When Wayne Carter heard that Enrico Brigante had been signed by Mile End, he knew something was up. His dad usually made a point of only going for mediocre, middle-of-the-road players who wouldn’t make too much of a splash. Brigante was different; he had a sterling reputation. He wasn’t a party animal like the others. He might actually make a difference to the club.

This made Wayne suspicious. What was his old man up to?

That evening, Rob Linley came by Wayne’s place. The two young men now treated one another like old friends – which, as far as Rob was concerned, they were. They drank a few beers in front of the TV, and Rob managed to forget for a little while what a dangerous game he was playing. Wayne knew it was a bad idea to let Rob get too close to him, but all the same he couldn’t resist. After all these years he thought he had finally got her out of his system. But he hadn’t.

Chloe.

It was the only reason he listened to Rob prattling about this and that. The occasional mentions of Chloe. Wayne was no poet, he didn’t know much about love and feelings and all that. But all the same, he knew deep in his heart that Chloe was the love of his life. She was everything he had ever wanted. He had loved her and lost her.

But now things were changing. He no longer felt as though he were a mere puppet, doing whatever his dad wanted him to. He was his own man at long last, and he could make his own decisions. Already, these decisions were producing results. If he could just keep stringing Rob along for a while, he might be able to worm his way back into Chloe’s affections. He might even be able to…

No. He was getting ahead of himself. After all, he hadn’t even laid eyes on Chloe for years. In the interim, she’d had two kids! She was no longer the girl he had loved, and he was no longer the naïve kid whose heart she had broken. But it was something to think about. It was an idea.

“One good thing about this fucking mess,” said Rob, “Is that it’s put us back in touch, Wayne. You’re a good mate. I’m sorry I wasn’t always much of a mate to you.”

Wayne smiled. “You know, I was just thinking the same thing. About us getting back in touch, I mean. We had some laughs back in the day, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. We did. Did you ever imagine things would turn out the way they did?”

“No way. Me a cripple and you a bloody suit? Never in a million years.”

Rob laughed. “I meant about… you know.”

“What? The Russians?” Wayne shook his head. He tried to look solemn. It was all he could do not to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“We should do something sometime,” Rob suggested. “Something to take our minds off it. Why don’t you come round mine, I’ll do us a barbecue? Be like old times – sort of. Chloe’s been asking about you a lot lately.”

Wayne’s ears pricked up at this. “Has she?”

“Yeah. When I told her I was coming over here she said, ‘Wayne’s so sweet. I miss him.’ I know she’d love to see you.”

Wayne felt as though his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He struggled to keep his cool. “That sounds like a great idea, Rob. I’d love that.”

*

To begin with, Wayne convinced himself that he was just going for a leisurely drive. He did not have a destination in mind; he simply set out in the Porsche. It was a nice day; things were falling into place; he was going to enjoy himself for a change.

But as he coasted along the country lanes near his home, he suddenly found that an idea was formulating in his head. Curiosity began to get the better of him. He began to wonder.

He had not seen Chloe for many years. But of course he had not stopped thinking about her. He had tried his best to forget about her; he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Particularly as she was now married to Rob Linley – the mother of his children. But she haunted his dreams. His subconscious played snippets of their brief relationship on a seemingly endless loop behind his eyes. Now that he had more time on his hands, it had only gotten worse. He pictured her face, he felt the softness of her smooth skin against his fingers. He heard her voice. Rattling around that empty mansion of his, Wayne realised he was becoming obsessed. It wasn’t healthy. It was toxic. It was only going to make him depressed.

But Rob Linley – the fucking traitorous bastard – he was back on the scene. He thought they were friends once again. And now Rob had told him that Chloe was asking about him. He had invited him to a barbecue, for fuck’s sake.

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Wayne was conflicted. He knew he should hate Chloe because she had left him. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He still clung to those fleeting moments of affection they had shared in the past. He fantasised about what might have been.

But as he drove, he thought about how everything had changed over the last few weeks and months. He had been convinced that his life would follow a preordained and predictable path, but now it had diverged completely. Nothing was the same any more. He would never have predicted that his own father would hang him out to dry, but it had happened. He would not have predicted that he would end up working for the Russians – but they treated him with more consideration and respect than David Carter ever had. And now, this latest development: he had Rob Linley by the short and curlies – he could make that fucker do whatever he wanted, and Rob thought they were just good buddies.

Wayne had been underestimated by everyone, every step of the way. He had underestimated himself. But now he was beginning to realise just what he was really capable of.

Anything was possible. Nothing was off the table.

He knew Rob would be at work. Chloe would be at home with the kids, or else taking them for a walk in the local park. Wayne knew the address.

He rolled the Porsche to a halt at the end of Rob’s street. The house was a nice Victorian pile; distinctly middle-class. The sort of place Wayne could picture himself living if things had turned out differently; somewhere to raise a family.

He had thought the Porsche might look out of place in an ordinary domestic street, but when he parked up he noticed that just about every vehicle parked along the pavement was some sort of luxury auto. Jaguars, BMWs. Even a Rolls Royce. This was the place where hedge fund managers and other corporate dickheads came to live. No doubt Rob fit right in.

Wayne turned off the engine and stared at the house. It had wide, white-framed windows, and he scrutinised them carefully for some hint of movement within.

Then he saw her. Just a silhouette in an upstairs window, but it was her. He would have known Chloe anywhere.

He knew he should leave it at that. Nothing good would come from hanging around. But it was too much to resist. So near and yet so far. He got out of the car and, after a moment’s deliberation, headed up the garden path to the front door.

He moistened his lips nervously and pressed the doorbell. As he stood there, he realised what a terrible mistake this had been. He should have left well enough alone.

Then the door was opened, and there she was.

But it wasn’t Chloe. It was a young blonde woman who, he supposed, looked a little like Chloe.

“Yes?” she said, with a slight Eastern European accent.

“I’m looking for Rob Linley,” said Wayne, improvising. “Is he around?”

“He is at work. May I take your name?”

“Who is it, Paola?” said another feminine voice from somewhere in one of the downstairs rooms. And then she came striding out into the hall.

“Gentlemen for Mr. Linley.”

“Well, I’m his wife, can I…?” she looked at Wayne and a strange expression crossed her face.

She hadn’t changed. I mean, yes, she had aged, Wayne could see that. But she was still as beautiful as she had been the day they’d met. Wayne’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh,” he said. “Hi.”

“Wayne!” It took her a few seconds, but then she smiled at him. What was she thinking? What was going on in that head of hers? He wanted desperately to know.

Then she stepped forward and hugged him. It was a quick, unaffectionate hug, but it brought everything rushing back; all the memories that Wayne had done his best to forget.

All at once the hug was over. She was still smiling, but it was a false, faintly plastic-looking smile. “Good to see you, Wayne. How are you? I was sorry to hear about what happened with the… you know…” she gestured vaguely toward his injured leg. He felt a sudden sense of shame. Had she seen him that day? Had she been watching when the fateful blow was struck?

“Oh hiya Chloe,” he heard himself say. “Yeah, I’m not too bad thanks. I came to see Rob. He about?”

“Um no actually, he’s out at work…” She seemed to be weighing up a difficult decision. “Did you want to come in for a coffee or something?”

There was nothing on Earth Wayne wanted more than to go into that house to drink coffee with Chloe.

“No thanks,” he said. “But maybe you could let Rob know I stopped by?”

He felt her eyes on him as he walked back down the path and clambered into his car. The road blurred in front of him as he roared away, and he realised that he was crying.

*

That evening, Max went round to Rob’s place. He had been invited to dinner, and it was a welcome opportunity to spend some time with the grandkids and to take his mind off all the business troubles which were weighing him down. Not to mention the very difficult decision he knew he would soon have to make.

Unfortunately, the evening proved less than delightful. Rob was distracted and kept checking his phone. He seemed to be waiting for a call or a message or something. The lad doesn’t know he’s born, thought Max, he doesn’t know what real fear is.

Chloe, usually a chirpy, cheerful presence at the dinner table, was also uncharacteristically distracted. She played with her food and made little effort to keep the conversation going. Like her husband, she seemed lost in thought. What did she have to worry about?

Max did his best to keep the atmosphere light, for the sake of the little ones. But they didn’t seem to care. Max ate heartily and downed a couple of glasses of wine. It wasn’t going to be easy, it would take a lot of work, and he would need to be very fucking careful about how he approached the problem. But he was convinced that David Carter was finished. It was only a matter of time. And the organisation needed someone to seize the reins.

After dinner, Chloe went to put the kids to bed. Max looked at Rob, who was still messing about with his phone, and said: “I want a word with you, son.”

Rob’s gaze snapped anxiously toward him. “What about?”

“Mile End.”

Rob gave a nervous little chuckle. “What about it?”

Max smiled. “I think you’re going to like what I have to say.”