Toxic. Jacqui Rose
him like the North winds. ‘You need to start talking, Alf. Otherwise I’m going to put him in the ground,’ he growled.
‘Look, Janine’s right, we do need him. This job I was talking about earlier, it was from Lloyd. We could do his job.’
Vaughn shook his head vehemently. ‘Oh no. No fucking way. I will not have anything to do with this fucking snake.’
Janine, munching on a king-size Mars bar, spoke angrily. ‘This ain’t the time to get choosy. Thanks to bleedin’ Alfie, it looks like you might not have a choice.’
Lloyd shrugged his shoulders in amusement. ‘That’s exactly what I tried to tell him, Jan.’
Going for a head-butt, Vaughn lurched forward but was pulled back by Alfie as Janine squawked shrilly at him in the background. ‘Vaughn, you ain’t listening, just swallow yer pride for once, like all of us have to.’
Dropping hold of Lloyd, Vaughn raged. His face taking on several different shades of red. ‘Alfie, you need to sort your missus out. Shut her up!’
Alfie, just as furious with Janine as Vaughn was, roared. He pointed at her, incensed. ‘Ex-missus! And believe me, over the years I’ve tried to get her to put a sock in it, but she ain’t stopped rabbiting from when I met her till now. My head’s done in! But she’s right, if we want to salvage this, we need to do this job.’ He stopped to glare at Lloyd, trying to calm down.
‘Give me a kiss then.’
Bree blushed, stifling a giggle. ‘And if I say no?’
‘Then I’ll love you anyway.’
Chewing her lip, Bree thought for a moment before standing on her tiptoes, quickly landing a large, gentle kiss. ‘There, happy now?’
‘Won’t be happy until you marry me, and don’t say we’re too young, say yes.’
Bree laughed but the sound of a door opening stopped her saying anything.
‘You better go, Bree. She won’t be happy if she finds you here.’
‘I hate this.’
‘I know, but once she gets to know you, she’ll love you … just like I do. It’ll take time, that’s all. Just give her a chance.’
‘I don’t think she’ll ever like me.’
‘She will. I promise. Now go on, get out of here … I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She waved goodbye, running happily towards her push bike, which she’d hidden in the bracken down by the stream. An overwhelming sense of joy came over her, something she’d never experienced before and something she’d certainly never had in her miserable childhood spent being passed from one foster home to another.
Humming quietly to herself, Bree’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Puzzled, she looked around. Damn, it wasn’t there. She must have left it further down the hill. The whole of the woods all looked the same.
She sighed, annoyed with herself for being so stupid, and quickly headed for the winding, muddy path. Although it was dusk, the track and the woods were still quite visible, but as she continued to walk, the darkness began to fall and the shadows of the trees twisted and distorted into monstrous shapes as the branches chattered and whispered in the autumn winds. She shivered.
A noise.
Another.
And Bree let out a scream as she spun round. ‘Oh my god, you gave me a fright … Are you alright?’
There in the darkness was Ma. Her bulbous figure standing motionless. Her stare, narrow and cold.
‘I warned you, Bree. I told you what would happen. You should’ve listened. But little bitches like you never do.’
Slowly, Bree began to back away as the wind picked up, then she started to run, heading into the dark of the woods.
It felt to Bree she was going around in circles. All the trees looked alike and all the paths seemed to be the same. Suddenly her foot caught on an ivy root, sending her forward, plunging her head first into the wet moss and mud. With her hands stinging from trying to break her fall and the rough earth digging into her skin, Bree desperately tried to keep quiet as she crawled along on her hands and knees.
A branch snapped beneath her leg, the sound resonating through the woods, and within seconds Ma Dwyer reappeared, pushing her body forcefully through the dense scrub to get to Bree, her hand reaching and grappling in the dark.
Bree began to scramble up but the mud was too wet and she found herself slipping. She turned to see Ma closing in on her, a maniacal look on her face, eyes wild and frenzied.
She screamed as she felt Ma grab her hair before she was flung backwards and dragged through the bushes. Her head felt like it was on fire, then a crippling pain exploded. Unbearable. Ripping through Bree’s eye as a small branch caught and tore into her lid. She could taste the blood trickling down her cheek and into her mouth as Ma continued to drag her along.
Out from under the trees, the moon high in the night sky, Ma stared at Bree, a nasty smile on her face. Then Ma’s fist came smashing down as her heavy body straddled Bree, banging her head against the ground.
‘You leave my son alone! You ain’t taking him from me. He’s mine!’
Her mouth full of blood, Bree gave a breathless, staggered reply. ‘I love him though! I love him!’
Ma let out a piercing, deafening scream. ‘You can’t love him, he ain’t yours to love! So, you shut your dirty mouth, you just shut your dirty mouth!’
Pushing herself upright, Ma raised her foot, ready to bring it down on Bree’s mouth.
‘Stop, Ma! Don’t!’
Ma turned to look at Johnny. ‘I won’t let her, Johnny. I won’t let her take anyone away from me.’
Johnny walked up to Ma, he spoke gently. ‘Don’t do it, Ma. Don’t hurt her. Bree ain’t done nothin’. She ain’t going to take no one away, is she?’
Ma looked down at Bree who was curled up in a ball. ‘Ain’t she?’
‘No, she ain’t … because nobody ever leaves Ma.’
‘How the fuck can you lose a lorry full of horses? Who does that?’ Eddie Styler raged, filling Johnny’s overheated Range Rover with his seething, uncontrollable anger as they sat overlooking the deserted beach at Sandy Point, Holland Haven. He was visibly shaking and he hadn’t slept one wink because every time he’d tried to close his eyes, Jason Robinson’s face flashed through his mind, though it certainly hadn’t helped that Sandra had insisted on grilling him like she was part of the secret police.
He hadn’t eaten either, partly due to the pain in his mouth which he’d sustained from the beating, but mainly because he felt sick. Sick at the idea that if he didn’t find the money to pay off the people he owed, he was a walking dead man. And not for the first time, he cursed the memory of Reginald Reynolds