Don't... 04 Backlash (3 page)

“You’re busy,
right, son?” offered Greg, not looking at Gray or Jan.

The quiet
was hard between father and son, but when it came on the back of a
mother who had arranged Jack’s rape to “sort out his disorders,” it
was partly understandable. Greg’s quiet had that
what did I miss as you were
growing up, son?
look about him; Jack’s was... hard to decipher. They were
both so close, usually, but Elena had worked her magic, driving a
chasm between father and son and laughing at how they both teetered
close to their edges. “Okay,” added Greg, “I’ll pop back in a few
days and give you a rundown of what’s going on at your side of
things. Steve’s handling the Strachan garage....” Greg had already
lost Jack as Jack took hold of a coaster and started spinning it on
the table. “It can wait another week.” It had waited for six months
now, and Jack still wasn’t ready to come fully out of hiding yet.
His look was all for Jan, but it tried to bury his own need to stay
in his
I’m not a
head-case
shadows.

Jack nodded and
got up, going over to Greg. His hug was... awkward, a little
forced, and Greg seemed to sense it, being the first to pull
away.

Jan seemed not
to notice as he gave a weary stretch and got to his feet. “I’ll get
you home and—”

“
No
.” Jack
eased off the instant he saw Jan jolt. “It’s just....”

“I brought him
here, Jack,” Jan said softly. “It’s okay. I’ve got big-boy bouncer
surveillance too.”

“I know,
but—”

“Ray will make
sure you get home, Greg,” Gray said distractedly, giving him a
gentle brush on the arm. Greg offered a small smile, but there was
a lot haunting it.

“I can take a
taxi.”

“No.” Gray
focused on Greg. “Ray’s on night surveillance at yours this week.
It’s his job.”

Greg had
the same look in Jack’s eyes then: that flare of anger at being
under
I’m a grown
man
surveillance.
“That’s not necessary.”

Gray put the
percolator on. “Yes it is.” A text through to Ray ensured it, and
the kitchen went quiet as the wait for an offer off Jack to walk
Greg to the door wasn’t met. Jan looked at Greg, then over at
Gray.

“I’ll see you
out.” Jan eased Greg toward the kitchen door. “I picked you up some
whiskey.”

“Glenfiddich?”
Greg looked wary.

“Of course.
There’s no other sort of whiskey, is there?” Despite everything
he’d been through, Jan offered such an air of gentleness that had
Greg easing the tension in his shoulders. He hummed approval, then
glanced back at Gray, at Jack. “Night, son.”

Jack dug his
hands deeper in trouser pockets. “Yeah. Night, Dad. See you in a
few days, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jack didn’t
catch the grief there in his eyes, but Gray did. “Night, Greg.” He
got a nod back.

Jack came alive
as soon as they left and he eased over, grabbing Gray’s mug and
taking over his coffee so fast Gray was left looking down as the
mug was stolen from his hands.

“Hungry?” Jack
grinned over.

“You need to
talk to him, Jack.”

Jack’s look
wasn’t kind then. “And say what? Hey, Dad, sorry for fucking up
your life?”

“You didn’t
fuck up his life.”

“
I always
fuck up life, and you know it.” Jack’s tone was a little harder.
“Besides, he’s my old man.” He started back on the coffee. “Some
things a parent doesn’t need to know.” He shouldered it away. “You
need some grub, mukka?” That bounce was back in Jack’s eyes, but
the familiarity with being called
friend
stung Gray a little more than it should.

“Just a
coffee.”

Jack shifted
over to the unit and started pulling pots and pans out to go on the
stove. Still lost in sorting through a cupboard, Jack glanced back,
more under his arm as he knelt there messing with the pans. “Yeah?
So what did you get at work?”

“Food.”

“What
kind?”

“The edible
variety.” Gray looked enviously at the empty coffee mug, hating the
sickness that turned his stomach. “Just a drink, Jack, please. No
fancy food, no interrogation over what kind of food, just... a
coffee. One sugar—”

“Yeah, yeah, no
fancy cream, just a nut-capful of sterilised milk, leaving it
strong enough to lighten the soul but harden the heart a touch.”
Jack winked as he eased to his feet, letting the pots and pans hide
back in the cupboard. “Coffee it is.” He seemed to think for a
second. “Got any arsenic for—”

“Ed,” said Gray
as he saw his grandfather come in and eye up Jack’s position. Jack
jolted slightly, leaving behind his Cold War stand-off as he eyed
Ed back. Give him his dues, Ed ignored Jack’s wild rush to fight,
instead settling at the kitchen table and opening the paper Jan
brought him. “Mine’s milk with two sugars, Jack. Thanks.”

Jack didn’t
move for a moment, looking torn between biting back calling Ed all
the fucks under the sun and knowing that he couldn’t, now that he
knew Ed wasn’t... the butler. Jack had a rough side, but his usual
love of, and for, family blocked him at every turn. Grumbling to
himself instead, Jack came back over to Gray, pulling a second mug
out of place and adding it next to Gray’s. Gray caught Ed’s smirk,
then just stared a little harder as Ed started to hum softly to
himself. Jack was oblivious to exactly what Ed was humming as he
finished the coffee and took one over to Ed.

“Cheers,
son.”

Jack mumbled
something, then turned his back. “That for me?” He came back over,
dragging Gray’s attention away from Ed, that smirk—that fucking
humming he was still doing. Jack pointed at the envelope in Gray’s
shirt pocket.

“It’s got your
name on it, stunner. You really have to ask seeing that?”

“It’s got your
name grafted on it, too, old mukka. And Jan’s. So fucking dibs on
opening it first.”

“Fucking dibs?”
Gray eyed him up. “Which bush were you dragged out from?”

“An alley,
mate. Find all sorts of MI5 diamonds pulling out the rough from
there.”

Gray snorted a
smile and handed the letter to Jack. “How did the meeting with
Halliday go today?” Jack and Jan were both still on weekly visits
for counselling with Halliday, and Jack flicked a look up as he
opened the letter.

“Be better if
Halliday could convince soft lad to take his sessions with me.”

“Jan’s time,
his pace, Jack.”

“Yeah, I know.”
There was a wistful smile there as Jack pulled the letter free.
“Halliday’s a top bloke; just don’t let him near a car. He couldn’t
tell a 110 alternator switch from a detonator.”

Gray ignored
the customary waggle of eyebrow as Jack opened the letter, because
Jack’s bastard side seemed to slip when his gaze ran over the
contents. He buried the need to take the invite from him. Only
before he could, Jan padded back into the kitchen.

“Oh mail call.”
He came over. “Anything interesting?” Jack didn’t have time to
reply before Jan had taken the letter from him and stood reading
it.

“A bit of a
knees-up,” said Jack.

“Party?” Jan’s
tone was a little less interested. “Whose?”

“Ours,” said
Jack. “Well, a belated birthday bash for us. And mukka, too, as we
missed his.”

Jan stiffened a
little, but it wasn’t because of missed birthdays.

“MC invite for
a private venue in a week’s time.” Jack added a lot of softness to
his voice. “No one else, just you... me... old mukka here.”

Jan looked back
down at the letter. “Not here?”

Gray took the
letter off him and gave a hard sigh. He knew the invite would take
them away from home, away from a surveillance routine that would
need to be transferred to the venue; it would take Jan outside of
his comfort zone of work and here, whereas Jack?

He still didn’t
do social for a reason.

Jack snuck
behind Jan, an arm slipping around a slim waist. “No? Just us, an
hour away from here. A soft tread away from the woods back into
life, things? Good food, better wine... lousy music if Gray’s on DJ
duty and raring for a good ol’ knees-up, but really interesting if
he’s our stripper gram.... We can see if he’s really up for a
secret... servicing.”

“And the barman
will be there,” said Gray as Ed choked on his coffee. Jan was left
chuckling.

Jack stopped
and glanced over at him. “This an Ed thing? Because you know three
in a bed is more than enough for me.”

From the
kitchen table, Ed’s hum turned a little louder.

“Just an hour,”
Jack said quietly, going in close to Jan’s ear. “You’ve worked
fucking hard, Jan. You need time away from work, from the manor,
from all this surveillance bollocks. Normal.” Jack closed his eyes
as he rested his head against Jan’s. “Christ, we need some normal
now, soft lad.”

“You finally
itching to get back to work, things? Get back into normal too?” Jan
offered a weak smile back. “If the party helps... maybe—”

“Yeah?” Jack’s
eyes lit up. “Seriously? That’s good enough to run with for now.”
And he bounced out of the kitchen, leaving Jan standing there
possibly wondering where the wild wind had taken him to. Ed just
carried on humming.

“Stop it.” Gray
picked up his mug and glanced at Ed.

“What?” Ed
offered an innocent look over his paper before starting back on his
hum.

“Just stop
it.”

Jan frowned
between them.

“
Hen
Wlad fy Nhadau
,”
added Gray to Jan in Welsh and only weighing down his confusion.
“
Land of My
Forefathers.
”

Jan didn’t
quite get it and Gray offered over his coffee, thinking he might
need something to choke out when he told him. “The Welsh National
Anthem.”

“Oh.” The
coffee never even reached Jan’s lips as he choked a
longer—“Ohhh!”

“We’re not
going home,” Gray said to Ed.

“Cases are
still packed.”

“Yours are. And
it’s getting very tempting.”

Ed only smiled
at him over his paper before flicking the edge at him again.

“This party.
It’s not something we have to dress formally for, is it?” Jan
asked, and Gray ignored how it made him feel seeing Jan wrap his
hand around Gray’s mug . “I’m not really into wearing a suit,” he
mumbled into the mug.

Ed glanced over
as Gray took the coffee mug back and finished off the heat. “You
don’t have to do anything, Jan. Remember that.”

He got a
nod, followed by a scratch of head. “That secret code for
talk Jack the hell out of
it, please, Jan
?”

Gray hid his
smile behind his coffee mug. “Maybe.”

“
The
whole
Knees-up
Mother Brown
still
not your thing either? I’ll see what I can do.”

Guilt crept up
and Gray looked away. Where was the justification over jealousy
when Jan looked and spoke like that?

Despite Jan’s
quietness over the party invite, he hadn’t convinced Jack to back
down. Or Gray’s concern was there how Jan’s quietness had seen the
party slip out of memory for a while. Maybe Jan needed time away?
Maybe they all did? Gray hadn’t pushed them both either way,
knowing this had to be their decision. He gave a hard sigh as he
stood in his reception hall and looked down at his mobile before
they left for the nightclub.

You?
A birthday party?

Gray snorted
seeing the instant message off Trace.

No
poisoning the punters, bright eyes. Relax. Enjoy. And if Jack gets
you to wear one of those pink Fuck Me Quick party hats, send me a
picture.

Gray thumbed a
reply, but it wasn’t pretty; then he slipped the phone back in his
suit pocket. Ed was out checking up on Mrs Booth tonight, so Jack
could find some peace for a few hours if he did decide to stay. But
Jan was caught staring at a piece of artwork just over by the
staircase, a frown to his face as he tried to place exactly where
he’d seen it before. Gray went over and slipped an arm around his
waist, shaping him from behind. There was a slight flinch, but Jan
settled.

“I know this,”
said Jan. “I mean, I’ve seen this somewhere before.”

Gray said
nothing, just let him study it. Sometimes Jan seemed to lose his
focus as tiredness took over, and it was showing more and more
lately. A few months back, Jan had celebrated his birthday in a
London art museum, taking a tour of the artwork, but staying on the
edge of the crowd. It was a day that shouldn’t have been spent
alone, so Gray had made a point of being back in the country, even
if he had been in the background, out of sight, and just keeping an
eye on him in the crowd.

Jan had seen
this painting there.

Stood
farther back and almost out of sight in the gallery, Gray had been
pissed off when the docent had fucked up the only element that
seemed to ground Jan: his love of art and interpretation. The
docent leading the tour had stood beneath this painting and recited
how it was the only rendition of
A Welsh Funeral
by David Cox.

Bullshit, he’d
nearly called. Cox had covered this particular funeral procession a
few times in different forms, sometimes darkening the sky to give
Bettws-y-Coed and the surrounding mountains of Caernarvonshire,
North Wales, a more sombre tone. Gray had walked those mountains,
had walked the same footsteps that the funeral procession took,
just as Cox had done, and the bite had been there to drag the man
out and rough him up for his ignorance; that or sit Jack there with
him and force the man to try and stop Jack from setting fire to the
art, with how much he hated wasting time on interpretation. Gray
would be there with Jack, preferring to have the art torn apart
over hearing bad interpretations of Welsh home soil.