They called him Terrence The Skid because he could handle any vehicle and was their top getaway driver. He was fearless behind the wheel of a car and could easily outrun the police, having done it many a time. He wisely invested his money in property and prudently made friends with the local Spanish mayor. Now with two restaurants and a nightclub to his name, Terrence was going straight, except for the fact that he took a significant cut in any drugs that were sold on his premises.
As soon as he saw Arty and Liam, he pushed himself away from the car and walked over with his arms outstretched to hug the boys. Arty was first to embrace the man, followed by Liam, and then Terrence turned to look at Ricky. Arty knew that once Terrence clapped eyes on him, he would get emotional.
Ricky grinned as his vague memories of Terrence came flooding back like a film. Visions of Terrence teaching him to dive, when he was six years old, flashed through his mind.
‘Fuck me, ’ave I missed you. Come ’ere and give ya Uncle Skid a hug.’
Ricky fell into his arms and allowed the man to hold him for more than the customary two seconds for a greeting embrace.
Arty and Liam smiled at each other as they both noticed the tears welling up.
‘Look at ya! I would’ve recognized you anywhere. You’re like ya grandfarver was back in the day. It’s good to have you back, my boy.’
Ricky’s cheeks glowed. ‘And it’s good to see you too, Uncle Skid.’
‘Terrence, I need to get some clobber, mate. We didn’t have time to pack,’ said Arty, itching to get some new clothes.
‘Arty, just get in the motor, will ya? We can’t hang about, fella. I’ve been given strict instructions to get you to a safe villa. It’s me new drum that not a single soul knows about, including me missus.’
Poppy and Brooke were now smiling. They both knew that this was another world. Of course, they’d watched the gorgeous tough guy Vinnie Jones in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels – but that was pure theatre! The way this man and Ricky’s dad and his friends spoke and acted, though, with their flash cars and their serious demeanour and urgency, was altogether a different ballgame. And it was cool.
The excitement of seeing Ricky again had caused Terrence to take his eye off the ball. He didn’t notice the unsuspecting tatty car following them. Even as he weaved about along the winding roads into the mountains, he still didn’t see the red Ford Focus that allowed other cars to get in front.
The Ford Focus followed the Bentley for about fifteen miles and still showed no signs of catching it before the limo shot up a private drive. The driver slowed down and glanced across to the right to see a gated entrance and the gates closing automatically. Retrieving a phone from the passenger seat, he took a snapshot before driving away.
‘Now, lads. I’ve everything you need except a housekeeper, so I’m afraid you’re gonna have to clean up ya own shit, yeah? The fridge is loaded with food, the pool’s clean, and the bar’s stocked. You two lovely ladies, you have the top floor. The windows ’ave shutters you can lock, and, lads, I’ve three handguns with your names on ’em. One other thing. I know gin is all the rage these days, so I’ve twenty different Vera Lynns, all ready for ya in the drinks cabinet. I can’t say fairer than that!’
Poppy’s and Brooke’s eyes were on stalks. Vinnie Jones had nothing on Skid. Poppy loved his outfit. And, of course, she couldn’t help but spot the gold Rolex and the mirrored sunglasses – did all gangsters wear these? she mused. Then she thought about what he had just said. Handguns.
Terrence spotted Poppy’s reaction as he peered into the rear-view mirror. He could see she looked nervous, but he didn’t know why. ‘All right, back there, Poppy?’
The lads went quiet, waiting for her response.
‘Er, what’s the matter?’ asked Terrence.
‘Um, Poppy and Brooke, well they … Ya see, it’s like this, Terrence …’ Arty was at a loss for words. He didn’t really know how to explain that the girls weren’t from their world.
Ricky took over. ‘Uncle Skid, the girls don’t really know what’s going on. It was only a few days ago that they were at uni. Their muvver’s an MP. It’s kinda complicated.’
Terrence stopped the car directly outside the impressive-looking villa. He twisted himself around to face the look of shock on both the girls’ faces. ‘Jesus. Listen, girls. All I can say is, you’ll need to learn fast. Uni students, eh? Well, if ya both have brains, the lads’ll ’ave to teach ya stuff that you ain’t ever had to learn before.’
Poppy then smiled and nodded. ‘Look, we’ll be okay, I am sure.’ She chuckled. ‘Is there anywhere we can do some target practice? Mind you, I have to say, we have been clay pigeon shooting, and Brooke is first class, aren’t you Brooke?’
Brooke beamed. ‘Oh, yes. So, loading and handling a gun for a different sport isn’t alien to me.’
Terrence almost roared with laughter at that remark, but he didn’t want to embarrass who he now believed to be two very middle-class young girls … and pretty to boot. Instead, he allowed his smile to reach his eyes. ‘Good on ya. Maybe you can teach Liam, then, ’cos you ain’t a shit-hot shot, are ya, Liam? D’ya remember, you nearly shot me cat last year? Poor ol’ Lucky ain’t never been the same.’
Liam couldn’t help laughing at that wisecrack, and he was joined by Arty and Ricky, who were doubled over, which instantly broke the worried tension.
They stepped out of the car and followed Terrence into the villa. Brooke marvelled at the inside. The entrance hall, which was wall-to-wall marble, led into a massive lounge, which boasted an enormous fireplace surrounded by sofas. Just off the lounge was a dining area with eight fashionable white leather chairs set around a long oak dining table. Although this was impressive, it was the huge bifold doors opening up to an amazing view of the mountains beyond that stunned the girls. Brooke had only seen something like this on TV while watching the X Factor contestants performing at one of the judge’s houses.
Terrence led the way back to the entrance hall and into an enormous room leading off to the right. ‘’Ere’s the kitchen. It’s all stocked up. There’s the cooker, and, well, you lot can suss out the rest.’
Poppy and Brooke were looking at each other in astonishment. They’d never been inside such a plush villa. They knew one chapter of their lives was over. The suffocation of living with their mother, Rebecca, and their so-called father, Alastair, they thought had come to an end. Now they were being drawn into a new world – a very different world – they really didn’t know how they felt about it. It had all happened so quickly.
Brooke had been preoccupied, obsessed even, with her own problems. The rape incident had affected her very badly, and it had only been a few days ago that she’d agreed even to leave her bed, never mind the house.
Poppy, for her part, had been busy revising for end of term exams, her life focused on herself. But something had made her think more about Brooke. They had both lost their stepsister, Kendall, and maybe it was for that reason they’d suddenly become close. The fact that their own mother had consistently lied to them regarding who their real father was only made them realize that they’d been living in a fake family. How their lives could have flipped on their heads in just a few days was mind-blowing. Meeting Ricky, for example, in the hospital, after her mother had mown her down in a hit-and-run, only to discover he was Kendall’s
