He wasn’t laughing when the gun was pushed into the back of his head and he was told to shut his fucking trap and drive. He could not believe the audacity of these fucking people. Then he realised the accent had been a London one, not Spanish, and his heart sank down to his boots. He had thought it was a kidnapping, and now he had a feeling he would have been better off with that scenario. For the first time in many years he felt a stab of fear, but he wasn’t a pushover and this pair of fuckers would know that before the night was over. If he was going down, he wasn’t doing it without a fight.

He glanced in the mirror and saw the large, dark man in the back was smiling at him slightly. He was amazed at how young the lad was, but he was a lump, and no mistake. Christopher drove where he was told. Outside of town he was ordered to pull over and he did. Then he felt a blow to his head and he was out like a light.

Chapter Forty

Lesley Scott and Ivy Conway were like a pair of harpies and Sharon was fed up with the both of them. They were united today on finding out where Lenny was and, as Sharon didn’t know, she wasn’t in a position to enlighten them. Not that she would have told them had she known anyway, and they were both old enough and ugly enough to understand that.

‘Look, you two. For the umpteenth time, I. Don’t. Know. Where. Lenny. Is.’ She sighed heavily. ‘What bit of “I don’t know” don’t you get?’

Lesley was annoyed at Sharon’s obvious sarcasm and she wondered at how she could ever have thought this girl would be a good influence on her son. It seemed she was the opposite, letting him run amok and do what he liked. Lesley was frightened for him; she knew he had made a name for himself and, even if her husband thought that was the best thing that could happen to him, she didn’t. She knew that when people made it to the top of their game, there were ten more people waiting in the wings to take their place. It was the law of the pavement.

‘So, if something were to happen to the baby, God forbid, you can’t get in touch with him. Is that what you are telling me?’

Sharon closed her eyes in distress and nodded. She didn’t tell her she would get in touch with Jack Johnson – this mad old cow was liable to turn up there and read him the Riot Act. Lenny would love that. Jack Johnson wouldn’t be too pleased either, she would imagine.