Through her marriage to Reggie Kray, Roberta Kray has a unique and authentic insight into London’s East End. Born in Southport, Roberta met Reggie in early 1996 and they married the following year; they were together until Reggie’s death in 2000.
Also by Roberta Kray
The Debt
The Pact
The Lost
Strong Women
The Villain’s Daughter
Broken Home
Nothing But Trouble
Bad Girl
Streetwise
Non-fiction
Reg Kray: A Man Apart
COPYRIGHT
Published by Sphere
978-0-7515-5380-2
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © Roberta Kray 2015
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
SPHERE
Little, Brown Book Group
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London, EC4Y 0DZ
www.littlebrown.co.uk
www.hachette.co.uk
Dangerous Promises
Table of Contents
About the Author
Also by Roberta Kray
COPYRIGHT
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Epilogue
1
Sadie Wise was a girl on a mission. She tapped her feet impatiently against the floor and beat out a rhythm on the table with her fingertips. Unfortunately the 3.45 from Liverpool Street didn’t share her sense of urgency. Could the train go any slower? It was crawling along the tracks, stopping and starting as if it couldn’t make up its mind as to what to do next. ‘Come on, come on,’ she murmured. At this rate it would be dark before she even got to Kellston.
She stared through the window at the slums of London’s East End, her gaze taking in the derelict warehouses, the high-rise blocks and the depressing rows of old brick terraces. A pall of despair hung over the area, a greyness that was down to more than the fading light. She began to wonder if this was yet another wild goose chase. Eddie was as slippery as an eel. If he got so much as an inkling that she was on to him, he’d be on his toes and out the door before she could even say the word ‘divorce’.
Sadie gave a sigh, determined not to give up before she’d properly begun. In another fifteen minutes – if they ever managed to get going again – she’d be there. She refocused her gaze, staring briefly at her reflection in the glass: an oval face framed by pale blonde hair, a pair of wide hazel eyes and an expression that was perhaps stupidly hopeful. Don’t wish for too much, she told herself, trying to stay grounded. After all these years, the chances of catching up with her husband were slim.
Sadie pulled her coat around her. The heating wasn’t working properly and a blast of cold air swirled around her feet. She felt the train give another jolt as it continued its slow progress along the line. At that very moment a girl came walking up the aisle, her eyes darting left and right as if searching for a spare seat even though the compartment was almost empty. In her early twenties, she was small and slim, elfin-faced with short black spiky hair. She was wearing jeans and a black suede jacket with a fur collar. Stopping by Sadie, she threw her a smile and slid into the seat on the opposite side of the table.
‘Sodding train! At this rate we’re never going to get there.’
‘I know,’ Sadie said. ‘What’s wrong with it? There was some kind of announcement, but I couldn’t hear a word.’
‘Signals,’ the girl said. ‘Something to do with signal failure.’ She sat back and immediately sat forward again. ‘Where are you going, then?’
‘Kellston.’
‘Oh, right. I’m the stop after.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘God, my dad’s going to do his nut. He’s waiting to pick me up.’
‘It’s not your fault if the train’s late.’
‘He won’t see it like that. He’ll have a go. He always does. He’s the type who expects you to get out and push if the damn thing isn’t going to get there on time. You’ve got no idea what he’s like. He’s a pig, a complete bastard.’ She paused and then added, ‘He’s a huge fan of Thatcher,’ as if this political allegiance was the final nail in the coffin when it came to his damnation.
Sadie’s eyebrows shifted up a fraction. Unsure as to how to respond, she decided to say nothing. Her silence, however, didn’t put the girl off.
‘Not that he actually is my dad. I don’t reckon so, anyway. Knowing my mother, it could be any number of blokes. She was never the faithful sort. Bit of a slapper, if you get my drift. Can’t blame her for it, though. Being married to him is enough to drive anyone to drink – and the rest.’ She stopped to take a breath and smiled again. ‘I’m Mona, by the way, Mona Farrell. May as well introduce myself as we seem to be stuck on this nightmare journey together.’
Sadie reflected that they wouldn’t actually be there together if Mona hadn’t deliberately sat down opposite to her, but there was little she could do about it now. The girl was definitely odd, hyped up, but it was difficult to tell whether this was her natural personality or if she was under the influence of something. ‘Sadie.’
‘Hi, Sadie.’ She glanced at Sadie’s holdall that was sitting on the seat next to her. ‘Do you live in Kellston, then?’
‘No, just visiting.’
‘Strange place to visit.’
‘Is it?’ Sadie studied the girl’s face, the very pale skin and the small rosebud mouth that had been painted bright red. She wasn’t pretty exactly, but there was something striking about her, a certain force behind the eyes. A whiff of perfume floated in the air – it might have been Chanel – accompanied by the faint smell of alcohol. ‘I don’t think I’ll be there for long.’
‘Nobody stays in Kellston for long, not if they can help it.’ Mona glanced down at the file that was lying open in front of Sadie. ‘Sorry, are you trying to work? I know I can go on a bit. Just tell me to shut up if I’m disturbing you.’
Although Sadie thought the girl strange, she was also a distraction, and anything was better than her own company at the moment. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, placing her hand on the private investigator’s report. She’d read it so many times she virtually knew it off by heart. ‘I’m finished here. I’m all done.’
Mona’s gaze settled on the photo that was clipped to the top page. She leaned in to get a closer look. ‘Who’s that then?’
‘His name’s Eddie Wise. He’s my husband. Although I’m hoping he won’t be for too much longer. I’m trying to track him down, sort out a divorce.’
‘What, done a disappearing act, has he?’
‘Yes, well, he did that years ago – and cleaned me out while he was about it.’ Sadie wasn’t sure why she told the girl this. It was just an impulse, a combination of anger and frustration. Sometimes the mere thought of Eddie was enough to make her hackles rise. ‘He emptied our joint bank account, every last penny, and then cleared off without a word.’