Chapters (50)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- About the Author
- Praise
- Dedication
- Book One
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- 1948
- Chapter Five
- 23 December 1989
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Christmas 1948
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- New Year’s Eve
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- 2 January
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- 1953
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Book Two
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- 4 March 1990
- An exciting preview of Martina Cole’s powerful new novel, REVENGE
- Prologue
Elaine felt the grin slip from her face. Her head was still pounding. She sipped her tea.
Imagine old George getting a phone call from a friend. Wonders would never cease.
Patrick Kelly was in his main offices in Barking. Normally on New Year’s Day he would be at home with Mandy. Mrs Manners would cook a large early dinner and they would sit and chat about the coming year. Now all he had to look forward to was burying her. And in a funny sort of way he was looking forward to that. At least then he would know that she was not lying on ice in a bloody mortuary. He lit himself a cigarette with his gold lighter. He grasped it tightly in his hand. On the front of it was the inscription: To Dad, Love Mandy - xxxx. It was all he had of her now.
A sharp knock at the door brought him back to earth.
‘Come in.’
Two large men entered. They were brothers, Marcus and David Tully. There was only ten months between them and they looked like twins. Both had skinhead haircuts and both wore identical grey tracksuits that hugged their large beer bellies. Both wore large chunky gold jewellery. Marcus, the elder, was the first to speak.
‘So where to, guv?’
‘I want you two to make your way up North, to Huddersfield. There’s a brand new Jag and a few bits of plant up there that need to be repossessed as quickly as possible. Take shooters with you, I think you’ll need them. The bloke don’t want to give them back, that’s how come we got involved. There’s good bunce for you both as soon as the stuff’s delivered back here. OK?’
The two men nodded.
‘You’ll need to take a couple of drivers with you. Take young Sonny and Declan, they’re pretty good, and that new bloke . . . What’s his name? Dodson. Here’s the address, and I’ll see you sometime tomorrow with the stuff.’
‘What’s the plant then?’
‘Two large earthmovers. The details are outside on the duty rosta. Select numbering, the works. The Jag has got private plates on it.’
‘Okey doke, guv. See yer tomorrer then.’
‘Try not to use the guns this time. Just frighten the bloke.’
‘We’ll only use them to wound, guv. We know what we’re doing.’
‘Be careful, that’s all I ask. Now get on your way.’
The two men left the office. Patrick shook his head. They were two of the biggest lunatics he had ever met, and he had met a few in his time. Still, they got the difficult jobs done and that was the main thing.
He pressed the button on his intercom.
‘Bring me in a cuppa, Debbie, will you?’
‘All right, Mr Kelly.’
He carried on working until Debbie brought him in a cup of tea. She smiled at him, placing the cup on his desk in such a way that he got a glimpse of a fairly considerable pair of breasts.