This chapter's a biggie as it has some actual serious plot developments. There is also a sneaky Royle Family reference, if you can spot it. And we're coming closer to the end! Only 3 chapters to go after this one.


27

A revelation for Joey Boswell

'Well, as long as I don't flaunt inappropriate behaviour in front of the staff, they said,' Martina smirked, slipping her arm through Joey's, 'and as long as I don't show partiality where your claims are concerned, they can't well stop me. There's no rule against it.'

Joey grinned, squeezing her close to his side. 'All's well that ends well, eh?'

'That said,' Martina smirked 'you should've seen the look I got from me manager. And Sylvia just about fell out of her chair when I told her.'

'Who?' Joey grinned, getting an elbow in the ribs for his efforts. He'd finally committed Martina's DSS colleague's name to memory, after enough chastisements about it, but he couldn't resist that cross little face of hers when he teased her.

He was flying high again, after another great couple of days.

Since she'd already had the pleasure of a Kelsall Street interrogation, Martina had returned the favour and invited him to meet her family, bringing him along to her parents' flat for Sunday dinner, and after a bit of a false start, it had all gone pretty well. Joey was aware he hadn't made the best first impression when they arrived – dressed in leather with a ponytail and an earring, looking like the sort of person any respectable parents would be wary of entrusting with their daughter – but he'd done his utmost to atone for that where conversation was concerned. He'd realised quickly that as with Martina herself, turning on the charm wouldn't work for them, and so he'd remained sincere, let the side of himself that Martina had fallen in love with, the 'human' side of him, as she called it, the side his family saw, come out as much as possible, and the rest of the day had run smoothly. Martina's Mam was like pressing the fast forward button on Martina twenty odd years, very much like her in appearance and personality, and her dad, though Joey was aware of his tendency to squander money down the betting shop, was great fun to talk to – if Martina's family were to be part of his life, and he of theirs, he couldn't see any major clashes of personality arising, at least.

And piggybacking off that success, on Monday, Martina had made use of a few free minutes at work to inform her colleagues of their relationship, much to Joey's delight. Much as he enjoyed their battles down the DSS, and much as he knew she couldn't give him any preferential treatment, there was something about the DSS being aware of it that really seemed to seal things.

'Look at us two, then,' Joey grinned, squeezing her around the shoulders as she unlocked her flat door. 'Leaping over love's hurdles. My fam-i-ly, your fam-i-ly, the DSS…smoothing the path to happily ever after.'

'You'd think me brother would've bloody well turned up yesterday,' Martina rolled her eyes. 'He was probably down the pub having lost all track o' time. I half expected him to turn up at half eleven legless that night expecting me to take him in.'

The thought of what Martina's brother might have seen if he had turned up at her flat last night made Joey cringe. They'd celebrated pretty vigorously.

'Ah, well. I expect I'll meet him one of these days,' Joey said, taking her bags from her as she pushed open the door.

There was a man in Martina's kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea, his back to them.

Joey started, his fight or flight response wondering whether he should try to shield Martina or get straight into fending off the intruder.

Martina, however, didn't seem startled in the least.

'Sooner than you think,' she murmured, before addressing the unexpected visitor.

'Where the bloody hell did you run off to yesterday?' she called.

'God, I'm sorry, Martina,' came a familiar voice. 'I know you said to come round to Mam and Dad's to meet your fella yesterday, I just lost track of time, but –'

'Lost track of time down the Feathers, was it?' Martina was acerbic.

'Eh, don't be like that. I'm here now, aren't I? Better late than never.'

Martina sighed, shaking her head.

'I suppose that's the best I'm gonna get from you, isn't it?'

The bloke emerged from the kitchen, and his and Joey's eyes locked, shock writ large on his face. Joey's jaw was on the floor as well – thankfully Martina didn't seem to notice.

Bloody hell, now it all made sense. Why his name was familiar, why he had always looked familiar – his eyes were sunken, more bloodshot, brown where hers were blue, but they were Martina's in shape and size. Same chin. Same small ears. God, he'd been an idiot not to see it before. All those invoices, initialled E.H. – he'd never even stopped to consider what the H stood for.

'Evan, this is Joey,' Martina went on, oblivious to their surprise, or their recognition, 'my, er…'

She tailed off, and had Joey not still been reeling, he would have laughed. The word boyfriend always seemed to stick in her mouth; even lover seemed a strain. She used and relationship-defining words sparingly, and with an embarrassed grimace, choosing to tail off and let people infer them instead.

'Joey, Evan, me brother, who must've had more keys cut to this place than he let on.' This last remark was made with a pointed glare in Evan's direction.

The two men shifted awkwardly, and then Evan held out a hand.

Joey hesitated. Admitting they already knew each other would take some explaining, and a bit of glossing-over given the nature of their acquaintance. What was the alternative, though? Pretend they were strangers? Aside from his family and Martina herself, Evan was the person Joey had spent most of his time with over the past few months. They were mates – at least it certainly seemed they had graduated to that stage. They were going into business together.

Martina eyed him. 'What's the matter with you?'

'Funny thing,' Joey began uneasily. Evan shook his head slightly.

Confused, but willing in his addled state to go along with it, Joey corrected himself and took Evan's proffered hand.

'Nothing.' And he turned to Evan, forcing his best smile to come out. 'Greetings. Joey Boswell.'


The atmosphere the next morning was tense, to say the least. Joey and Evan had found premises for their new shop, and had intended to spend the day cleaning it and doing it up, getting as rid of as many of the tobacco stains from the walls and old rubbish from the last tenant as possible, start making it their own space.

Neither had been willing to address the elephant in the room, the inevitable conversation they were going to have to have. Both of them were stilted, painting without looking at each other until Joey could take it no longer.

'Hennessey – your name is Evan Hennessey. You're me girlfriend's brother and you never thought to mention that?!'

'Well you need talk, Joey! Boffing me sister and you never thought to mention that?!'

'I didn't know, did I?!'

'Well neither did I! How would I have known?!'

They glared at each other, though their anger was dissolving as rapidly as it had come on.

And then the two of them burst out laughing.

'Small world, isn't it?'

'You're telling me, mate,' Evan shook his head. 'You're telling me. Well, I'd ask how you met her, but it's self-explanatory. On a claim, were you?'

'Summat like that.' Joey frowned, puzzled by something. 'You said your sister was a secretary.'

Evan shrugged his bony shoulders. 'I said it was something like that. God, I barely knew yer back then; I wasn't going into detail on everything, was I? Usually when me mates find out she's a Social Security bird either I get duffed up or they start askin' for favours. Not that you need to worry about that, eh?'

Joey rolled his eyes.

'Why didn't you want me to tell her I knew yer?'

'I panicked. I mean, it was the last thing I was expecting – me sister starts seeing someone, and it just happens to be the bloke I'm laundering money with? The Lord Almighty knows what she would have thought of that.'

'Think we should come clean to her?'

Evan sucked in a breath of air. 'God, no!'

'Mate, it's lying to her. I don't wanna do that. She's your sister, she's my girl…' Joey screwed his eyes shut. 'I don't wanna do that to her. We can't. Not now we know.'

'She'd rake your balls through a shredder if she found out what we were up to. And as for me, she'd tell our Vera and I'd get the same treatment.'

'She knew summat was up, Evan. The looks she gave us t'other night! Wouldn't it just be easier if we admitted we'd at least met before? I mean, she's gonna know once we get the shop set up, surely?!'

Evan made a face, but Joey persisted.

'We'll keep to the basics. We worked together in the past. Odd jobs and that. She can hardly complain about that. And it's technically the truth.'

'Well,' Evan didn't look fully convinced, 'better than saying Martina, did you know the two of us were up to our necks in laundering money, oh, and by the way, we did that through the businesses we were claiming Incentive Scheme payments from you for?'

'Well, well, Yizzel,' a third voice entered the fray, and Joey and Evan whirled around, the latter nearly dropping his paintbrush. 'Look who we've bumped into. Two old friends.'

Joey shut his eyes, gritting his teeth and taking a breath as Yizzel's predictable echo of old friends, yeah, wafted up behind him.

Yizzel and his mate looked ominous in their shop doorway, lounging against it as if they owned the place, as if they were coming back to claim what was theirs. It shouldn't have really unnerved Joey, given he'd well established during their last encounter that he and Evan held all the power, blackmail-wise – but unnerve him it did, all the same.

'So this is where you've skulked off to, is it?'

'What business is it of yours, gentlemen?' Joey found his voice.

Yizzel's mate stepped in, making a show of casting his eye over their empty shop.

'Nice place you've got here. Nice premises. Very central. Good choice for someone starting up a business.'

He raised his head slowly, giving the two of them a sardonic smile.

'Pity, isn't it, Yizzel, they can't stick to their business arrangements. I'd hate to see this place neglected next time you change your mind.'

'We stuck to the bloody letter –' Evan began ferociously, but Joey cut him off with a hand gesture. They couldn't rise to these bastards – that was just what Yizzel's mate wanted.

'I've come to give you both one last chance. You could do great things with us.'

'Great things. Yeah.'

'So why not stop this play acting at startin' a new business and come back?'

'Sod that for a game of soldiers!' Evan's temper was less easily kept in check than Joey's, and he flicked his paintbrush ferociously at the pair, a splatter of white paint flecking across Yizzel's mate's coat. 'We've 'ad it with you!'

The gov looked down at his sullied clothing, lip curling.

'Not a smart move, was that, Yizzel?'

'Not a smart move.'

'You don't wanna get on the wrong side of me, do they, Yizzel?'

'Wrong side, gov. No.'

'As I have explained,' Joey said calmly, 'you've got nothing on us – and we've plenty on you. So it's not us who's got to be careful, is it?'

'Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that.'

Yizzel's mate smiled, and Joey got a sinking feeling that travelled from his gut right down to his shoes. That was the look of someone who had a trump card to play.

'Interesting conversation we walked in on, wasn't that, Yizzel?'

'Interesting.'

'Funny, to hear such men of principle,' Yizzel's mate walked closer, taking slow, ominous steps until his face was close to Joey's, 'such men of honour deceiving not only the Social Security, but someone so dear to them as their sister.'

'Sister,' Yizzel echoed.

'And girlfriend.'

'Girlfriend. Yeah.'

'Wouldn't she be surprised to find out, Yizzel? How d'you think she'd feel, eh?'

'Cross,' said Yizzel.

'Betrayed,' Yizzel's mate added.

'Heartbroken.'

'Good one, Yizzel. We wouldn't wanna put her through that, would we? But we might have no choice.'

'No choice. Yeah.'

'Unless, of course, you saw your way to having a change of heart. Coming back to work for us.'

Joey's teeth gritted. 'On yer rocket.'

'Joey –' Evan took hold of his sleeve, but Joey shook him off. He would not let them be held for ransom. Every time he got involved with those idiots, they did their utmost to ruin him – he remembered all too well the time they'd rung Roxy's husband, in the hope Stan would duff him up for kissing his wife under a tree. This threat seemed along the same vein – and though Joey knew wearing a fur coat wouldn't save him this time, he'd rather think of a way out of it than have to be stuck with them again.

'Don't be so hasty, Joey. I'm a generous man. I understand that sometimes people can be…overwhelmed by a good offer of employment. So naturally, I'll give you time to mull it over. Three days – and if I haven't heard from you by then, I'll assume my laundering business is bust, and I'll need to pop down to the DSS and collect me giro to tide me over. And while I'm there, I may just have to do my moral duty and tell that poor woman just what her brother and her fella have been doing.'

He tipped his hat.

'Think it over, won't you?'

And the pair of them lurched back off through the door.

'Bastards!' Evan kicked one of their ladders down. 'Well, that's it, isn't it? Our hands are tied.'

'The hell they are!' Joey wasn't taking this lying down. 'Listen, for all those two try and push people about, they're pussy cats when it comes down to it. All we need to do is one up them. They know they've got the upper hand, 'cause we're too scared of Martina finding out to tell on them. We just have to take that out of the equation and we've got the power back again. Okay?'

'I need a drink.'

'Eh – no you don't,' Joey grabbed his arm, veering him away from the door as he started towards it. 'We'll find a way to sort Martina out – but we're not going back, Evan. We can't. We've come too far. If we give in to their blackmail now, they've got us on a leash for life.'

His business partner didn't look convinced, but Joey was adamant.

'We'll just have to be strategic, that's all. Find a way to discredit him and make sure we get to Martina before he does – or find a way to get our upper hand back. We've got three days. By the time he comes to speak to her, we'll have either fended him off or she won't believe him. But we can't back down, or we'll be doin' it forever – okay?'

Evan shook his head. 'Okay. But you'd better think of something good, Joey.'

Joey's mind was already sketching out an ominous march with his brothers down to Occasion Cars, causing a bit of trouble for Yizzel's mate at his front of a respectable job. He just needed to colour in the details a bit.

'Already on it, sunshine. Just gimme til tomorrow and I'll have something.'


Hearing the scrape of chair legs, Martina drained the dregs of her coffee and raised her head.

A well-dressed man was seated at the counter in front of her, turning a trilby around in his hands and fixing her with a smarmy smile.

Oh, good. Another one who can afford the world on a plate, come to plead destitution and bleed the state dry.

She glanced up at the clock. Five to five. Another one who showed no consideration for opening hours, either.

Everywhere I look they're springing up like mushrooms.

'You do realise it's five minutes til closing, don't yer?' she said acidly.

'And that's all the time I need,' his smile was almost sinister, and Martina felt a sense of dread. Whatever he was after, she suspected it was going to leave her department a good sum poorer, and her sanity stretched a good deal thinner.

She folded her hands in resignation.

'Go on, then. What d'you want? Only try to make it quick, won't yer?' she mimed looking at her watch. 'All I've got to look forward to in this life is the moment when me day of drudgery is over and I can pack it in and go 'ome.'

'Oh, wouldn't want to keep yer,' the man's smile stretched without widening – it was almost snakelike now. 'I'm a considerate man, you see, Martina.'

She flinched. 'How'd you…'

'Your reputation precedes yer, sweetheart. In the best possible way, of course.'

Martina wasn't sure what he was playing at, but he sent a shiver down her spine.

'Of course,' she said warily.

'There's no one who can match wits with Martina Hennessey, or so it goes. Everyone round here knows that.'

'And you thought in spite of the odds you'd give it a try, did yer?'

'Oh, I came here to do you a favour. My nature tends towards kindness, you see.'

'This favour you've come here to do me,' Martina tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips, 'does it involve giving me your assistance lifting me pen to a form for you? Because you can save yourself the effort. I'm leavin' here in…three minutes. You'll 'ave to come back tomorrow.'

'Oh, no, like I said. I've not come for anything for meself. I've come purely on a selfless motive, to provide you with some information I think you'll find invaluable.'

'And this information I'll find invaluable,' Martina rolled her eyes, 'it's not to do with your desperate situation of near poverty and the need for a special grant, is it?'

The man laughed, an almost menacing sound.

'It concerns a couple of friends of yours. Good businessmen, you might say. Top of their game. Shocking to hear what they've been involved in. I thought it was me moral duty to let you know, you see.'

Martina blinked in surprise, but she raised an eyebrow. 'Go on.'


'What's this muck, then?'

Joey waved his hand dramatically over Grandad's tray.

'Behold! The culinary triumph of blind scouse, bread and butter, courtesy of next door.'

'I can see what it is!' Grandad flicked Joey's hand away. 'Me body may be doddering about, but me eyes 'aven't gone yet! What's this doing on me tray, passing as me dinner? Me stomach closes up shop when it sees that.'

Joey tittered to himself, handing the tray over. 'I'm sure you'll manage, son. I'm sure you'll manage.'

'Have to, don't I?' the old man made a face of distaste. 'If it's all I've got to tide me over til me pudding comes.'

'That's the spirit, old son!' Joey grinned, and was turning to head back inside when his mobile screeched.

'You'll get radiation from that thing,' he could hear Grandad muttering as he pulled it from his pocket. 'Them things are full of radiation. You'll end up with cancer in the hanky panky department.'

Joey shook his head as he answered.

'Greetings!'

'She knows.'

Joey froze, crushing Grandad's rejected napkin between his fingers. 'What d'you mean?'

'Martina – she knows, Joey!' Evan repeated. 'What the bleedin' 'ell else would I mean?!'

All the blood seemed to drain from his body. This wasn't right – this was not how it was supposed to go. Yizzel's mate had only dished out his threat this morning – they'd planned to recoup tomorrow and get it all sorted, and now…

Now, Joey was aware he was possibly skating on the thinnest ice of his life.

'I've 'ad it from our Vera already – she bumped into Martina earlier. She came home and let me have it – good thing she's gone for a bath and I've got a break from the shrieking.'

'But how did Martina – Jesus, we were supposed to have more time!'

'That's the gov for yer. Gives you an ultimatum then carries out the threat anyway. Just to keep you in line. Remind you not to mess with him.'

Joey pressed the phone harder against his ear.

'And listen – from what I've heard from my missus when she ran into Martina… she was spewing, Joey. She's never seen her so pissed off.'

In the course of this remark, Joey had sprinted across to his car, and he was now fumbling with his keys, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder.

'Christ – we've gotta sort this out.'

'Bit late for that, mate. It's done. Get one last look at yer balls before they've gone. 'Ey up, I'd better go – Vera's coming back for round two.'

No sooner had Evan hung up than his mobile was ringing again. Joey had a sinking feeling he knew who was on the other end; his hand trembled as he answered.

'Hello, yes?'

'I've tried you five times, where have you been?!'

Joey winced.

'Sorry, sweetheart – I was just on – '

'Come round, now.'

'I'm already in me car. Martina –'

'You've got some explaining to do, Mister Boswell. I'll give you five minutes to be at my door.'

And she hung up so ferociously Joey fancied he could hear the clang on her end.


It was with apprehension that he rang Martina's doorbell, a sensation that was simultaneously jittery like a lightning bug under his skin and heavy; a stone in the pit of his stomach. The drive here, though only five minutes long, had seemed like a torturous eternity; Joey had had to force himself to focus on the road, lest his situation distract him and get him into an accident.

She was in the process of biting Evan's head off on the phone when she answered the door, giving him a tongue lashing that didn't bode well for Joey's own reckoning. She snapped her fingers crossly in his direction, pointing aggressively at the sofa, and Joey sat, guts churning with the knowledge that he had until she hung up to compose himself, and then he was in for it.

' – and I've had it with trying to clear up your messes, Evan – time and time again I think this time he'll really mend his ways, and time and time again you let me down… and don't try that pathetic excuse on me again! If Vera doesn't finish you off, I will, and by the time I'm finished there'll be bits of you all over this –'

Joey tried to tune out her rage – it was bad enough knowing you were in trouble, without a preview of what was coming for you next.

Martina hung up even harder than she had before; Joey was almost deafened by it. She whirled round to face him.

'And as for you –'

'I know what you're gonna say,' Joey stood hastily, cutting her off before she could start on him in earnest 'and before you say it, please take into consideration that the bloke that told you had his own self-interest in mind when he did it. It wasn't concern – he was the one making us – '

'I know that,' Martina snapped. 'Funnily enough, I am capable of working these things out for myself.'

'He's out for revenge, he's out to get us,' Joey wheedled. 'He's out to do us harm –'

'Oh, and you need talk about harm, do you?' Martina's voice was thunderous – she could have given his Mam lessons in how to be angry. She could easily have drowned out Nellie's she is a tart refrain, with the added impact of being far more furious, and far less hysterical, her anger far more effective at bludgeoning him. All of a sudden, Joey felt he was five years old again, having misbehaved at school and been sent to the headmistress's office for a ferocious telling-off or worse.

'Not only did you engage in petty crime after insisting you weren't involved in that sort of thing – but you dragged my brother into it!'

Joey held up his hands in surrender.

'Look – I didn't know – I had no idea who he was when I took this job – neither of us did! It wasn't til he came round 'ere that we worked it out! And let's be fair, I didn't drag him into it, he was in it independently and then we just…started…working together,' Joey was aware his eloquence was deserting him, that it was becoming difficult to string together a proper explanation when Martina was looking thunderstruck. He'd never seen her so pissed off at him – not even during some of their crosser exchanges at the Social Security in the olden days.

Not even when she'd phoned him every day to demand he come back from Scotland.

Bloody hell.

'What's the problem?' he tried desperately. 'It's all over now; we've got no intention of going back to it, and…what's the harm that we already knew each other? At least you know we get on!'

A pathetic attempt at a save and Joey knew it – and judging by Martina's face, definitely the wrong thing to say.

'Get on?! Is that what you call it?! Using your businesses to launder money – I might've known you were up to no good, the pair of you…made no sense either of you'd do something respectable. And just to make my joke of a life complete, me brother and me lover weren't satisfied with their own skulduggery – they decided to team up and double it!'

'Listen, it's not as bad as all that –'

Martina's eyes were blazing.

'Not as bad as all that? It's criminal, Joey! You're lucky I don't report you – and not just to my department for committing fraud, but to the police as well! It'd be no less than you deserve. And to add insult to injury, you saw the need to lie to me about it as well.'

'Eh – now that's not fair,' Joey protested, before she could really start tarring him with the same brush as Shifty. 'I never lied to you. I never even told you about it, did I?'

'I presume you've heard of a lie of omission?'

'I…suppose, but…' Joey was really on unsteady footing; all his suavity and ability to think on his feet were disappearing. He wasn't able to defend himself, or even think of what to say.

'And what do your family make of all this? Or have you been deceiving them as well? P'raps I should phone your Mam and find out.' She moved towards her phone again, picking up her receiver. God, she was being vengeful today. She'd already told Evan's wife; he knew she would have no qualms in landing him in it with his family either.

'Oh, come on,' Joey pleaded, a sob in his voice born of desperation. 'You can't. It'd kill Mam.'

'I'm already lying dead in a ditch, but I suppose that doesn't matter, does it?'

'Martina, please! Look, everything I did – everything we both did – it was to help support our families... and get us back on our feet, and…God, I know it wasn't the best thing to do…'

'That's putting it mildly.'

'But…it was only ever meant to be temporary! Look, we ended it – that's why he came after us and told you – because we got out! We don't wanna be involved in all that anymore, that was the whole point! We want to do summat better with ourselves – a proper business, but first we had to –'

'—and what's to stop you goin' back to it the next time the going gets rough?'

Joey's teeth ground. She had a point there; he'd worried about that himself. He had no intention of doing so; he and Evan were agreed; but it wasn't as if he hadn't taken desperate measures before, when times got desperate.

'I,' he hesitated. She was already furious at him for lying; he didn't want to add fuel to the fire by telling another one. 'I don't know.'

Martina's shouting had ceased, but the heavy sigh she let out was worse somehow.

'I might've guessed,' she said quietly. She put the phone down with a clunk, a resignation in her movements that almost frightened Joey.

'I'm going to bed. You're burning through me energy and me sanity faster than I can rebuild it.'

'Okay,' said Joey in a small voice, unsure what his next move was. 'I'll, er…I'll come back tomorrow, and –'

'Oh, no,' in spite of her earlier defeat, she seemed to be revving back up again. 'No you don't.'

The eldest Boswell blinked. 'Eh?'

'Don't you dare go home,' Martina growled, pushing him forcefully back in the direction of the sofa. 'This is far from over, Mister Boswell. And when I have restored my energy, we will be continuing this conversation – at length – at which point you had better have come up with: one, a good explanation, two, an apology and three, an itemised list of the ways you'll be making good the harm you've done me. And not just me – him and yourself as well.'

Joey stumbled backwards onto the sofa, feeling a slap against his side as she threw a blanket at him. Oh, God, he'd been in the doghouse enough times with Roxy that it had become expected by the end, each cold-shouldering taking another nick out of his self esteem. She had a penchant for hitting all his emotional sore spots, sometimes withdrawing her love completely – and Joey had come to dread rocking the boat with her, but also to accept that, no matter how hard he tried, he was going to end up putting his foot in it sooner or later. This was the first time he'd come up against the full force of Martina's wrath, and he had no idea what to expect – how long it'd last, what she'd do, how their reconciliation would play out, if there was one. At least, if being shoved onto the couch for the night was anything to go by, she wasn't finishing with him. Unless she just planned to rage at him some more before driving the final nail into the coffin, and just needed more strength to do that. Wracked with a bout of terror, Joey struggled into a sitting position.

'Listen, sweetheart – I can explain all of it, if you'll just –'

'Not tonight, Joey. I've 'ad enough of you tonight. I love you, Joey, but God, sometimes it's as if you've stuck a nuclear warhead in me brain and pushed the red button!'

She stormed off towards her bedroom.

Joey was still in a mountain of trouble, but he could only focus on one thing she'd said.

'You still…love me?'

Martina hesitated, one foot still in the air.

'Of course I still love you,' her voice was suddenly soft and gentle again. She turned back to him, her face softer as well. 'I'm just angry with you. That is normal, you know. It 'appens.'

'Okay,' Joey said cautiously. 'Right.'

'I'm not Roxy, sweetheart,' Martina moved back in closer, leaning over the sofa and kissing his forehead. He felt her hand brush through his hair, gently reassuring, and closed his eyes.

'I know you're not,' Joey murmured. He reached up slowly, caught her fingers in his own, moved them down to his mouth and pressed a kiss to them. 'I know.'

'That doesn't mean, Mister Boswell,' Martina pulled her hand away, voice stern again, 'that you're not still in trouble. We're going to finish this discussion tomorrow; don't think I'm lettin' you off as easily as that.'

And she was off again, slamming the door behind her.

Joey settled back down, an ambiguous mix of apprehension and relief flowing through his mind and body as he went to sleep.


In spite of how tired she was, Martina hadn't been expecting to sleep much. It was difficult to relax, to lie still, even, with so much anger and frustration pinballing around her brain, and though she'd eventually got a few stretches of fitful shuteye, she still found herself awake and alert at the crack of dawn the next day, still sifting through it all.

It hadn't been hard to work out that, if Joey and Evan were laundering money, the man who'd come to dob them in had been the head of the operation. She'd seen and heard this plenty of times before – disgruntled claimants landing each other in it after some sort of disagreement, clearly involved themselves but trying to blame the other party for the entirety of the fraudulent activity. On these occasions, she automatically wrote them both up and had both sides flagged for investigation.

And though she hadn't been able to bring herself to put in a report on her brother or her lover, Martina had still seen red at the pair of them. It had bowled her over enough to learn they'd known each other (explained how bloody weird they'd both been the other night when they'd 'met') – without adding in the dodgy dealings as well.

But, though she hadn't hesitated to tear Evan a new one, it had only taken seeing Joey so destroyed to have her relenting a little. She was used to seeing him get the violins out and play the pity card down the DSS, but his reaction last night had been anything but manipulative. He'd genuinely been crushed, and she'd barely even laid into him.

His relationship with Roxy had left its claws in Joey in nasty ways – and the wounds went far deeper, she was discovering, than just the trauma of having been left at the altar. The woman had really done a number on him, left him always on unsteady footing as to where they stood, what she would do next – and the after-effects of that lingered on even seven months removed.

Martina was aware Joey walked on eggshells around her half the time, even after the trust they'd built up through their earlier friendship, even after their relationship, in whatever form all these years, had been built on playful arguments. As soon as their lips had touched that first time, something had triggered in him. Though he could still manage arguments in jest, Joey's confidence around her diminished at the first sign of serious trouble; he would become deferential at the drop of a hat, petrified of any real row. He'd have to learn not every argument was a death knell, but it would take a while (and life going on as normal after said row was resolved) before he really took that to heart. This seemed like a good first lesson in what real reconciliation was.

And though she'd wanted to really make him pay for what he'd done, feel her wrath for as long as she could keep it up, she could already feel her resolve on that front slipping from her fingers, replaced with an overwhelming urge to be a bit gentler on him, to let this one go.

After all, was it really the end of the world? She'd always known Joey was involved with devious things; she supposed she shouldn't have been totally shocked. And by both his and Evan's accounts, the dodgy deal was more or less over. Neither wanted to continue on with it. She was disappointed beyond belief with the pair of them, but what was done was done, she supposed. She'd found out after the fact, not during. It wasn't as if there was any way they could undo it.

They knew each other; as Joey had tried to point out yesterday, they got on well enough. She supposed she should be, on some level, pleased about that.

All right. She would let him off, just this once. And in the interest of fairness, she'd forgive Evan too.

But if there were any more slip ups of this nature, she decided, there'd be hell to pay.

She slipped out of bed and padded into the living room.

Joey was still asleep, head resting on the arm of her sofa, arm wrapped around one of her cushions. He looked childlike and lost this way, clutching it to himself as though for comfort, and it made her heart melt, seeing such a picture of vulnerability. It was hard to even remember now that the suave Joey Boswell had been all she'd known, once upon a time, that that wasn't just one facet of a much more complex man. She loved this real one so entirely, so all-consumingly, it seemed a different life when she'd based her attraction purely on the shop-front he put on.

'You little bastard,' she murmured. 'You've got me round your little finger, haven't you?'

Martina smiled, shook her head, gently lifted the blanket and climbed in beside him.

'Hmm,' Joey muttered, disturbed but not properly woken. Martina pressed herself closer, brought her lips to his, kissing him softly, then more firmly as he started to stir.

Joey opened his eyes, made a small, surprised oh noise as he took in their position.

'This is nice,' he whispered against her lips. 'If this is what bein' in trouble off you entails, I'll do it more often.'

'Oh, I wouldn't, if I were you,' Martina pulled back, placed her finger over his mouth. 'Don't think I'll be so lenient next time. This is what bein' given a full pardon – just this once – entails.'

'I'll take that any day,' Joey was more alert, and far more cheerful now. He kissed her again, pulled her closer, more confident now he realised her anger had abated.

'Don't you get cocky, Mister Boswell.'

'Or what, sweetheart? Or what?'

'Oh, I'll show you or what,' Martina shifted herself over him, settled herself on top of him, delighting in his smile of anticipation.

'Must say, sweetheart,' Joey said as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his neck, 'this morning keeps getting better and better.'


They sat together for a long time afterwards, swaddled in the sofa blanket, still tangled together and unwilling, for whatever reason, to break physical contact.

Martina's forgiveness had had an affirming effect on Joey; he was a man renewed, holding her against him as someone clutching a well-earned prize, overjoyed to find her still here. Now his irrational fear of being left had been vanquished, at least for the present time, and Martina's endorphins had been raised enough by sex to temporarily drive away her anger, she felt this was as good a time as any to have a proper, serious discussion about his transgressions, calmly correct some mistakes.

'You really mean to tell me,' Martina said, wrapping a strand of his hair around her finger, 'it never occurred to you who Evan was?'

Joey shrugged. 'Why would I have done? You don't look like him, do you? I mean…now I know, I can see a bit of a fam-i-ly resemblance, but I wouldn't have guessed off the bat.'

She supposed he was right. After all, it wasn't as if he and his Jack or he and his Adrian looked all that alike. The latter two seemed to have inherited more of Nellie Boswell's genes; Joey, facially and in colouring, took after his father.

'And before you ask,' he added, 'I didn't know his surname. I suppose I would've picked it up sooner if I'd realised.'

Martina hummed thoughtfully, stroking down Joey's chest. It was still a lot to take in, to find out the man you'd been in love with for God knows how long had been friends with your brother all along, but she was warming to the idea. Dodgy things aside, of course.

'He's a good bloke, you know,' Joey's voice was soft, apprehensive. 'Your Evan.'

'I know,' Martina snapped too hastily, her instinct to defend him kicking in before her rational side reminded her Joey wasn't like the many others who were quick to write him off. Joey had recoiled; she reached out and stroked his shoulder, an apology; a reassurance.

'I know,' she repeated more gently. 'I'm glad you can see it. A lot of people don't.'

'Because he drinks,' Joey ventured.

'Mm, yeah, that. And he's never really held down a well-paying job; he's always had to make do with something that barely makes ends meet. People look at him, then they look at his kids, and our Vera who works to keep the roof over their 'eads, and…they don't see that he tries, in his way. They just write him off. This was the first time he'd really done well for himself, and…to find out he'd only made it this far because he'd had something dodgy backing him…'

'He wants to make a go of this, you know. We're gonna start a business together and really...and really put our all into it.'

Martina flinched. 'Doing what?'

'Buying and selling things.'

'Buying and selling what? And if it turns out this business is even worse than your last combined venture, and you're dealing in cocaine, or stolen goods –'

'What a high opinion you have of us,' Joey said grumpily. 'As if. Would we have got a premises on the high street if it was black market?'

'You've got another shop?!' This had her surprised. How long had they been planning this business, anyway?

'Technically it's me first. Nonpoisonous is me Dad's – and our Jack'll run it when I've moved on. This one's mine. Well…ours. Mine and Evan's.' He paused, fixing her with an earnest stare. 'We work really well together, Martina. Me and him. Everything I can't do he's got in hand, and…the other way round. Between us we might make one passable legit businessman.'

'Hmm,' Martina raised an eyebrow. 'I could see it going the other way as well. Much as I love you both, you could easily be a bad influence on each other. Bring out the worst in each other. That was me biggest worry introducing yer…and I thought it'd been confirmed when I found you'd been laundering money together. Then again…'

She paused, thinking about it. Come to think of it, the last time Evan had come round hers in a state of inebriation was a couple of months ago now, and the visits had declined in frequency even before that. It had been a while ago, even, she was surprised to realise, since he'd really got himself into trouble for his drinking. Joey's obnoxious claims had become fewer and further between; his ability to keep himself from running after his family had improved as well. And perhaps it was a coincidence, but if what Joey was saying was true, whatever venture they were doing together seemed to be grounding them, keeping them away from their respective vices.

'All right, Mister Boswell,' she sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'All is forgiven. But you'd better not be pulling my leg about this serious business of yours. I want to see you make a proper go of this and commit to it. No giving up after a couple of months and scrounging. And no laundering – or I'll hunt the both of you down and when I'm finished scattering bits of you about the place, you won't be able to tell whose guts are whose.'

Joey chuckled in spite of the threat. 'You do that, sweetheart. You do that.'

'Geroff now; I wanna get up.' She disentangled herself from him. 'I need a shower before work.'

Joey grinned.

'Don't suppose you need any help, do you?'

'I've always managed on me own up til now,' Martina shot back, though she was biting on her lip to keep a smile at bay.

'Not the same, though, is it? Making do with do-it-yourself…when you've got the offer of a personalised service.'

Cheeky little bastard; he was clearly back to his old self now – and that, though she had things to get on with, was irresistible.

'You know,' Martina purred, 'you want to watch out, Mister Boswell. I granted you clemency as it was.'

Joey's eyebrows rose, just as she knew he would automatically rise to this challenge, such was his way of operating.

'Maybe I feel like pushin' me luck.'

Her mouth contorted.

'Maybe you should.'

And then he'd sprung up from the sofa, taking her face in his hands and kissing her.

'Maybe I will.'


It might just be leftover relief from earlier, but Joey was feeling oddly good. There was something at peace inside him. The family breakfast around him was chaotic, Billy shovelling food, Jack seeking refuge from a row with the heavily pregnant (and irritable) Leonora and immediately falling into the trap of engaging Billy's gob in daft conversation, his Mam shrieking at his Dad over the phone, undoubtedly because she had been expecting a thank-you-esque call from someone else. And yet, while months ago this would have irked him no end, it did nothing but endear the eldest Boswell.

Everything seemed to be going his way again. Martina had forgiven him for the money laundering; Yizzel and his mate now had nothing on him and Evan at all. And given they had gone ahead and fired an unwarranted warning shot, not even sticking to their own ultimatum, Yizzel and his mate were going to get what was coming to them. Joey and Evan had consolidated all their blackmail against the pair over the phone as soon as he got home, and already had a couple of petty revenges lined up, with the promise of more if the two bastards didn't leave them alone from now on. His family were above water. He was above water (figuratively, given he'd literally been under it an hour ago). There wasn't a cloud in his sky at present, and he was enjoying the sunshine.

'And why are you so serene and quiet?' Jack demanded, though he was smirking lasciviously. 'Or do we need ask? Damp hair, self-satisfied smile – must be nice to be you, all loved up and gettin' your sordid showers in while the rest of us deal with the everyday problems of life.'

A few months ago, this would have rubbed Joey up the wrong way. He had been, after all, so preoccupied with the everyday problems of life (particularly other people's) that his sanity had been stretched thin. Now, though, his brother was right. It was his turn to sit around dazed and in love for a change – some well-earned peace after years putting it on the backburner to deal with the family paraphernalia.

'And about time, eh? Been a long time since I had a go with the sordid serenity.'

He shrugged cheerfully, tucking into his eggs.

Jack chuckled. 'Fair play.'

'Aw, hey!' Billy's head inclined rapidly, a mushroom falling out of his mouth. 'When I 'ad a shower at Julie's, you wouldn't leave off about it! We're family, you said. We know hanky panky when you see it, you said!'

Joey smirked. 'This coming from the master of hanky panky himself!'

It was meant to be a tease, but Billy's face lit up at this.

'I'm the master,' he said smugly to himself.

'Eh – what d'you go and say that for?' Jack elbowed Joey. 'His 'ead's already the size of a hot air balloon. Any bigger and it'll explode – hundreds will be killed in the aftermath!'

But Joey was miles away in his head, thinking about the feel of his fingers in Martina's wet hair and steam against his skin, and he couldn't have cared less.