Blindsided

‘Yeah,’ Holly sighed. After she walked out the evening after the trial, she’d gone to stay with a friend in town. She had been a savvy teen, and it hadn’t taken long to sort out accommodation, to set herself up away from her past. The fact that she’d got good grades seemed to be a sign, and she drifted along, reinventing herself. At nineteen, studying English Literature had seemed like a good idea, but then so did dating Tom, her tutor. ‘I think I thought I’d go into teaching after my degree.’

‘You would’ve hated it,’ Cath told her.

‘How do you know?’

‘Same way I knew we should work together.’ Her best friend grinned. She glanced at the clock, ‘Look, Holly, I know you’re freaked by this whole Jayden thing, hell I am too, but I think you need to be careful. Someone put Jay’s kid in your car for a reason. You need to watch out, okay?’

The fun faded from the room.

Cath started to put the twins into their pushchair, pushing her hair off her face, and straightening to face Holly. ‘People are saying there’s going to be some kind of trouble between the Balintas and the Nicholls now Niko’s out. Something’s going to go down, hon, and we are stuck right in the middle of that lot. Besides, why else would Jayden come home after all these years?’

‘You really think he’s alive?’ Holly still couldn’t quite make the leap from lighting candles at her brother’s memorial, to him returning to Westbourne.

‘Honestly? I was so shocked when you told me I couldn’t even think straight, but now … I think I do, yeah.’

Chapter 10 (#ulink_40d8b3e1-a439-536c-aa71-838ded555687)

Dear Mum,

I’m having a shit day and I wish you were here so bad that I can almost taste it. Sometimes I kneel in front of your wall and screw my eyes tight shut. Dad says if I stay like that and count to one hundred you might reach out to me. If he’s had a bad day he makes us both kneel and times us. We have to sit still for an hour and he gets mad if I move and says I’m ruining it.

I don’t really know what he means. He says he can feel you though. If I’m honest, I can’t feel you at the moment.

We’ve moved around a lot since you died, and of course I don’t remember a lot of the places we’ve been, but we’ve been in this flat for six months now. It’s another different school and they take the piss all the time and say I’m weird because my accent is different to theirs. Whatever. I’m not like Alice Cauldon who says she wants to be a pole dancer and lets the boys look at her pink bra, and I’m not smelly like Ben Alder or stupid like Alex Smith. I’m just me. But they don’t like that, Mum. Sometimes I don’t think Dad likes me either, even though I’ve taught myself to cook and work the washing machine. When he gets hammered, I try and make sure he passes out on the sofa or in his bed.

I look in the mirror and try to figure out why I’m different and why my life is different. But I just see a normal kid with messy hair and a few freckles. A kid who’s got his mum’s black eyes, and his dad’s pointed chin. He’s not fat or thin. He’s not small or tall. He’s just normal on the outside. But they still don’t like me. It’s Kyle Wilson who’s the worst. Today he said I was a loser and a freak because I don’t have a mum. How does he know that? It worried me a bit because part of the plan is that people don’t know much about us, about where we come from or where we are going.

Today when I went back to the shooting range with Dad, I imagined Kyle’s face on the target, with his big white teeth and square face, and I got my highest score ever. Dad was really happy because he says it all counts towards the plan. Every single thing we do is training. When Dad’s not been drinking he can be fun.

But it hurts when people say stuff. Dad says to man up and to be strong or we’ll never be able to make you proud. But it’s hard at the moment and I feel like crying. It hurts inside and I can feel the pain tingling in my fingers. I’m cold too. The flat has mould growing up the walls and the heaters only run if you shove coins in them. If I don’t remember to ask Dad for coins before he starts on the cans then it stays cold.

Don’t worry, Mum, I won’t cry, because boys don’t cry. I know he’s a liar though because I’ve seen him crying for you. I won’t tell him because it might make him crazy and he’s been kind of okay for a few weeks now. Thanks for making him okay for a bit, and if you could keep him away from the beer that would be great.

I love you, Mum x

Chapter 11 (#ulink_adf47aa7-73d8-5df0-9571-a857460cd982)

After she had dropped Milo at school the next day, Holly dealt with the usual housework and washing, ironing her uniform ready for work. It was weird to be doing mundane things when her life seemed to have gone mental. Part of her wanted to rush back down to the hospital and check on Jayden’s son, but his condition hadn’t changed. And what if whoever dumped him in the car was watching the hospital? Were they waiting for her next move? The protective feelings she had tried to push away since she found him huddled in her car were obviously stronger since the revelation that they were related, but fear of the whole situation was underlying her stray maternal instincts, plus she had Milo to look out for.

Cath’s warning rang in her ears, and she almost felt she had to look over her shoulder the whole time in case she was being followed. Gut instinct still told her that her brother was dead, but if Jay had left his son with someone else, and that person had brought him back to Westbourne … what next?

Holly shoved another load of washing into the machine and yanked her thoughts away from the puzzle. At least Milo was loving being back at school, and his whole class seemed to have signed his cast. Tom seemed to be complying with her suggestion of email communication and hadn’t sent any more text messages. Maybe it would all be okay.

Her phone rang as she finally sat slouched with her cup of coffee at the kitchen table, enjoying the weak sunlight that flooded the kitchen. DC Marriot was not an especially welcome caller.

‘Holly? I just wondered if you had seen the news?’

‘No. Sorry, what?’ Her heart was pounding, and she was clutching her cup so hard her knuckles were white.

‘There was a fight at Yorke Prison early this morning, and two prisoners were stabbed to death.’ Her voice was cool as ever, but clearly there was more. ‘The two prisoners who died were Alexi and Roman Balinta.’

‘Fuck me. I mean … How could that even happen?’ Hot coffee splashed over her fingers and she swore again.

‘We’re trying to find out. Are you at home?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I probably should come round if you don’t mind. I have something to show you.’

Oh double shit, this didn’t sound good. Holly made another coffee whilst she waited. She didn’t need more caffeine; her nerves were jangling as it was and she had the beginnings of a thumping headache. Alexi and Roman were dead? Well, she couldn’t pretend she felt sad that someone had killed the murdering bastards, but how could that happen while they were in prison? And both of them together? She thought she could guess what DC Marriot was going to say, and it would be along the ‘why the hell is all this happening now?’ line.

Holly stood watching the street until the car arrived. She tried to figure out how she felt, and what the fuck was going on. She checked her Twitter feed and found a news item on what was described as a double stabbing. The brothers were thought to have become involved in an argument over drugs. Thoughts jarred in her brain, and the rumble and crash of the bins being emptied outside made her jump. Why would someone bring Jay’s son back into the middle of this?

DC Marriot was immaculate in navy pinstripe and a long dark coat. She marched up to the front door, accompanied by a uniformed officer.

The DC got straight down to business. ‘We’re still working on the details, and obviously the prison service are being fully cooperative, but basically Alexi got into an argument with another prisoner as he was coming back to his cell from the library.’ The DC was uptight today, her petite pixie-like face alert, and her eyes bright as she reeled off the facts.

‘The library?’ Holly queried. She didn’t remember Alexi reading anything more that the back of a ciggie packet.

‘Yes. The argument happened to take place at a time when his brother, Roman, was coming in from the yard. He saw Alexi being attacked, went to help, and the prisoner responsible stabbed them both.’ The uniformed officer looked up from his notes. His expression was sombre.

‘Bloody hell. How did that even happen? I mean, where were the guards or whatever?’ Holly glanced at the uniformed officer, but he was sitting quietly now, still taking notes on the conversation. ‘Actually, I do remember when one of Cath’s cousins was in prison they sent him stuff by drone. But it wasn’t knives, it was just pills and a phone.’

DC Marriot sighed. ‘It is possible to get a knife in, or make one, and yes, drones are commonly used. The prison officers do a great job, but they can’t cover everything. They are convinced, as are we, that this wasn’t a random attack. It was carefully planned to take out both men.’

‘What about the prisoner who killed them?’ For a tiny, crazy moment Holly almost expected her to say Jayden had turned up inside the prison and done it himself to get revenge for Larissa and the baby. This was nightmare stuff. He couldn’t be alive …

‘He was a long-term resident, as they all were in that block, and he was recently diagnosed with cancer. Unfortunately the cancer is untreatable and he has just months to live. He doesn’t seem to have had a particular reason to take out the Balinta brothers, but we’re working on that. According to him, Alexi was disrespecting him, they had a row, and he pulled the knife to defend himself. Naturally we are looking at Larissa’s case amongst the other offences that all three men were originally charged with.’

Holly found she couldn’t speak. It was too freaky for words. Could the Nicholls somehow be responsible? Cath mentioned they were asking about Niko. Perhaps they had threatened him, blackmailed him with a hit on his brothers? She shared her thoughts with the two officers, and they nodded, clearly accepting the possibility.

‘But look at this. A piece of paper was found in the pocket of Alexi’s trousers.’ DC Marriot pushed her phone over to Holly.

Holly stared at the photograph on the screen. A piece of lined paper, slightly bloodstained, maybe torn from a notebook:

‘FOR LARISSA’

‘So, what, someone – this prisoner who killed them I guess – put this in his pocket? Someone took out Larissa’s killers for revenge, or at least wanted it to look that way?’

‘Possibly.’

Holly was thinking hard. Alexi had always been a bully, and from the age of ten he’d beaten up all the little kids on the Seaview. Roman was slower to be drawn into a fight, slightly less evil-tempered than his brother, but willing to do anything Alexi said. They had loads of enemies, from every stage of their lives. Even before they killed Larissa and her baby daughter, there would have been a list of people willing to take them out of play. Plus, of course, with them gone, the Balinta family was reduced to just Niko and his dad …

‘It is a possibility that this is not related to anything that has been happening recently, but I don’t believe in coincidence.’ DC Marriot was sipping her takeaway coffee now, eyes narrowed, clearly thinking hard, echoing Holly’s thoughts. ‘We are still very interested in the current dynamics on the Seaview, especially how this will affect certain business deals. But I can’t ignore the fact that all the key players have links to Larissa. Added to this fact, we have the obvious extra information that Devril Mancini has been seen in Westbourne, Niko Balinta is out of prison, and your brother …’

‘You really think my brother is alive and has come back with Niko and Devril?’ Holly considered this, heart pounding, and swallowed hard, trying to force herself out of the nightmare.

The DC shrugged. ‘Again, we honestly don’t know at the moment. It could be that the perpetrator is leading us towards that conclusion, but the reality is something totally different. Obviously, we will be talking to Niko, and trying to track down Devril Mancini, to see if either of them knows anything. Some of my colleagues are with Mason Balinta.’