A Father’s Revenge. Kitty Neale

A Father’s Revenge - Kitty  Neale


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      ‘Drive!’ Vince ordered.

      Kevin thought quickly. ‘What’s going on, Vince? We go back a long way so why have you snatched me?’

      Vince’s head snapped round, his hard, gimlet eyes studying Kevin for a moment before he said, ‘Nah, I don’t know you.’

      ‘Yes, you do, Vince, though I must admit you didn’t see me very often. Before I went inside I used to knock around with a couple of blokes and we fenced the stuff we nicked through you. My name is Kevin – Kevin Dolby.’

      There was silence for a moment as Vince pursed his lips, but then he nodded. ‘Dolby, yeah, that name rings a distant bell. Are you the bloke who beat the shit out of a jeweller?’

      ‘Yes, that’s me. I’ve just got out after doing thirteen years.’

      ‘So what are you doing sniffing around my bird?’

      ‘If you mean that stripper who was leaving the club, sorry, mate, I’ve only just got out of the nick and I didn’t know she was your property.’

      The blow to Kevin’s stomach was swift and unexpected, leaving him doubled over in agony as Vince growled, ‘Don’t take me for a mug. You’re the bloke who was hanging around last week. You saw Adrianna get into my car and you clocked me when you had nerve to stick your head inside me motor.’

      ‘Vince … mate …’

      Kevin’s apology was cut off. ‘I ain’t your mate!’ Vince snarled. ‘If I was you’d know that I’m a reasonable man who’s prepared to overlook a genuine mistake. Yours wasn’t. You knew she was my property all right, and you should have kept away, but instead you turned up again tonight.’

      ‘I wasn’t there to chat her up. We just happened to be leaving the club at the same time, and I just said hello, that’s all.’

      ‘Nice try,’ Vince said, ‘but I was in the club tonight, watching you from my manager’s office and my girls know better than to cross me. I was shown the note you paid good money to send to Adrianna.’

      ‘But …’

      ‘Shut up! Stan, Bert, we’re going to pull up here and then he’s all yours.’

      When the car drew into the kerb, Kevin was yanked out. He tried to fight back, but up against two giant thugs he didn’t stand a chance as they laid into him with fists, and when he hit the floor, their boots.

      Pain shot through him with each kick, agonising pain, but finally when Vince called them they backed off, like dogs obeying their master. With one final kick each they returned to the car, leaving Kevin bruised, bloodied, and barely conscious as it sped away.

      Kevin didn’t know how long he lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, and he had only vague memories of someone coming to his aid. The man helped him up and was good enough to drive him home when he refused to go to hospital.

      The time had passed in a blur, though Kevin had flashes of memory: Rupert crying, being tended to by skilled hands, but only finding out days later that it had been Rupert’s private doctor.

      With broken ribs, his body in agony, and his face a swollen mass of cuts and bruises, it was Rupert who looked after him – Rupert who over the next few weeks nursed Kevin back to health.

      It was Saturday morning, a special one in May, and as probate had been granted earlier than expected Pearl, Derek, John and Nora were moving to Battersea the next day.

      To Pearl’s relief, Kevin hadn’t been in touch and John had become a little more communicative.

      ‘Happy birthday, darling,’ she said as he walked into the kitchen.

      ‘Happy birthday, Johnny,’ Nora said as she ran forward to give him a hug. ‘You all right?’

      ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

      Pearl knew that Nora was sensitive to John’s feelings, and it was obvious his words had failed to reassure her as she looked at him sadly.

      Hoping to lift the mood, Pearl was about to give John his present when the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, thinking that it might be the postman.

      ‘Hello, Pearl.’

      ‘Bernie! I wasn’t expecting you.’

      ‘It’s all right. I know John won’t come to Southsea with me, but as this is a present I couldn’t put in the post, I left early to deliver it myself. It’ll be nice to see the lad, but I can’t stay long. I’ve got to get back to Dolly. She hasn’t heard from Kevin again and despite her medication she’s getting herself in a right old state.’

      ‘Come in, but please, don’t mention Kevin in John’s hearing.’

      ‘Now look here, Pearl, this can’t go on,’ Bernie protested. ‘I know you felt you had to tell John the whole truth about Kevin, but we haven’t seen the boy in ages and it isn’t fair that we’re suffering for it too.’

      ‘I know and I’m sorry, but John won’t visit you while there’s a chance he’ll bump into Kevin.’

      ‘Let me talk to him. I might be able to persuade him to change his mind.’

      ‘No, Bernie, it isn’t the right time. John’s upset enough about us moving to Battersea tomorrow and I don’t want anything else to ruin his birthday.’

      After a pause, he agreed, ‘Yeah, all right.’

      Relieved, Pearl ushered Bernie into the kitchen. Derek looked surprised to see him too, while John’s face was a picture as he looked at his grandfather, part pleasure, part panic.

      ‘Happy birthday, lad,’ Bernie said, placing the box on the table. ‘Now don’t hang about – open it.’

      As he lifted the lid, John gasped with wonder. He reached inside to lift the tiny ginger kitten into his arms. ‘Oh, Granddad …’

      ‘There’s a farm up the road and I knew that one of the cats was having kittens. The farmer was happy for me to have one, and thankfully it worked out the right time to take it away from the mother. Sorry, Pearl, I hope you don’t mind.’

      Even if she had minded, Pearl wouldn’t have had the heart to burst John’s bubble. Her son looked happier than he had in weeks. ‘I’m fine with it, Bernie, but it’s just as well we’re moving out tomorrow. My mother isn’t keen on cats.’

      ‘Granddad, is it a boy or a girl?’ John asked.

      ‘It’s a ginger tom, lad, a boy.’

      ‘Has he got a name?’

      ‘Not yet. It’s up to you to choose one.’

      John lifted the kitten onto the palm of his hand, gazing at it, and Nora came to his side, obviously enchanted too. ‘Look, Johnny, he got stripes.’

      ‘Yes, like a tiger. How’s that for a name?’

      Nora shook her head vigorously. ‘No. Don’t like tigers.’

      ‘There’s no hurry, John, think about it for a while,’ Pearl suggested.

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