Disobey

Everything had turned upside down and it drove Alfie crazy. Rather than having some dolly bird or fucking some Tom, all he wanted to do was spend time with Franny, the daughter of one of his old acquaintances, Patrick Doyle. When he’d first met Franny, he’d been blown away by her beauty. Piercing blue eyes and a mane of long silky hair. But she had hated him, or so she said, though he still reckoned it was more a question of how she wanted him but just couldn’t have him.

He’d thought she was a stuck-up spoilt cow, but had been cordial because of the respect he had for her father. But like everything else, things had happened, people’s outlooks changed and they’d got together and been inseparable ever since, or so he liked to tell himself.

Franny did his nut in. Most birds had always wanted to chew his ear off about him not spending enough time with them. His ex-wife, Janine Jennings, had nagged him so much about having family time with her that he’d ended up buying a mansion in Essex and dumping the fat greedy bitch there whilst he played, lived and worked in Soho. But now it seemed he was having a taste of his own medicine. Because now he wantedto spend his time with a woman; all his time if he had his way, but now the woman he’d fallen for, Franny, who was as stubborn as a mule on smack, wanted to keep her independence both financially and personally. And he, Alfie Jennings hadn’t heard such a crock of shit since ‘The Chicken Song’.

Still, he had other things to worry about at this moment. The conversation with Sarp had bothered him, especially as his name was now being mentioned; plus the attacks on Soho were beginning to get closer to home, and the meeting with Lin hadn’t gone to plan. Though perhaps once he spoke to Mr Lee, not Lin, things might be able to get worked out, or at least Alfie hoped they would.

When the attacks had first started he’d originally thought they might be a one-off and nothing to worry about, a warning shot from the triads, but after Lola’s café and Sarp’s restaurant it was clear that he’d been wrong. And one thing Alfie never liked to be was wrong.

It was beginning to get out of hand, especially now Sarp was on his case and threatening to call the Old Bill and make a noise; a sure way to make matters worse. Sarp paying them off for now would give Alfie time to sort it. But like he’d said to Sarp, he was going to do it his way – and his way was certainly not going to involve Vaughn Sadler. There was no way Alfie could let him know he’d set up a casino behind his and the other faces’ backs and that the attacks on Soho were a consequence of his actions.

About to pick up the phone to try to speak to Mr Lee, the doorbell of Alfie’s flat rang. Looking at the monitor of the CCTV screen, he saw some woman; young, brassy, standing at the door. He sighed, that was one of the bad things about having a past like his. He’d fucked that many Toms and escorts, wives and girlfriends, it was inevitable on occasion the odd one would turn up wanting to get another taste of the Jennings.

Pulling his Ralph Lauren pink jumper over his shirt, a present from Franny, Alfie headed down the plush cream thick-carpeted stairs. The bell rang again.

‘Fucking hell, hold up, this ain’t Aintree you know. I’m coming!’ Alfie yelled out to the unknown caller as he began to unbolt the door.

‘Yes?’ Alfie peered at the female caller, his good looks scrunched up in the April sunshine as he scanned his memory to recall where he knew her from.

‘It’s me.’ The woman stood chewing gum. Alfie thought she couldn’t have been older than about twenty, if she was that. She was certainly a looker though; high cheekbones, button nose, big red lips and the largest of green eyes staring out at him. She was slim yet curvaceous, and her large breasts were further emphasised in the tight red top she wore with matching mini-skirt. Alfie sniffed, she was definitely a brass. A cheap one at that. Even though she was pretty he knew he must’ve been well cut for him to go anywhere near someone who looked that young. Jail bait certainly wasn’t his thing.

‘Well?’ The girl pouted, then spat out her gum. Alfie shook his head. Once upon a time he remembered when women were women, whether they were an old brass or not they still didn’t go round acting like geezers.

‘Well what?’ Alfie answered coldly.

‘Ain’t you going to say anything to me?’

If she wanted money, well she’d come to the wrong door and if she was looking for more of the same, well maybe once but certainly not now he was with Franny. This was the first time in his life Alfie had been monogamous, and strangely enough it felt good.

‘Like what?’

‘Like hello?’

‘Like piss off.’

The girl rolled her eyes at Alfie. ‘That’s bleedin’ charming ain’t it? You can’t remember me, can you?’

‘Listen darling, do yourself a favour and go and knock on someone else’s door will ya. I’m pleased to say my days of rodding are well and truly over; besides your lot are ten a penny and if I was in the market for it, I certainly wouldn’t be barking up your skirt, I’ve never liked mouthy birds and especially not ones that look like they’ve still got their homework books in their bag. Now do one.’

The girl crossed her arms, scowling from under her long blonde hair, cheeks flushed with anger. ‘My lot? And what is “my lot”? What’s that supposed to mean?’

Alfie smirked, ‘You want me to spell it out to you?’

The girl put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it before she continued to speak. She narrowed her eyes as the smoke wafted into them and began to walk away, throwing her small tattered rucksack over her shoulder. ‘You know what, don’t bother, me mum always said you were a wanker.’

Alfie looked stunned. Her mum? What was she talking about?

The girl turned around, sticking two fingers up at Alfie. ‘See you around, Uncle Alfie, it’s been a pleasure.’

Uncle Alfie? What?… Wait. Shit. It couldn’t be. Alfie shouted out to the girl as she disappeared into the crowd of milling tourists in Old Compton Street.

‘Chloe?… Chloe-Jane? Wait!… Wait!’ Out of breath, Alfie caught up to the girl and grabbed her arm, recognition mixed with puzzlement written over his face.

‘Chloe? Fuck me girl, you’ve changed. The last time …’

‘I know, I know, the last time you saw me I looked a flipping geek.’

Alfie’s voice was warm, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. ‘I wasn’t going to say that … you’ve just, well, grown up, that’s all.’

Chloe-Jane beamed a smile. ‘Oh you mean these. I had them done last year, cost five bleeding grand.’ She pointed to her large breasts, proudly sticking out her chest even further which caught the leering attention of a male passer-by, who quickly averted his eyes once he saw the steely glare of Alfie.

Alfie pulled her towards him before taking his jumper off.

‘No, I didn’t mean them.’

Chloe-Jane giggled as Alfie handed her his top. ‘Oh Uncle Alfie, you’re so old-fashioned.’

Alfie’s voice was firm. ‘Just put it on.’

Chloe-Jane decided it was best to do as her Uncle Alfie said. She pouted, taking the jumper begrudgingly. She liked showing off her body. Liked men looking at her. It made a change.

For so long she’d been the geeky kid in school, with second-hand clothes and second-hand care. Her mother hadn’t given a shit about her. She was either boozed-up or cracked-up.

She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d gone into short-term foster homes which were a relief from the chaos of life with her mother. If it had been her choice she would’ve stayed with any one of the foster carers she’d been to, apart from the last ones. Chloe shuddered, remembering.

As foster carers went they’d been okay, well at first anyway. The woman, a doctor, had been harmless, though it’d been clear to Chloe that she disapproved of her. Her husband had been a lawyer and Chloe had thought he was kind. He’d taken her places, bought her things, told her she was pretty and treated her like a father would treat a daughter. Not that she knew what that was like, she never even knew who her dad was and neither did her mum. All Chloe had ever known was a procession of her mum’s violent boyfriends.

The man had even bought her a puppy whom she’d named Timmy, a cute white poodle. Then on her sixteenth birthday he’d given her the best present ever. He’d offered to buy her a boob job, and of course she’d jumped at the chance.

The operation had gone well and she’d gone up to a double EE. At only sixteen, the girls at school had been riddled with jealousy as suddenly overnight Chloe was now the most popular one with the boys. It’d been the happiest time of her life – and then it’d happened. Something she should’ve seen coming.

She’d been asleep when her foster father had woken her up. His hands and his mouth groping at her, pulling at her body and breasts as she tried to push him off. But he’d been too strong for her and after putting up a fight, Chloe finally was overpowered and the man had forced his erect penis into her. That was the night Chloe-Jane Jennings had lost her virginity.

The next day, Chloe had packed her things and gone to sit in the offices of social services, but as she had turned sixteen, no one had wanted to listen to her – she was too old. She’d gone back to her mother’s but had only lasted a further eight months before her mother’s behaviour had become too much for her.

She’d slept on friends’ floors for another eight months before deciding to come up to London and leave Essex behind once and for all. And it was only when she’d arrived in London she’d remembered her Uncle Alfie. Her mother’s half-brother. She’d only ever seen him twice in her life. But both times she remembered vividly because of his kindness. So where better to come and stay but with him? After all, he was family.

‘I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this, it’s just I ain’t got anywhere else to go. But I reckoned you wouldn’t mind me staying with you.’

Alfie stared at her. He hadn’t seen this coming, and even if he had there was just no way it was happening.

‘When you say stay, what exactly do you mean?’

‘Like stay. Crash out at yours. It’d be only for a couple of nights.’

Alfie began to shake his head. ‘I don’t think that’d be a good idea.’

Chloe-Jane looked at Alfie. She had to play this delicately. She glanced at Alfie slyly. Lying came second nature to her, after all, she was her mother’s daughter. Chloe chose her words very carefully.