A Family Divided (Dividing Line #3) Read online

  A Family Divided

  By Heather Atkinson

  Copyright Heather Atkinson 2013

  CHAPTER 1

  Martina’s Bar was packed as usual however, unlike every other night, tonight was comprised only of the Maguires and their friends. Invitation only. It was Martina’s sixtieth birthday and she was having a riot. Popping a bottle of champagne, she directed the resulting spray at Gary, one of the hunkier members of the bar staff. His shirt was soaking wet and see-through within seconds. Martina screeched with laughter, as did her three best friends gathered round her.

  Rachel watched with a smile as Alex quietly whispered in his mother’s ear in an attempt to calm her down.

  “Bugger off you prude, it’s my party,” Martina retorted before pouring out the champagne.

  Poor Alex. He could strike fear into the hearts of the hardest men in Manchester, but he was cowed by his old mum. However, since Frank and Danny’s deaths he’d been even more protective of her. Woe betide anyone who hurt Martina Maguire.

  As always, Rachel experienced a twinge of pain at the thought of Danny. She missed him, she always would, even though life was now so good.

  Her husband’s arms snaking around her waist dispelled the gloom and she smiled.

  “Gary’s looking doomed already,” said Ryan.

  Rachel watched as Martina attempted to unbutton her bartender’s sodden shirt, a mortified Alex looking on.

  “She’s only playing. She wouldn’t do anything with a lad young enough to be her grandson.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he replied when Martina went for Gary’s pants.

  “Right, I think it’s time I rescued him,” she smiled.

  She turned to kiss Ryan on the lips then took his hand and together they walked through the crowd towards them.

  “Come on Gary, the glasses are piling up and the bar’s nearly run out. Get your finger out,” Rachel told him good-naturedly.

  “Yes Rachel, sorry,” he said, flashing her a grateful smile before making his escape.

  She turned her attention to Martina. “Are you trying to lead my staff astray?”

  Martina grinned and handed her a glass of champagne. “You know me, I’m only messing about. Get that down your neck, you too Ryan love.”

  “Thank you,” he politely replied, accepting the glass.

  “Are you enjoying your evening?” Rachel asked her.

  “I haven’t had so much fun in ages, you’ve done me proud Sweetheart,” replied Martina, patting her on the cheek with a hand draped in gold jewellery.

  “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

  “How are my grandkids?”

  “Good. They’re with the nanny.”

  Martina hadn’t approved of them hiring a live-out au pair but eventually Adela, the sweet tubby blond Polish girl, had gained her approval.

  “So, when are you going to give me more grandbabies?” said Martina, flashing them both a naughty smile.

  “We’re working on it,” replied Rachel.

  “I bet you are. Your husband’s bloody gorgeous.”

  When Martina’s friends all nodded in agreement and started to surround Ryan, Rachel led him away to join Alex watching from the bar.

  “She’s really letting loose tonight,” Rachel told Alex.

  He just nodded, his eyes fixed on his mum.

  “I’m going to have to get bodyguards for my bar staff,” she continued.

  “Yeah,” he replied distractedly, seeming a little irritated.

  Rachel frowned. Alex had been really short with her lately and she didn’t know why. She’d tried talking to him about it but she’d just met with blunt denial. She was hoping this lavish party she’d put on for his mum would go some way to getting her back in his good books, but there was still annoyance in his eyes when he looked at her. She’d questioned Beth - Alex’s wife and her best friend - about his sudden turn in attitude, but she’d denied all knowledge. However her friend had recently given birth to their third child, who kept her up all hours so she probably hadn’t noticed. But Rachel knew it wasn’t her imagination because Ryan had remarked on it too and it was causing discord between the two men.

  “Rachel worked really hard on making tonight a success,” said Ryan, eyes narrowing at Alex.

  “Yeah, I know,” he replied distractedly, still keeping an eye on his mum.

  “You could at least say thank you,” pressed Ryan.

  Alex shook himself out of it and drew his gaze from Martina to Rachel. “Sorry, you’re right. I appreciate what you’ve done tonight. She’s having a great time,” he said, gesturing to his mum. He grinned and kissed the top of Rachel’s head, looking so much like his old self she was reassured.

  Rachel smiled back, patted him on the arm and wandered off with Ryan, their arms around each other, Rachel resting her head on his shoulder. Alex’s smile fell, the loathing he’d felt for the pair of them ever since he’d discovered their secret a few weeks ago welling up inside him, a secret that had destroyed all the trust he’d had in them both. Now that trust was transforming into a slow burning hate but as yet he didn’t know what he was going to do about it.

  Rachel and Ryan came to an abrupt halt when a redhead almost ran into them in her haste for the exit.

  “Jennie, what’s the matter?” said Rachel.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she huffed, face bright red, a sure sign she was angry. Jennie worked behind the bar in one of Mikey’s nightclubs and they had been dating for a number of months. Mikey had a thing for redheads and she was extremely pretty, her hair so straight it looked like it had been ironed, a pouty mouth, freckles across her nose and glittering hazel eyes. She also had a hellish temper. When she wasn’t angry Rachel really liked her but when she was in a temper, which was often, Rachel lost patience with her because her rage was normally aimed at Mikey.

  “He’s been flirting again,” she said, jabbing a lethally long nail in Mikey’s direction, who was making his way over to them.

  Although he was a bit of a tart, Rachel knew Mikey wouldn’t dare flirt with Jennie in the vicinity. “Are you sure?”

  “Course I am, I saw him. It was one of Martina’s friends.”

  Rachel looked at Ryan and they both laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” sulked Jennie.

  “Martina’s friends are all over sixty,” replied Rachel.

  “Doesn’t matter. If it’s female with a pulse he’ll shag it.”

  “Jennie, think about how this sounds,” said Rachel, trying to keep a straight face. “Do you think Mikey would ever go there with a pensioner?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, one foot tapping an agitated staccato.

  Finally Mikey made it through the crowd. “I wasn’t doing anything Jennie, honest. I was only talking to them.”

  “After a bit of granny action, are you?” smiled Ryan

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” muttered Mikey before turning back to his girlfriend. “I’ve known Barbara for ages, she’s a friend of Martina’s, who’s practically my mum. That makes Barbara my second mum.”

  “I don’t know why I’m with you Mikey Maguire. All you do is make a fool of me and I’m sick of it.”

  “Aw, come on Babe, don’t be like that.”

  “We’ll leave you to it, shall we?” said Ryan, leading Rachel away.

  “You don’t have to go.”

  Rachel just gave Mikey an apologetic look as she followed Ryan. Looking back she saw Jennie launch into a fresh tirade at him.

  “He really should dump her,” said Ryan.

  “She’s nice when she’s not shouting at him.”

  �
��She’s always shouting at him. He ought to put her in her place.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me? Put her in her place?”

  “Bad choice of words,” growled a deep voice.

  “Battler,” beamed Rachel, going up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m so glad you made it. Is Bruiser here too?”

  “Yes,” he replied, gesturing towards the bar where his brother was standing listening to Jez talk. Bruiser nodded at her and raised his glass in a silent toast but everything Bruiser did was silent, he was a man of few words.

  Battler and Bruiser had opened their own security company in Manchester, which had done so well they’d opened another branch in Birmingham. They’d spent three months down there setting it all up and made a concerted effort to be back in Manchester for the sixtieth birthday of the widow of the man who had taken them off the streets when they were teenagers hell bent on self destruction and given them jobs and a future. The brothers were wanting to take early retirement and go into legitimate business after seeing how good a job Rachel and Ryan had made of it. Battler, the eldest brother, wasn’t far off sixty himself and wanted to get out of the game before he got arrested or worse and his brother agreed. Now they’d got their certificates and specialised in training up security guards and doormen, as well as event security, facilities management and surveillance services. Nothing had stood in their way because, despite their years of mayhem and murder, neither of them had a criminal record. Even though they were well known to the Manchester Police for being affiliated with the Maguires, on paper they were squeaky clean, which they found hilarious.

  Ryan shook Battler’s hand. He hadn’t always seen eye to eye with the brothers, but over the years a mutual respect had developed between them and they were now on friendly terms. “Are you here to stay?”

  “Yes, for a while at least. We’ll need to go back to Brummie land in a few months to check on things. Alex has got some work for us,” replied Battler in his deep base.

  Rachel didn’t ask what. She wasn’t a part of that world anymore.

  “He doesn’t look happy,” commented Battler as a sulky Mikey approached. When he saw Battler he broke into a smile.

  “Alright Mate?” said Mikey, shaking his hand. “Good to have you back.”

  “Is that Mikey Maguire, you little bastard?” called a voice tinged with a heavy southern Irish accent.

  Frowning, the four of them turned to see a figure approaching, a big grin on his face.

  “Declan,” smiled Mikey, racing up to the man and hugging him tightly, the two men clapping each other on the back.

  “Who’s that?” said Rachel.

  “Declan Maguire, from the Dublin branch of the family,” replied Battler.

  Frank Maguire had an Irish grandfather whose sexual potency was legendary and had kids all over Ireland, consequently the Maguires had a lot of Irish cousins. The families weren’t close, Rachel hadn’t met any of them in all the time she’d known the Maguires. Unlike their Mancunian counterparts they were law-abiding, apart from Declan and his two younger brothers, who had started making tentative steps into the criminal underworld. She guessed that was why Declan was here. Like most of the Maguire men he was handsome with dark hair and brown eyes that reminded her of Frank.

  “Declan, this is Rachel,” said Mikey.

  “Hello,” said Declan, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. “I’ve heard all about you but until now I didn’t realise how gorgeous you are.”

  “This is her husband, Ryan,” Mikey hastily added.

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Ryan icily.

  “Husband? What a waste,” he grinned.

  Mikey and Rachel couldn’t help but smile, however Ryan’s gaze was hostile.

  “What are you doing here?” said Mikey.

  “I wouldn’t miss Aunt Martina’s sixtieth. Where is the game old bird? There she is,” he said, stepping forwards.

  “Declan,” shrieked Martina, delighted to see him. She threw her arms around his neck and showered him with kisses.

  “Did you know he was coming?” Rachel asked Mikey.

  “No, I haven’t seen him for a few years. We used to be close when we were kids, Mum took us to Ireland during the summer holidays every year.” When his smile faltered Rachel knew he was thinking of the mum who had betrayed him in the worst possible way by setting him up to take the fall for horrible crimes committed by his older brother.

  “Is he just here for the party?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s wanting to branch out.”

  “That’s enough information,” said Ryan.

  “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re out of the business,” he replied.

  Rachel watched as Declan chatted with Martina, who thrust a glass of champagne at him.

  “He was at Frank’s funeral, wasn’t he?” she asked Mikey.

  “Yes, along with his two brothers and their dad.”

  She couldn’t recall seeing the rest of them, she’d been distracted from the other guests by the return of Danny, her prodigal husband, when the family had been torn apart by the war that eventually united the Maguires and the Laws.

  Martina insisted on everyone refilling their glasses with champagne in a toast to Declan.

  Rachel used to be a hardened drinker, but since having children she’d found her tolerance for alcohol significantly lowered. As the night wore on the drink went to her head. When she gave an over-exaggerated laugh at something Beth said, it was Ryan’s turn to regard her with a raised eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”

  “I don’t get drunk.”

  “Yes you do. Not often, I admit.”

  “I’m fine. Sompletely cober.”

  This time both eyebrows went up. “Sorry?”

  “I said I’m completely sober,” she said, colouring slightly.

  “I think it’s time I got you home.”

  “I’m having fun.”

  “Yes but the party’s winding down and we’ve got Beth and Alex’s housewarming tomorrow and you don’t want to be hungover.”

  “I don’t get hangovers either,” she said indignantly.

  “We both know that’s a porky pie,” he replied, amused.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I know your game. You want to get me into bed, don’t you?”

  “I always want to get you into bed, but I’ve got the feeling you’ll flake out the moment your head hits the pillow.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “We’re off home,” said a voice.

  Jez approached with his wife Cathy on his arm.

  “You look knackered,” said Rachel.

  “I am. The first three months are always the hardest,” yawned the pretty blond, running a hand over her very slight baby bump. She was pregnant with their second child and they were hoping for a boy this time. They already had a little girl, Ruby, who was three years old and Jez worshipped both her and his wife.

  “You look tipsy,” Jez grinned at Rachel.

  “I’m fine,” she said, slurring slightly.

  “Yeah, alright.”

  “I’m taking her home,” said Ryan.

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “I’ll give you a lift,” offered Jez. “I haven’t been drinking, in solidarity with Cathy.”

  “Aw that’s so sweet,” said Rachel. “You didn’t do that when I was pregnant,” she pouted at Ryan.

  “I didn’t know I had to.” He frowned when she staggered slightly on her high heels. “Champagne never did agree with you, let’s go before you fall down.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “If you don’t walk out, I’ll carry you out.”

  It was a challenge but a light-hearted one, she could see the amusement dancing in his eyes and smiled, deciding to call his bluff. “Go on then.”

  She didn’t think for a minute he would. So when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder she released a squeal of surprise. As she giggled hysterically he
marched her over to Martina..

  “Rachel wants to say goodnight.”

  “Goodnight Martina,” laughed an upside-down Rachel.

  Martina and her friends cackled at the sight. “Goodnight Love, thanks for everything, its been a great night.”

  Ryan kissed Martina on the cheek before patting Rachel on the bottom. “Let’s go.”

  As they left with Jez and Cathy everyone laughed, except for Alex. Why did they always need to be the centre of attention? The hatred shifted inside him. One day he’d stop them fucking laughing.

  CHAPTER 2

  To her chagrin, Rachel did wake with a hangover the next morning. By the time she emerged downstairs bleary-eyed, Ryan was already up with the children.

  “Morning Mummy,” beamed eight year old Leah, racing up to her and flinging herself at her legs.

  “Hiya Sweetheart,” she replied, hugging her and kissing the top of her head.

  As always, three year old Ethan was hot on his big sister’s heels. He loved running round after her. Rachel scooped him up and kissed him on the cheek then wandered over to the table where Ryan was feeding two year old Aaron. Both boys had their father’s slate grey eyes and dark hair and were going to be heartbreakers when they grew up. Aaron gave her a big gummy smile, revealing a mouth full of weetabix.

  “Hello gorgeous boy,” said Rachel, kissing him before bestowing a kiss on Ryan.

  “Urrggh, Mummy and Daddy are kissing,” grimaced Leah.

  “Sit down and finish your breakfast young lady,” Ryan told her.

  “I am finished.”

  “No you’re not. We can’t go out until everyone’s eaten up, including you.”

  “Yes Daddy,” she huffed, throwing herself into a chair and pouting at her bowl of cereal. Ryan nudged her leg with his toe and gave her a wicked grin, making her smile.

  Seeing Ryan Law so domesticated never ceased to amaze Rachel. He’d done some truly terrible things in his life; she’d seen him murder, torture and beat up many people but that Ryan was in the past. Together they ran their businesses, which could only be described as an empire and he had faithfully stuck to his promise to be legitimate. His brother Jez now ran the Law’s heroin and prostitution businesses and Ryan was squeaky clean. He’d put his past behind him, just like she had. Rachel Maguire was gone too. Rachel Law was a respectable and highly esteemed businesswoman and together they were unstoppable. Ryan was also a wonderful father, patient and doting. Although Leah wasn’t his biological child she was his in every other way. Theirs was a father-daughter relationship and nothing could break the bond between them.