The Streets, page 29
‘Get off her!’
Cookie heard a bang. Then something warm and wet splattered her face and Ned released the pressure on her throat. Coughing and spluttering, she rolled clear of Ned. She could hear him, still lying on the ground, bellowing in agony.
She wiped her eyes and scrambled up, realizing she was covered in blood. Ned’s blood. ‘You shot him?’
‘Right in the balls.’ Jo shrugged. ‘I reckon it was the perfect place, don’t you?’
As Ned continued to roll about on in agony, Jo put her hand on Jace’s shoulder and guided him towards Cookie. ‘You two need to go. You need to get out of here. The police will be here soon.’
‘The police?’
‘Yeah, I called them. I told them there was a child in danger, that someone had fired a gun.’
‘Why? Why would you do that?’
‘This way you won’t be a part of it. They’ll not be looking anywhere else. They won’t be sniffing around. They’ll only be too pleased to see me back behind bars . . . It’s the least I can do, Katherine. Please let me do this. I can’t bring Parker back, but I can do this. Now go. Run, run . . . And Katherine, take care of yourself.’
And without saying anything, Cookie nodded and ran into the night with Jace.
Jo heard the sirens before she saw the blue lights coming down the track they were standing on. Eight police cars, and somewhere in the distance she heard a helicopter. She stared down at Ned, who held his hands between his legs, groaning from where he’d been shot. She booted him in his side and crouched next to him, lifting his head up by his hair. ‘Look, they’re here now. Can you see them?’
Ned could only groan.
Lit up by the headlights of the police cars as they approached, Jo whispered into Ned’s ear, ‘They’ll probably give you eight years, maybe less, and you’ll be out in two. And then what, Ned? What will you do? You’ll probably go after my Katherine and make her life a living hell. You’ve done it before, so why wouldn’t you do it again? But I don’t want you to do that. Me and Grey don’t want you to hurt her again. She’s been through enough, don’t you think?’
Jo stood up, squinting in the lights of the cars. ‘And that’s why you ain’t going to see the inside of any jail cell, Ned, cos you ain’t ever going to hurt my Katherine again. She deserves to be free.’ She pulled back the trigger, aiming the gun at Ned’s head. ‘Now fuck off out of here.’
And then she fired.
FIVE MONTHS LATER
Soho stopped. The pavements were lined, and hand in hand in a line they walked behind the white flowers spelling the name PARKER in the glass horse-drawn hearse. Cookie turned to Barney, her whole body shaking.
‘That’s it, girl, you’ve got this, you can do this,’ Barney nodded to her. Unable to speak through her tears, Cookie mouthed the words thank you as she squeezed Tabby’s hand on the other side.
They all walked, following the carriage, and she nodded to the Turkish couple from the deli, the waiters from the restaurant, the ladies from the nail bar, the owner of the launderette. They were all out for her . . . for Parker. A memorial for him arranged by Finn after he’d found out she’d never attended Parker’s funeral.
At Soho Square, Finn, with his scars still red and angry, leaned over her shoulder and whispered, ‘This was Barney’s idea. He told me Parker liked insects, so we thought he’d like this.’
And right in front of them, hundreds of butterflies were let out of boxes, flying and soaring into the cloudless sky.
She walked forward, watching, remembering, and for the first time she heard Parker’s voice, his laughter in her head, free from anything apart from the love she felt towards him. ‘Goodbye, Parker. Goodbye.’
Then she felt arms around her and she turned to smile at Lorni and Tabby, Cora and Finn, Barney, and of course, Jace. Her family. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, Katherine ‘Cookie’ Mackenzie had finally found peace.
Even though she was locked up again, for the first time in her life Jo felt free. At peace. Her dad no longer lived in her head and she didn’t have to pretend anymore; she didn’t have to move from one place to another. This cell, like that old box under the bed, was her home, and Jo felt comfortable in it. As long as she had Grey, she knew she’d be fine.
She held on tightly to him, humming away, thinking about everything that had happened.
She’d heard through the grapevine that Simon Draper had got what was coming to him. He’d been picked up by the police and placed on remand in Pentonville. While he was there, a couple of the lags had jumped him, determined to give the nonce what was coming to him. He’d been found the next day with his throat sliced in half. Jo giggled at the thought.
Even that evil old witch Pearl was in no fit state to bother anyone now. In the unlikely event that she ever made it out of hospital, she had nowhere to go now that Ned was pushing up daisies. Though there was always a bed in here for her; Pearl would find it a home from home.
Jo climbed up on the barred window ledge and looked out. ‘Goodnight, Tabs. Goodnight, Barney. Goodnight, Cora.’ Then she dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Goodnight, Katherine.’ Then she laughed and yelled loudly: ‘Nearly forgot you: Goodnight, Lorni. Goodnight, Jace.’
‘Keep it down in there.’
‘Fuck off!’ she shouted back at the screw, then began to imagine what they’d all be doing now. Barney fussing over something and nothing, Cora having a natter and a gossip, Tabby trying to stay off the gear, Lorni chasing after Jace, and Katherine . . . well, she hoped Katherine would be being spoilt rotten by Finn. Loved. Happy. Cared for. And even though the outside world wasn’t really where she felt she belonged, Jo would miss them all. They were her family. She’d miss the club, the deli, the Turkish couple who always fought, she’d miss the buzz of Soho, but most of all she’d miss the Streets . . .
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A huge thank you goes to Wayne Brookes, my editor, who made me roar with laughter with his emails and helped shape the book with his thoughtful insights. I’d also like to thank Anne for the amazing job she did on the copy-edits, and a big thank you as well to Rebecca Needes for all her helpful input. I’d like to give a big shout out to the rest of the team at Pan Mac; it’s very exciting to have this book published by them. As always, a massive thanks goes to Darley, my wonderful agent, and the rest of the team at the agency. Lots of love for my family and friends who give me unwavering support. And of course to you, the reader – a big thank you for the loyalty and support you show.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jacqui Rose was born in Manchester and grew up in a small village in South Yorkshire. Always a daydreamer, her love of books and writing started as a child. She is now the author of over a dozen gritty bestselling British crime novels including The Streets. Jacqui lives in a quiet part of England with her children along with lots of dogs and cats and horses.
Also by Jacqui Rose:
Taken
Trapped
Dishonour
Betrayed
Avenged
Disobey
Toxic
Fatal
Sinner
Poison
Rival
First published 2022 by Macmillan
This electronic edition published 2022 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
The Smithson, 6 Briset Street, London EC1M 5NR
EU representative: Macmillan Publishers Ireland Ltd, 1st Floor,
The Liffey Trust Centre, 117–126 Sheriff Street Upper,
Dublin 1, D01 YC43
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-5290-7654-7
Copyright © Jacqui Rose 2022
Design: www.mulcaheydesign.com
Images: woman © Shutterstock, background © Johnny Ring
Author photograph: © T. Wright
The right of Jacqui Rose to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third-party websites referred to in or on this book.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Map artwork by Hemesh Alles
Visit www.panmacmillan.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.
Jacqui Rose, The Streets
