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CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
George slipped a CD of Christmas songs into the player and turned up the volume. Millie, clearing the Christmas wrapping from the floor, looked at him questioningly. George gave her a nervous smile. ‘Must keep the workers in the kitchen happy,’ he said.
‘Oh, yes, I suppose so,’ she answered loudly over the music, and treated him to a smile.
Will she still look at me like that in thirty minutes?George thought and frowned as he said, ‘Leave that. There’s something I must tell you, Millie.’
He walked to her and took the paper she was holding, tossing it aside. She looked up into his face, her expression so trusting it hurt George to look at her. Would she dump him when she knew the truth about his family? Most likely. The thought came with physical pain. He guessed he had always known it. That’s why he hadn’t told her sooner. He took in a deep, shaky breath, wishing he still didn’t have to tell her, but knowing he must. He couldn’t delay the moment of truth any longer.
‘Millie, my dad’s not working today.’
‘He’s not?’ She gave him a puzzled frown. She always looked so cute when her brow crumpled. ‘Why did Owen say he was?’
‘He was trying to protect me. Me and Mum.’ George stared down at Millie’s fingers still resting in his palms and went on. ‘Millie, my dad’s in prison. He was arrested yesterday morning.’
‘Why?’ Millie pulled her hands from his grip and stepped back, creating space between them that already felt like a yawning chasm. ‘What’s did he do?’
‘Had someone killed.’
‘What?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘No.’ George shook his head sadly.
‘Who?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters!’ she said, outraged.
‘I think it was the guy who beat me up.’
‘You think? You’re not certain?’
‘He was messed up pretty badly.’
‘No!’ She shook her head. The horror in her expression was killing him. He wished he hadn’t said anything. Perhaps he should have run away with her. Left everything behind. But even as he thought it, he knew that had never been an option. He couldn’t abandon his mother. He must finish his education for any chance of a decent life and then there was Owen. He couldn’t desert him.
George lifted his hands in a slow shrug. ‘I’m sorry, Millie.’ Nothing for him to do now but continue digging the hole he’d started. ‘I’ve been hiding the truth about my father from you ever since we met. I was scared you wouldn’t like me if you knew about him. My dad’s not a local businessman. Not in any normal sense, though he runs a business.’
Millie looked confused. George went on, ‘I should have told you sooner. I know that. You deserved to know, so you’d understand what you were getting mixed up with by going out with me. My dad’s a member of an East London criminal gang. Actually, he’s the top man in a family crime syndicate. The name Halcyon in this area strikes fear into most sensible, law-abiding people.’
All colour drained from Millie’s face. George stared at her, unable to read her thoughts, but the horror in her eyes was all too obvious.
‘Say something,’ he said, panic rising. ‘I’ve told you the truth. Say something.’
Millie edged further away from him. George thought he read fear in her expression. He’d seen it enough times before in others, but never in Millie. It hurt to think she might fear him now.I would never hurt her.‘I’m not like my dad. His life isn’t for me, Millie. Please believe me. Like I said the other night, I want nothing to do with the family business.’
‘But you knew, didn’t you? What you said about there not being another attack from those lads. You knew what was going to happen to them.’
‘Yes… No.’ George flapped his hands like a distressed bird. ‘I thought Dad would retaliate, but I didn’t know he would get anyone killed. I tried to stop him. I said I didn’t want revenge, but he wouldn’t have it… he wouldn’t listen, he said. “No one beats up his son and gets away with it”.’
‘What about your mum? Does she know?’
‘Yes.’
‘And Owen, does he know that kid was killed because of you?’
‘Yes, and it was not because of me. I just told you, I didn’t want revenge. But Dad was unstoppable.’
