Duality (15 page)

“I’m starving,” complained Jules as they left the shopping centre in Torquay. “I can’t stop eating and when I’m not eating I’m throwing up. At least I shouldn’t put on too much weight.”

“We’ll stop by The Lighthouse.”

“What’s that?”

“A restaurant we own.”

“Just one of many,” said Jules, smiling at Rachel’s casual tone. “Do they do snails? I’m gagging for a plateful.”

“Urgh, snails?”

“Normally I hate them but I’ve got a weird craving for them. Snails with spaghetti topped with sugar.”

“I suppose the chef could make them, if I pay him extra.”

“Great. My mouth’s already watering.”

By the time they arrived at the restaurant the last customers for the afternoon were just leaving. The restaurant shut at four then re-opened again at seven for the evening service. Only one waitress was on duty - Emily.

“Hello Emily,” smiled Rachel, nodding to the customers.

“Hello Rachel,” she replied sweetly.

Emily looked expectantly past Rachel to the figure who followed her inside, disappointed to see it was a woman in a black leather jacket.

Jules noted the disappointment in her eyes and gave her a hard look, interpreting Emily’s thoughts perfectly. Emily hastily retreated to clear a table of dirty plates and cutlery.

“How long has she worked for you?” Jules asked Rachel, nodding at Emily.

“Err, about four months,” replied Rachel, looking over the bookings for that evening. “Why?”

“I’d watch my back if I were you.”

Rachel looked up at her with concern. “Why?”

“I think she has a thing for Ryan.”

Rachel smiled. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“It might be more obsessive than a little crush.”

“How do you know? You’ve only just met her.”

“Don’t forget I’m a genius.”

“Even genius’s can be wrong.”

“No we can’t, ask Ryan. Just watch yourself, okay?”

Rachel was concerned by how serious she was. “Okay, I will.”

Jules’s grin returned. “Great. Now we’ve got that sorted can we sort out my snails? I’m wasting away here.”

“I’ll have a word with the chef.”

Jules slumped at a table, annoyed by how drained she was feeling, she was used to being full of strength, bouncing around with energy but this baby felt to be sucking the life out of her. She ran a hand across her abdomen and smiled. Still, it was worth it.

“The chef said he’ll do it,” said Rachel, exiting the kitchen. “But I had to pay him extra. He said such a meal would offend him.”

“Chefs are such drama queens. You see them on the telly getting stressed over a pie. I hope he’s not one of these chefs who dish up a plate of really tiny food covered in green crap?”

“Do you mean garnish?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Load of rubbish. Just gets in the way of the real grub.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that, I think he’ll snap.”

“He should get over himself, prima donna,” said Jules, eyes narrowing when Emily approached the table.

“Shall I get you some drinks?” said the girl.

“Yes please Emily,” said Rachel graciously. “We’ll both have mineral waters.”

“But I want a beer…oh,” sighed Jules.

“We do have non-alcoholic lager, if you like?” said Emily.

Jules scowled at her. “Don’t insult me.”

“Mineral water’s fine for us both,” Rachel told Emily with an apologetic smile.

Jules watched Emily move about the room, executing her duties but she was quite sure she was attempting to listen in on their conversation, hoping to overhear a snippet about Ryan.

Fifteen minutes later a little bell rang from inside the kitchen and Emily went to retrieve Jules’s food. She exited the kitchen carrying a steaming plate of garlic snails accompanied by spaghetti covered in sugar, head tilted back in an attempt not to inhale the smell.

“That’s the stuff,” grinned Jules, clapping her hands together. She picked up her knife and fork, eyes lighting up as the plate was placed before her. “That looks bloody great.”

“You sure?” said Rachel, grimacing. “It stinks.”

“But the taste is out of this world.” She dug a snail out of its shell and stuffed it into her mouth, eyes sliding shut in appreciation. “Bliss. What?” she added when Rachel’s grimace increased.

“How can you eat that?”

“Because this place serves the best snails in the country.”

“It must be the pregnancy, it’s the only explanation.”

“Must be, I never liked them before but now I can’t get enough,” she said, extracting a second snail from its shell.

Rachel looked to Emily, who was also grimacing. “Has Malcolm gone?”

“Yep, he was in a bit of a huff.”

“Who’s Malcolm?” mumbled Jules through a mouthful of snail.

“The chef,” replied Rachel, trying not to look at her mouth. “Why don’t you get yourself off home,” she told Emily. “I’ll lock up here and you’ve seen enough grossness for one day.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll just get my stuff.”

As Emily disappeared into the back to retrieve her bag and coat, the door opened and in walked two men.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” said Rachel.

“Fucking right you are sweetheart,” said one of the men, turning the sign to closed and bolting the door while his friend pulled the blind.

Rachel frowned. She’d never seen this pair before. They were only young, probably early twenties, both dark haired and quite thin and slender. It struck her that they were probably brothers. They both wore black hooded jumpers, blue denim jeans and white trainers. The one on the right however had a large and rather crude spider tattooed on his neck. Instinct told Rachel they weren’t here for food.

Jules picked up on this too because she leaned back in her chair, clasped her hands behind her head and grinned. “Who are this pair then?”

“I have no idea,” said Rachel.

“Didn’t think so.”

“What do you want?” Rachel asked them.

There was a knock at the door and one of the men smiled and put his finger to his lips before unlocking it. Two more men slipped inside and the door was locked again.

“Get out of my restaurant,” said Rachel, getting to her feet.

“I bet you wish you had your taser now you bitch,” said one of the dark-haired men.

So these were the men from the other night, the ones she’d kicked the arses of single-handed, well, with the help of her car and taser. Neither of which she had now.

“So these are the kids you battered, are they Rach?” grinned Jules.

“She didn’t batter us, she was lucky,” exclaimed one of the men, a blond boy who looked to still be in his teens.

“Oh yeah? Then explain your limp,” said Jules cheerfully.

The blond boy gaped at her. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m her sister-in-law. Ryan Law’s sister.”

“If you think that’s going to scare me it doesn’t.”

“Then you’re a thick bastard.”

“Listen you fu…”

They all went silent when Emily reappeared, shrugging on her jacket. “Right, that’s me off then.” She froze when she saw the four men. “Who are they?”

“They’re just leaving,” said Rachel. “If they’ve any sense.”

The dark haired man with the spider on his neck and who seemed to be the leader smirked. “We’re your worst nightmare gorgeous.” His smile dropped when Jules laughed. “Did I say something funny?”

“Yeah.
Your worst nightmare.
It’s like something out of a bad film.”

“Well it’s true, alright?” he yelled. He looked to Emily. “And you sugar are going nowhere. We’re going to have ourselves a little party.”

Jules laughed again. “What did you do, buy a book of tacky bad guy lines?”

“You’ve got a big fucking gob,” he yelled at her.

“You have no idea,” said Rachel.

“Listen,” snapped the man. “The point is, we’re here to teach you a fucking lesson for spoiling our fun the other night.”

Rachel and Jules looked blasé while Emily shook with fear. This pleased the men, it was the reaction they wanted and were used to. The leader took some of her hair between his fingers and leaned into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Mmm, pretty.”

“Leave her alone,” said Rachel.

He relinquished Emily to spin back round to face Rachel, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “And you are the big prize. I know all about you.”

“And you’re still here. Are you thick or something?”

“You’re not gangsters anymore, you’re nothing. You had it all once and you gave it up to live like mugs, working and paying taxes. And your husband would pay a lot to get you back.”

“Yes he would,” she said, causing him to frown as her eyes turned jet black. “Then he’d kill every single one of you.”

“He could try.” The man whipped back round to face Jules when she laughed again. “I’m fucking sick of you already.”

“Like I’ve not heard that before,” she smiled. Her grin fell when he knocked her plate to the floor, spattering food everywhere. “The snails,” she exclaimed.

The men started to laugh inanely, thinking how clever their leader was for knocking a plate of food on the floor while Jules glared at them with the fury of hell in her eyes.

“You really shouldn’t have left the knife on the table,” said Rachel.

Before the leader could ask why, Jules had snatched it up and slammed it into his hand, which had been resting on the table.

He and his gang all went silent, staring at the knife sticking out of his hand in appalled horror before the leader roared with pain, attempting to lift his hand but unable to because it was pinned to the table.

“Oh Christ,” he cried, suddenly not so tough. “Get the bitch,” he yelled, nodding at Jules.

Jules leapt up and kicked the other dark haired man in the face while Rachel head butted the blond one. With those two lying unconscious on the floor the fourth man backed up to the door, has jaw hanging open, attempting to puzzle out how it had gone wrong so quickly. Deciding it would be better to run he frantically yanked at the door, forgetting it was locked.

“Oh bless, he’s scared,” said Jules.

Emily stood at the back of the room, not daring to move, her mouth hanging open.                                                                  

The boy pressed himself back against the door as the two women closed in on him, only put out of his misery when Rachel punched him in the jaw, knocking him out.

With that they both rounded on the leader, his hand still pinned to the table,  frantically trying to pull out the knife.

“Here, let me,” said Jules, grasping the hilt with one hand and yanking it out.

He squealed in agony and slid to the floor, Rachel and Jules standing over him, staring down at him coldly.

“I hate amateurs,” said Jules before kicking him in the face, knocking him out cold.

“Oh my God,” whispered Emily, wrapping her arms around herself and shaking.

“Don’t get yourself worked up,” said Jules. “We were never in any danger.”

“But…but…”

“Go home Emily,” said Rachel.

“I can’t just go,” she exclaimed. “The police might want to talk to me.”

“You don’t need to worry about them.”

The cold blackness of Rachel’s eyes as she stared at the fallen men chilled Emily to the core. Of course she’d heard all the rumours about her employers but this was the first time she’d actually seen it in the flesh and it freaked her out. “I’m gone,” she said.

“Good girl,” said Rachel, still not looking her way.

Clutching her bag and jacket, Emily hurried out the back way then hesitated. Here was an opportunity not to be missed. She pulled open the back door and let it bang shut before ducking into the supply cupboard.

“Right, what are we going to do with this little lot?” said Jules. “A bit of torture? How do you want to go, modern day or my personal favourite - medieval?”

“I want to find out if there’s any more of them,” said Rachel, nudging at the blond man with the toe of her shoe. “Then we’ll call the police.”

“Police?” said Jules, looking disgusted. “You can’t be serious.”

“Perfectly. We are respectable business people now.”

“Who like indulging in a bit of torture now and then?”

“Well, I can’t give up all my vices,” said Rachel, her smile icy.

“You are one fucking awesome sister-in-law babe,” grinned Jules.

“Why thank you.”

“Shall we bring Battler and Bruiser in on this? Get them flexing their very impressive muscles.”

“I don’t want them involved.”

“But I like watching them work.”

“Sorry. Anyway, I’m sure we can handle this pile of shites.”

Jules smiled maliciously. “You bet we can.”

Rachel picked up a jug of water and a very sharp steak knife and threw the water over the leader, who woke up with a gasp, eyes widening to see Rachel Law standing over him with a knife.