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Just Because We Do What We Do	By : gallygaskins Category: G through L > Hustle Views: 1283 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hustle and I do not earn any money from this fanfiction

Chapter List
- 3
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Chapter 4

It was ten o’clock on the dot when Albert arrived at Imogen’s suite at the Royal Lancaster, bringing Tom with him. Knocking politely on the door before he put the key card in the lock, he allowed the boy to run to his mother as soon as they walked over the threshold. The sight of mother and son embracing brought a tear to the old man’s eye as he thought back to times when he too had hoped to have a family. But it hadn’t happened quite as he’d hoped; picturing Lily Bonds in her silver dress he had to smile to himself as he thought about what could’ve been.

Before him, Imogen fell to her knees as Tom ran towards her, her arms open wide until his were about her neck, tears cascading over her face as the two reunited. She held him close for as long as the child could stand it, kissing his head profusely as she whispered soothing words to him.

Albert took a seat, smiling at the pair. Finally, they stopped embracing; Imogen’s hand held Tom’s tightly, leading him over to the sofa and allowing him to crawl into her lap. “How’ve you been with Eddie?”

The boy shrugged as best he could as he nestled himself against his mother’s body, one of her hands gently stroking through his hair, “its ok, I’m a bit bored sometimes.”

“Why?” Imogen asked.

“Because Eddie’s always working.” He pouted, causing Albert to laugh and his mother to smile.

“He’s a busy man, Tom. He has a business to run.” She pacified.

“I know, but he treats me like I’m a workhouse boy.” Imogen’s concerned eyes met Albert’s across the room. Albert shook his head and mouthed ‘no’ to her. “That’s what Ash says anyway.”

“Ash?” She asked hesitantly, her hand stopping atop his head.

“Yeah, he’s brilliant. Takes me to the park and plays football with me and Sean too. But he can’t keep up with us.”

Ash and Tom bonding? Imogen wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that. “Well, he’s a little old to be playing football with you.”

“I know. I keep telling him to be careful because of what happened to uncle Talos.”

“What happened to uncle Talos, Tom?” Albert asked the boy, from the look of panic on Imogen’s face a change of conversation was definitely in order.

“Well he smoked a lot, didn’t he mamma?” She nodded, “he used to run around everywhere and he’d play football with me too, until one day we were playing and he had a heart attack. Fell on the floor, grey as an elephant, I didn’t know what to do so I shouted for someone but no one came. In the end I ...”

Albert could see that Imogen’s demeanour had taken a turn for the worse but he couldn’t understand why. “What, Tom, what did you do?”

“I searched for someone to help me and went into a room where there were lots of men talking. I found babbas but he was angry with me. He scolded me and told me to get mamma.”

“Tom, that’s enough” Imogen all but screamed.

“But mamma, Albert wants to know what happened, don’t you Albert.”

Albert didn’t really know what to say. He wanted to understand what had happened to this misfortunate young woman and her son but on the other hand. “Not if it is too painful for your mother. Did you tell Ash all of what you’ve just told me?” Albert asked the question that Imogen, quite clearly, couldn’t ask herself.

“No, only about the heart attack, I thought it was best to tell him about the dangers of smoking too much and leave it at that.” Relief washed over his mother.

Albert took to laughing. “So what did Ash do?”

“He took the cigarette he’d just lit from his mouth and stamped it out on the ground.”

Albert couldn’t help but laugh some more. “My boy, you’ll get him to quit yet.” His phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID he got up from his seat and motioned towards the bedroom. Imogen indicated that it was ok and so he left mother and son to talk whilst he took his call, “yes? ... well no, he’s not here, why? ... oh dear ... do you want me to say anything? ... ok. I’ll keep it as we discussed, she’s just becoming reacquainted with her son at the moment anyway ... I’ll do my best, Emma. See you soon ... bye.”

As he reclaimed his seat, he observed Imogen and her son once more. They looked so happy together and yet, with the information that Emma had just imparted, the day for them was set to become a little unpleasant. He only hoped that Mickey would find Ash and calm him down before Ash decided he wanted to come and talk to Imogen and, with any luck, the situation would be diffused before that happened. However, Albert knew that whatever Mickey said to Ash, Ash would never let any of it drop until he had the full picture.

.oOo.

As Ash walked towards Eddie’s he decided that he’d never been so angry about anything in his life before. The facts as set down on the certificate he’d just seen didn’t seem to fully compute but even he realised that they had to be true; Imogen just wouldn’t have allowed her son, their son, he corrected mentally, to have false documentation, it just wouldn’t happen. And when he delved a little further into his psyche he knew that the boy that he’d found sitting on Eddie’s front step just over a week before did seem to bear a resemblance to himself, even if it did seem a little difficult to comprehend.

He had a son, the words kept flitting around his head making sure that he knew it, but he couldn’t put his finger on how that felt to him. Was it good? Well yes, to be able to have someone tangible in his life that was absolutely his, made him feel real, made him realise he was only mortal. He was a father now; he had responsibilities and obligations to another person, another human being, to his son. But then it was bad too. Grifter’s weren’t meant to have families, it just wasn’t the done thing, to be a grifter you had to have the ability to walk away from anything or anybody at a moment’s notice and he knew, deep down, that he would never be able to do that to Tom. Tom was his; there was no way he was going to allow anyone to take Tom away from him, especially now that Ash knew about him.

Had this been what Imogen had not wanted him to know about? It seemed plausible. After all, when she had left she had gone without a fight, without a word even. One final night together before she quietly up and went. Had that been the night that it had happened? As he thought back over the events that had led up to that night he doubted it, not to mention the boy’s birthday. She’d been attempting to lure him into something more solid for a little while before she’d actually gone so he guessed she’d known for a while. He just couldn’t understand why she’d not said anything to him at all. He’d have supported her, there was no doubt about that, but she’d obviously wanted more and believing that he wouldn’t give it to her she’d run off into the night, never to be seen again. Until yesterday.

Flying down the alleyway towards the bar door, he nearly collided with a couple of businessmen that had just emerged from one of the surrounding offices. He muttered his apologies as he pushed the door to the bar so hard it nearly came off its hinges, the wood frame splintering slightly as the door hit the wall behind. He ran down the stairs before zooming in on his prey, making a beeline for Eddie as soon as he was spotted. “What the bloody hell does Imogen not want me to know Eddie?” By the time Ash had finished his sentence he had Eddie up against the wall, his arms pinning Eddie in position.

Eddie looked genuinely scared, “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout?” Eddie screamed as Ash continued to hold onto him.

“When I bought the boy down here last week, Stacie said, she doesn’t want Ash to know. Well what does Imogen not want me to know? It’s a simple question Ed, which involves you answering me very quickly.”

“Ash, mate, look, I’m not sure. You’re really hurtin’ me.”

“Just tell me what she said and it’ll stop!”

Eddie’s mind was flustered, “she married a Greek ... er ... Tom’s ‘er son.”

“I know about Tom, what else?”

“Erm ... Ash, I’m not feelin’ too good,” Eddie coughed, bile rising up from his stomach. “Er ... keepin’ ‘er son safe an’ away from ... she’s run away, yeah, she’s run away.”

The door slammed back against the wall for a second time, “Eddie, have you seen Ash?” Came the question from the unmistakable voice of Mickey. As soon as he had made his way down a couple of steps and could see into the bar, Mickey realised that Eddie was in need of some help. He ran down the stairs as quickly as he could before trying desperately to pull Ash off of Eddie, but Ash was a man possessed and far too strong.

“What else, Ed?” Ash shouted.

“God, I can’t think.”

“Ash, leave him alone,”

Mickey tried to coax his friend away from the barman but Ash was having none of it, “stay out of it, Mick.”

“I can’t, Ash. Eddie doesn’t deserve what you’re doing to him.”

Ash looked back at Mickey, his eyes wild. “I need to know everything, I need the truth.”

“And you will, you’ll get all of it, I promise, just put Eddie down.”

The red mist lowered and Ash stepped back, his eyes blinking furiously as he calmed himself. None of this had been Eddie’s fault and yet Ash had felt the need to vent his frustrations on one of the only people that truly knew him. “I’m sorry, Eddie, I don’t know what came over me.”

He stuck out his hand; the visibly shaken barman hesitated before taking and shaking it. “It’s ok; you scared me a bit though. Thought we were meant to be mates?”

“We are, Ed. I’m just not thinking straight, that’s all.”

“Do you think we can all sit down with a cappuccino and chat about this?” Mickey interjected, “you too, Eddie, might need some input from you.” Ushering Ash to their normal booth he sat down opposite him, “do you want to tell me what’s rattled your cage?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know.” Ash moped.

“You found the copy of Tom’s birth certificate.”

Ash patted over the breast pocket of his jacket, “right here. Thing is, I don’t understand why she’s never told me.”

“What man ever understands why a woman does what she does?” Mickey grinned, Ash sniggered and smiled. “I do know one thing though, Ash. She loved you very much; you could tell just from the way she looked at you. Ask Albert and Stacie the same question and they will tell you the same answer. She must have found it extremely painful to leave you especially with the secret she kept from us all for so long.”

Ash nodded, he’d loved her too, still did by all accounts. “Eddie said she ran away from her husband. Do you know why?” Eddie arrived at the table with the three coffees on a tray. Ash picked up one as the barman took a seat next to Mickey and passed him his drink too. “Ta, Ed.” He smiled at the Northerner.

“We only know what Stacie has told us, although she’s got photos too.”

“Photo’s of what?” Ash asked demurely, although his insides were knots. His gut was telling him it had to be bad news.

“Ash, he beat her, allegedly.”

Ash looked between both Mickey and Eddie. “What do you mean allegedly?”

“I mean I haven’t actually see Imogen’s body, but from the photo’s that Stacie has shown us she’s been through a tough time.”

Ash’s stomach churned as he gulped back the vile taste in his mouth, “have you seen the photo’s Ed?”

Eddie shook his head, “no. But Stacie told me that this husband of Imogen’s knocked ‘er about a bit.”

“Imogen could be lying, she’s capable of it,” Ash suggested, although his gut was telling him that she wasn’t, “but why would Stacie lie to us?”

“Ash, she wouldn’t. Besides she mentioned that she and Danny had taken the photos before leaving America.”

Ash slugged back half his cappuccino, “sorry, but forgive me if I don’t believe Imogen until I’ve seen her with my own two eyes, then ...”

Mickey didn’t like the sound of this, “then?” He ventured but was ignored.

“Who’s she married to?” Ash sat back into the booth, his arms now crossed over his chest.

Mickey sipped at his drink, before sighing and cocking an eyebrow. “You’re not going to like this.”

“Try me!”

“George Liakos.”

“Who?” Eddie put in, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“What the hell did she get involved with him for?”

“Who is ‘e?” Eddie asked again.

Mickey shrugged, “In all fairness to her, I don’t suppose she knew who he was when she got involved with him, but that is purely speculation on my part. He wasn’t exactly big fry when she left us.” Mickey finally looked at Eddie, “from what we know about him he’s a Greek drugs baron with fingers in other pies too.”

“He also has dealings with the Mob, Ed. Nasty bastard by all accounts.”

“And Imogen was such a nice girl,” Eddie muttered as he took the cups away to be washed.

Ash and Mickey watched Eddie go before Ash leant forward towards Mickey, “why didn’t you tell me.”

“Because Imogen asked us not to.”

“I thought we were mates.”

“We are, I’d do anything for you Ash, and on this occasion I thought it was best if you didn’t know.”

“And why did Em want me to know?”

“She could see that you’d find out, however even she didn’t think you’d find out as quickly as you did. She’s glad you did, though.”

“Me too, at the moment. So is there anything else I should know, anymore secrets?”

“Just one,” and possibly the worst secret of all, “and I promise you that Albert only did what he did was because he cares about you a lot and he believed it to be the right thing.”

Ash sighed, “and we like doing the right thing, don’t we?”

Mickey nodded, “yes.” He paused not sure of how to start, “Albert knew that Imogen was pregnant when she left.”

“What?” Ash couldn’t believe it, for ten years Albert had kept vital information from him.

“Ash, he never actually knew the baby was yours, but he knew it wasn’t Liakos’ and he knew that Imogen had never cheated on you either. He only found out because her father pleaded with him to talk to her and try and change her mind but she wouldn’t have any of it. If it’s any consolation, he feels it’s his fault she went off and married Liakos; which quite honestly I’ve already told him he’s not responsible for.”

“She made her bed,” Ash said absently, “no one could’ve made her stay.”

Mickey smiled, “I don’t think that’s strictly true. There may have been one person.”

Ash met his gaze, and reflected his smile, “yeah, maybe.”

“Come on then, let’s go and get this mess sorted out,” Mickey got up from the table; “I suppose we’ll have to allow Emma time to gloat.”

Ash slapped Mickey on the back, “no doubt, mate.” As they walked through the bar to the stairs, Ash caught Eddie’s eye. “I’m sorry Ed, women troubles. Look, I’ll come back and fix the door later on.”

Eddie watched Ash and Mickey take the steps up to the outside world, “door?” He suddenly asked, “what do you mean Ash,” he moved to the foot of the stairs, “what’ve you done to me bleedin’ door?”

.oOo.

“Perfect, only one more and I’ll have a full set,” Imogen had just about had enough of all the house guests that had all seemingly taken root in her living room, she paced the floor to the window, her back to the room. “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Mickey?” she said, taking in the view outside, before turning back to the door. She blinked a couple of times; no he was still stood in the open doorway, “Ash?”

“Hi, Imi.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, “long time no see.”

“You saw me last night.” Looks were exchanged and mouths opened in shock all around them but for Imogen and Ash it was just the two of them.

“Yeah, took me a little while to work you out but it was the accent that gave you away in the end.” She nodded.

She made a move towards the centre of the room; he was now inside, the door firmly closed behind him. “What do you want?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you want me to know?”

“Want you to know what, Ash?” The frustration was beginning to wear her down.

“About Tom being mine.”

“He’s not yours,” she said quickly, without thinking.

He shook his head, looking up to Mickey before pulling the document from his pocket and opening it up. He laughed before the sullen expression crept back upon his features, “why is it my name down as being the boy’s father then?”

“Mamma?”

Imogen looked around her, trying to locate an ally and finding one in Sean. He took Tom off into the bedroom. “Well?” Ash asked again.

“He’s yours,” she said miserably, “I found out just after we’d finished off the Teddington con. And just before we had that massive row about being together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?” He shouted at her across the void.

“You’d just told me that you didn’t want me,” she shouted back, “you were hardly likely to change your mind just because I was having your baby.”

“I would’ve paid my way.”

“Do you think that’s what I wanted for our child?”

“I’d have supported you in any way you needed me to, I just couldn’t be with you, it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair on whom exactly? Are you hearing yourself, Ash?” She hung her head momentarily, “I didn’t want your money or your support, the only thing I wanted was a father for our child.”

“So you went and married George Liakos?”

“He was a decent man once.”

“Did you love him?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Did you ever love him, Imi?”

She shook her head, “no.” She said; her voice barely audible as the tears flowed freely.

“Take your blouse off.” He ordered.

“What?” Confused, she searched his face but found nothing there to indicate what he was asking of her.

“Take your blouse off, Imogen.” He said with more force.

“I hardly think this is appropriate,” Stacie called out, “Mickey?”

“I’m with Ash on this one,” Mickey said from the sidelines.

“How could you?” She screamed out, “she’s been through a living hell and now you’re both making it worse for her. I’d never thought you capable of this, Ashley Morgan.” Ash turned to look at her, “Danny and I took photos.” She pleaded.

“No good, Stace, sorry. Need to see for myself.” He looked back to Imogen aware of the hurt that he was causing her but this needed to be done he kept trying to reason with himself; his heart going out to a destitute Stacie too, who he could hear crying behind him, Emma comforting her. “My patience is wearing thin, take off your blouse, or I’ll do it for you.”

Defiant eyes looked deep within his, “ok, Ash, you do it, after all what’s one more bully in my life.”

He wasn’t proud of himself, but he wasn’t a bully either. His body compelled him to go on, stepping forward he felt his fingers reaching out, taking hold of the rich fabric within his fists and pulling the opening apart. She now stood semi-naked in front of him, her chest rapidly rising and falling as her heart race increased from the adrenaline rush that pumped through her veins. Ash wasn’t much better himself. With the blouse still tucked into her trousers he couldn’t see anything, so she had been lying. A smug expression flew across his face just long enough for her to catch it.

Closing her eyes, Imogen pulled the fabric from her body, a gasp resounded from somewhere behind her as she continued to stare Ash down. Then, as quickly, she turned around. The familiar criss-cross pattern of deep rooted scars, the tiny specks of red bruises as they now were and the large cigar burn that had all been evident in Stacie’s photographs were now being shown to the rest of the room as a living proof. Emma choked back bile as Stacie continued to cry. Danny tutted and shook his head. Albert’s face reflected compassion and sympathy. Mickey looked across to his crestfallen friend, his heart actually going out to both Ash and Imogen. How could they come back from this?

Albert was the first to speak up, “that’s enough now.”

Imogen’s hatred filled face turned to Ash, “is it enough, Ash? Have you seen everything you needed to?”

An absent hand went up to touch the scars but Imogen’s visible flinch was enough to make Ash feel as if he’d been burnt. “Sorry,” he whispered before turning on his heel and striding from the room, the slamming door signalling his exit.

“Mickey, go after him,” Albert ordered, Mickey stood rooted to the spot.

“I’m so sorry, Imogen,” he said, before acting on Albert’s instructions and following Ash.

Albert continued to issue orders. “Danny, take Stacie and Emma back to the hotel; get Sean to take Tom back to Eddie’s too. I’ll make sure Imogen’s comfortable before I return.” They left suddenly, leaving Albert and Imogen alone. “He’s very sorry for what he did?”

Imogen was attempting to cover herself, “how could you possibly know that Albie?”

“I’ve known him a very long time, he never does anything without a valid reason but he would never knowingly ridicule you either. He must have had his reasons for doing what he did but he wouldn’t have been very proud of the way he acted.”

Imogen nodded, she knew enough about Ash to know that what Albert said was true. “I should hate him, but I don’t.”

“That’s good,” Albert smiled.

“If it’s at all possible,” she confided in him, “I love him more now than the day I left him.”

Patting her arm he said, “he knows; I’m sure of it. Now go and relax, you look exhausted.” Watching her take refuge in her bedroom Albert took the opportunity to leave, he had to go and see a man about a key card, anyway.

.oOo.

Ash had been stood in the very same spot on the Embankment that Imogen had occupied the night before when he was found by Mickey and Albert. It had taken them a while to calm down the crew’s fixer but in the end Ash had been pacified, they’d put the world to rights and even smudged over the horrors that Ash witnessed every time he closed his eyes and saw Imogen’s war torn back and hate filled face. “Go to her,” Albert had coaxed him, “she needs a friend, someone to listen to her, to understand what she’s been through, to be there for her when she needs a shoulder to cry or a body to hit out at. She’ll open up to you, Ash.” He’d nodded making a move to get a cab to take him back to her. Albert’s hand had then found his wrist, beseeching eyes looking into his own, before passing the key card that he had over to Ash, “just don’t be angry with her and don’t judge her.”

“I won’t,” was all he’d managed to say before leaving Mickey and Albert to their own devices. And now he stood outside her door for the second time that day, waiting and wondering what to do next, thumbing the edges of the key card that stayed firmly in his pocket. Should he really be doing this? ‘Yes,’ came the reply but he still hesitated. It wasn’t until he heard voices coming towards him down the corridor that he decided to push the card into the reader on the door and let himself into the suite as quietly as he could.

The bedroom door stood slightly ajar and from beyond he could hear the slow rhythmic breathing of Imogen asleep. He smiled as every now and then she snored lightly, he hadn’t heard it in so long but it was music to his ears and very comforting. He wandered around the living area looking for anything that would give him a clue to what her life was now like not that there was much, a couple of glossy magazines adorned the table, one opened out to show the latest catwalk trends from Milan. At least one thing hadn’t changed, she’d always been partial to her designer clothes and when she and Stacie had gone shopping together the men instinctively knew they’d end up spending a fortune.

He noticed a stereo on the other side of the room and walked across to it, an iPod was plugged in with a jack plug. He picked it up and scanned through the artists, “no change there then,” he muttered as he read through the eclectic mix of music she had upon it. The menu skipped back to the last song that had been played, paused halfway as it was. He pressed play, unsure of the song as it hit the speakers at full pelt before quickly turning down the volume and listening out for any signs of Imogen’s waking in the other room. A snore signalled that she was still dead to world so he turned up the volume a crank in order to hear the woman singing.

The haunting melody of a song he’d recognised from at least ten years before filled his head, but it was the words that really drew him in.

Oh I am what I am; I do what I want; but I can't hide.
And I won't go; I won't sleep; I can't breathe; until you're resting here with me.
I won't leave; I can't hide; I cannot be; until you're resting here ...

Not being able to take anymore of the subliminal messages his brain was sending him he hit the stop button before leaving the iPod back in the place he had retrieved it from. He took a turn about the room noticing a cardigan thrown over the back of a chair, an open box of tissues on a table by the same chair and a bin too. He peered inside; she’d clearly used nearly half a box to wipe up her tears, black mascara tinting each of the used sheets. He stood up again seeing a newspaper upon the table with a pen on top of it. He went over pulling the paper towards him and seeing that in fact it was some kind of technology magazine. An article about batteries stared back at him; copious notes were scribbled around the edges in her elegant hand. If he didn’t know any better, she had started working on a plan to get to her husband.

It seemed that any talking between them would have to wait as her slumber seemed heavier than it had when he’d first listened to her. He took off his jacket, laying it over the back of the same chair that her cardigan resided on. Opening up his collar a little bit he rolled up the sleeves of the white and pale blue checked shirt he had on before padding silently into her domain. For a few moments he stopped and watched her sleeping from the doorway, ascertaining if was safe to go on. It was. He looked around him for a suitable place to sit and spied a chaise longue situated under the window. Perfect, kicking his shoes off as he got to it and laying his long legs along the length of it, a cushion supporting his back as he sat and watched her sleep.

It had been such a long time since he’d done this that he realised it was just another one of those things he’d always enjoyed doing. It had always given him great comfort knowing that the one person he loved more than anything was sleeping soundly and even now it was no exception. For everything this woman had gone through she was obviously comfortable and that made him smile.

He remembered back to the first time he’d done it. His insomnia had been rife, keeping him awake and his mind active as he’d an awkward alarm system he’d been trying to work around. It had got to a point where no amount of work would help although compelling him to carry on, but his mind had been shutting down from overuse. He’d gone to bed but been too wired to sleep himself so he’d taken a seat by her side, watching her sleep as soundly as she was now, her breathing shallow but evident as her chest rose and fell in time along with it. When she’d woken in the morning he’d given her a fright, so much so that she’d scolded him but that had never stopped him and after she’d realised that he only did it for his own piece of mind she seemed to accept it and even invite it later on. She had once told him that she felt safe knowing he was there watching over her. But how would she feel now?

“What are you doing, Ash?” Imogen asked bringing him out of his reverie.

“Shh,” he whispered, “go back to sleep, love, we’ll talk later on.” She seemed to understand and turned over, her rhythmic breathing taking over her once more. He smiled; at least she hadn’t thrown him out. Not yet anyway.
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Just Because We Do What We Do