Cold Revenge (Willis/Carter #6)(20)

Douglas went in for a shower before going to lie on his bed. He didn’t need to see Ash to know he would be in crisis. He would be staring at his wrists, red and swollen from the fresh tattoo, and he would understand that he had turned a corner, crossed a line. Douglas would comfort him later, tell him all the plans he had for him. This had been a massive step up for Ash.

He heard Nicola’s laughter. She knew the task of keeping the group together afterwards was down to her. Douglas had done his part, now this was hers and she told them they all had to wait for their tattoos. No one could leave. The old disciples had to have new links added, the new ones, Cathy, Ash and Yvonne, had to have them from scratch. The tattoos took time and Nicola would stagger them throughout the day. If anyone felt sick she would nurse them, or bathe with them or they could cuddle with her on the sofa, but they could not leave until the tattoos were done.

Nicola came out of the kitchen with cakes and fresh coffee and looked around to make sure her brood were all present, but one was missing. She went out onto the patio and looked across to Ash’s van. She knew Elle was inside sleeping where she’d left her after she’d tidied the van and washed up. She watched for a few minutes.

‘Where’s Ash?’ she asked Gavin, who was sitting outside in the weak morning sun, looking pale and tired as he rocked in the sun lounger. Yvonne had come out to rest on the other lounger. They had been cleaning up together; they both had hangovers from hell. Yvonne had come out of Stephen’s bedroom that morning and walked into a hellish scene and she’d been trying to cope with it ever since. Gavin had never suffered from sensitivity. He had an indifference to all human life that Douglas found refreshing. He had no problem with getting his hands dirty; he’d been on many a journey with Douglas. He’d been as innocent as Ash once.

Yvonne was keeping her eyes shut, hoping to wake up and find out that it had all been a horrible dream. They had told her she was partly responsible for Tony’s death, she didn’t remember, they said, she’d been off her head, but all of them had seen what happened. Nicola told her she would get Douglas to drive her home when he got up, but for now she gave her a blanket and a cake and she left Gavin to look after her. Nicola gave him a prod with her knee on the chair and he stirred. She put a coffee down beside him, gave him a cake in his hand. Then Nicola went back into the kitchen and turned off the gas ring. She’d accidentally placed a baking tray on top, it was red hot, she was going to have to stay focused. She was the one holding everyone together. She was angry with Ash. As soon as Douglas got up she would tell him Ash had disobeyed.

Inside the sitting room Stephen was up and being his usual brash self. He rented a room at the bungalow and he’d been there for six months, since his parents kicked him out for doing nothing but drugs after finishing university. Stephen was a posh boy, prompting the others to mimic his accent. With his floppy hair, he seemed out of place, as if he’d naively stumbled into a nest of adders and laid down in it enjoying the warmth there. Douglas loved to bounce off him intellectually and was learning all the time from Stephen. He was absorbing him, mimicking his mannerisms, observing his responses. Stephen was trying to entertain Cathy.

Millie was getting smashed; she’d opened a bottle of vodka and was handing it around for shots. She fed it from her mouth into Stephen’s to see if Gavin was watching, but he wasn’t . . .

‘I’m going in to wake Jimmy up,’ she said as she danced and laughed her way into the kitchen, ‘see if he wants some company in bed.’

Nicola laughed but her eyes were bright with anger as the two women stood facing one another. Millie was pushing her luck.

‘Give me a hand first, just move that tray for me a minute.’ She nodded towards the baking tray on the cooker.

Millie’s scream was delayed. It took two seconds for her brain to register her fingers were burning before she dropped it onto the floor.

‘Quickly, quickly,’ said Nicola, turning on the tap and pulling Millie’s arm to get her hand under the running water, only to see it pour out of the hot tap and the boiling water split the skin and peel it back from Millie’s palm and fingers.

‘Oh, my God, I am so sorry,’ Nicola said. ‘I had no idea that it was the hot tap.’

‘It’s okay.’ Millie backed away, trying to laugh, trying not to look at Nicola.

Nicola dressed her hand and wrapped it in white bandages and Millie settled down in the armchair and drank her vodka in silence.

After a few hours Douglas got up and came out to hold council. He would take each of his disciples aside and tell them how to live their lives, he’d tell them how each of them had a touch of greatness.





Chapter 14


‘Mr Stephens?’ Don Stephens still ran the same farm machinery repair business he’d had for the last thirty years. ‘We are here to offer our condolences,’ said Carter. Carter and Willis had driven out to Chesham to talk to Millie’s father. As well as having an area stacked with machines waiting for attention, the place was half scrapyard and machine graveyard.

‘I heard,’ he said, leaning over the engine in a tractor. ‘I’ve already had them offered, thanks. A phone call was sufficient.’

Don Stephens was wearing blue oil-smeared overalls. He was a man-mountain. He stood six foot six and was almost as broad with a silver beard and a peaked cap on his head. He looked as if he could have stepped off the set of a thriller set in the Rockies.