Читать книгу Broken Silence - Liz Mistry - Страница 20

Nikki needed to unwind after the emotionally charged business of telling the heavily pregnant Stevie Blake what had happened to her wife. She forced her shoulders to relax as she drove round the Listerhills Estate streets. This was something she often did before heading home for the evening. Keeping an eye on her patch as she drove had two benefits. One, she kept her finger on the pulse and two, she didn’t take as much of her work home with her as usual.

Fliss! For God’s sake, Fliss? Who’d have thought jagged, cold Springer would be called Fliss? She frowned. Who’d have thought jagged, cold Springer would have a pregnant wife? Shit, Nikki had suspected she ate children for breakfast but that whole scenario was turned on its head. Now that she’d met Springer’s pregnant partner and liked her, it was even more imperative to get Springer home. She was invested in this now.

Her headlights picked up figures scurrying into the darkness of the ginnels. That was something else to worry about. Franco and Deano, the dealers she’d got rid of last year, may be gone, but there was always another rat ready to pop up from the sewers … no wonder she hated the vermin so much. Deliberately, she turned off the side street and into the cobbled back alley that separated two lines of terraces, and trawled down it in second gear. It was three streets over from her own home yet this was always one she kept an eye on. It backed onto one edge of the Rec and was prime land for drug deals, besides, there had been a worrying increase in machete attacks nearby in the last two weeks. Where there were machete attacks, Nikki’s experience told her there were also Class As, other weapons and gullible kids to get caught up in the bravado and cheap sell of a Lamborghini, a snazzy wristwatch and posh mobile. She’d spoken to the drug squad before and although they were keeping an eye open and supposedly receiving intel about the new kingpin, nothing seemed to be confirmed. Well, nothing her contact, Joe Drummond, was willing to share. In the meantime, there was an air of expectancy, like a toxic cloud hovering over her estate and Nikki wasn’t going to stand for that. She reached the bottom of the ginnel, hoping her exhaust wouldn’t fall off – she’d no spare cash to replace that, not if she was going to replace the battery – and waited, looking to her right and left.

A figure dodged out from a back yard further down, didn’t even look in Nikki’s direction and loped off down the ginnel, dodging the puddles, shoulders hunched and hood up. As he dipped under one of the few still-working streetlamps she cursed. ‘Fuck’s sake Haqib. Do you never learn?’ and she was out of her car, leaving the engine running and her door open as she darted after him. ‘Haqib?’

He hesitated, seemed to consider whether to speed up or turn and face the music. Thankfully, for him, the latter instinct won.

‘Whassup, Aunt Nikki?’ He splayed his hands in front of him, sulky mouth drooping, attitude in the way he hunched his shoulders.

‘What you doing out at this time? It’s after ten and you, I believe, are still grounded after Fingergate.’ She was well aware that she was being harsh. The lad’s finger had been amputated and reattached nearly a year ago. Sometimes though, it paid to remind him of what his last brush with drugs had resulted in.

Haqib winced and flexed his little finger. ‘That’s a bit tight, innit? That were last year. I’ve not been grounded for months now.’

Hands on hips, Nikki inhaled slowly. ‘I’ll tell you what’s tight, Haqib Parekh. Skipping out of the house behind your mum’s back – that’s what’s tight. Breaking your word – that’s tight too, hanging out here—’

‘Yeah, yeah, I get it. That’s tight too.’ Haqib mimicked his auntie’s tone.

Nikki reached over and gently cuffed the back of his head, ‘No, that’s not bloody tight … that’s stupid. S.T.U.P.I.D. Stupid – got it?’

‘I ain’t doing drugs, you know. I’m not that mental.’

Nikki raised an eyebrow, not caring how harsh she was being. Haqib worried her. A young Asian lad trying to be cocky, trying to be a big man, was a worry for her. Her sister Anika, Haqib’s mum, seemed content to leave it up to Nikki to sort her son out. Not that she had a reliable good male role model to offer Haqib. But that was another story. She studied the bloom of red that spread across his cheeks. That was guilt all right, but not the sort of blasé, fast-talking guilt she was used to from her nephew. ‘So, spill!’

A voice from behind her had Nikki spinning on her heel.

‘It’s me he came to see, Mrs Parekh.’

The girl was tall – taller than Haqib, skinnier than was healthy, blonde with blue eyes and a dimple in the middle of her chin. At present her eyes looked worried as she darted glances towards Haqib and each hand worried at the sleeve of her jacket. The girl looked familiar, but it took a minute for Nikki to place her and when she did, she groaned inwardly. Fuck’s sake Haqib, if it’s not drugs, it’s inappropriate relationships. ‘You’re Glass’s sister, aren’t you?’

The girl nodded. ‘Michelle – Chelle-to-my-mates.’

The words ran together and for a second Parekh thought she was telling her she had a different surname to her brother. Chelle-to-her-mates indeed. Who did she think she was – bloody royalty?

‘Haq isn’t doing drugs. He knows it’s for idiots, don’t you, Haq?’

Haqib, mouth hanging open, looking exactly like an idiot himself at that precise moment, nodded. Lovestruck, that’s what he is. But did he have to be lovestruck over Adam Glass’s sister? Of all the girls on the estate, her nuisance of a nephew had to go for the one most likely to have him losing another digit – if not something worse.

‘So …’ Nikki chewed her lip, trying to come up with something auntie-ish to say, but could only manage, ‘You’re both bloody stupid. Do you really think your white-supremacist brother, office holder in Albion First, Yorkshire’s answer to the EDL, is going to sit back and let you date an Asian boy … a Muslim boy?’

Michelle’s eyes darted to the ground and then almost immediately straight back up again. She met Nikki’s gaze. ‘We love each other, me and Haq. We’re like Romeo and Juliet, aren’t we, Haq?’ Her face flushed, her lips turned up, her eyes full of love as she looked at her boyfriend.

Looking a little embarrassed, Haqib managed a mumbled, ‘It’s not like I’m proper Muslim anyway, is it? Dun’t go to mosque or owt.’

Nikki somehow managed to swallow her snort of laughter, but one look at Haqib’s hurt expression told her that her face had given her away. The lad was right, he wasn’t Muslim, apart from when Anika decided to try to impress her married lover and Haqib’s dad. ‘Look, I’m sorry. Really, I am. I can remember being your age and thinking I was in—’

‘Told you she wouldn’t understand and if she dun’t understand, Chelle, then my mum won’t stand for it either. We’re doomed.’ Haqib looked ferocious, his eyes flashing, and Nikki sighed. There was no need for her to be such an arse. No need at all. Especially when she should be pleased that Haqib wasn’t involved with the druggies. Still, going out with Adam Glass’s sister wasn’t a whole lot safer for him. Glass was an upstart thug … but he was an upstart thug with friends – organized friends!

Aw, for goodness’ sake. Nikki was beginning to wish she’d gone straight home and not done her usual trawl of the area. She hated this sort of crap. Marcus, on the other hand, was good at this. Maybe she could get him to have a word with Listerhills’ answer to Titanic. She scowled, wishing she’d opted for a simile that didn’t involve the male lead losing his life. Mind you, Michelle’s analogy to Romeo and Juliet was no more promising.

Using every reserve of patience she had, and channelling a little of her memory of the feelings she’d once had for her deceased husband, Nikki smiled. When the girl took a step closer to Haqib and grabbed his arm, angling herself slightly behind him, Nikki realized her ‘smile’ was less reassuring than she’d hoped. ‘Look. I can’t be all warm and fuzzy about this. Your brother is a racist scumbag.’ Oops, should’ve toned that down a little. But when Nikki looked at Michelle, the girl was nodding, a slight smile on her face.

‘He is, Adam’s a racist. He’s a thug. But … I’m not. I don’t mind Pakis. Anyway, Haqib’s not pure Paki. He’s a half-caste.’ The girl’s smile widened as if she was expecting a pat on the back for her enlightened views.

Flinching at the ‘P’ word that had so glibly dropped from Chelle’s mouth, followed as quickly by the equally offensive ‘half-caste’, Nikki was amazed that her nephew didn’t even seem to register it. ‘Eh. I think you mean Pakistani, not Paki and we don’t use half-caste either. It’s a racist term. Mixed race or dual heritage are better.’

Chelle wafted her hand in a ‘whatever’ gesture and continued. ‘Anyway, what I’m saying is, my brother in’t here any more, so Haqib and I can be together properly.’

Haqib blushed again and Nikki decided not to wonder what ‘properly’ entailed for the two kids but she made a mental note to ask Marcus to get in a supply of condoms and do the ‘dad’ chat with Haqib. She was more concerned with wondering where Adam Glass was going and for how long. She liked to keep an eye on idiots like Glass and it was always useful to know where they were. As for the racist crap – she’d have a word with Haqib later about appropriate use of language and not falling into the ‘you’re not like the others’ trap that white racists often used to justify their own prejudice. ‘Heading off somewhere, is he? Your brother?’

Haqib stepped forward, fingers linked through his girlfriend’s, tone eager. ‘He’s been demoted like. No longer head honcho of Albion First.’

Eyes narrowed, Nikki studied Haqib. Why wasn’t this common knowledge? Why hadn’t her snitches told her this? This was big, with widespread implications for Bradford and beyond. ‘You sure?’

It was Michelle who answered. ‘They came for him in the middle of the night two nights ago, dragged him from his bed. Me and my mum were bricking it, but they just told us to keep schtum. She won’t say it, but Mum’s as glad as I am to see the back of him. Couldn’t stand the idiots he brought round to the house. Hated them.’

‘Who came for him?’

‘Albion First. They all had masks on, but who else could it be? They said summat about laundry and that if he didn’t spill the codes, he’d be a goner.’

Laundry … Could that be laundering? Was Glass laundering money? She hadn’t had him down for that and Joe Drummond, her eyes and ears in vice, hadn’t alerted her to that either. Maybe he was doing it for someone further up the chain? Albion First had little cells all over the region and they were being funded somehow. Perhaps Glass was doing more than just being a henchman. Possibly he was involved in ensuring their economic viability. If she was heading up an extreme right-wing party, she’d use someone like him as her patsy. ‘And you’ve not seen him since then?’

‘Nope, but he texted. Said he had to leave the country.’

‘Why would his own thugs come and take him away? That doesn’t make sense.’ Nikki was talking more to herself than the two kids, but Haqib answered like he thought she was losing it.

‘Duh, because he was double dealing, everyone knew that. On the one hand he’s heading up that Albion First shit and on the other he’s cutting deals with that new guy from Wakefield that’s taken over from Franco. Word is he’s into some bad stuff, but nobody knows his name.’

This was all news to Nikki and she didn’t like it. She always kept her finger on the pulse of Bradford and on her estate in particular. The fact that this had escaped her notice vexed her. Had Drummond kept her out of the loop? Surely not. They’d done favours for each other for years now and he’d always kept her informed. Well, she’d soon find out. She turned to love’s young dreamers, trying to ignore the fact that they had their tongues down each other’s throats and coughed loudly. When she had their attention, she tried out a friendly grin. ‘You two need to skip off home, right now. Listerhills isn’t safe till we suss out what’s going on.’ Nikki took out her mobile and as the kids sidled away in opposite directions, she phoned Joe.

The phone rang for ages, before it was answered by an annoyed voice, ‘Yeah, Parekh. Bad timing, as per usual.’

Nikki could hear the sounds of a disgruntled female voice complaining in the background and choosing to ignore Joe’s words, jumped straight in. ‘Did you know about this mysterious guy from Wakefield?’

The silence on the end of the phone told her all she needed to know. ‘You bastard. You knew there was someone new on my streets and you didn’t tell me?’

The unmistakable sounds of someone getting out of bed reached Nikki’s ears. ‘Look love, all we know is this boss is well under the radar. Seems like the fucker wears a damn invisibility cloak. We’ve no idea if he’s from Wakefield. None of our snitches are spilling, we’ve got reports of human-trafficking, rumours of huge weapons stashes, lorry loads of heroin dispersing throughout the district.

‘What about Glass – where does he fit in?’

‘Glass?’ Joe sounded surprised, so Nikki continued.

‘Word is he was picked up from his house and has gone AWOL.’

‘Shit! Glass has been picked up from his house? Things are unstable in Bradford … really unstable and we can’t seem to get a handle on it. Thanks for passing on your intel. It’s useful, but you need to focus on that Springer case, yeah?’

Nikki frowned. What wasn’t Joe sharing? ‘You will keep—’

But he’d hung up and Nikki wanted to throw her phone at the wall. Who the hell was Joe Drummond to hang up on her! Okay, so what if it was a Sunday evening and he was with his latest girlfriend? He owed her. Stamping her feet, causing slush to drench her jeans, before spinning on her heel, she trudged back to her vehicle, got in and resumed her nightly rounds. Something was off in this area and, even if it killed her, she’d find out what it was. An invisible kingpin was worrisome. She much preferred the ones that she could see. The ones that were in the open. It was the insidious ones that caused more damage.

A half-hour later, shoulders aching with being hunched over her steering wheel, Nikki turned into her own street and parked up in the only space she could find which was just outside her mother’s house. Her sister’s and Nikki’s homes were half a dozen doors further down on the opposite side of the road. Since everything that had happened before, Nikki had got into the habit of sitting in her car for a few minutes to clear some of her work from her mind before entering the house. That way she was able to be present in Marcus’s company. He appreciated it and it was working for them now they’d moved in together.

The kids too were happier. So what if on occasion she resented not having her own space, resented not being able to lie on her bed and work through things in peace. Overall, things were better … and Marcus was alive. A movement out of the corner of her eye made her glance up. A man in a parka with the hood up was sidling down the street. When he stopped at Anika’s gate and cast a glance at Nikki’s house, Nikki cursed. Bloody Anika is seeing Yousaf again. Will my sister ever learn that Haqib’s dad is bad for her?

She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, using the technique shown her by the psychiatrist she had to see in order to be cleared for work. Despite her initial misgivings the therapy had proved beneficial. Hands resting at ten and two o’clock on the steering wheel, eyes closed, Nikki repeated the action, consciously releasing the tension from her shoulders and across her back. When the passenger door opened and someone slid into the seat, she continued breathing, but this time with a slight smile on her lips. ‘Caught me again, Marcus.’

‘Couldn’t stand to be away from you a moment longer.’ Marcus’s tone was light and teasing. ‘You eaten?’

Nikki thought about that, then opened her eyes. ‘Not since I had to miss half of that stupendous Sunday dinner you cooked.’

‘Just as well I saved you a plate then, isn’t it?’

He settled in and the two of them savoured the companionable silence. She was so lucky. So damn lucky to have him. She reached over and squeezed his arm. They weren’t like normal couples, not like Saj and Langley for example who kept no secrets from each other. She and Marcus had more than a normal quota of secrets and an unspoken agreement that it wasn’t necessary to talk about them. She frowned. Well that was what she thought. They’d never actually talked about it. She’d just assumed Marcus got it. As she looked through the windscreen, it began to niggle her that perhaps he did want to share. Marcus was completely different from her – more gregarious, much more open. Maybe he didn’t confide in her because she closed it down.

Nikki, focusing on the empty street ahead, said, ‘You know I don’t talk much. You know, dwell on stuff and do all the, well … the baring my soul and all that.’

Nikki swallowed hard as Marcus turned to face her. Thank God for the shadows. Last thing she needed was to get this off her chest with him looking at her.

Marcus prompted her. ‘And?’

‘Well, like. I just want you to know that you can. If you want, that is. You can tell me anything. I’ll listen.’

Amusement running through his voice, Nikki could imagine Marcus’s smile, as he replied. ‘This about last year, Nik? Cause if it is, we’re all good. You know that.’ And he threaded his fingers through hers.

It wasn’t just about last year though; it was about everything. Her childhood, his childhood. Her dad, his parents. She bit her lip, realizing she knew nothing about Marcus’s folks. She cleared her throat. ‘Erm, you know …’ She hesitated, unused to this sort of conversation, but determined to spit her recent thoughts out. ‘We don’t talk about other stuff either.’ She waved her hand in the air as if that explained the sort of stuff she was referring to.

‘Eh?’ In the light cast by the streetlights, Marcus’s frown was visible. ‘What other stuff?’

Moving her body till she was leaning against the door, so she could see him better, Nikki tried again. ‘Like stuff we’ve done … you know before. Like the boxes I keep in the bedroom about my dad.’ She risked a glance at him and tried to keep all inflection from her tone as she added, ‘Or your family.’

Marcus’s pursed his lips and Nikki not sure what that implied wafted her hand in the air. ‘Well, I just want you to know, we can talk about it. If you like, that is … just saying we can … you know … share stuff if you like.’

The frown cleared off Marcus’s brow and a small smile played across his lips. The sort that told Nikki he was still amused by her attempts to delve deep into her inner psyche and she had an urge to prod his arm. It had taken her a lot to work up to this and here he was amused at her, but before she had the chance he spoke.

‘I know enough about your dad, Nik. I get why you keep an eye on where he is at all times. That’s how you make sure you’re protecting your family. Me? I’m a foster kid. No desire to rehash all of that.’ He smiled. ‘You know, Nik, sharing stuff from the past may well be overrated don’t you think? If it feels right, we can talk about it, but it doesn’t need to be like some therapy session. Let’s just be us. We’re good being us.’

Nikki could have kissed him. Why had it taken her so long to realize that Marcus got her … warts and all.

‘Come on. It’s freezing here. Let’s get you fed and watered.’

Nikki got out of the car, yawned, and after glancing towards her sister’s house, looked across the car roof at Marcus. ‘You noticed him too? Yousaf?’

Marcus’s shrugged his lips tight. ‘He’d have been less noticeable if he’d driven a quad bike down the street. Tosser, what did he look like in that bloody parka?’

Nikki grinned. Sometimes it was good to be part of a team. ‘You thought I’d storm over there and cause a scene?’

‘Well, I thought the temptation to tie his balls round his neck and strangle him might prove too much for you to resist, that’s all.’ Marcus walked round the car and slipped his arm through hers. ‘We could still do it if you like? How would the lying piece of shit explain that to his wife?’

Nikki laughed, the sound feeling good as it left her chest. Today had been crap, but here she was able to laugh and that was good. She was getting there. ‘Haqib’s dating Glass’s sister.’

Marcus stopped and turned to look at her. ‘So that’s where the little shit’s been sneaking off to these past few nights. He’s going to end up mince, Nik.’

It felt good to share so she filled him in on what had happened. She hadn’t quite sorted out her feelings about the Felicity, Fliss, Springer abduction, so she glossed over that with a ‘Can you believe that woman’s called Fliss? Fliss? I’m not lying, you know?’

Marcus threw his head back and laughed, the sound warm and rich, and Nikki’s heart thrummed.

Not sure what had made her broach the subject, Nikki squeezed his hand. Maybe it was Springer’s abduction, maybe it was Haqib’s love life, maybe it was the unknown threat that hovered over Bradford’s streets or maybe it was seeing that her sister was still in a relationship with an idiot who didn’t deserve her. Whatever it was, she just needed to let Marcus know that she was there for him. That although she only gave him snippets of her past, he could tell her anything. They’d been together off and on for twelve years now, but over the past year their relationship had settled into something permanent. Nikki wasn’t good at permanent, but she didn’t want to fuck this up. She didn’t want to lose Marcus, because she couldn’t share … she needed him to know she was there for him. That she was all in.

‘Nah, not just about that. Just stuff. I … you know … like … I care about you.’

Marcus. Leaned over and kissed her cold cheek. ‘I love you too, Nikki Parekh.’

How lucky was she to have a man who understood her so completely? She turned until their lips met and kissed him back. Funny she no longer felt hungry. ‘I’ll trade your Sunday roast for breakfast in bed tomorrow if we can go straight upstairs now.’

Marcus didn’t need asking twice.