Читать книгу Disobey - Jacqui Rose, Jacqui Rose - Страница 15

‘Will you just sit down, Vaughn!’ Casey Edwards sat at the kitchen table in Lola’s flat watching her soon-to-be husband pacing up and down. He’d been pacing for the last hour and a half, ever since he’d got the phone call from one of his men, and it was now playing on her nerves. ‘Vaughn, please! Can’t you go and pace somewhere else?’

‘I’m thinking.’

‘Well can’t you think in the car, I thought you wanted to get back home?’

Vaughn swung round to look at Casey. She was so beautiful and he was a lucky man, but she needed to understand things had changed. Everything had changed. And he wasn’t going anywhere, not until this was all over.

He’d just got a call from one of his men, letting him know there’d been some trouble at Alfie’s club, and also that Sarp, the Turkish restaurant owner from Greek Street, had gone missing. As for Alfie’s club, he didn’t know what was going on there but apparently something about a casino had been mentioned.

Vaughn shook his head as he thought about it. There was no way Alfie could really be so stupid, so fucking muppet-like as to open a casino right under the noses of the triads. No, he might be a lot of things and do a lot of things, but that? To bring the devil to the door, knowing it wouldn’t be just him who would be in the firing line. No, surely not.

Alfie had sat there and seen the state Lola was in when the triads had thrown a warning fire bomb in the café. He’d been as angry as the others to think the triads were coming on their territory. There was no way it was an act. Vaughn’s men must have got it wrong about the casino. Or they better have got it wrong. Because if they hadn’t, this stunt of Alfie’s would certainly be his last.

‘You go, Cass. I’m going to stay in Soho.’

Casey looked amazed. One of the things she loved about Vaughn was that he’d put all his old life behind him. He hadn’t seemed to miss his old life like so many of the other retired gangsters; he’d been satisfied to take it easy.

Casey had played hostess many times at the lavish dinner parties she and Vaughn had at his sprawling Kent mansion, listening to the retired faces who could no longer cut it or who no longer had the edge to stay; all dissatisfied and unable to take to civilian life. But Vaughn had been different; he’d found peace outside the world of violence and multi-million-pound deals. But since the attack on Lola’s café last week he’d become obsessed with catching up with the people who’d done it. Almost overnight, the Vaughn Casey had known changed into a hard ruthless man, set on revenge.

‘Vaughn, this isn’t a one-man crusade. What about the others, they can help sort it out as well. There’s Del, Johnny, Alf …’ The moment Casey began to say Alfie’s name she immediately regretted it, as she saw the look in Vaughn’s eye. His voice was cold and agitated.

‘Alfie? Are you fucking serious? That man’s caused enough grief, wouldn’t you say, Cass?’

Casey decided to remain silent. Vaughn and Alfie’s history went way back. At one time, at the height of Vaughn and Alfie’s friendship breakdown, Alfie had told Vaughn he’d slept with her. And although Alfie Jennings had eventually admitted nothing had happened between him and Casey, it was still a sore spot for Vaughn when she talked about Alfie with any form of affection or positivity.

‘Well, Cass?’ Vaughn stood in front of Casey. She could see he was pushing for a fight, which would be his excuse to stay in London without having to discuss it with her. Well she wasn’t going to be goaded. If he wanted to stay in Soho then she wasn’t going to let him put it on her. She remained silent, staring at Vaughn.

Eventually Lola, having finished consuming a runny egg sandwich, broke the silence.

‘Listen Casey, Vaughnie is just doing what he knows best. He’s old school. Them triads need to be stopped and put in their place. This is Soho. Our Soho. Me and Vaughn’s. All of us have been round here as long as me memory will take me back. It’s where we belong. It’s all some of us know; all some of us want. You’re not from round here, love, so it’s different for you, harder for you to understand. But this is our home and we’ll do anything to protect it. So let Vaughnie do what needs to be done.’

Casey shook her head. ‘Lola, you know I love you like my own mum, and you’re right I’m not from round here, but neither is Vaughn, not anymore. He’s moved on. I’m not asking him to turn his back on you or Soho, I’d never do that, but he needs to leave it to the others, take a step back.’

Lola shook her head, her warm smile cutting through her craggy wrinkled skin. ‘Cass, it’s in him. Soho is in his blood. No matter what, that will always be the case and no matter how much he loves you, Soho will always come first.’

Casey was about to object but as she watched Vaughn walk out of the room without saying a word, something told her Lola might just be right.

The AA meeting in Greek Street was empty, save for an old man and a twenty-something skinny woman whose eyes gave away her hard life. But it wasn’t the people Casey had come to see, it was the sense of support she felt when she walked into the hidden meetings which could be found in every town. These sobriety meetings had saved her life. Stopped her from destroying herself when nothing else could reach her.

But as she’d got better, she’d relaxed, hadn’t bothered attending so many meetings, and that had been fine, but one morning last month she’d woken up and from nowhere the cravings had returned. That overwhelming sense of needing a drink. No matter what. No matter how much it hurt her or anyone else, the need to feel the burn of the alcohol hit the back of her throat had become overwhelming.

The cravings which in the past would’ve led to her putting herself in compromising situations with men and drugs were the demons which had brought her to Soho in the first place. Casey had come searching to put the past right, and whilst doing so had put herself right. Her life had gone from unmanageable to downright good. Life had come together. Her life finally had a purpose, and of course then there was Vaughn. She loved him and that love wouldn’t have been possible if she was still a drunk. A lush. He was again part of the reason she needed to stay sober because if she didn’t, it wouldn’t be a question of if she might lose Vaughn, it would just be a question of when.

But how could Casey tell him that their life and her sobriety were in danger of collapsing because of a craving? An urge so strong that in the past, when she’d been married to her first husband, she’d found herself sleeping with strangers just to get a drink.

Even at the time Vaughn had never really understood, although he’d tried. Although he’d seen Casey battle to stay sober, he couldn’t really get his head round the fact that booze came before most things, including him at times.

So here she was, sitting in a darkened basement, desperate to keep clean. But it was hard, so hard; if it wasn’t for the relationship with Vaughn she wasn’t sure if she’d have the strength to go another day without having a drink.