Chapter 7

 

Just as Paddy had said, the handbag was there under the ottoman. April delved into the black leather bag and removed a laptop and her mobile phone. The laptop would be one issued by the tech department and she knew it would contain material a single woman would have. All the emails and Facebook account would be in the name of her alias, Gemma Dean. Even her iPhone had been set up.

She clicked on a couple of the text messages. They were innocuous girly chats with people she didn’t even know, but for anyone finding the phone, it wouldn’t look amiss.

She pressed her sister’s number as the coded Molly Tym that Paddy had told her. Even if she didn’t utter a word, she would know it was Chloe when she answered as invariably music would be playing in the background. If it wasn’t, something would be wrong.

The melody of Sam Smith’s, Stay with Me lingered in the background as Chloe answered. “April! Thank God!” she shrieked.

“Hi Chlo.”

Her sister’s voice went up in pitch, “Where the hell have you been? We haven’t heard from you for months?”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ve been on an extended work thing.”

“Where? Didn’t you get my messages?”

Chloe had every right to be angry, but how could she have phoned? She couldn’t allow her cover to be broken. The spell in prison had been the longest time ever she’d not spoken to her beloved sister. But she was out now, so would make up for it as soon as this last job was over.

“I couldn’t get back to you; I’ve been out of the country.” Although she’d been expecting Chloe’s wrath, it still felt uncomfortable. “It’s been a difficult time, I’ve really missed you.”

“Where’ve you been that you couldn’t have sent a text? I’ve been worried sick. You could have at least let me know you were okay.”

“I know and I’ve said I’m sorry. It was a one off and it won’t happen again, I promise. Tell me about Noah, how’s he doing?”

Chloe was easily distracted. Noah, her four year old son, was her life.

“He’s fine,” her voice softened, “we’ve got another fundraising on Saturday night at the club. We’ve raised twenty-five thousand so far.”

April sighed. That was nowhere near the hundred grand needed to take Noah to Missouri for treatment. It wasn’t just the surgery, there was the aftercare, all the physiotherapy and learning to walk, and there would need to be accommodation while her sister and husband stayed in the US with Noah. Probably the one hundred thousand pounds was an underestimate.

“Twenty-five grand, that’s amazing, well done. I’ll be able to add to that soon, I’ll be getting a pay-out at the end of this job I’m doing, so I can send you some.”

“Oh, April, you’ve given us more than you can afford to, you need your money.”

“Noah needs it more. I want to help, I’ve missed him so much.”

“He misses you too. He’s always asking when you are coming. I don’t know what bloody job you’re doing, but surely you can visit, even if it’s just for the day. Please say you’ll come.”

Her sister’s plea wrenched at her gut, but there was no way she could go right now. At the end of this job, she’d have plenty of time to see them.

“I can’t, Chlo, I would if I could. But I promise you, this will be my last job, and then I’ll have all the time in the world to visit you. In fact, I might even move. I don’t need to be in the city once I’m no longer working.”

“Yeah, right. Like you’re gonna give up the job you love. You thrive on it. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to do since you were a little girl.”

“I know but I’m not going to give up completely. I’ll just go into security or something like that. I’ll do anything that will allow me to be in my own bed each night.”

“Can you afford to do that? You’ve got a lot of years ahead of you to work?”

“I think so, I’ll have to see. But like I said, this is the last job.”

“How long is it going to be? Is this a one-off conversation like the last time, and I won’t hear from you for three months?”

Yes, it was exactly like that. She might be able to manage an odd phone call, but it wouldn’t be any more than that for the foreseeable future. She actually preferred to work without any interruptions. When she did a job, which invariably entailed becoming an alias, she liked to concentrate on just that. She couldn’t have any distractions.

“I’ll do my best to keep in touch,” she reassured, “but you know how it is.”

“Oh, I know all right. Your work always comes first, your family second.”

“Don’t be like that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Can I speak to my gorgeous nephew, is he there?”

Chloe sighed, “I’ll put him on, but I want to speak to you before you go. Don’t be hanging up.”

“I won’t.”

“Just a sec, then.”

She waited. It had been so long since she’d spoken to Noah, her heart was actually racing.

She heard Chloe in the background, “It’s Auntie April, say hello.”

A tiny voice came through, “Hello.”

“Hello, my favourite soldier, how are you?”

“I’ve just been for an ice cream.”

“Have you? Was it one of those big white whippy ones with a cone?”

“Yeah, and I had a chocolate flake.”

“Oh, you lucky boy, I love those.”

“You can come next time if you want to.” His sweet voice pained her heart. How long before she would be able to?

“Can I? I’d love that. I’m going to come and see you soon, or maybe you can visit me. Would you like that?”

“With Mummy?”

“Yes of course with Mummy.”

“Can we go to the cinema again?”

“Why not? We liked it last time, didn’t we? Your mummy told us off for eating too much chocolate, can you remember?”

He giggled. “When can we go?”

“Soon my darling I promise. Right now I’ve got to go to work, but I’m going to post a little present for you. So, in two days, look out for the postman, and see what he brings you. Will you do that?”

“How many sleeps?”

“Well, let’s say three to be on the safe side, and then you should get something from me.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, put Mummy back on so I can say goodbye to her. And don’t forget, even when I can’t get to see you, I’m always thinking about you. I love you very much, sweetheart.”

He didn’t reply but she knew he was nodding his little head.

“I’ll get Mummy. Bye bye.”

“Bye bye, my darling. Love you loads.”

Chloe took a while, but eventually came back on the phone. “What have you promised him? He’s on about the postman coming.”

“I’ve just said I’ll put a little something in the post for him. I told him to watch out for the postman.”

“Thanks for that,” she replied sarcastically, “he’ll be plaguing me to death every day now.”

A smile twitched April’s lips, she knew exactly what he’d be like. “What about you, Chlo, are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Gavin might be getting a promotion at work, nothing definite, but he thinks he might be in with a chance. It will mean a bit more money coming in which we could do with. If he does get it, he says the first thing he’s going to do is a makeover in Noah’s bedroom.”

“Aw, that sounds lovely; I’ll keep everything crossed for him.”

She thought about her brother-in-law, Gavin. Not the sharpest tool in the box, but a hard working man. And he loved Noah so much. He’d walk to the ends of the earth for him. Nobody could do more for their disabled son than he did. Her sister wouldn’t have been able to cope without him.

Her and Chloe were a real chalk and cheese mix. It was hard to believe they were sisters really, they were so different. Chloe was highly strung and worried about everything, whereas she didn’t have a nervous bone in her body.

“Right, I’d better get off, Chlo, look after yourself and I’ll be in touch when I can.”

“Okay.” April could hear the disbelief in her sister’s voice, “Watch what you’re doing. I have no idea what these secret jobs are, but for goodness’ sake take care. I’m sure there must be some risks involved.”

“Hey, don’t you be worrying like that, the jobs are nothing of that nature,” she reassured. It’s just a bit of undercover work, that’s all, and as I said, this is the last one I’m doing.”

How could she tell her sister that every job she did had danger attached to it?

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Chloe replied. “Oh, before you go, I haven’t told you. Noah goes to school on the bus now instead of me taking him. There’s a driver and a designated lady, Moira, who helps the children get on and off the bus.”

“That’s brilliant. It’ll be good for him to get a bit of independence.”

“Yes, he loves it. I just get freezing now waiting at the bus stop. I go in the car sometimes if it’s really cold, even though it’s only round the corner.”

“I don’t blame you, I would too. Give him a big kiss from me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. You will call again? Promise me it won’t be another three months.”

“I promise,” she reassured and repeated the childhood saying which they always did at the end of their conversations, “love you to the moon and back.”

She knew her sister was smiling, “You too. Please take care.”

“I will, I promise. Bye for now.”

She placed the phone in the handbag and lent forward to carefully place it in the hole below the floorboards. The small rug hid the loose floorboards and she dragged the ottoman over the top. The cheap pay as you go phone would suffice for now. It would look odd having the latest iPhone for the part she was about to play. She had to continue with the deception of being poor.

 

She stretched out on the uncomfortable bed with a lumpy mattress that should have been thrown out years ago, and picked up the glossy brochure Tom had given her about the Carson Rider gallery. There was a sleek picture of the charismatic owner, Dylan Rider, but no mention of his brother, Victor, who she knew was more of a silent partner. It appeared that the gallery was founded by their father in the eighties.

Each page was impressive with the vast amount of paintings exhibited. She knew all there was to know from studying it prior to her time inside, but it was good to refresh her memory.

The ground floor of the gallery was open to the public. It was tastefully decorated with the wide walk-through areas and strategic seating which would allow people to sit and enjoy the paintings on show. There were a number of valuable paintings listed, with a brief description of the history of each one.

As part of her rehabilitation programme, her job was going to be cleaning. Seemingly, Dylan Rider liked to give ex-prisoners the chance to rehabilitate. She was, with the support of her parole officer, to spend three months working there. The rent on her flat was being paid, and she’d receive a salary with an increment from the prison rehabilitation programme. So, to all intents and purposes, her rehabilitation was state funded. In reality, the police force was paying her, and the insurance company once the Portillo was recovered.

Over the last twelve weeks in the open prison, she had got used to being prisoner, Gemma Dean. She had supposedly been transferred there from Campden female prison, having served two years for fraud. Any online searches done on her which the police knew would be likely to happen, would all come up with Gemma Dean. There was even a birth certificate and passport in the name of Gemma Dean.

 

The worst part of the operation up to now had been the stay in prison. Every single day inside had dragged. She’d tried working in the laundry initially which was okay, but eventually got a move to the kitchens which were more to her liking. There she met Julia, and they became friends. Julia made her prison stretch bearable.

There was a hierarchy amongst the prisoners which they’d tried to enforce on her. Each cluster group amongst the prisoners had a menacing leader, and the inmates fitted into one of the groups. April fitted into none, and she had no intention of doing so.

She was more of a loner, which clearly annoyed Irene Ball, one of the ring-leaders. It started out when she was asked to do small things such as lending an inmate some money or smuggling extra food out of the kitchens. She didn’t smoke so couldn’t share cigarettes, but they were always wanting stuff from her. Initially, when she ignored them, they left her alone, most probably as they weren’t entirely sure if she would conform. But like any bullies, Irene and her gang needed to find a weakness. When she refused to comply, things started to happen. Toiletries went missing from her cell, and a couple of photos were defaced, which didn’t bother her too much as they were fake anyway. But the final straw was finding urine in her bed.

Her temper had raged.

Undercover or not, she was having none of that.

She’d made her way to the recreation room and asked her friend Julia to distract the prison guard. Irene Ball was watching television with her buddies sat around fawning over her.

April went up to her chair and from behind, trapped her head in a headlock.

She glared at the cronies sat alongside, “Don’t any of you move a fucking muscle.”

They stared but didn’t attempt to intervene.

Through gritted teeth, she told Irene, “I know exactly how to break your neck if I want to, so you’d better keep still. Got it?”

She tightened her grip, making it difficult for Irene to breathe let alone speak. Irene got the message and nodded with her eyes.

“You’ve put piss on my bed, so I’ll tell you what we’re going to do now. We are going to your cell and we are swapping mattresses. You’re having the one with piss on, and I’m having yours.”

April dragged Irene out of the chair still with her hands locked around her neck. She fixed her eyes on the group of women ready to spring off their chairs. She spoke quietly so she didn’t attract any of the prison officers.

“I’m going to release my arms and this fat bitch and I are walking together to our cells. Don’t any of you dare try and alert the guards. If anyone does, they’ll have me to answer to. Have you morons all got that?”

The cronies had nodded in unison, surprise etched all over their well-worn faces that someone, who up until then had been largely solitary, had dared to tackle Irene of all people.

She’d released her arms from around Irene’s neck and linked an arm through hers.

“You as much as itch your fucking nose, and you’ll be sorry,” she’d warned.

They’d walked out of the recreation room and past the prison guard. If it looked like they were going to their cell for some intimacy, she didn’t care.

Irene’s eyes had been filled with hatred, furious at being humiliated in front of her cronies, no doubt. But all bullies relied on compliance, and Irene knew she’d met her match with April.

For the rest of her sentence, April continued to be solitary, but by attacking the leader of the pack who the inmates all looked up to, she’d gained credence and respect.

She sighed, thank God that part of her life was now over. She stared at the dingy off-white ceiling that must have last seen paint twenty-five years ago, and contemplated how long she would have to be there. Prison had been necessary; but part two of the plan started right now.

Tomorrow she would finally be one step closer to Dylan Rider.

Softly, softly catches the monkey.