Pretty Mess

Chapter 1

one

I’m feeling cheerful and humming to myself as I round the corner. I just had a good lesson, I have the afternoon off, and the sun is shining for once. The humming fades away as my house comes into view.

The place looks the same as ever—same dirty bricks, peeling paintwork, and the red door that we’d painted in an attempt to jolly the house up but had only highlighted how shit the rest of the exterior looks.

Tyler’s old car is still there. It’s been broken down so long that the weeds have grown around it.

The new additions are the men coming out of the house carrying furniture.

I stop dead in my tracks. Unease flares brightly as one of the men tosses the table he’s carrying onto a pile on the street. It’s a careless, dismissive motion, and the cheap wood splinters into pieces. What the fuck ?

I start to run, my rucksack banging painfully into my shoulders. The men glance up at the sound of my hurried steps. They look like they’ve sprung from a mould for thugs—thickset, no necks, and cold eyes.

“What’s going on?” I gasp, coming to a stop.

As one, they all look to another man just coming out of the front door.

He has the unmistakable air of being in charge.

He’s tall, with close-cropped hair and an expensive suit.

He pauses on the doorstep, looking at us before removing his sunglasses.

There’s no expression on his face and no warmth in his eyes.

“Who are you?” he says.

I gape at him. “Who am I? More to the point, who are you ?”

His eyes move over me, itemising my faded jeans, old pink Kylie concert T-shirt, dusty Vans, and battered rucksack. Amusement flares on his face, but rather than relaxing me, I tense more. It’s like seeing a shark grin and show its teeth just before it eats you.

“Ah, you must be Wes. Tyler told me all about you.”

I blink. “You know my brother?”

A smile plays over his lips. “You could say that, Wes.”

“I just did.”

The rude comment seems to amuse him even more. “He never warned me you were such a mouthy little fucker, though,” he says.

My anxiety grows. “What’s going on?” I look around and fear seers through me. “Where’s Cath?”

“In the house.” He pauses. “For the moment.”

I step forward, my temper flaring. “What the fuck does that mean?” I look at his stern face. “Have you hurt her?” I demand.

“No,” he says, and the simple truth in his voice stays me. “She’s just getting her stuff together.”

“Why?” Silence falls until I shift awkwardly. “What’s going on?” I ask again. “If you know my brother so well, where is he?”

He steps onto the pavement, and I can’t help my instinctive move backwards. Humiliation rushes through me at the amusement in his eyes, but there’s something cold about him, something very frightening despite his nice suit and pleasant tone.

“My name is Mr Grey. I work for Bill Jackson,” he says.

My brain struggles with the surname. It sounds familiar somehow. Realisation dawns. “The bookie?”

“Amongst other things, yes.”

I remember talk about the “other things”—whispers about dark things. And now I’m terrified. “What’s that got to do with us? Why are you in my house?”

“ Your house?”

I lick my lips. “Well, Tyler’s house,” I admit.

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

The fear is a tight, tangled knot in my stomach. “Where is he?”

“Don’t worry about it, Wes.”

I shake my head. “Oh, well, now you’ve said that I feel so much better.”

Mr Grey laughs, and this time his amusement can’t hide his air of controlled aggression. “I like you.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

He shrugs. “Not usually. Your brother is okay for now, which is considerably more than he deserves. However, he is now Mr Jackson’s business which could mean a severe change to that status if things don’t go well.”

“What do you mean?”

He cocks his head. “Your brother owes a lot of money to Mr Jackson, Wes, and that’s not something that makes my boss happy.”

Shock rushes through me so quickly I feel almost dizzy. “That can’t be true. You must be mixing us up with someone else. Why would Tyler owe money to a—” I falter. “—a bookie?” I finish slowly. Surely, I’m wrong.

He offers me a cool smile that hardly makes his thin mouth move. “I think you’re getting the picture now.”

He goes to move past me, and before I can stop myself, I grab his arm. He stills, and then a ripple of movement goes through his body. He turns his head slowly and stares at me, and I drop his arm as if stung.

“Sorry,” I say quickly. “But you must have us mixed up with someone else. Tyler doesn’t gamble.”

“Ah, that’s what they all say. Unfortunately, you’d be wrong. Your brother’s got a bad habit, Wes, and sadly, your housing situation just got a little more unstable because of it.”

A bad habit. The words ring with truth. Something’s been wrong with my brother for a while. I’d thought it was because he’d got problems with Cath or was worried about bills. I’d tried to talk to him about it so many times, but he always brushed me off with a smile and a joke.

I had no idea gambling was the problem. He’s always liked a little flutter on the horses, but never this .

My silence grows, and Mr Grey elaborates.

“Your brother’s house is being taken to pay his debt to my boss.

You’ll see your brother again once we’ve cleared it and got the keys off you.

Until then, he’s Mr Jackson’s guest. I’m afraid you and your sister-in-law will have to find somewhere else to live. ”

“But where?”

“That’s not my problem,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m here to ensure things go smoothly with the house changing hands and to give you a little warning that if you act out, your brother’s life might get even more complicated.

I’ll take your keys now.” He holds out his hand expectantly.

I fumble in my pocket and drop my keys into his palm.

He looks towards the house. “I don’t bother myself with women, but some of my colleagues aren’t quite as fussy, so I’d do as you’re told, Wes. ”

He nods at me and heads towards the white Mercedes parked on the street, and I watch him go, my mind reeling.

One of the thugs comes out and throws a small, brightly stencilled cupboard onto the pile of broken furniture.

I sag against the low stone wall for a moment, feeling like my legs don’t work anymore.

Tyler had made that cupboard for my mum when she was alive, and I remember the sunny day when I’d tried to help him paint it.

I’d been too young to be any help, and I can still hear the sound of my mum’s laughter.

A woman’s voice sounds from inside the house, the note of fear clear. I rush into the house, my heart pounding like it’s going to come out of my chest. “Cath?” I shout in panic.

I relax slightly when she appears in the kitchen doorway. Her long, dark hair is ruffled, but she looks okay if you can manage to ignore the complete devastation and fear on her face.

I open my arms, and she walks straight into them, sending me back a couple of steps with the fierceness of her hug. I clutch her tight and feel her whole body shudder. Tears instantly wet my T-shirt. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whisper, patting her back. “It’ll be okay.”

It’s a lie, and we know it.

She raises her face and even tearstained, she’s beautiful. My brother never seemed able to believe that he’d scored such a gorgeous girl and one with such a big heart.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers.

I pull her out of the way of two men who are carrying our old sofa. Sweat runs down their faces, and they grunt as they wrangle the sofa out the front door. I hear a crash as it joins the pile of all our other worldly possessions.

“Is it true?” I ask. “About the gambling?” Some small part of myself expects her to tell me no, and my heart sinks when she hesitates.

She steps back, still clutching my hand. “I didn’t believe it at first, but I phoned Tyler.”

“You spoke to him? Is he okay?”

She nods, and relief makes me shaky. “He told me to do what they say, and he’ll explain everything when he gets back.”

“Gets back from where? And where is he meeting us? We don’t appear to live here anymore.”

A man totes the pine chairs out of our kitchen. I remember my mum getting them on credit from a furniture store. She’d been so proud of them that we had to get changed before we could sit on them for a while. The crash as they meet their end makes me wince.

I feel my eyes grow hot. It’s like they’re destroying her memory. Anger stirs at my brother. This is all his fault.

“So, it’s true,” I say slowly. “I can’t believe this, Cath. Did you know about any of it?”

“No.” She bites her lip. “But I’ve known something was up with him for months. It’s been like he’s had the weight of the world on his shoulders. I know you noticed.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe this is what it was, though. I thought he had problems at work. Not… not gambling.”

I shake my head. “The bloke in charge says we’ve got to get out of here today.”

“I know.”

“It’s going to be okay,” I say fiercely. “I’ll look after you.”

She squeezes my hand, her blue eyes full of affection for a fleeting moment. “I’m going back to my mum’s.”

Relief and dread fill me. Relief that I won’t have to be responsible for her because right at this moment I haven’t got a fucking clue what I’m going to do with myself, let alone Cath. And dread at the tone in her voice.

“Permanently?” I whisper.

The silence lasts for a few beats. “Maybe,” she finally says. “I don’t want to see him, Wes. I can’t believe he’s done this to us.”

“I know,” I say, reaching out and stroking her hair back. The strands are soft and warm on my fingers. “I understand and I don’t blame you.” I hesitate. “But maybe give it some time. See how you feel before you make any big decisions.”

Since the moment I met her, she’s felt like my big sister. She fit straight into our little family like a missing jigsaw piece. I hope she doesn’t divorce him, but I wouldn’t blame her if she did.