The Promise Read online

  ‘I was hoping that I might bump into you,’ Josie said, as she rooted around in her handbag for her mobile phone and then pretended to send a text message, despite the fact that her phone had run out of credit almost two days before. She was buying time, making out the encounter was a casual one; she didn’t really have an ulterior motive as she gauged what kind of mood Billy was in.

  ‘Is that so?’ Billy feigned surprise.

  She wanted something; it was written all over her greedy, desperate-looking face. And he knew exactly what it was that she wanted from him.

  ‘And how can I help you?’

  Billy rubbed his chin, staring at Josie with amusement.

  Josie Parker had been a feisty little bird in her heyday, with her petite figure, and her long mane of white-blonde hair. She’d had a gob on her that was capable of making sailors blush, but somehow, because she’d been so stunning, she’d been able to pull it off.

  Now, though, it just made her look cheap and nasty. It was a shame, really, what life could do to a person. How it could wear you down. Still, Josie was the one that chose this life. Working the streets, the drugs, the drink. The woman was a train wreck waiting to happen, but what did he care? If it lined his pockets, then, fuck it, who was he to quibble?

  ‘You couldn’t sort me out a wrap on tick, could you? Just until tomorrow. I’ve got a job lined up later… I’m good for it.’

  Billy screwed his mouth up as if debating his answer. He’d known all along that she would come back for more. Once a smackhead, always a smackhead. It was people like Josie that kept Billy Stackhouse well in pocket. Just one hit, she’d said, when she’d scored from him the other day. Just something to keep the edge off. But here she was again, weak, already consumed by the power heroin had over her. She was a slave to it, just like they all were. That was exactly what Billy had been counting on. Supply and demand, that was what it was about in this business.

  People like Josie kept his little empire ticking along nicely.

  No matter how long they’d been clean; no matter how hard they’d resisted the pull of the drug, the addiction was always there, bubbling away underneath the surface, ready to rear its ugly head at the person’s lowest ebb.

  ‘I know I still owe you some money, Billy, and I’ll get it for you. You know I’m good for it,’ Josie said; suddenly, all her dignity gone as she openly begged Billy to sort her out.

  He scanned the street, cautiously, to make sure that no one was watching them.

  ‘No one’ being Delray Anderton, Josie’s pimp. If Delray caught Billy supplying any of his girls again, Billy knew that he would be in deep shit. It wasn’t worth the aggro, he figured, but then, Josie wasn’t really one of Delray’s main girls anymore. Word on the street was Delray had moved on to much bigger and more lucrative things.

  ‘Please, Billy,’ Josie said, as she threw the cigarette down on the floor, stamping it out with the toe of her shoe. ‘I’ll have the money for you tomorrow, and in the meantime, I’m sure we can work something out.’

  Her eyes flickered to the dark alleyway that ran the length of the side of the pub.

  She didn’t need to say anything else; Billy knew exactly what the woman was offering him.

  He shook his head, pretending to be taken aback by her offer.

  ‘I dunno, Jos,’ he said, well aware how to play the game.

  He could see the pure want in Josie’s eyes. The desperation that lingered there. The poor bitch was probably still trying to convince herself that she wasn’t back under the trance of the drug, that she was still in the early stages of her love affair with it, that it was all under control – but Billy could see that she was way past that stage now.

  Still buzzing from tonight’s successful earn, it would be a shame to call it a night so early and go home on his tod when Josie Parker seemed so eager to put a smile on his face.

  ‘One wrap.’

  He started making his way up the alleyway; Josie eagerly following behind as if it was him doing her the favour.

  The woman might be a munter, but it was nothing closing his eyes and thinking of England wouldn’t solve.

  As the saying went, you don’t stare at the mantel while you’re poking the fire.

  Billy grinned once more as he relished the perks of his job.

  ‘Just this once mind, Josie; don’t let it become a habit. So you better make this worth my while.’

  ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Jos, look at the state of you!’ Mandy stared down at her friend in disbelief. The woman had only been out of her sight for twenty minutes. How the hell she’d got herself into this state Mandy couldn’t quite fathom.

  Josie was sitting on the pavement, slumped against the pub garden wall. Her legs sprawled out in front of her; her head lolling to one side.

  ‘You’re wasted?’ Mandy exclaimed, shaking her head. Josie’d had pretty much the same amount of wine as she’d had. It couldn’t be just the drink. She’d seen this all before. Suspicious, she scanned the length of the alleyway, remembering that Billy Stackhouse had been hanging around earlier.

  ‘What the fuck have you done, Jos? Have you taken something?’ she said, unable to hide the disappointment in her tone. She’d seen this all before. She knew the signs. Mandy had witnessed every heartbreaking gruelling minute of it first-hand. Josie lying and stealing, brought down lower than low as she had tried to get her hands on the gear in any way possible. Then there was the cold turkey. The sweats, the pain. The agony Josie had endured until she’d finally moved on to methadone.

  It had taken Josie months to get completely clean, and she was two months on: the longest amount of time she’d been off the gear since she’d had Marnie.

  Now she was back where she started. Back on her knees in the gutter once more.

  Hearing her friend’s voice, Josie lifted up her head, forcing her eyes open.

  She was back in the land of the living. Back down to earth with a crash, after being so enthralled in the euphoric rush of the brown she’d smoked just ten minutes earlier. It pained her how the oblivion she craved never lasted long enough. The heaviness of her limbs, the warmth that had wrapped itself so tightly around her body, making her feel invincible, always seemed to leave just as quickly as it arrived. That bastard Billy had made her work for it, but he’d been right. It had been so worth it.

  There was nothing on this earth that compared.

  ‘I haven’t taken anything,’ she lied. She was glad that Billy Stackhouse had got what he wanted from her and was now nowhere to be seen. At least there was a small chance she could still blag her way out of this. The last thing she needed was Mandy breathing down her neck and lecturing her.

  Josie tried to sound convincing but she didn’t look it. Staring at Mandy, her pupils gave her away. Minuscule like pinpoints; the evidence was there for all to see. Still, she continued with the charade regardless, determined not to be caught out.

  ‘It’s that cheap wine that Davey sells. That stuff is lethal. It’s like rocket fuel. It probably doesn’t help that I haven’t eaten anything today either. I just felt a bit queasy so I came out here for some air.’ Placing her hand down on the cold concrete floor she tried to stand, wobbly on her feet, using the wall behind her as leverage,

  ‘Air?’ Mandy rolled her eyes. She didn’t know who Josie thought she was kidding, but she sure as hell wasn’t falling for the spiel.

  ‘What the hell am I supposed to do with you now, huh? Those two fellas are well keen to come back. I promised them a good time; yet, here you are barely able to stand up. You look about as much use right now as a bacon sarnie in a fucking mosque.’ Mandy gripped Josie by her arms and dragged the unsteady woman up onto her feet.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Josie said shrugging her friend from her.

  Mandy glanced down the road to where Dean and Jason were standing, eagerly awaiting her and Josie’s return. A taxi pulled up next to them.

  Mandy bit her lip, unsure if the blokes going back with them was such a good idea
now.

  She needed the money, they both did, but with the state Josie had somehow managed to get herself into, the chances of that were becoming slimmer to none.

  ‘Shall I cancel them? Tell them something’s come up?’ Mandy said, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice. ‘Christ, Josie, I’ve spent the past twenty minutes working my charm on those two; it was all for nothing. I could have really done with the cash, Jos.’

  ‘Don’t cancel,’ Josie said, thinking about the money.

  Mandy was right. Work was so thin on the ground lately there was no way they could turn down what little came their way. She was just going to have to pull herself together.

  ‘I’ll be all right in a few minutes, honest. Come on.’ Linking Mandy’s arm, Josie walked down towards the waiting taxi, determined to see the job through. Not only because she didn’t want to let her mate down but also because she knew she’d been lucky catching Billy in such a generous mood tonight. But he wouldn’t be so accommodating next time she asked for a handout. Billy wouldn’t give her anything else on tick until she paid up what she owed. That was the way he worked, especially now that he had her right where he wanted her.

  Despite Josie’s best efforts, the heroin had won, again. Like the monster it was, it had snuck up on her, catching her unawares before locking its grip and pulling her back in once more.

  She was going to need all the money she could get from now on.

  Chapter Six

  Pulling up in the Mercedes just outside the main doors of Selfridges on Oxford Street, Lenny Oldham gestured to Javine Turner to get her arse in gear.

  ‘Get in,’ he shouted, aware that he’d stopped on a double yellow line. The road behind him was heaving, gridlocked with traffic, and the last thing he needed today was a parking ticket from some jobsworth of a traffic warden.

  Javine was doing his head in.

  Lenny had driven the demanding little cow halfway across London. Westfield, Harrods, now Selfridges. Surely there was only so much shopping a woman could do?

  ‘Any chance of a hand? I can’t carry all this lot on my own.’

  Javine pouted, unprepared to carry the bags any further, even if it was just a few feet. Delray paid Lenny to be his right-hand man. To chauffeur him around and, by extension, to chauffeur Javine around too. He was staff. The least he could do was help her out.

  Gritting his teeth, Lenny jumped out of the motor, well and truly narked now. He’d had enough of this prissy little tart barking orders at him. He worked for Delray, not Javine. Though right at this particular moment in time it wouldn’t be in his interests to voice that. For now, he was just going to have to suck it up and try and bite his tongue.

  He hoped that Delray knew what he was doing.

  Lenny had seen all sorts of Delray’s girls over the years; they were all the same. Money-grabbing whores. But Javine Turner was a whole other level of demanding.

  Knowing Delray, he would get bored of the girl sooner or later. He always did.

  But so far, this one had stuck it out longer than Lenny had anticipated, though that was only down to the fact that the conniving little bitch was busy playing games, stringing Delray along. The girl was making out she was some kind of born-again virgin, though who she thought she was kidding, Lenny had no idea.

  ‘Get in!’ Lenny said as he grabbed the pile of bags and shoved them inside the boot. Then he turned back to face Javine, who was now standing expectantly beside the passenger door.

  ‘Are you fucking having a laugh?’ Lenny shook his head in wonderment as he realised Javine was waiting for him to open the door for her.

  This tart really was taking the piss. Lenny’s temper finally got the better of him, but the only thing that stopped him was hearing the bus that had pulled in behind the car beeping its horn. Further up the road, a traffic warden was making his way swiftly towards them.

  ‘Fuck sake,’ Lenny muttered. Grabbing the door handle, he ushered Javine into the car before slamming the door behind her and running back around to the driver’s side. He pulled away in a rage.

  ‘I take it you’re done for the day?’ Lenny glared at Javine through the rear-view mirror.

  Javine wrinkled her nose up.

  ‘Actually, I’m a bit hungry. Can you take a right onto Wardour Street? I saw a bakery on our way up here earlier doing little cupcakes. I might get some for Delray.’ Javine was oblivious to the glare that Lenny was shooting her. ‘I’m bloody starving too. Shopping doesn’t half take it out of you.’

  Staring down at her phone, Javine was miffed to see that Ashleen still hadn’t answered her calls or text messages. She’d called the girl at least a dozen times a day. All she wanted was to check on Dolce and Gabbana, her two little fur babies, but Javine hadn’t heard from the girl since the night she’d met Delray at the club, three weeks ago.

  She grinned to herself.

  It had all been a bit of a whirlwind, how things had worked out Delray seemed besotted with her. He must be: he’d done nothing but ply her with presents and money.

  Like today, for example, sending her off on a shopping trip to buy whatever she liked. No expense spared.

  Javine had hit the jackpot.

  She’d known it the second she’d laid eyes on the man. Never one to pass up a golden opportunity, Javine had grabbed it with both hands.

  She’d gone back to Delray’s apartment on the very first night, and had yet to leave.

  She had standards, though. She hadn’t let him have his wicked way with her yet. She was making him wait.

  Tonight, though, that was all about to change. Javine knew it was time to up the stakes.

  She was going to give Delray the best night of his life. Once she was through with him, the man wouldn’t want to live without her.

  Then she’d bring the conversation of her dogs up again.

  That had been the only downside to this little arrangement. Delray had point-blank refused to let Javine bring her dogs to the apartment, and knowing Ashleen, the girl would be doing her nut being stuck at home with them.

  That’s why Javine was surprised Ashleen hadn’t picked the phone up to her yet. She thought the girl would be screwing.

  ‘Ah! You’ve just driven past it. Pull over here.’ Looking up from her phone, Javine screeched at Lenny, her voice high-pitched with indignation that he couldn’t just do one simple thing. ‘Pull over.’

  Lenny had a face on him like thunder; his dislike for her obvious by the way he was staring right through her. Quite frankly, Javine didn’t care.

  This was another conversation that they’d need to have once she was a little more established with Delray. She’d be having words with him about old Lenny here.

  ‘I’ll have to walk,’ Javine tutted, realising the shop was now a good hundred yards up the road and, in her high heels, it wasn’t going to bode well. Her feet were already killing her from the mileage she’d done around the stores today.

  ‘You’ll have to wait here for me.’ Javine pursed her lips, irritated.

  Lenny didn’t respond.

  Instead, he pulled into the side road and switched the engine off, keeping his anger contained until Javine got out of the car and stomped up the road in a huff.

  Once she’d gone, Lenny lost it, smashing his fists into the steering wheel. Still, hopefully he wouldn’t have to put up with the stupid cow for that much longer. Delray always got bored with his new toys sooner or later, and this time, Lenny was actually waiting with bated breath.

  Javine was doing his nut in.

  The sooner the girl got a reality check the better.

  Chapter Seven

  Jason Hunter was hammered.

  He must be. How else had he managed to let his best mate, Dean, talk him into coming back to this shithole?

  The little that he’d seen so far of this dingy flat was disgusting and, as for the smell, the place stank. Old and musty, just like the furniture that was dotted around the room. Jason followed the trail of half-finished mugs o
f coffee that had been left abandoned on the carpet alongside the overflowing ashtrays strewn with hundreds of stale dog-ends.

  This place was a fucking mess, as was the old slapper currently straddling his lap and fiddling awkwardly with his fly.

  ‘How do you want me?’ Trying her hardest now to sound alluring, Josie Parker sounded as bored as Jason.

  How did he want her? He just wanted this bird to get the fuck off him, that’s how he wanted her ‒ and preferably as far away from him as possible.

  He was so pissed that he could barely talk, let alone get his todger up, but the state of the woman straddling him wasn’t helping the situation one bit.

  This was all Dean’s fault. So much for being his best mate.

  The bloke had set him up.

  Knowing Dean, he’d probably had this all planned from the very start of the evening.

  Dean had been the one to persuade him to go out for a few jars down the Old Bell in the first place; Jason hadn’t even been that bothered, if he was honest. Dean though, never one to give in without a fight, had insisted, saying that they needed to celebrate the birth of Jason’s newborn son.

  ‘Wet the baby’s head,’ he’d said.

  Only now it seemed the baby’s head wasn’t the only thing Dean wanted to get wet tonight.

  Jason had no recollections of exactly how or when they seemed to have managed to pick up these two old slappers, but now the dawning reality of what he was about to do was kicking in.

  What the fuck was he thinking?

  ‘Hey, lover-boy! Wakey-wakey. I said, how do you want me?’ Watching Jason as he stared into space, Josie was trying to appear sexy; only, her efforts seemed to have the opposite effect on the bloke.

  Jason winced.

  The woman was coarse; her husky voice making her sound like she smoked about eighty fags a day, which, judging by her potently stale breath, was probably the case.