‘Mike told me about this Alastair bloke. Do the girls know he’s dead?’ Terrence suddenly lowered his voice.
‘No, but from what I can gather, they weren’t that close to him. In fact, they weren’t close to their muvver either. Kendall’s dad, this Lance bloke, is looking out for them now,’ said Liam, who had remained quiet up until this point.
‘Fucking hell. There’s a lot of coincidences,’ said Terrence, with a deep frown.
‘No, not really. The only fluke was Ricky dating Kendall. The blokes who attacked Kendall were after Ricky because he’s Mike’s son, but they killed Kendall. The sick twist is that not only did that bastard Alastair play a hand in killing his own stepdaughter but he fucking raped her first,’ said Liam.
‘The dirty fucker! Right, I’d better show you the gun collection.’
Terrence then walked over to the cabinet and unlocked it. As the door was opened, Arty grinned. ‘Cor, fucking tasty, mate.’
Ricky appeared in the doorway and made his way over to see what they were looking at. ‘I told the girls to check out the upstairs. Ya don’t mind, Uncle Skid, do ya?’
‘No, lad, not in the least. Right, now you’re all here, those three guns there are loaded. I’m supposed to have them separate from the ammo, but I didn’t see the point. Anyway, don’t get drinking and start playing silly buggers, ’cos I don’t wanna have to explain how the fuck any of ya got shot.’
Arty patted his shoulder. ‘Terrence, in case you ain’t noticed, we’re all grown men now.’
Terrence raised his brow. ‘Yeah, is that right? Well, you’re still kiddies to me. Okay, in that drawer, there are two small handguns for the girls. Now, look on those walls. See those red buttons? If ya press them, make sure no one is near the windows or the doors, ’cos you may well lose a foot. The minute you press any of the panic buttons, those metal shutters come down, and trust me, they’re fucking heavy and they hit the floor like shit off a shovel.’
As confident and self-assured as Arty was, he suddenly felt uncomfortable. ‘Terrence, tell me, mate. How serious is this business back home? We were given a quick briefing at the airport, but, I mean all this.’ He pointed to the gun cabinet. ‘What’s going on?’
Terrence leaned against the bar. ‘Sit down, lads. Ya wanna brandy?’
Liam nodded. ‘Yeah, sounds as though we’re gonna need one.’
As soon as the tumblers were placed in the boys’ hands, Terrence took a deep breath. ‘Okay, there ain’t been many times when Mikey Regan calls me in a right two and eight, so when he does, I pay attention. All you really need to know is that some geezer called Torvic, a dangerous fucker by all accounts, was held captive by Zara Ezra and Mikey, while they tried to get information out of him. Ya know, “the Mikey way”. Anyway—’
‘Hold it, Terrence. What do ya mean by “the Mikey way”?’ interjected Ricky.
Liam put a hand on Ricky’s shoulder. ‘Oh, trust me, buddy, you’ll live and learn, now you’re part of the firm.’
As Ricky turned to face him, Liam winked. ‘Our pops take no shit.’
Ricky thought back to the brief spell he’d spent in prison when he’d been reunited with his father, and how he had put the fear of God into people. ‘Yeah, Liam, I ain’t really surprised.’
Terrence was relieved that the boys’ fathers hadn’t kept them wrapped in cotton wool. Clearly, they were following in the footsteps of their fathers and grandfathers before them. But he didn’t know what they knew and what they didn’t. Although he and Mikey spoke on the phone occasionally, they never spoke about business. That was a no-no in their line of work. Fucking GCHQ and all that listening bollocks was apparently being extended from listening in on known espionage and terror related set-ups to any nefarious activity that was making serious money and denying the government of valuable revenue.
‘Well, this Torvic bloke was set up by Zara and Mike. Torvic’s sons got murdered, and his precious granddaughter was threatened. The deal was that Torvic would lead them to a man called Barak Segal in exchange for Torvic’s granddaughter’s life. Anyway, Zara and Mike had ’em locked up overnight only to find that the bastard and his granddaughter had escaped by the morning. This Torvic geezer is on the loose, and, apparently, from what Mikey told me, he’s one sick fucker who will come for one or each of you, out of revenge.’
‘Why did they kill the man’s sons?’
Arty tutted. ‘For fuck’s sake, Ricky, they would’ve had their reasons, wouldn’t they?’
‘I know that, but I wanna know why.’
Terrence poured them all another drink. ‘Because, Ricky, and Liam has just confirmed this, one of his sons was responsible for your beating … and another thing,’ he pointed his finger upwards to where the girls were, ‘he was supposedly their father … a bloke called Alastair. It’s all a bit of a mess. Torvic was importing a drug called Flakka into the whole of South-East London and had gangs of druggies doing his dirty work. But the bastard was killing and hurting innocent people. His son, Alastair, also killed his own stepdaughter by forcing that Flakka shit down her throat before he raped—’
‘Kendall?’ interrupted Ricky, horrified by what his uncle was telling them.
Terrence had been gauging the effect his news was having on the lads and particularly on Ricky. ‘Yeah, sorry, son. She was ya girlfriend, weren’t she?’
Ricky looked away, tears forming, and he suddenly felt very light-headed. He took deep breaths, as suggested by his nurse Constance at the hospital, whenever he experienced a flashback where he was subjected to that savage beating in Kendall’s flat. He got up from the bar stool and walked around in circles, processing this news, while Terrence, Arty, and Liam spoke quietly, trying to give Ricky some private time.
Terrence knew this would be difficult for Mikey’s son. In truth, he hadn’t wanted to get involved in all of this mess, but he owed Mikey big time for all the work the big man had given him, and, of course, for the rewards he was now blessed with. He needed to be there for the lad, and he would be.
Five minutes later, Ricky was back, sitting at the bar. His mind made up now, he said, ‘Evil cunts! Ya best show me how to use one of these guns, because if this geezer shows his face, I’ll blow the fucker’s head off!’
Arty and Liam had never seen Ricky get angry. But then, Ricky was a relatively new face, as an adult, anyway.
Ricky had just started school when Jackie, his mother, had taken him from Mike’s home, ostensibly to escape to Spain and to safety, following a war that had just taken place between the Regans and both the Harman and Segal families. Jackie, though, didn’t go to Spain. She used all the money she had siphoned from Mike to buy a house in Cambridgeshire, intending to shack up with Scottie Harman. But her illicit involvement with one of the Harmans was a step too far for Mike. Knowing what Mike would do if he caught her, she scarpered off to Ireland, back to her roots, to live in a caravan. No one knew where Ricky was until fate decreed that both Ricky and Mike would be reunited in HMP Maidstone.
The handsome, cheeky chappie with an innocent smile had transcended into someone far more frightening. Now his look of rage was identical to Mike’s. Even Terrence spotted it.
‘Cor, you’re your father’s son all right. It’s like watching Mikey all over again.’
‘So, are you gonna show me how to fire that thing?’
Arty got up and pulled Ricky away. ‘Listen. They’ll find this Torvic fella, so slow yaself down. Let’s get settled in and then we can have a little target practice, but first, mate, you need to get rid of that anger, ’cos no one learned anything when their mind’s on revenge.’
By the time Terrence had given them the complete rundown and