he was off, barging across the bar, bumping into punters in his headlong rush for the door. A bloke with a pint slopped all down him said, ‘Hey! Watch it, mate,’ and that was enough.
‘I ain’t your mate!’
Freddy started in, punching the man hard in the jaw. Glass and beer flew into the air. The man reeled back and Freddy piled in on him, punching, kicking, red-faced with fury. Si was there in a second and grabbed his brother, dragging him back, shoving him hard towards the door.
‘Get out of it, you silly bugger,’ he snarled, and Freddy went, the red rage still gripping him – but this was Si, and he always took notice of Si.
They lurched, panting, out into the car park, wary punters skirting around them, shouts and curses following them out.
‘Just keep walking,’ said Si, hurrying towards the car, jumping in, starting the motor. He’d had three pints, but who gave a toss? Laws were for other people, not for him, not for the King boys. Freddy jumped in too. In minutes they were a mile away and Si was just clipping on his seat belt and telling his brother to calm down.
‘You want to keep a lid on that temper,’ said Si irritably.
He felt like he’d been saying that to Freddy ever since the silly git turned two years old. Freddy had never understood the word subtle, but Si did. Si knew that sometimes you just had to think things through and bide your time. He didn’t want Freddy blundering about upsetting Saz and Oli. The bitch was their mother, after all. He had to tread carefully. He would act, but discreetly, choosing his moment with care.
‘Hey! I got every right to be mad,’ said Freddy. ‘She’s out, and now you’re telling me there’s not a thing I can do about it.’ Freddy swore to himself that he was going to sort that cow. He owed it to Leo. Usually he paid attention when Si made his feelings clear, but not this time, no way.
Si sent his brother a sidelong glance as he tore through the lanes. Crisis over, he thought. Freddy seemed calm again. For now. And thank fuck for that, because tomorrow was the wedding, their niece was getting married. Si was giving her away. The last thing any of them needed right now was Freddy kicking off.
Lily was sitting in Becks’s kitchen, her head in her hands. Becks put a mug of coffee in front of her, and sat down opposite.
‘So what did Adrienne say? Was it bad?’ asked Becks, chewing gum.
Lily dropped her hands. She stared at Becks.
Becks stopped chewing. ‘What?’ she asked nervously.
‘Did you know about the others?’
A wary smile formed on Becks’s lips. ‘Others?’
‘Leo’s other women.’
Becks’s mouth dropped open. ‘What other women?’
‘Are you bullshitting me, Becks?’
‘No! Absolutely not. What other women? I knew about Adrienne, shit, everyone did.’
Yeah, thought Lily. Everyone did.
The court case had brought that right out into the open. Adrienne’s involvement with Leo had been all over the tabloids, along with photos of Lily, the wronged wife turned murderess.
Adrienne had told her that although the police had questioned her about Leo, she had never said a word to them or to anyone else about the other women in his life. The list was her private property, and the detective who had tracked down ‘those tarts’ was bound by client confidentiality, she’d told Lily smugly.
‘You didn’t think to tell me about Adrienne,’ said Lily to Becks.
Becks looked pained. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you, Lils. I nearly told you a dozen times, but then I thought, would I want to know? And I backed off from it.’
‘You mean you wouldn’t want to know? If Joe was shagging about the place? Really?’
Becks shook her head, her jaw moving rhythmically as she chewed the gum. ‘Nope. Ignorance is bliss, Lils, that’s what I say. Not that Joe would do that. Not his style. And anyway, I’d have his balls for earrings if he did. But come on. My Joe? No way.’
Lily thought back to when ignorance had nearly driven her half mad, with Leo saying she was imagining it all and her own mind playing tricks on her; she’d got more paranoid and more miserable by the day. It hurt her that Becks had kept this huge, awful secret from her. But that was Becks. She’d been a great friend. She’d visited Lily inside – while she was in Holloway, anyway; always cheering, always cheerful, when no one else had bothered. Lily would never forget that. But sometimes, you only ever got half the story from her. And sometimes, you didn’t get the story at all.
‘So what are you saying? What, is there more than one?’ Becks asked, curiosity eating her up.
‘Keep going,’ said Lily, sipping the hot, strong coffee.
‘Two then?’
Lily shook her head.
‘Get out. More than two?’
‘More than three,’ said Lily.
‘Four?’ Becks’s eyes were huge with amazement, her jaw moving like a piston. ‘You’re having a laugh.’
‘Try six,’ said Lily.
‘What the…?’ Becks was gazing at Lily as if she’d gone mad. ‘No. You can’t be serious.’
‘Got it straight from the horse’s mouth. Adrienne’s, to be precise.’
Lily gave a grim smile even though inside she felt sick with the betrayal of it. To learn that Leo had been unfaithful to her with one woman was bad enough; to be told straight out that he was a serial adulterer was painful. All right, they hadn’t exactly been love’s young dream: Adrienne was right about that. Leo had been second-best for Lily, and maybe he had sensed that, who knew? But six women? That was really taking the piss.
Although, thinking about it, she supposed there was a pattern here. The three brothers, Leo, Simon and Freddy, had been sired by a philanderer, after all. Old man Bobby – or ‘Bubba’ as he was more commonly known – King had put it about all over the place, everyone knew that, right up until he fell off the twig. Leo was just following the parental example. Freddy was still single and fancy-free, he could do what he liked. But if Leo had followed his old man’s example and cheated, then it was entirely possible that Si was doing the same, married or not.
If I was Maeve, Lily thought, I’d have my eye on Si right now.
She thought again of Leo, screwing around and then coming home to her. For God’s sake! Their love life hadn’t been all that, but she could have got a dose of anything, the selfish bastard. Anything at all. The thought of that repulsed her, gave her the dry heaves. And it filled her with rage, too. That he’d treated
