The restaurant in Chinatown was packed to capacity. Each table was covered with red paper tablecloths and untouched pots of green tea. It was gone midnight and Vaughn had devoured a plate of special fried rice, roast mixed barbecued meat and a large bowl of prawn crackers. He was in the process of eyeing up the Peking duck Casey was pushing round her plate, not having touched any of it.
‘How about I
order you something stronger than water, and you give me your food? That way we’ll both feed our hunger.’
Casey answered him tightly.
‘No thanks.’
‘Not drinking?’
‘Something like that.’
Vaughn carefully scrutinised Casey’s reaction to the question; he watched as she fidgeted with her empty glass, putting her finger in it to stir round the ice and stealing a glimpse at him before looking back down again.
‘So why are you here, Casey? What’s the big secret?’
‘No secret; nothing to tell. I just fancied a fresh start.’
‘It’s hardly a fresh start working in a place like Lola’s.’
‘Suits me fine. It’s uncomplicated. I had a bit of a hard time when I broke up with my last boyfriend; knocked me sideways a bit. Pretty usual stuff really; sorry to disappoint you – there’s no mystery I’m afraid.’
Casey smiled, and as she put her head down she hoped the answer she’d given Vaughn would be enough to satisfy his curiosity.
Vaughn walked the short distance from Chinatown back to Soho telling Casey about his roses, still trying to place where he knew her face from. For some reason he could hear an alarm bell ringing even though what she’d said made sense, but throughout his criminal past, he’d rarely ignored his gut feeling and on the few times he had, he’d found himself well and truly stitched up.
The problem also was, he was desperate for there not to be a problem because he liked her; liked her a lot. In the past, he’d never bothered with full-time relationships; he’d enjoyed having his pick of women without the emotional responsibility of them; he wasn’t good with matters of the heart.
He’d loved his mother, but not his father particularly. His younger sister, who now lived on one of New Zealand’s beautiful coastlines, he also loved; and he loved his goddaughter Emmie, and of course he’d loved Connor. Four people. In all his years, he’d only given his heart to four people, and he knew two of them were by default.
When it came to intimate relationships, once the woman had picked up her Alan Whickers off the bedroom floor, he never gave them a second thought. But like he’d heard them say on the movies he’d hated watching but his mother had always loved, she was different. Casey was different
and he was struggling with it.
‘You can leave me here. I’m going to have a walk round before I go back to the flat.’
‘Here?’ Vaughn knew he sounded worried. ‘Why don’t I walk you back to your flat, Cass? Then if you want to go walkabouts at least I’ll know I’ve done my job and dropped you to your front door. Humour me.’
Casey turned her head away from his warm eyes. She didn’t want to get involved; she had too much to worry about without adding more complications.
He twisted her towards him and only for a moment did she find herself resisting. He caressed her face and she leant into his hand, closing her eyes and enjoying the closeness she hadn’t realised she was missing.
‘Come back home with me, Casey.’
Casey shook her head; she didn’t want her old life back, having sex with people she didn’t know or care about; but if she were honest she knew that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was she liked Vaughn; she liked him a lot, and that meant she needed to keep away.
She couldn’t be distracted by Vaughn or by anyone else; it would be all too easy to let herself forget what she was here to do by being with Vaughn, but Casey knew all she’d be doing was burying her head and hiding away as she’d always done, scared of being hurt again. But this was probably her last chance to sort her life out and find her child, and as painful as it might be, this time round Casey was determined nothing would get in her way of doing that.
‘Then let me come to your place.’ He put his hand under her chin and lifted it up, placing a gentle yet passionate kiss on her lips. Casey could feel the hardness of his body against hers.
‘No Vaughn.’ She pushed him away and saw the look of confusion on his face.
‘What’s the matter, Cass? I thought you wanted to?’
‘I do, but I can’t. I have to go. Goodnight.’ She turned and left Vaughn standing on the corner of Brewer Street, confused.
It was four thirty in the morning and the streets were still full of people. Drunks, spurned lovers and disgruntled club goers, left out in the cold. Casey saw them all. She hadn’t gone inside when she’d left Vaughn, instead walking through to Piccadilly Circus and down towards Trafalgar Square, and had found a late night bar behind the National Portrait Gallery.
She’d stood outside the bar for a while before walking in. Looking at the array of hard liquor behind the bar had made her involuntarily lick her lips and it’d been on the tip of her tongue to order a whisky chaser, but instead she’d ordered only a juice, to the raised eyebrows of the bartender.
She’d have stayed happily through till sunrise watching Sky News on mute, but the barman had had other ideas.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the bar will be closing in five minutes. Drink up please.’
He’d spoken to Casey as he collected the empties.
‘No home to go to?’
‘Yes, but not one I’m in a rush to get back to.’
It was getting chilly now and Casey pulled her jacket around her tightly. She’d forgotten to put any money on the key meter and she didn’t fancy the walk down Shaftesbury Avenue to the twenty-four-hour newsagents to top it up. The flat would be icy when she got back.
She walked past Whispers Comedy Club, which was all locked up, and stopped as she passed the silver double doors, hearing a noise down the tiny side passage which led to the back door fire exit.
Curiosity got the better of her and she cautiously went to the entrance of the passageway. Craning her neck round the corner she squinted to see who or what it was. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley, Casey was able to make out the sturdy frame of Alfie. She raised her hand to wave, about to call hello, but she stopped as she made out the outline of three women.
Deciding it was best not to say anything, Casey turned to walk away – and jumped with fright as she stood inches away from Oscar Harding. Fear kicked in and for a second Casey thought about screaming. The sneer on his face was full of hatred and Casey couldn’t help picturing Lola’s scar. In panic Casey started to explain her reasons for being there.
‘Err, I heard a noise; thought it could’ve been a burglar.’
Oscar continued to stare at her, his face twisted with rage. He grabbed hold of the top of Casey’s arm, making her yelp out. He pushed her roughly down the alleyway and through the fire exit into the back room. Once inside, Casey caught a glimpse of Alfie with the three young women slightly in front of him, disappearing down the corridor.
‘What the fuck is she doing here?’ Alfie glared at Oscar, shutting the door behind him as he came back into the room on his own five minutes later.
‘Found her sneaking round the back.’
Casey shot a stare at Oscar and directed what she was going to say to Alfie, trying to keep her voice steady.
‘That’s not entirely true. I wasn’t round the back, I was passing and I heard a noise. And as I said to your friend here, I thought it was a burglar.’
‘And you decided to investigate? Seems a little odd.’
‘No more so than being bundled in here.’
‘Touché.’
Alfie glanced at Oscar, thinking what a prick he was. What the fuck he thought he was doing dragging people off the street, he’d no idea. He was too paranoid.
‘I’m sorry Casey; I think Oscar has taken his Robert De Niro impression a step too far. We’re cashing up and he gets jittery; thinks all the takings are going to be robbed. Then bang goes his dream of retiring to the Costa Del Sol.’
Casey could feel the tension in the room and she knew Alfie was lying but she didn’t know why. She was curious to know about the women and if they were the same girls she’d seen upstairs, but she wasn’t so stupid as to ask.
‘Why don’t I get Oscar to walk you home? Make sure you get there safely.’
The last person Casey wanted walking her home was Oscar, and she certainly didn’t want him knowing where she lived.
‘No, it’s fine, really.’
‘I insist.’
Casey could hear the underlying threat in his voice and the way Alfie said it made her aware she had no choice. Without thinking, she spoke. ‘I can’t because I’m waiting for Vaughn, that’s why I’m here; I said I’d meet him outside the club. He’s just left me to go and get his car.’
‘Vaughn doesn’t drive into town.’
‘What can I say? It’s what he told me. Maybe he’s gone to look for a cab.’
Casey looked round nervously at Oscar as Alfie spoke with a wry smile on his face. She could tell he didn’t believe her.
‘I tell you what, Casey, why don’t I give Vaughn a call to clear up this misunderstanding?’
Casey wanted the ground to swallow her up. Why had she said such a stupid thing? All she could do now was hope that Vaughn would back her up. But then why would he? He was Alfie’s friend, not hers.
As Casey watched Alfie pick up his phone to make the phone call, she felt her legs start to tremble.
Vaughn Sadler felt the phone ring in his pocket but he didn’t have any intention of answering it. He had a good hand and he wasn’t about to take a late night phone call in the middle of a card game.
It was after the fifth time that Vaughn, more annoyed he was ten thousand down than by the persistent ringing, answered his phone.
‘This better be fucking good.’
‘Vaughn, it’s Alf. I’ve got someone here who says they’re waiting for you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Says you were going to get your car.’
‘I don’t fucking drive my car into town, you know that. Congestion charge; daylight fucking robbery – and I won’t drive if I’m drinking.’
‘That’s what I told her.’
‘Her?’
‘Casey.’
Vaughn blanched and threw his cards in, gesturing he was out of the game. What the hell was going on? And why the fuck was Casey with Alfie?
‘So I take it she’s telling me porky pies then, Vaughn? I thought so.’
‘Actually Alf, I
was
going to meet her but I decided to give her the big shrug off. Didn’t have the heart to tell her. I’m going soft.’
Vaughn listened to the silence, almost able to hear Alfie deciding whether to believe him.
‘So what shall I tell her? She thinks you’re coming back for her.’
‘Tell her I’m sorry but I got held up.’
‘I’ll get Oscar to take her back.’
‘Oscar?’
‘Yeah; always the Boy Scout.’
‘On second thoughts, I’ll be there in ten.’
Sunday lunchtime came and went. Casey was still asleep and Vaughn stroked her hair, kissing her gently on her forehead as she slept. He’d picked her up from the club and they’d jumped in a taxi. He’d insisted she came home with him.
Vaughn had never been the most patient of men and it’d taken him all his willpower not to demand to know what the hell she thought she was playing at sneaking around the back of the club at nearly four in the morning. But all he’d done was keep his mouth shut, show her to one of his numerous spare guest rooms, and let her go to bed.
He’d waited and made sure that she was fast asleep before having a rummage through her bag, but there was nothing to give anything away. Her mobile phone was devoid of any stored numbers and her purse was almost empty, but he remedied that by slipping in a fifty-pound note. Maybe she had been telling the truth after all, and she was exactly who she said she was. He hoped for his sake she was.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep, Casey stirred and opened her eyes, taking a moment to remember where she was.
‘Good morning, or should I say good afternoon, sleepy head.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Time to tell me exactly what you were doing last night.’
‘Why does everyone think
I
was doing something? I went to a bar after I’d left you and on the way home, I walked past Whispers.
I heard a noise and before I knew what was happening
,
Oscar was dragging me into the club.’
Casey gave a half smile but Vaughn scowled; this was the first time he had heard this part of the story and he could feel his jaw tightening.
‘Did he hurt you?’
‘It’s no big deal. It’s just a misunderstanding.’
Vaughn got up from the bed and started to pace around the pastel-coloured bedroom furiously. One thing guaranteed to make him come out of retirement and break somebody’s legs was scum who pushed women around, especially when it came in the sinister form of Oscar Harding.
‘Vaughn, sit down. Really, it’s no big deal.’ Casey said this knowing she wasn’t fooling either herself or Vaughn, but she could see what she’d said was making him angry, and she certainly didn’t want to make an awful situation worse. What she needed to do was to try and placate him.
‘I’m not a china doll; I’m much tougher than you think. Perhaps it was all a misunderstanding.’
Vaughn spoke roughly but not harshly to Casey, his eyes blazing with fury.
‘Misunderstanding? Are you for real? Get dressed, I’m taking you home. I’ve got somebody I need to see.’
Casey pulled on her clothes as Vaughn left the room and worried about what she’d started.
Another person who knew about misunderstandings was Lola Harding. But what her ex-husband had put her through was no misunderstanding. He’d meant every single second of her agony, and as she looked in the mirror at the weeping sore on her cheek, she wished she could pay him back somehow.
Standing in the tiny bathroom with the 1970s avocado bathroom suite, Lola attempted to re-dress her burn with the lint and gauze the hospital had given her.
She’d kept her mouth shut about how it’d happened when she’d gone to the emergency outpatients’ in Charing Cross Hospital. The Indian doctor on duty had tried to grill her about the injury but she was used to keeping schtum, and in the end the doctor had given up trying and had sent her home with dressings and antibiotics.