‘You worked for Nathan for a while, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, I’d just come out after doing a few years for armed robbery and went back to work for Tommy. It was a few months before he was killed. After Nathan took over the firm I just kept doing what I was told to. Until I got lifted for bloody drug supply anyway.’ He shook his head. ‘Managed to get to the grand old age of thirty-eight before setting foot inside a nick and then got two long stretches almost back to back.’
Grace swallowed the last remnants of her tea, needing to regain her composure before continuing the conversation. Any mention of Tommy McNulty’s murder always brought her out in a cold sweat. The memories of that day were burned into her brain as though someone had branded them there with a hot poker. When she was sure she could speak without a tremor in her voice, she asked him. ‘You’ve never thought of striking out on your own then? You must have a lot of contacts in the business?’
‘Nah.’ Patrick shook his head and chuckled. ‘I’m just the hired muscle, me. Never had the brains, or the inclination to be the boss. That’s for people like Nathan, who are born for it, or people like you who’ve got the brains. You know how people work. You could go far in my world, Grace. You get that from your dad.’
‘Me?’ Grace laughed. Surely he was joking. ‘That’s the daftest thing I’ve ever heard, Pat.’
‘Not daft at all. You’ve got all that money sitting there doing nothing. And everyone likes you, they respect you. And the way you’ve handled Nathan is brilliant. I was ready to have my lad go in there all guns blazing, but your idea about the fake buyer for the pub was genius.’
Placing her empty mug onto the coffee table, Grace considered what Patrick had said. She thought about the million pounds she had stashed away in bank accounts in various company names, tied up in numerous business ventures. Money she’d stolen from Nathan before he was locked up. Money, he believed the police had nicked from him, when it had been his quiet, unassuming wife who’d taken it from right under his nose. He’d never suspected a thing. Maybe Patrick was right.
‘I wouldn’t say it was genius, Pat. I just know how Nathan thinks, that’s all. He needs to believe he’s making the decision to leave me alone. It couldn’t have worked out better, him being on a wing with your Michael. Being told I’m about to do a moonlight flit with his son, is the surest way to get Nathan to leave me in peace.’
Grace smiled. Who was she kidding? It was a stroke of genius. When Patrick had told her that his son, Michael, was on the same wing as Nathan in Walton, she realized it was the perfect opportunity to beat her soon-to-be ex-husband at his own game. Suddenly, she had someone on the inside who could feed Nathan false information. Information that she wanted him to know.
She had thought about selling the pub soon after Nathan went to prison, but a lot of soul-searching had made her decide against it. The Rose and Crown was her parent’s legacy, and more importantly, it was her sanctuary. But it had given her an idea. As much as Nathan was a monster, he was also a scared little boy. He was terrified of losing the only people he’d ever loved – her and Jake. If Nathan believed she was about to sell her pub, and move abroad, he’d panic. Terrified that she would take their son and never return, he’d back off. It played on every single one of his insecurities – his fear of being abandoned by the only people he loved. The old Grace might have said it was cruel, but it was certainly effective.
‘You must have thought about doing a runner though?’ Patrick said, snapping Grace from her train of thought.
‘Yeah, of course. Many times, But, why should I? This is my pub. My home. I’ve lived here for my whole life. It’s the only place I’ve ever really belonged. The only thing in my life that has ever been entirely mine. My dad entrusted it to me. And these people are my friends. I’ve made this place a success again, all on my own. Jake is happy and settled here. Why should I give that all up for my scumbag ex-husband?’
Patrick laughed. ‘Well you shouldn’t. And like I said, you’re a strong woman, Grace. You should really think about what you want to do with your life.’
Grace picked the empty mugs from the coffee table. ‘Another one?’ she asked.
He looked at his watch. It was just after midnight. ‘Yeah, go on. Why not?’
Patrick walked into the kitchen as Grace was boiling the kettle. ‘I meant to thank you for your help with my other situation, Grace,’ he said sheepishly.
‘Not a problem, Pat. You and Michael have really helped me out with Nathan. I’m happy to reciprocate.’
When two heavy-set cockneys, with more scars than teeth, had come looking for Patrick in the Rose and Crown the previous week, Grace had known he was in some serious trouble. She’d denied all knowledge of him, but they’d told her to pass on a message in any case. If they didn’t get the hundred grand he owed by the end of the week, he’d be taking a dip in the Mersey with some lead in his head and his pockets.
A poor choice of business associate had left Patrick on the wrong side of a dangerous moneylender in the East End. A twenty-five grand debt had quadrupled in the eight weeks since he’d left London. Grace had offered him the money and he’d gratefully accepted. His cockney counterparts had left Liverpool a lot happier and richer than when they’d arrived.
‘I’ll pay you back with interest, of course,’ Patrick said.
‘I know you will.’
‘And I’m forever in your debt, Grace. I’d hate to think what would have happened if I hadn’t been able to get that money together. Anything you ever need, just call me.’
‘Thanks, Pat,’ she said, hopeful she would never need anything from him but his companionship.
As she continued making the tea she thought about Patrick’s comments earlier. Imagine her the boss of some criminal empire? Dressing in power suits and barking orders at her minions. A small laugh escaped her lips as she contemplated the absurdity of the notion. But what if? She’d have her own, personal army at her disposal. Nathan would never be able to get to her again. She’d be untouchable. It was certainly something worth fantasizing about at least.
Glancing at the entrance to the pub, Grace checked her watch. It was a little after nine, and Patrick was usually always there by eight on a Monday. She had grown used to his presence in the bar most nights, but particularly on Mondays when she finished early and they would share a takeaway and a bottle of wine after hours. She enjoyed talking to him. He could regale her for hours with his tales.
Grace was beginning to feel anxious. What if something had happened to him? It reminded her of all the nights she’d sat waiting for Nathan to come home, worrying about what he was up to. At least that was until she could no longer bear the sight of him. Why did she invest so much of her time in men who were clearly up to no good?
Just as she was contemplating phoning Patrick’s mobile, he came bounding through the double doors. Despite her annoyance at him for making her worry, she felt herself instantly relax. The tension in her shoulders and chest slipping away as he made his way over.
‘Grace,’ he said excitedly. ‘I’ve got a very interesting business opportunity for you.’
‘Oh?’
‘Can’t talk in here. But I’ll tell you all about it. Shall I nip out and get us an Indian?’
‘Yeah, okay.’ She nodded. Intrigued and bemused. What possible business proposition could he have that might involve her?
Once the pub was locked up and Grace had checked on Jake, she and Patrick sat down with their