He hadn’t known anything about her plan to walk out on him until it actually happened, though looking back all the signs had been there. She’d disappear for hours on end and when he questioned her about where she’d been she was evasive. For some reason he couldn’t explain now, he’d just let her get on with it, never imagining she’d be brave enough to do anything stupid.
And the only reason Tia was still breathing, still alive today, was because she left him not for another man, but to fight some silly battle she could never win, and he could just about forgive her for that. Just about. Because if she had left him for another man, that would be an entirely different matter. She knew there’d be no hiding place for her then because however long it took, he’d find her, fuck her, and finish her. After all, she was his wife and in his eyes that meant doing what he wanted with her.
Having wound himself up, Harry – leaving Tammy on the floor – angrily stalked out of the bedroom as he pulled his mobile out of his pocket. He dialled a number but it went straight to voicemail. Then almost shaking with rage, he pressed another number, waiting for it to dial out, but after a few rings it went to voicemail as well. He growled down the phone.
‘You better have a good fucking reason why you ain’t calling me back cos I need to have a word with my wife and she ain’t answering and now you’re not either and I don’t want to talk to some cunt’s answer machine, so you need to call me back now … Oh, and remember, Vaughn, we have a deal. I gave you my word I’d keep Wan and his men off your back. But if you think that you can fuck me off, fuck me over, then I’d think again, mate, unless of course you want that lot to come and get you. So if I were you I’d answer your phone so I can speak to my FUCKING WIFE!’
11
Lamb’s Conduit Street was as busy as ever with café goers and ambling tourists as Tia made her way towards Russell Square.
Turning into a small street, she headed towards a house with a large, freshly painted blue front door, which stood next to a florist’s.
Under the grey sky of London, feeling a cold chill, Tia shivered as she stood on the doorstep and rang the bell. She glanced around, more out of habit than thinking she’d been followed, though she knew she couldn’t be too careful.
Within moments the door was opened by a heavily made-up woman who was wearing a ruched red dress and a warm smile. She greeted Tia cheerily.
‘Hello, darlin’, you look like you’re freezing your tits off. Come in, sweetheart.’ But then she stopped and stared at Tia. Her lips pursed. ‘What’s that on your face? Harry been knocking you about again?’
Tia touched her cheek, and shrugged. ‘It is what it is, Lydia. It ain’t so bad.’ She followed Lydia into the house which, like the front door, had been freshly painted but in muted colours of grey and pink. Wanting to get the topic of conversation away from herself, Tia asked, ‘You been all right?’
‘Not too bad, shouldn’t grumble though we fucking do, don’t we?’ Lydia said as she cackled warmly.
Going through to a room at the back – which always reminded Tia of the bedroom she’d stayed in the first night she’d been put into a foster home – she sat down wearily as Lydia, house proud as always, fluffed the pink cushions on the bed.
‘I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it today,’ Tia said as she took off her jacket in the excessively hot room.
Lydia raised her eyebrows and came to sit opposite Tia on one of the cream flowered couches. ‘I’m sorry to hear about what happened at court. But it don’t surprise me. He was never going to let you go. We both know that.’
Trying to stop the tears pricking at her eyes, Tia absentmindedly picked up the teddy bear that was next to her on the sofa. ‘I know it was stupid but I had to try. I just thought if I could get the kids, then I could get a place for us all and Milly would have some kind of home again. You should see the place she’s in, Lydia. It’s a dump and I feel so guilty cos I know she needs me. She’s sixteen and eight months pregnant and she ain’t got a pot to piss in either.’
Looking sympathetic, Lydia reached out and held Tia’s hands. ‘But she’s got you ain’t she, lovie? And that’s the main thing. She’s not the first kid who’s got no money and is having a baby in some shithole and she won’t be the last. Look at us – weren’t much older than her when we got up the duff. You had Milly young, and you not only survived, you did a bloody great job with her.’
Allowing the tears to come, Tia shook her head. ‘I want more for her though.’
‘I know, darlin’, and you’ll get more. It’ll work out, I know it will, but it’s just going to take time. I’m only sorry I can’t offer Milly a place to stay here, but you know what my poxy landlord’s like; he’s a right bastard and well, let’s face it, it ain’t really the right environment for Milly, is it?’
Tia looked at Lydia and smiled. She was grateful for a friend like Lydia. Someone who was always there for her, someone who never judged her no matter what.
She’d known Lydia for years, since she was a teenager, and although she was ten years older, Lydia had always looked out for her. Though of course, Tia kept her friendship with Lydia a secret from Harry. He didn’t want her to have friends; he didn’t want her to have anyone in her life apart from him.
‘I know, it’s just I hate seeing her where she is. But it’s the only place I can afford and you know as well as I do, even that’s a scrape. And it’s not like I can get any money from Harry. He checks all the bank statements and even if I buy a whole heap of designer gear, I can’t even sell it cos he ain’t stupid; he wants to see that as well. Harry basically thinks if I’ve got money, I’ve got power and that’s something he’s never wanted me to have.’
Nodding sympathetically, Lydia stuffed a piece of gum in her mouth. ‘He’s got you proper locked down, darlin’, but you know you’ll always have here.’
‘I appreciate that, Lydia. But the problem I’ve got now is trying to get out. It was bad enough before, him never letting me come or go as I please, but now I’ve got me own babysitter.’
Getting up and walking towards the door, Lydia asked. ‘What you talking about?’
‘He trusts me less than he did before, so he’s given me my own minder. And you’ll never guess who it is … It’s Vaughn.’
A look of shock crossed Lydia’s face. ‘What? You kidding me?’
Tia shook her head. ‘No. It’s Vaughn. Vaughn Sadler.’
Whilst Tia was talking to Lydia, a mile and a half away Vaughn was stomping across Oxford Street, barging angrily through the crowd of tourists sauntering across the road. He sighed as he felt his phone going off again. Fuck. It was the sixth time that Harry had called him and it was the sixth time that he’d ignored it. And each time he did, each time he didn’t answer it, he didn’t even need to try to imagine how Harry was feeling – he knew.
Harry would be gunning for him big time, ready to read him the riot act, which was something he knew that he couldn’t afford for Harry to do. He had to keep him on side, had to be some sort of frigging lap dog because he knew only too well that if Harry decided to drop him, to go back on the decision to help him out, then Wan and his men would sweep in like vultures. Then, it’d only be a matter of time before he was a dead man.
Hurrying along, he thought about switching off his mobile. There was a temptation to do so but he had no doubt that such an action would incite Harry’s anger even more and at the moment it was all about damage limitation.
Hearing a text buzz through, he pulled his phone out of his Hawes & Curtis taupe suede jacket to read it.
Where the fuck are you, you cunt?
Shoving it back in his pocket, Vaughn, seething with anger at the situation he was in, made his way through to Ramillies Street, contemplating the bollocking he’d give to Tia as well as trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to tell Harry that on the first day of minding her, he’d lost her.
And the truth was, walking along the street now, he had no idea where he was supposed to find her; he was really only going from street to street to make himself feel better, to make himself feel like he was one step closer to laying his eyes on her and one step closer to being able to phone Harry back and feed him some bullshit about why he hadn’t answered in the first place.
Approaching Great Marlborough Street, Vaughn suddenly froze as he caught sight of a familiar person. A person he wanted to speak to. But it wasn’t Tia, it was Franny. Franny Doyle, the person he hated more than he’d ever hated anyone in his life and the person who’d caused all this mess in the first place.
And even though he knew he probably shouldn’t, even though he knew he would be better off just searching for Tia, Vaughn couldn’t help himself and he began to follow Franny. For now, Harry and Tia would just have to wait.
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