Wistful Whispers (Greenview Manor Tales #4)

1. Prologue

Prologue

Twelve-years ago

Jake

T he muscles in my legs are burning, as are my lungs from the cold air I’ve been greedily sucking in. I just need to get to the next corner then I can rest for a second. The streetlight has been knocked out so the darkness provides some cover for me.

I lean against the cold house wall, panting. At the end of the road to my left I see a light falling through a window in the otherwise dark street. At two in the morning most people are asleep, but not my brother or his gangmates. I pull my hood lower and spy around the corner down the road I’ve just come from. Nothing.

If the police are following me, they’re not making it obvious. I know it’s stupid because I might be leading them directly to Sean but I have to at least warn him that they’re onto them and I can’t trust that our phones aren’t being monitored.

When five Met police officers turned up at our family’s flat earlier this evening we didn’t say much. I could see that my mum’s heart was breaking when she found out Sean was still involved with drugs, but she cussed the police nevertheless. Growing up in the same East London estate we live in now meant that she learned to distrust the police early on. There is no love lost between the diverse community and the Met police.

Of course I knew what Sean was up to. He’s my baby brother after all.

Can you call a twenty-four-year-old, fifteen-stone lad a baby brother? Maybe not, but for me he’s always been someone I need to look out for since Mum placed the tiny baby in my arms when I was just three years old. We’ve been through too much together. I hate that he’s chosen the dark side of drugs and crime. I’ve begged him to give it up and even offered him a job at the gym I’m working at. But he just couldn’t walk away from a life with easy access to money. I still wouldn’t give him up to the Met. And even if I wanted to, snitching on these gangs isn’t something you do lightly—not if you value your life or the safety of your family.

I take another deep breath and sprint the remaining few metres to the house with the illuminated windows. I hear mumbled voices when I knock on the door, then nothing but silence.

“Sean, it’s me,” I call out and knock again.

The door swings open and strong arms pull me in.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” a harsh voice barks and I’m pushed into the living room. I lose my footing and crash to the floor.

“Stop it, Grant!” Sean shouts, before helping me back to my feet. “What are you doing here?” he asks me concerned. He knows I wouldn’t have come if something wasn’t seriously wrong.

“The Old Bill was over at the flat earlier. Asked me and Mum a thousand questions about you and—”

“Fuck. And you thought the best thing to do would be to lead the rozzers straight to us?” Grant barks at me. “Twink, check the street,” he demands from a skinny looking guy with greasy hair.

“I’m not stupid. Nobody followed me,” I reply stubbornly, even though I really can’t be sure. What do I know of police surveillance? Nothing.

“You knobhead wouldn’t know that they’re onto you if they crawled up your arse.” That latest bark from Grant makes Sean and the fourth member, a bold guy with crooked, yellow teeth, snort.

“Can’t see anyone,” Twink replies, sounding almost bored as he slouches back into the living room.

“Sean, you need to come home,” I try to convince him to leave with me. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until the police find their hide out. The questions they asked me earlier made me realise that they must have been watching the gang for a while.

“Hey, brother, what do you think this is? A kids birthday party? Sean works for me. He can’t just saunter off into the sunset because you’re shitting your pants. We have deals lined up so you can fuck right off!” Grant glares at me. His eyes are the epitome of evil, setting off a ball of fear in my stomach.

“Sean?” I plead but who am I kidding. Did I really think Sean would just come home with me?

“Jake, go home. I won’t be long. We’ll talk when I’m back.”

“Yes, Jake , go home to mummy,” Grant tries to provoke me. I could easily take him. I’m a fitness trainer and tower over him by at least six inches. But before I can even consider that he casually opens a drawer and pulls a gun out and directs it towards me. My heart starts racing.

“Put the gun down,” my brother hisses and positions himself between me and Grant.

“I think it’s time for him to leave. And if I see his face again or if find out he opened his big gob you won’t be able to help him.” Grant stares my brother down before lowering the gun and leaving the room.

“You shouldn’t have come!” Sean paces the room.

“Sean—” I don’t get to finish my sentence as there’s a loud bang from the front door. Before I can even move, the door flies open and chaos descends around us. Shouts echo around me, accompanied by the thunder of heavy boots storming in; the noise is so overwhelming, I can barely make out what everyone is yelling.

My heart’s racing and I freeze, too scared to do anything. The people who burst in are all in black, helmets, masks, guns, the lot—I can’t tell if they’re police or something worse. They barge past me, pushing me to the floor and shouting for everyone to stay down. Twink and the guy with the crooked teeth end up lying next to me but I can’t see Sean. I try to turn my head but the guy pinning me to the floor shouts at me and pushes my face into the carpet. Panic rises in me and I can’t think straight.

“I have nothing to do with this. I was here to talk to my brother,” I try to explain myself but it sounds ridiculous and nobody pays any attention to me. There is a lot of commotion coming from the back of the property.

“Get down, drop the gun, and get down,” I hear someone shout. “Get. Down!”

“Sean, do what they say,” I scream in the hope my brother hears me even if I don’t know if they’re even talking to him or Grant, who I can’t see either.

“Drop the weapon,” a harsh female voice shouts. And then there’s more shouting. I feel so hopeless, pinned to the floor with no way of seeing what’s happening. No way of helping Sean.

“Drop the—” The person doesn’t finish the sentence. A gunshot echoes through the night. And then a second one. Then there’s silence. Just for a second—but I don’t know what’s happened and that makes the second feel like an eternity. Then the chaos resumes.

"Control, this is Alpha team. All suspects have been secured we have one male suspect down with a gunshot wound. Requesting immediate ambulance to our location, over. Suspect is conscious, bleeding heavily, wound to the lower abdomen. Officers are administering first aid. Over."

When I hear the words, my heart starts beating faster . Please don’t let it be Sean, please don’t let it be Sean.

“Who is it? Who did they shoot?” I try to get the policeman who is securing me to talk but he just ignores me. Out of nowhere some heavy boots stop in front of me.

“Get him up,” a voice orders. Two men put me back on my feet and I’m faced with the inspector who questioned me earlier at mum’s place.

“I’m sorry, Jake. It doesn’t look good.” He appears genuinely remorseful, but in this moment, all I want to do is punch him in the face. I’m led to the back of the house where two police officers are trying to stop the bleeding from Sean’s stomach.

My legs feel weak and I collapse to the floor next to him. I cradle his head carefully.

“Sean, just hang in there. Please hang in. For Mum. Please,” I whisper. He briefly gives me a weak smile but I can see in his eyes that the life is slowly draining out of him.

“Sean, please.” Tears are streaming down my face. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t come here they wouldn’t have followed me.

“I love you, baby brother,” I whisper just as I feel him slipping away.