Stepping Up by Linda Tweedie

Author:Linda Tweedie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fledgling Press
Published: 2017-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

It was most unusual for Bridget to be alone in the house. Erin had taken the boys off to playschool so she had the luxury of a couple of hour’s peace and quiet. Spoke too soon, she sighed, as the noise of tyres screeched to a halt on their drive. This was followed by the crash of her front door being booted in. Bridget dived for the iron poker lying in the fire grate.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Bridget yelled at the figure standing in her kitchen.

“The same game you and the other two witches played out yesterday, frightening my wife half to death.”

“She seemed to take our visit quite well, I thought, although the prospect of losing her house and visiting you in the nick seemed a bit disconcerting for her.”

“Don’t be so fucking naïve, Bridget. Do you really think a few snaps are going to do my career any harm?”

“Yes, I do. I think they’ll do you an immense amount of harm. How, may I ask, are you going explain the lifestyle you enjoy?”

“Have you never heard of inheritance? My wife was left a considerable sum of money from an old aunt, not that I need to explain myself to you.”

“What about the photographs of you taking money from a well-known businessman?”

“The pictures show someone receiving a package. You interpret it as Paddy giving me a handout. I, on the other hand, say Paddy is on the receiving end.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, why would Paddy be taking money from you?”

“What’s ridiculous about it? Have you never questioned how Paddy has managed to stay at the top all these years? Eliminating all his competitors and never getting a tug?”

“Cos’ he pays guys like you.”

“Jesus, woman, he’d have to bribe the whole of the fucking Strathclyde Police Force. No, my dear, that’s not the answer. Your husband, the illustrious Patrick Coyle, is a lowlife grass. In fact, he’s worse than that, he’s a supergrass. If that fact were to become public knowledge, Paddy Coyle wouldn’t make it to trial. Every con in Barlinnie would be baying for his blood.”

“You’re lying,” screamed Bridget. “You’re a lying bastard! Paddy would never grass anyone.”

“I may well be lying, but you’ll never know and I doubt he’ll get the opportunity to prove his innocence.”

“I’ll shop you. I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re bent. You’ve got as much to lose as we have.”

“Sour grapes, Bridget. It’ll be simply put down to sour grapes. So, you tell my pal Paddy to keep his mouth shut and do his bird like a man and we’ll forget this little contretemps.” He turned on his heel and left as quickly as he’d come.

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