Hidden Heart (Love Is The Law 1) Read Online Free Page B

have
done. Bastard cancer.
    "Hey, mum. How are
you?"
    "Apart from gasping for a
wet? Elaine!"
    Elaine stuck her tongue out at
Turner, behind their mum's back, and started to fill the kettle with water.
Turner released his mum and took a step back. Elaine was right; she did look
pinker in the face, and she was smiling broadly. She opened her mouth to speak
but suddenly the kitchen filled with the shouts and screams of twin
five-year-old boys.
    "Uncle Turner! Uncle Turner!
Look at this! I got a plane! Look!"
    Turner started to laugh as the
boys wrestled with each other in their efforts to get to their favourite uncle
first, but Elaine stepped in. "No!" He started to protest but she
ushered them out of the kitchen, back into the living room, alternating between
threats of a spanking and promises of McDonald's.
    Turner's mother smiled, but her
eyes were downcast as she dropped a teabag into a chipped mug. She didn't look
up at him. Instead, she kept her attention on the kettle as the steam began to
rise from the yellowed plastic.
    "Mum?"
    The more he looked at her, the
more he thought the pink in her cheeks wasn't healthy at all. Her face was red,
and the skin seemed stretched and shiny. Was her hand shaking? Was she really
plumper, or was that just the treatments she was having? Her body had changed
shape, and he'd heard that steroids could do that.
    And what kind of selfish ignorant
son got himself sent down just when his family needed him the most? He
swallowed his bile as best he could, but he couldn't keep the sneer off his
face. A sneer at himself, and his low-life ways.
    She looked up and he tried to
hastily smooth his expression, hoping she wouldn't misinterpret what she saw.
She didn't mention it. "Turner. So, was your house okay?"
    He'd moved out of the family home
just before he'd been caught. He left his neat little terrace in the care of
Elaine and his mate Lee. It was only round the corner, one more unremarkable
red-brick street in the Manchester warrens, and everyone knew who he was and
where he was. The house had been left untouched during his sentence. He wasn't
a big local hard man, but he was known. "Yeah, Elaine did a good
job."
    "Speaking of jobs…"
    "Oh, mum. Really?"
    The kettle clicked off, and he
was released from her accusing stare as she fussed about making her tea,
shooing him out of the way when he stepped forward to try and take over. He
tried to change the subject while she was occupied with the milk. "Anyway,
I was thinking, you need this place redecorating, don't you? I'll grab Lee.
Between us, we can get the kitchen done in a day. Maybe two. What colours do
you think?"
    His mother turned around again,
and leaned on the countertop, almost exactly in the same pose that Elaine had
been in, a few minutes before. It was funny how such things passed down the
family. Was it genetic or was it learned and copied? He nearly opened his mouth
to remark on it, then reminded himself he wasn't in prison any more, and random
conversation wasn't needed. Inside, you'd talk about anything to fill the
hours. On the out, time was more precious.
    "Turner, you've been out a
week, and I know that's not long. But there must be some idea of jobs. You've
got skills, haven't you? Have you been down to the Jobcentre yet?"
    "They don't let you through
the door without an appointment written in gold on a marble slab. Job? What
bloody jobs. I wish. And even if there were jobs, what chance have I got now?
With a record?"
    She didn't reply, and in the
silence sang the unspoken obvious sarcasm: you shouldn't have got yourself
in that position, then.
    Turner threw his head back and
studied the ceiling, then wished he hadn't, as he noticed a dark stain,
cobwebs, and peeling paint. "Anyway, something's come up. Yeah. A potential…
job."
    His mum clicked her tongue in
disappointment. "Like the last thing was a potential job? And turned out
to be driving a getaway car?"
    "This is legit, actually
legit. My brief put me in touch with a