swivelled round to see Maggie Donaldson’s beautiful face distorted with anger. She turned away from him and called to her brother as she saw him start to walk away.
‘Tommy … wait. Tommy I want to talk to you … please.’
Johnny saw the hurt appear in Maggie’s eyes as Tommy ignored her and disappeared into the Soho night, leaving Maggie to vent her anger on him.
‘Maggie, Jesus, it’s good to see you. I … I was going to call but … ’
He trailed off, knowing whatever came out of his mouth would sound hollow. He glanced at Saucers for some help who only smiled weakly at both of them, before diplomatically hurrying off down Old Compton Street.
Clearing his throat, Johnny tried again, wanting to apologise for what he’d said to Tommy. ‘Listen babe, what I said to Tommy, I wasn’t thinking. You know I didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘Story of your life, Johnny. Always saying stuff you don’t mean. Like saying you’d make sure Harley was alright, but you never meant anything by that either did you? Answer me this. Have you even seen her once since she’s been with Gina?’
Johnny put his head down, not wanting to admit he hadn’t, but not wanting to tell a blatant lie either which he knew Maggie would’ve known was untrue. So he’d stayed silent.
‘I take it from the look on your face you haven’t. Then you wouldn’t know what a state she’s in. She looks a mess, Johnny. What were you thinking, giving her to Gina to look after?’
‘She’s okay though, ain’t she?’
His words sent Maggie into an angry hissing rant.
‘Okay? No she ain’t okay. How could she be with Gina? Would you want to be stuck with her? Jesus, a fart can’t escape from Gina Daniels quick enough. But if you mean, is she alive? Well yeah she is, but okay she ain’t. I needed you to help her. She needed you to. I will never forgive you for this.’
‘Listen, I don’t want to talk here.’
Johnny looked round nervously but Maggie was beyond caring at that point. ‘What are you afraid of, Johnny? Someone seeing us together and they rumble your secret life? Then your perfect world comes crashing in on you?’
‘It’s not just my neck on the block if anyone finds out is it Maggie? It’s Harley’s too.’
‘Don’t you dare, Johnny. Don’t you dare pretend you’re concerned about her.’
Johnny’s face darkened and he grabbed her arm as she turned to walk away. ‘Think you’re so flipping perfect don’t you Maggie? Like butter wouldn’t melt, the way you look down your nose at me. Well if you’re so much better than the rest of us, why didn’t you keep that big mouth of yours closed? Keep that temper of yours in check. But oh no, you couldn’t do that could you? You had to prove a point and lay one out on a copper. So stop judging me, Maggie. Ask yourself instead why you didn’t have more self-control. If you love our daughter as much as you say you do, why did you find yourself doing bird for a year?’
His words cut. She knew what Johnny was saying was true. Here she was going round being all high and mighty but she was to blame for all this. When Maggie had been in Highpoint she’d opened her eyes every morning, seeing the metal bars on the windows and she’d asked herself the same question: why?
‘I hate you Johnny Taylor, you know that?’
He pulled her then, towards Whispers nightclub, looking around anxiously as he did so. Wanting to make sure nobody saw them.
Johnny took her down by the side of the club and firmly – but without hurting her – pushed Maggie against the cold red brick of the wall. Leaning on it with his hands on either side of her he stood inches away, looking down at her, her eye level only coming up to his chest.
Maggie smelt his expensive cologne and felt the heat of his body. He stared at her intently with his beautiful eyes and his raven hair flopping handsomely over his forehead.
‘Don’t say that to me Maggie. Never say you hate me.’
‘I’ll say what I want Johnny, especially if I mean it.’
‘You don’t mean it; it’s just that flipping temper of yours talking.’
‘Well that’s where you’re wrong. I do.’
‘Then look me in the eyes Maggie and tell me.’
She stared at him and he leaned in to kiss her. For a moment she let him and she forgot. Forgot her anger, her problems, her life – only remembering her love for the man she’d been taught to despise. Then the moment, like the clouds in the sky, passed and everything came flooding back. Maggie pushed him away, locking eyes with him. She spoke angrily.
‘Yes Johnny, I do. I do hate you.’
The pain was obvious in his eyes but so was the pain in Harley’s when she’d told her she had to stay with Gina for a little bit longer until she worked something out. Thinking about her daughter made Maggie reject any pleading from Johnny. He was a grown man and he’d soon get over it. Harley was a child who needed her. Trusted her.
Harley came first above and beyond anyone else.
‘You can’t hate me, Maggie.’
‘Why can’t I, Johnny?’
He gently touched her face again, but this time Maggie pulled away from his touch. She walked away as Johnny continued to talk. ‘I’ll tell you why you can’t hate me, Maggie – because I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. And secondly … secondly, because you’re my wife.’
Tommy had felt agitated after the confrontation with Johnny. What he’d said about Max had completely thrown him. Maggie had caught him off guard as well. Seeing her had given him a shock. He’d known she was coming home, but to see her standing behind him, glaring defiantly at Johnny Taylor with her huge blue eyes had taken him back to when they were kids. When it was Maggie, but should’ve been him, trying to protect them all from their father.
Tommy hadn’t wanted to see her. She brought up too many memories, made the noise in his head seem louder. She’d smiled at him, reaching out to put her hand on his arm but as always, he hadn’t known how to react. She made him feel confused, so he’d ignored her, giving Johnny a warning look and disappearing into the night-time streets as his head began to spin.
It’d been the second time in less than twenty-four hours a Taylor had made him retreat back to his private space.
Tommy listened and waited. He saw the flickering movements of the woman through the crack as she lay naked on the bed. From the dark of the closet he called her name. He didn’t hear her stir so he called again in a whisper. He couldn’t see her face but he could imagine the fear on it as he heard her anxious breathing. A moment later he flung open the doors and watched as she screamed.
Tommy heard the muffled tortured screams through her gag as her mouth was taped and her hands bound behind her back. Slow tears trickled down her face, stuffing up her nose, making it harder to breathe as the tape pulled back on her mouth and her eyes bulged with panic. He could see the torturous look on her face and in her eyes, and felt the fear resonating from her as he started to take off his belt.
It was Friday morning and Maggie stood in the doorway observing the refurbished ceiling of St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in Soho Square. A church she’d been coming to since she was a child and where she’d had her first Holy Communion, watched by her father