorry or guilty for those harsh words.
‘I wish I’d never applied for custody. I wish I’d never brought you back into my home to give you a better life. In fact, I wish you’d never been born, you ungrateful, nasty girl. Now, before I do something I really do regret, fuck off, go back to your bastard of a father, and leave me alone!’
Kendall stood frozen to the spot. Never in her life had she seen her mother act that way. The overly polite and sickly-sweet manner had been replaced by a raging lunatic, but Kendall wasn’t going to stand there and take that. ‘My dad, the bastard, yeah? Weren’t you the one who couldn’t keep your knickers on? Weren’t you the one who fucked off with Alastair and left Dad and me on our own? I think the truth is, Mother, you’re the bastard – or the puppet.’
She knew the minute the words left her mouth she was going to get it from her mother, so she turned to rush out of the door before something was thrown her way. However, she wasn’t fast enough and was ripped back by her T-shirt and pushed against the wall. With a tight grip around her throat, Kendall’s eyes nearly popped out of her head and her heart felt like it was beating outside her chest. Her mother was a millimetre away from her face and foaming at the mouth. This wasn’t her mother, surely? This was a demon who had taken over her mother’s body. Then, to her horror, her mother pulled her fist back ready to launch a punch. Kendall stared into her mother’s eyes, searching for any sign of the rage leaving. To her relief, her mother dropped her arm and pushed her away.
With legs like jelly and her body trembling, Kendall scurried away. As soon as she was out of reach, she shouted back, ‘Don’t worry, I’m moving out next weekend. My father has a flat for me, so you can go and fuck yourself.’
Heading to her bedroom, only too pleased to have had the last word, Kendall didn’t hear her mother sobbing. As soon as Kendall reached the end of the hallway, the front door opened and in walked Alastair, looking very chuffed. Dressed in a grey suit and with a golden tan, Kendall had to admit he wasn’t bad looking. She could see why her mother was attracted to him. A well-built man, with ripped muscles and piercing eyes, he wouldn’t seem out of place at a prefight weigh-in. However, the way he looked at her still made her want to cringe.
‘Hello, Kendall, how’s Brooke?’ he said, not noticing the sheer spite on her face. He took off his jacket, placed it on a hanger, and rolled up his sleeves. Kendall didn’t reply but went up the stairs, leaving him to see for himself the carnage in the kitchen. Once she reached the landing, she strained her ears to listen, wondering if her mother would revert to the sweet housewife fussing over her husband like it was in the 1950s.
‘What’s the bloody matter now, Rebecca?’ Alastair’s voice was less than compassionate, which sent Rebecca into a further downward spiral.
‘Where have you been?’ she snapped.
‘Where the hell do you think? I’ve been to work, Rebecca. Now, will you pull yourself together and stop badgering me. I’d have thought you had more pressing issues to be concentrating on, like the upcoming election. Oh yes, and not forgetting, you have our daughter up there suffering.’
Kendall crept back down the staircase and waited midway, listening.
‘Brooke won’t even look at me, and damn the bloody election. In fact, Alastair, I might resign. I’ve had enough.’
‘What!’ he bellowed, his tone now deep and masterful. ‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous, woman. We’ve come this far, and now you want to bail out? Well, all I can say is, Rebecca, you aren’t the woman I thought you were. I thought I’d married someone with guts, drive, and determination, not some pathetic crybaby who wants to give up at the first hurdle!’
There was silence and Kendall could only picture her mother’s crumpled expression. She got that very wrong.
‘We, Alastair? We? Who is the we? Because as I recall, it’s me who happens to be the member of parliament. I hold that seat, not you, and this isn’t the first hurdle. I’ve been working my bloody arse off to get to where I am.’
Alastair’s voice instantly mellowed. ‘Sorry, love. Look, it was just a turn of phrase. I am proud of you, and what you’ve achieved. You’re such an amazing MP. It’s tough, I grant you, but it’ll get easier. The voters love you and no doubt they’ll vote you in again and then you can relax. How about after the election we take a short holiday, just me and you, eh?’
Her step-father, the ace manipulator, Kendall thought. She pictured the scene and recognized her father’s skill at managing the situation to his own personal advantage. She could just imagine her mother falling into Alastair’s arms and wiping her eyes. She is so pathetic, she thought. Why, Mother, can’t you see through him?
‘Forget it, Alastair. I am fed up with everything. Our marriage is a mess because either you’re working or I am. We never spend time together, and as for my job, I hate it. I am sick of it. The crime rate in my constituency is climbing daily, and I’m damn sure my voters will view it as me being incompetent. Why should I have to go through all this stress? I’ve enough money saved not to work ever again.’
‘I know, my darling, it’s hard. I’ll tell you what. I’ll take a week off and help you as much as I can. I don’t like to see you like this. What do you say?’
Kendall cringed, wishing her mother would flatly refuse his offer. Stand your ground, Mother, she willed.
‘Well, you’ve no need to do that, Alastair.’
Kendall sensed her mother was taking back control.
‘I want to, Rebecca.’
‘No, I mean, I have help. I have Father and Conrad and they have a plan to—’
Alastair interrupted before his wife had a chance to finish. ‘You what! You never said. How? I mean, what do they propose to do?’
The sudden panic in Alastair’s voice made Kendall stay put. Surely, her mother would have recognized that worried tone?
‘Conrad has a plan to clean up the streets and get to the bottom of this gang problem.’
‘What? How? I thought he didn’t have the budget for that?’ Alastair asked, now quite agitated.
‘He