The Good Life by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online Page A

Micky Two Fags because he smoked like a chimney and only ever had two fags in his packet − whether by design no one was really sure. But it was a name that had stuck since his school days. Micky Platt didn’t like Cain Moran; in fact, Micky Platt didn’t like anyone. He was a hard, pig-headed individual, so this wasn’t going to be an easy sell. But it was what it was. Only time would tell.

Chapter Nineteen
    Micky Platt had never been so insulted in his life. How dare that cunt Cain Moran offer him an out from his own club? From his own premises? Outrageous was the only word for it.
    ‘You must be on something, Cain, if you think I will just roll over and give you my fucking livelihood without a fucking fight.’
    Cain had been expecting this reaction so he let the man vent his spleen.
    ‘You come waltzing in here like you already own the place, telling me what I can and can’t fucking do? Can you hear yourself?’
    Cain looked at Jamie Jones and Johnny Mac: both men were tight-lipped and following his lead as he knew they would. Micky Two Fags was going to be the hardest nut to crack, but once he had capitulated all the others would follow. It was why they had approached him first.
    ‘Listen to me, Micky. This is non-negotiable, mate. I’m not asking you to sell to me − I’m telling you. I will pay you the fair market price, for goodwill et cetera. Unfortunately for you, I need your premises, and that’s the bottom line. Harsh, but I am just being honest. You will sell to me eventually. Because I’m determined, Micky.’
    Micky Two Fags was almost apoplectic. ‘Oh, no, I fucking won’t! I don’t care how many fucking thugs you bring with you. I saw the others getting out of the cars, your little show of force. Well, you don’t fucking scare me, you lairy cunt.’
    Cain stood up and, sighing heavily, he said calmly, ‘Well, I should scare you, Micky, because I always get what I want. And I want this place.’
    Johnny Mac and Jamie Jones stood up then too, and Micky Two Fags saw what he was up against. But he didn’t care. This was his club and it would stay that way.
    ‘Fuck you, Moran.’
    Cain grinned nastily. ‘Not even if you asked me extra nicely. Be seeing you, Micky.’
    After the men left, Micky found that he was shaking − how much was in anger and how much was in fear he didn’t know. What he did know was that losing his club was inevitable; it was just whether he would fold sooner rather than later. Picking up his Benson & Hedges, he opened the packet and it was empty. Screwing the box up in his hand he threw it across his office, cursing Cain Moran into the ground as he did so.

Chapter Twenty
    Cain snuck into his house at twenty-five past three in the morning. As he tip-toed through the giant hallway he got the fright of his life to see his wife sitting on the large staircase waiting for him.
    ‘You’re home, then?’
    Cain knew that tone of voice and his heart sank. Caroline was up for a fight, and one of her fights could go on till the next day. If only he could delay the row until after he had had a few hours’ kip. If she was pissed, then fireworks were guaranteed even over something trivial, but he had been out of the house for thirty-six hours. Even though he had not exactly expected a brass band welcoming him home, he had anticipated her being tucked up in bed.
    Holding his hands up as if she was pointing a gun at him, he said reasonably, ‘Calm down, Caroline.’
    She started to laugh hysterically. ‘Calm down you say? Aren’t you Mr Reasonable And Kind?’
    Then the expensive crystal wineglass she’d been nursing whizzed by his head and she was off the stairs and launching herself at him, all the time screaming expletives and attempting to claw his eyes out.
    ‘Who is she? Who is it can keep you out this fucking long?’ She was enormously strong, so great was her anger. ‘I will fucking kill you and then her. So come on, clever bollocks, tip it up. Who is she?’
    Cain