Читать книгу: «The Victim»

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Kimberley Chambers

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

Trussed up like a dead chicken, the man was in agony as he lay on the cold, concrete floor. His left arm was definitely broken, and he suspected his right leg could be as well. As his captor picked up the gun and pointed it at him, the man shut his eyes. His colourful life had finally caught up with him; there was no way out this time. Images of his family flashed through the man’s mind. He pictured his beautiful wife and children whom he loved so very much. He wasn’t afraid of death – he never had been – but he was very afraid of never seeing his family again.

Laughing at the man, his captor aimed a kick at his head and put the gun back down on the floor. The captor had waited years for this moment and he wanted to torture his prey as much as possible before he finally killed him off.

The man opened his eyes again. Every second that passed seemed like a minute and every minute like an hour.

Out of the shadows, the captor’s accomplice reappeared. ‘You not killed him yet? What you waiting for?’ he asked.

The captor laughed, his tone full of evil. ‘I was waiting for you. I thought you’d wanna watch the cunt take his last breath an’ all,’ he replied, picking up the gun once more.

The man clenched his eyes firmly shut as he felt the steel of the metal barrel pushed into his temple. This was it now, and with his past sins, he wondered if God would accept him in heaven or banish him to hell.

The captor put his finger on the trigger and ordered the man to open his eyes. He wanted to feel his anguish, see his fright.

‘Wanna make one last wish?’ he said mockingly.

‘Go fuck yourself,’ the man croaked. He had never bowed down to anyone in his life and he wasn’t about to start doing it on his deathbed. If he was going to die, then he would die the way he had lived, with pride.

Hearing four gunshots, the man shut his eyes and prayed. He was no Bible-puncher, had never really believed in God, but what choice did he have now? Surprised that he wasn’t feeling even more pain, the man wondered if he was already dead. Did the pain start to leave your body as your spirit left the earth? he wondered.

Frightened to open his eyes in case he came face to face with the devil, the man froze as he heard a familiar voice. It couldn’t be! He must be dreaming – he had to be. He opened his eyes and gasped. This was no dream and, in that split second, the man realised that there must be a God after all.

CHAPTER ONE
1993

Eddie Mitchell’s mind was working overtime as his motor crawled towards his aunt’s house in Whitechapel. The A13 was chocka with roadworks, as per usual, and the five miles an hour he was able to drive gave him plenty of time to ponder over his decision.

For the first time since his father had been murdered and Eddie had taken control of the family firm, he’d been stumped over what he should do. He knew what he wanted to do – he wanted to wipe out every single one of the bastard O’Haras but due to what his dickhead brothers had done, that was now impossible for the time being.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Eddie thought back to the past. The feud with the O’Haras had originally started in 1970. At the time, Ed’s father Harry was running an extremely successful pub protection racket in the East End of London, until one day a bunch of travellers turned up out of nowhere and tried to muscle in on their patch.

Ed and his brothers, Paulie and Ronny, had all worked for Harry at the time and an all-out war with the travellers to take control soon followed.

The O’Hara firm was run by the old man, Butch, but it was his son, Jimmy, whom Eddie despised the most. Ed still bore the scars of his tear-ups with Jimmy, but at the time he’d got his own back by putting Jimmy in hospital for a long spell. Not many moons later the O’Haras disappeared. Harry, Ed’s father, finally got rid of them by shooting Butch in the foot. Ed thought he’d seen the last of them but, unfortunately for him, he hadn’t.

It was many years later, when Ed was living in Rainham with his beautiful wife, Jessica, and their twins, Frankie and Joey, that Jimmy O’Hara reappeared. He bought a house nearby, so they became neighbours. A kind of truce was called and was sort of kept until Ed’s daughter Frankie began dating Jed, Jimmy’s youngest son. Then all hell broke loose.

The ringing of his mobile phone snapped Eddie out of his daydream. It was his fiancée, Gina, whom he’d sent away for safety reasons while he sorted things out. ‘All right, sweetheart? How’s tricks?’

‘Oh, Ed. Claire’s gone back to work today and I’m so bloody bored. I miss you so much and I swear I can look after myself, so please let me come back home. If I leave now, I could be back by teatime.’

Eddie sighed. He missed Gina dreadfully and the decision he’d made was partly because of that. ‘Listen, I’m nearly at me aunt’s now. I’ve come up with a plan that I’m gonna put to the lads and hopefully that will set the ball rolling so you can come back home. It won’t be today though, babe. Stay put for now and hopefully you’ll be home by the weekend. I have to be sure we’re all safe first, so just trust me on this one, Gina.’

Eddie and Gina continued their conversation until he pulled up outside his Auntie Joan’s gaff. When Ed’s father was alive, he’d always insisted that any important meetings should take place in a room upstairs in Joanie’s house and Ed had continued that tradition.

‘You can never trust too many eyes and ears,’ was Harry Mitchell’s motto.

Ed said goodbye to Gina, then hugged his aunt as she opened the front door. She’d been baking, as usual, and the smell of her house was always a comfort to him. Joanie had brought him up as a kid after his mum had died of TB, and she was very special to Eddie.

‘I’ve made you two plates of sandwiches and some rock cakes. Now you go on up, ’cause the boys have been waiting ages.’

Eddie took the stairs two at a time and entered what he called their office. The room hadn’t been decorated since the seventies and Ed liked it that way, as it reminded him of the good old days when his old man was still alive. A large mahogany table sat in the centre of the room, with eight mahogany chairs around it. An old-fashioned bar stood in the right-hand corner and, apart from a massive picture of Harry Mitchell, which Eddie had blown up as a tribute and had placed on the main wall, the room had little else in it.

‘What time do you call this?’ Gary asked jokingly.

Eddie sat down at the head of the table. The firm at present only consisted of four of them. Himself and Raymond, who was Jessica’s brother, and his two eldest sons from his first marriage, Gary and Ricky.

Ricky poured everybody a neat Scotch and then opened the door so Joanie could bring in the sandwiches and cakes.

‘Well, what you decided?’ Gary asked as soon as the door was shut.

‘Let’s eat first and talk after,’ Ed replied.

Raymond studied Eddie carefully. He knew Ed better than anyone, probably even better than Eddie’s sons did. When Eddie had mistakenly shot and killed Jessica, Ray had never envisaged being good pals with Ed again or returning to the firm, but he had done both, and was now raring to go. In Raymond’s eyes, Jessica’s death had been Jed O’Hara’s fault, not Eddie’s, and for the sake of his sister’s memory, Raymond now wanted revenge. Not even remotely hungry, Ray slung his sandwich back onto the plate.

‘For fuck’s sake, Ed, spill the beans. What we gonna do?’

Eddie pushed his plate away and sipped his Scotch. ‘I’ve thought long and hard about this and I think I should go round to Jimmy O’Hara’s house and call a truce. I shall tell him he can do what he wants with Paulie and Ronny. It’s the only way forward – for now, at least.’

Raymond was gobsmacked and Gary and Ricky looked at their father in complete and utter horror. Gary was the first to break the silence.

‘Have you fucking lost your marbles or what, Dad? How can you go round O’Hara’s house and shake his hand when he’s responsible for our whole family falling to pieces? Not only is Jessica dead because of them cunts, Frankie’s in Holloway and her kids have been kidnapped by the pikey bastards. You’ll mug us right off if you call a truce – O’Hara’ll think we’re a proper bunch of pricks.’

‘I agree with Gal. What about you?’ Ricky asked Raymond.

‘I want to get revenge for Jessica, but we have to get them kids back before we do anything else. She would have loved them grandchildren of hers and getting them home safe and sound would have been her priority.’

Eddie held his palms face up. ‘Hold your horses for a minute, the lot of ya. I run this firm and I make the decisions.’

Gary shook his head. ‘How can you offer your own brothers up on a plate, Dad? I know they’re a pair of fucking idiots, but they’re still our flesh and blood.’

Eddie’s eyes clouded over. He immediately stood up, picked up his glass and threw it at the wall, purposely missing Gary’s head by only inches. ‘Do you think I really want my brothers dead? No, they might be a pair of bell ends, but they’re still family. Remember, they’re in Belmarsh at the moment, and I know every face in there who’ll keep an eye on ’em for me. Use your loaves, lads, O’Hara is a fucking pikey and all he probably knows is two bob mugs in there. He ain’t gonna have many pals in a cat-A nick like Belmarsh, is he? If, by hook or by crook, O’Hara does somehow get to Paulie and Ronny, then that’s life, but I’m confident he ain’t got the brawn. But if he has and he wanted to do that, he could do it without my permission anyway. It’s our safety I’m more concerned about now. I want Gina back home with me and yous boys alive. Raymondo has got a nipper on the way – he don’t need the grief – and let’s not forget about Joey. Who’s to say that O’Hara wouldn’t try to top him? He’s an easy target, ain’t he? The way I see it, lads, is by pretending to hand Ronny and Paulie to O’Hara on a plate, we won’t have to look over our shoulders.’

Raymond immediately nodded his head in agreement. Gary and Ricky just stared at one another.

‘Do you think O’Hara will swallow it?’ Ray asked Eddie.

Eddie shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not. It weren’t us that killed his son or his grandkid, it was Ronny and Paulie. He knows I ain’t had fuck-all to do with my brothers for years, so why shouldn’t he swallow it? You gotta remember, Jimmy might be fuming, but he’s also grieving. He’s already lost two of his family and if he won’t accept my handshake, he knows the rest of ’em, including that rotten, fat, ugly wife of his, are in danger.’

Gary shook his head. ‘I think we’re all forgetting something ’ere. What are we meant to say to Frankie, Dad? She’s tried to kill Jed, he’s got her kids, so what do we do? Tell her that you’ve shook hands with his father and everything is fucking hunky dory now?’

Ordering Raymond to top all their drinks up, Eddie gave a false chuckle and, for the second time that day, his eyes clouded over. ‘Son, you’ve got a lot to learn about me. For now, what I propose we do is just a temporary answer to our current problems. Then we start planning, and I mean properly planning. We’ll take our time, we have no choice.’

Pausing momentarily, Eddie stood up and stared at his dead father’s photograph. He then placed his hand against his heart and turned to Gary and Ricky. ‘I swear on your grandfather’s grave, that one day I will get revenge for what the O’Haras have done to this family.’

He then turned towards Raymond. ‘And I promise you, Raymondo, that I will also get revenge for Jessica’s death. Believe me, I will personally fucking kill them pikey cunts one by one, and may God be my judge if I fail.’

CHAPTER TWO

Frankie sat bolt upright as the piercing screams of the new girl disturbed her wonderful illusion. She’d been dreaming of Georgie and Harry. They’d all been at the funfair together, and the reality of waking up and finding out that it wasn’t real filled her with sadness. Frankie had been banged up for stabbing her then-boyfriend, Jed O Hara. On finding out that Jed was responsible for murdering her grandfather, Harry Mitchell, Frankie had tried to kill her evil ex and apart from now being parted from her children, the only regret Frankie had was that Jed had managed to cling to life.

‘The fucking snakes, there’s a load of ’em! Get the bastards off me!’

Closing her eyes, Frankie lay back down and pulled the covers over her head. There were no snakes of course, the new girl was just having withdrawal symptoms, which seemed to be a common occurrence on the hospital wing.

It was three weeks to the day since Frankie had had her second bail application rejected. In her first week in Holloway she’d been bullied something chronic, so she’d taken her father’s advice, acted doolally and got herself put in the hospital wing.

As the girl in the next bed started screaming again, Frankie put her hands over her ears. The days she could handle, but she hated the nights. Most of the other inmates were heroin addicts. They were given methadone to suppress their withdrawal symptoms, but Frankie soon realised that the alcoholics were the worst. It was usually them that kept her awake all night with their hallucinations.

Aware that somebody had arrived to deal with the distressed inmate, Frankie pretended to be asleep. It was daylight now, but all Frankie wanted to do was shut her eyes and picture her beautiful children again.

‘Wakey wakey, Mitchell. Get up and pack your stuff. I’ve just been informed there’s a space waiting for you on the maternity wing. Sort yourself out and I’ll come back to collect you as soon as I get the OK from the powers above.’

Frankie immediately leaped out of bed and, for the first time in days, smiled. She was just over twenty weeks pregnant now and the baby inside her was the only thing that had kept her going over the last few weeks. She had been doing buttons to move to the maternity wing. Surely in there she would meet some other nice inmates and they could discuss their kids and stuff.

With a spring in her step, Frankie packed her belongings up. She was done and dusted in ten minutes flat. She sat back down on her bed, rubbed her swollen tummy and whispered to her bump. ‘Your father might have taken your brother and sister away from me, but he’ll never get his evil hands on you. I still don’t know if you’re a little boy or a girl, but whatever you are, your mummy will love you dearly and you will belong to her.’

Unaware that his sister was about to be moved, Joey Mitchell opened the front door and gave his father a hug. He had barely seen his old man since Frankie’s last court case and, seeing as they’d only recently been on good terms again, Joey had missed their new-found closeness.

Eddie kissed his son on the forehead and then shook Dominic’s hand. Dom was Joey’s boyfriend and when Ed had originally found out about his son’s sexuality, he’d gone apeshit. Being a notorious East End gangster, Ed just couldn’t deal with the fact that his sperm had produced a homosexual son, and it had taken a lot of pride for him to step down off his anti-gay soapbox.

Now things were different and even though Ed still couldn’t quite understand his son’s preferences, he’d learned to live with them. It also helped that Dominic was a lovely fella – so much so that Eddie often felt guilty for turning up at his flat that time and threatening to cut his cock off.

When Joey’s Chihuahua ran into the hallway to greet him, Ed picked the dog up and kissed her on the nose. He’d always loved animals, especially dogs. ‘Hello Madonna, my little darling,’ he said, laughing.

Dominic grinned. ‘I hope you’re hungry, Ed. I’ve just made a big pot of chilli for lunch. I’ve used lean steak mince, of course. It’s a wonderful recipe; my mother gave it to me.’

Eddie smiled. He was anything but hungry – he felt too worried to eat – but he didn’t want to be rude. ‘I could do with a drink first, actually. Listen, I need to speak to yous boys, so get us all a drink and we’ll chat before we have any grub.’

Joey sat down nervously on the sofa. His dad wasn’t his usual jovial self and he hoped that whatever was wrong didn’t involve Frankie. His twin sister had been through hell already and it would be awful if she had been beaten up in prison or something.

Dominic handed Eddie and Joey a bottle of lager each and sat on the armchair.

‘Please tell me that nothing bad’s happened to Frankie, Dad. I couldn’t deal with her having any more bad luck.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘Frankie’s OK. She rang me yesterday. Look, I don’t want you to worry about this, because it’s probably just me being paranoid, but yesterday I went round to Jimmy O’Hara’s to try and sort things out. Someone has to try and shovel up the mess your uncles have created, so I thought I’d offer him a truce.’

The colour drained from Joey’s face. ‘He didn’t threaten you, did he?’

‘No, he wasn’t even there. The whole place was locked up, no one was there, so I rang Pat Murphy, who informed me that the O’Haras have gone away and they’ve been missing for over a week. Georgie and Harry are obviously with them, but no one seems to know where they’ve gone. I don’t trust O’Hara – he’s a snake, always has been – so I just want you and Dominic to be extra vigilant, in case they’re planning any repercussions.’

‘What! And you think they’d come here?’ Dom asked anxiously.

‘No, I don’t. If Jimmy or Jed want anyone’s blood, it’s mine, not yours, but just watch your backs. I shouldn’t think for a minute that they even have a clue where you live, but I don’t trust the pikey bastards. They’re scum, the lowest of the low and I would never put anything past ’em.’

When the room fell silent, Joey picked Madonna up and held her to his chest. ‘If anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll kill them,’ he whispered in her ear.

Aware that his boyfriend was worried, Dominic broke the ice. ‘So how’s Gina, Eddie? And when are you both going to let me and Joey take you to that fabulous new restaurant we told you about?’

‘Gina’s fine. She’s staying at her mate Claire’s at the moment, but as soon as I sort things with O’Hara, she’ll come back home. To be honest, I really miss her; I’m rattling around like a lost sheep in that cottage on me own.’

Joey handed Madonna to Dominic. ‘Take her outside for a wee-wee, Dom. I need to have a quiet word with my dad.’

When Dominic left the room, Joey closed the door and turned to Eddie. ‘I didn’t want to say too much in front of Dom ’cause, unlike our family, his parents are so normal, but what I don’t understand is how is Jimmy O’Hara going to accept a truce when Uncle Ronny and Paulie have killed his son and blown his grandchild to pieces?’

Eddie was a little taken aback. Unlike his other two sons, Gary and Ricky, Joey had rarely taken any interest in the family business or asked any questions in the past. Ed downed the rest of his lager and decided to be truthful with Joey.

‘I’m going to offer O’Hara Ronny and Paulie on a plate. Tell him that what happened was fuck-all to do with me and if he wants revenge, it’s all right to do whatever he wants to do to them. And before you call me a wrong ’un, Ronny and Paulie are in Belmarsh, where I know plenty of people who will watch their backs for me so O’Hara’s henchmen can’t get to ’em. What else can I say to the man, Joey? I have no choice.’

Joey had steel in his eyes as he faced his father. When he was a child, he’d been a proper crybaby and even now he’d sob at the drop of a hat, especially if it was a sad story or film where someone was nasty to an animal. But at the end of the day, he wasn’t a boy any more, he was a man. He might be gay, enjoy a normal life and detest violence, but he was still his father’s son.

‘Paulie and Ronny are both a pair of arseholes, always have been. I’ve never liked them and neither has Frankie. They haven’t exactly got many good points, have they?’

Eddie threw an incredulous glance Joey’s way. He couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing and for a second he wondered if his son was taking the piss out of the callous way he’d sometimes behaved in the past.

‘Are you having a laugh with me or what, Joey?’

‘No, Dad. I’m deadly serious.’

Eddie scratched his head. It was a habit of his when he was struggling for the right words. ‘Look, I know what you’re saying, and yes, your uncles are both arseholes, especially Ronny, but they’re still our flesh and blood, son. Even though I’m gonna tell O’Hara it’s OK to fucking top ’em, I don’t think he has the power to do it. Once they come out of Belmarsh he might, but they’re looking at life and until then, I think they’re both safe. Whatever my or your opinion of ’em, I grew up with ’em, and you know how much I loved your grandad Harry. I can’t, in reality, order a hit on me own, Joey, it ain’t done in my circles.’

Joey faced his father with a nonchalant expression on his face. He walked towards him and placed his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. ‘Listen to me Dad, and listen carefully. I might not be part of your world, but I’m not stupid. If I was, I wouldn’t be working in the Stock Exchange. I’m worried about us. Me, you, Frankie, Dom, Nan and Grandad. And let’s not forget about Dom, Gina, Gary and Ricky. Mum’s death toughened me up and I’ve thought about your world a lot since. Do you honestly think that if you offer O’Hara Paulie and Ronny and then he can’t get to them, he’s gonna fall for that? He won’t. I barely know the man and even I know he won’t. Frustration at not getting his own back will set in and then he’ll look for other targets. You seem to be more concerned about Jimmy, but I know that Jed is the worst out of the lot, Dad. Frankie didn’t tell me too much, but I know he’s evil and he won’t let something like this rest. Don’t ask anyone to protect your brothers in prison. It’s all their own doing, aint it? Let the O’Hara’s have their revenge. If you don’t, you’re putting all our lives at risk.’

Frankie’s good mood evaporated as she walked into the dormitory and saw who she’d be sharing with. The girl that had bullied and humiliated Frankie on her arrival at Holloway had been black and this girl was the same colour. Fearing the worst, Frankie smiled and nervously held out her right hand.

‘Hi, my name’s Frankie.’

As the girl stood up, Frankie was shocked by how short she was. She was no more than five feet tall, if that. With a mass of bushy afro hair and enormous breasts, she almost looked as though she was about to topple over. The girl smiled, and as she did, her face lit up. She had one of the most beautiful smiles that Frankie had ever seen, and perfect white teeth. As she began to speak, her voice had a slight Jamaican lilt to it.

‘Thank you, Lord. I prayed last night that I wouldn’t be saddled with another head case, and he must have listened because he sent me you. My name’s Barbara, but you can call me Babs. Me and you, Frankie, are gonna get along just fine.’

Eddie arrived home, poured a large Scotch and sat at the kitchen table. The cottage seemed dismal and lonely without Gina’s presence and he couldn’t wait for her to return. Unable to stop thinking about what Joey had said earlier, Ed mulled over his words once more. The boy was right: if O’Hara couldn’t get to Paulie and Ronny, he’d get his revenge elsewhere. With his conscience pricking him, Ed topped his drink up. If he ordered nobody to watch his brother’s backs in Belmarsh, he was sure O’Hara could find somebody to get to them. The question was, could Eddie order his own brothers’ death sentences? He was temporarily saved from feeling like an executioner by the shrill ring of his phone.

‘Ed, it’s Pat. Just a quick call to let you know that Jimmy’s home. They’re all back, including Jed and your grandkids. Apparently they’d spent the week with poor Marky’s wife and kids.’

‘Did you tell Jimmy that I wanna speak to him, Pat?’

‘No. To be honest, I don’t really want to get involved, mate. It’s awkward, because I’m friends with the both of yous. Having said that, I do think you need to sort it, Ed. I know you’re no man’s fool, but if I was you I’d get this shit sorted fast. Jimmy ain’t a man to be messed with, you know.’

Eddie ended the call and sat back down at the kitchen table. He could sense the threat in Pat Murphy’s voice: O’Hara had said something to him, that part was obvious. Furious with the decision he was now faced with, Ed slammed his glass down so hard that it shattered into pieces. The O’Haras were the bane of his life and he would never be truly happy until they were all dead.

Over in the maternity wing in Holloway, Frankie and Babs were getting along rather well. Frankie had been suspicious of Babs’ warm welcome at first, but the more she’d chatted to her, the more her earlier distrust had evaporated. Babs was six months into her pregnancy and, like Frankie, she was also the mother of two other children, a boy and a girl. The only subject they hadn’t yet discussed was how they’d both come to end up in prison. Frankie was the first to broach the subject.

‘So when is your court case, Babs? And how long have you actually been in Holloway?’

‘My trial is probably next year sometime. I’ve been in here four months, but I know I’m gonna get life.’

Frankie was gobsmacked. Babs seemed so nice, but she must have done something really bad to be looking at life. Sensing Frankie’s reluctance to ask her what she’d done, Babs started to open up. In the four months she had already spent in Holloway, she had never really talked about her crime. The other inmates all knew what she’d been charged with, but nobody knew why she had done it. Her usually bubbly expression disappeared and was instantly replaced by a look of sadness.

‘My first boyfriend, Dennis, was a bastard to me. He’s the father of my daughter, Matilda, and I met him when I was fifteen. As soon as I fell pregnant, the beatings started. He nearly killed me one time; pushed me down some concrete stairs and I was in hospital for nearly two month. He was Jamaican, like me, and involved with the Yardies, into drugs, prostitution, the works. Once he even made me sleep with a mate of his while he filmed it.’

‘Oh my God, that’s awful,’ Frankie said, shocked.

Months of not speaking about what had happened came bubbling to the surface and Babs was determined to share her burden with Frankie.

‘That’s nothing compared to what happened next. I contacted one of those women’s refuge places and they were brilliant. They put me in one of their safe houses and me and Matilda were so happy until Dennis turned up one day and set fire to the place with us inside. We managed to escape through a back window, but it were such an awful experience, Frankie. Even to this day, a whiff of smoke is enough to frighten the living daylights out of me.

‘The police never caught Dennis: he went on the run, and he knew the right people to protect him. Me and Matilda got moved again, this time to Surrey, but I could never say we were happy there. I used to sit in the dark most nights in case Dennis had found out where we were. Then, one fine day, a copper knocked at the door. Dennis had been found dead on the streets of Brixton. He’d OD’d on drugs, crack cocaine, and the police reckon he’d died in a house or flat and had been dumped on the pavement after his death. I was so happy. All I wanted was to move back near my family and friends, but Dennis dying just seemed too good to be true. I insisted on viewing his body – I needed to know it was definitely him – and when I saw his evil face in that morgue, I danced for joy, as I was finally free.’

‘So, how did you end up in here? The police didn’t accuse you of injecting him or something, did they?’

Babs shook her head. ‘Dennis died over ten years ago and I vowed never to get involved with any other man, but I was desperate for a brother or sister for Matilda, so I had a fling until I got what I wanted. Jordan’s dad was a guy called Brandon. I barely knew him, and I never told him Jordan were his son. He seemed an OK sort of dude, but he lived with a girl. I doubt he would have been happy about it, as I’d told him I was on the pill. Me and the kids were then given a council house in Streatham and that was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. There was a park nearby and because I never had much money, I used to buy a cheap loaf of bread and take the kids there to feed the ducks. Then one day I got talking to this guy. I’d seen him there before and he seemed so nice. He was great with the kids, especially Jordan.’

When Babs began to cry, Frankie sat on the bunk next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. ‘If it’s too upsetting for you, don’t tell me any more,’ Frankie whispered.

‘I want to. I need to tell someone,’ Babs sobbed.

Trying her hardest to pull herself together, Babs continued her story. ‘Unlike all my ex-boyfriends, Peter was a white dude. He was a bus driver and seemed such a kind, honest, down-to-earth person. I didn’t rush into anything. I met him loads of times at the park before I agreed to go out on a date with him.’

‘Ssh, it’s OK. He can’t hurt you no more, nobody can,’ Frankie soothed, as Babs began to cry once again.

‘I went out with Peter a whole year before I let him move in with me. He’d play football with Jordan, help Matilda with her homework, he seemed like the ideal stepfather. Then one day I was meant to be taking Jordan to his friend’s birthday party. Peter had offered to look after Matilda and I told him I’d be back in a couple of hours. When I got to the party, they’d had to cancel it because the child’s grandma had died suddenly. Jordan was upset, so I said we’d go home and Peter would take us all to the Wimpy. As I opened the front door, I could hear Matilda crying. I thought she’d fallen over and hurt herself, but as I listened more carefully I realised it was something much worse. “Please stop, Peter, you’re hurting me,” she was pleading. Twelve years old, that’s all she was.’

‘Oh my God,’ Frankie whispered. She had guessed what was coming next.

‘I told Jordan to be quiet and sit in the living room, then I took the dagger out of the drawer. It had once belonged to Dennis, but I had always kept it after I split up with him, as it made me feel safe. I crept upstairs and saw the bastard with my own eyes. Matilda was naked from the waist downwards and Peter was raping her. I tiptoed into the room and then I stabbed him in the back over and over again, until the breath and blood seeped out of him.’

Frankie was crying herself now. She thought she’d had it tough with Jed, but it was nothing compared to what poor Babs had been through. ‘You won’t get life. If you tell the jury the truth, they’ll let you off, I know they will.’

‘I can’t. Apart from you, I’ve told nobody. I told the solicitor I killed Peter because he used to beat me up.’

A good judge of character, Frankie now decided that Babs was the real deal, totally genuine. She urged her to listen to what she had to say. ‘I’ll have a word with my dad if you like. He’ll find you a good brief to represent you. Babs, you must tell the truth for the sake of your children. I know your mum is looking after them, but they need you, especially Matilda.’

Babs shook her head furiously, then put her hands protectively on her rounded stomach. ‘I will never put my Matilda through a court case and let’s not forget, I’m carrying that evil bastard’s child. I love my children more than anything else in the world, and to protect them, I’m willing to keep my trap shut and do life.’

Eddie Mitchell stared at the clock on the kitchen wall. He had promised himself he would make a decision by midnight and he had ten minutes left to do so. He poured himself another Scotch and stared at the now empty bottle. Jessica used to hate him drinking the stuff, said it changed him as a person and made him violent. Well, tonight he’d done at least three quarters of a litre, but he wasn’t drunk and had only been drinking to help him make a decision. Picking up his glass, Eddie walked into the lounge. A big photograph of his dad was on the opposite wall to Jessica’s. It had been taken on his dad’s sixtieth birthday at the restaurant where they’d all celebrated and Harry looked as large as life, with a big grin on his face and a fat cigar in his hand. Ed stared at the photo and smiled sadly. He still missed his dad dreadfully and he would never rest until he found out who had murdered him so brutally. One day Ed would find out, that thought kept him going, and when he did, he would torture those responsible before he actually killed them. He began to speak, his voice full of emotion.

‘I’ve had to make a decision, Dad, and I want you to know that it’s been the most difficult one of my life. I would like to shoot every O’Hara tomorrow. I could easily kill the fucking lot of ’em, but I can’t because of everything that’s happened and I would hate to see Frankie’s kids end up in care. I’m gonna plan my revenge carefully. Last time when I tried to kill Jed, I went at it like a bull in a china shop and look what happened – I lost my beautiful Jessica and I’ll never forgive myself for that. This time around, I need a proper plan. Things have to be perfect and, when they are, I’ll use my loaf, keep my wits about me and strike. I hope you can forgive me for what I’m about to tell you, but there’s a good chance Ronny and Paulie will be arriving at the Pearly Gates soon. I don’t want that to happen and I’ll be devastated if and when it does, but I really do have little choice in the matter. Ronny and Paulie have dug their own graves, unfortunately, and I have to put the safety of my children first and also Gina and Raymond, who both mean the world to me. Please forgive me, Dad, and if you see Ronny and Paulie before me, tell ’em I love ’em and I’m sorry.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘Mummy! Come back, please, Mummy. Don’t leave me! I promise I’ll be good.’

Harry O’Hara woke up and rubbed his tired eyes. At three years old, Harry was eighteen months younger than his sister, Georgie. To look at they were chalk and cheese. Harry was a pale-skinned, chubby blonde boy, whereas Georgie was very tall for her age, skinny, with long, dark hair and dark skin. Harry got out of bed, toddled over to his sister and prodded her arm.

‘Georgie, what a matter?’

Georgie sat bolt upright and began to cry. She kept having the same awful nightmare. Her mum would come back home, then she would walk out and leave her again.

Harry clambered onto his big sister’s bed. Georgie was the only one who would give him a cuddle these days. His mummy used to give him loads, but whenever he asked his dad, nanny Alice, or grandad Jimmy for one, they all laughed at him. ‘Stop being such a sissy, Harry. You’re a big boy now and big boys don’t need cuddles. Cuddles are for babies and girls, you dinlo,’ his dad would tell him.

Georgie and Harry huddled together in silence. The last month had been awful for both of them. Firstly, their mum had disappeared, then on the day they’d found out that they had a brother called Luke, he’d had his brains blown out in front of them.

‘Are you thinking of Luke?’ Harry whispered.

Georgie shook her head. ‘I was thinking of Mummy.’

‘Can we go see her, Georgie?’

Georgie didn’t answer immediately. Nanny Alice had told her that her mum was in prison because she’d tried to kill her dad, but Georgie didn’t believe it. Her mum would never do something like that, she was too nice. Hearing movement on the landing outside, Georgie turned to her brother, so her mouth was next to his ear.

‘If I tell you something, you won’t tell anyone, will you, Harry?’

‘Promise, Georgie.’

Ever since Georgie first learned to walk, she’d had a habit of running away and exploring. Once, when her uncle Joey had taken her to a pub, she’d hidden in the woods, climbed up a tree and watched the police search for her. She loved an adventure; it was part of her nature.

‘You know yesterday when Grandad drove us home?’

Harry nodded.

‘I think I saw Nanny Joycie’s and Grandad Stanley’s house. It wasn’t far from here, so maybe we can run away and they can take us to see Mummy.’

For the first time in weeks Harry’s eyes lit up. He liked Nanny Joyce and Grandad Stanley and, most importantly, they always gave him cuddles. ‘Can we go there now?’ he whispered.

About to reply, Georgie was stopped in her tracks by the bedroom door opening.

‘Up you get, yous two. Come on, now. Nanny Alice is gonna do us all a nice big fry-up. Bath first, then breakfast after.’

When her nan turned her back, Georgie put her forefinger to her lips to warn Harry to keep schtum. She then held his hand and led him out of the bedroom.

Jimmy and Jed O’Hara had got up at the crack of dawn and gone over to the fields to check on the horses. It had been cousin Sammy’s job to feed them and keep an eye on them while Jimmy and Jed were away, but by the looks of the stallion lying on the grass, he hadn’t done a very good job.

Neither Jimmy nor Jed could be described as animal lovers. Jimmy owned a goat that he rather liked, but he’d sold all the dogs now, and the horses were just a way of making money.

Jed knelt down and looked into the stallion’s eyes. ‘He don’t look good, Dad. I think you’d better ring a vet.’

‘Nah, he’s had it, boy. It’ll be cheaper to shoot him meself,’ Jimmy replied.

As they headed off to get the gun they kept hidden nearby, the conversation turned to Alice.

‘She seems much brighter now, Jed. Did her the world of good spending time with Tina and the kids.’

Jed agreed. Tina was his brother Marky’s wife. The last month had been awful for all of them, none more so than himself. Marky had been murdered, then Jed’s son Luke had been shot by mistake. The bullets had been meant for Jed, and Lukey boy had died in Jed’s arms. Jed had thought he would never smile again at the time – he wished he was dead instead of his boy – but, unlike the boy’s mother, who had literally fallen to pieces, he’d had to pick himself up and carry on. As a proud travelling lad, he had no choice other than to put on a brave face, but what had happened was eating away at him inside, like a fast-spreading cancer, and he would never be truly happy until he got revenge for his brother and Lukey boy.

‘What’s happening with Sally? Why don’t you invite her round for dinner, that’ll cheer your mother up no end,’ Jimmy suggested.

Jed shrugged. Sally was Luke’s mother, and she was also pregnant with their second child. Unlike Frankie, whom his mother had despised, Sally got on like a house on fire with Alice.

‘Why you shrugging? You ain’t split up with her, have you?’

‘Nah, but I’ve barely seen her since Lukey boy died. I’ve only met up with her twice since her father came round and poked his fucking oar in. She’s still staying at his, and when I rang her earlier to tell her I was home, she came out with some cock and bull about having gut ache. I reckon her old man has told her to keep away from me.’

‘Or she could be telling the truth, Jed. Perhaps the girl ain’t well. How far gone is she now?’

Jed smirked. ‘I dunno. Men don’t take much notice of dates and times, do they? She’s probably about three month, at a guess, but what with that slag Frankie being pregnant at the same time an’ all, I didn’t really listen.’

As they reached the field again, Jimmy turned to his son and smiled. ‘I know it’s been a tough few weeks for you, boy, but you’ll get through this, I know you will. None of us will ever forget Lukey boy, he was a little diamond, a chavvie to be proud of, but you and Sally will have plenty more chavvies. Take my advice and look after that Sally – she’s a good girl, your mother likes her and you could do a lot worse.’

Without waiting for a reply, Jimmy marched over to the stallion, put the gun to its head and dispassionately shot it.

Eddie Mitchell was not in the best of moods. He’d drunk far too much Scotch the previous evening and even though he hadn’t felt drunk at the time, this morning it had made him feel sluggish and heavy-headed. Even a shower hadn’t made him feel any better; it had actually made him feel worse. Ed got dressed and studied himself in the mirror.

With his six-foot frame, his couple of days’ trademark stubble and his short dark hair, which he’d recently started to wear slicked back to cover the odd strands of grey, he looked good for fifty-three and he knew it. He’d always been broad-shouldered, but when he’d been banged up for accidentally killing his wife Jessica, he’d trained a lot in prison through boredom and he’d walked out of those gates with the toned body of a thirty-year-old.

Turning his head slightly to the right, Eddie fingered the scar down the left-hand side of his cheek. Women had always loved it – they said it made him look rugged – and men had always been jealous of it, wishing they had one to make them look as manly, but he’d always fucking hated it. It wasn’t the actual scar itself: if someone other than Jimmy O’Hara had put it there, he would have probably been quite proud of it, but the fact that his worst enemy had scarred him just reminded Eddie every day how much he hated O’Hara.

The shrill ring of the landline interrupted Eddie’s foul mood. It was Stuart, his old cellmate from Wandsworth.

‘One week to go. One week to go. I’m counting down the hours, and I can’t fucking wait,’ Stu sang to the tune of ‘Here Comes the Bride’.

Despite his own problems, Eddie had to laugh. Stu had recently been moved to an open prison and he seemed to have the use of a phone morning, noon and night.

‘What’s been happening, mate? How’s Gina?’ Stuart asked.

‘Yep, everything’s fine and Gina’s just popped to Tesco,’ Eddie lied. He wasn’t one for talking over prison phones and he hadn’t told Stu any of the recent gossip. He would tell him everything when he picked him up next week. ‘Listen, Stu, I’ve gotta shoot out, I’m running late as it is. Bell us later if you can and don’t worry, your bed’s all made up here and Gina insists you can stay as long as you like.’

Ending the call, Ed wanted to smash the phone against the wall as the bastard rang again. ‘What?’ he screamed into the receiver.

‘Ed, it’s me. Are you OK?’ Gina asked.

‘Sorry, babe. I thought it was one of the boys.’

‘When can I come home, Ed? I’m pulling my hair out here through boredom.’

‘Soon. I’m going to sort things out right now – that’s if I ever get off this poxy phone,’ Ed said sarcastically.

‘Oh, sorry, go on, you get off and ring me as soon as you get things sorted. I can’t wait to see you again. I love you, Ed.’

Eddie returned the compliment, apologised for being snappy, then ended the phone call. The thought of what he was about to do next was making him feel physically sick. What type of man signs his own brothers’ death warrants? he pondered, as he searched high and low for his keys. He found them down the side of the armchair and, as he stood up, he came face to face with his father’s photograph.

‘I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, Dad.’

Alice O’Hara was feeling more positive than she had in weeks. Her son and grandson being murdered had knocked her for six, but visiting Marky’s widow and his two sons had somehow helped her come to terms with her grief. Her daughter-in-law, Tina, was a tough cookie and she had given Alice a serious talking-to. Tina had made her realise that no amount of screaming, crying and self-pity were going to bring Marky or Lukey boy back and, for the sake of the rest of the family, she needed to get her act together.

Singing along to Hank Williams’ ‘Lovesick Blues’, Alice carried two large china plates over to the kitchen table. On one there were sausages and bacon and on the other black pudding and fried bread.

‘Get stuck in and I’ll bring the eggs and beans over in a tick,’ she said.

Georgie stared at the two big plates in horror. The meat was swimming in grease and she hated that black stuff and the horrible bread that her nan cooked.

‘Nan, can me and Harry have Rice Krispies instead?’ she asked.

‘Don’t start, Georgie. You need to get some meat on them bones of yours, so you eat what Nanny gives you,’ Jed shouted.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Jimmy said as the doorbell rang. He hated being disturbed at mealtimes; it pissed him off big style.

‘You eat your breakfast, Jimmy. I’ll answer it and tell whoever it is to take a running jump,’ Alice insisted.

With the spatula still in her hand, Alice stomped into the hallway and, as she opened the front door, very nearly had a fit. ‘Gertcha, you murdering mother’s cunt. Get off my property before I kill you,’ she screamed, as she lunged at Eddie with the greasy spatula.

Eddie held his hands in front of his face to stop the stupid bitch from blinding him. ‘I ain’t come here to cause no trouble. I need to speak to Jimmy. I wanna make amends for what happened.’

‘Amends! Fucking amends! Gonna bring my Marky and Lukey back from the dead are you, you animal?’

Hearing a commotion, Jimmy and Jed ran to the front door.

‘You no-good shitcunt,’ Jed yelled as he lunged at Eddie.

As his son grabbed Mitchell around the neck, Jimmy waded in to pull Jed away from him.

‘Look, I’ve come here to apologise, not fight. I know nothing can make up for the stupidity of my brothers, but what happened was fuck-all to do with me. I wanna try and sort this mess out for good,’ Eddie said.

Georgie O’Hara was brighter than most four-year-old girls and as soon as everybody had left the kitchen, she’d scraped her and Harry’s greasy breakfasts into the bin and covered the evidence with her nan’s tea-towel. Now she’d led Harry into the hallway to see what all the fuss was about.

Because Eddie had been in prison for virtually all of his grandchildren’s lives, neither Georgie nor Harry knew him that well. Both had visited him in Wandsworth with their mum, but it was Harry who had seen him more recently than his sister, and recognised him first. Thinking that his grandad had turned up to take him and Georgie home to their mum, Harry let go of his sister’s hand and ran towards Eddie.

‘Grandad, can we see Mummy?’ he yelled excitedly.

Eddie had been too busy arguing with Jed to notice the kids were there and he felt really emotional as he laid eyes on the pair of them. Georgie looked skinnier than the last time he’d seen her and Harry seemed a few inches taller.

‘Get away from them chavvies. They’re nothing to do with you or that whore of a daughter of yours any more!’ Alice screamed.

‘I want my Mummy!’ Georgie sobbed, as Alice roughly dragged her and Harry back towards the kitchen.

‘Grandad, can we come home with you?’ Eddie heard Harry shout just before the door was slammed. Eddie felt completely useless. He could tell the kids were unhappy – it was written all over their little faces – and he needed all his self-restraint to stop himself from putting them in his motor and taking them home with him.

‘You ever come near my kids again, I’ll fucking cut you to pieces,’ Jed yelled, lunging at Eddie once more.

Jimmy grabbed his son by the hair. ‘Get in that kitchen with your mother and make sure them kids are OK.’

‘No! Why should I? That bastard killed my son and …’

Grabbing Jed by the neck, Jimmy marched him into the kitchen. ‘You leave this to me and if you come back out this kitchen, I shall clump you so hard you’ll see fucking stars,’ Jimmy warned as he slammed the door and marched back to where Eddie was standing. He walked out into the cold December air, shut the front door and marched Eddie over to where the stables were.

‘You’ve got some fucking nerve turning up here, I’ll give you that much,’ he spat.

Unlike Eddie, Jimmy O’Hara was no oil painting. He was six feet two, had dark, greying, wavy hair, thick lips, a beer belly and a big bulbous nose that splattered over to one side of his face. Jimmy opened the stable door, let Eddie inside and turned to him with a look of hatred.

‘So, what do you want?’

Eddie was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his cool. Jed had attacked him and had ripped his Armani shirt, he hadn’t been able to speak to his own grandchildren and now he had this big, ugly prick looking at him as if he were some kind of faeces he’d trod on. Taking the advice of his probation officer, who had told him to take ten deep breaths whenever he felt as if he was about to lose his rag, Eddie spoke in the most sympathetic voice he could muster.

‘I came here to apologise for the deaths of your son and your grandson.’

Jimmy gave a sarcastic chuckle. ‘Well, that’s fucking big of ya. We’ll forget all about it and be best buddies then, shall we?’

‘Just drop the sarcasm and hear me out will you, Jimmy? It weren’t fucking easy for me to come round ’ere today, so the least you can do is listen to what I’ve got to say. If you don’t, then I’ll walk away now and we all know what will happen next, don’t we? You’ll shoot a couple of my family and then I’ll shoot a couple of yours. And so it goes on Jimmy, like it always bastard well has done, until we’re all laying six feet under.’

‘Go on then, talk, I’m all ears,’ Jimmy spat.

‘I’ve come here today not only to apologise, but also to offer you a deal. You know as well as I do that I had sod-all to do with what happened. I’ve had sweet fuck-all to do with my brothers for years – they might be my flesh and blood, but they’re mugs, the pair of ’em. I ain’t stupid; I know you’re gonna want revenge and so would I if I’d gone through the same as you had. So I’m gonna give you permission to go ahead, do what you’ve gotta do with Paulie and Ronny and when you do, I promise they’ll be no repercussions from me or my family.’

‘I think you’ve forgotten something, Mitchell. Your cunting brothers happen to be in Belmarsh with a lot of your old pals and I know for a fact that you’ll say one thing to me, then have their backs watched for ever more. Don’t insult me, by treating me like some dinlo, please.’

‘I promise you, Jimmy, I won’t get involved. My brothers fucked up big time and now they have to pay the price. I’ll keep out of it, I swear I will.’

Jimmy was thinking of the bigger picture. He would never truly rest until all of the Mitchells were dead, especially Eddie, but if he agreed to this deal now, it would give him plenty of time to plan the rest of their executions properly. Neither Eddie nor his sons were any man’s fools, and Jimmy wanted that fucking Raymond dead as well. Doing life in prison didn’t appeal to Jimmy one little bit and if Alice ever lost her beloved Georgie girl over his rash actions, she would never forgive him, and would probably leave him for good.

‘Well?’ Eddie asked impatiently.

Determined to make his biggest enemy sweat, Jimmy glared at him. ‘Hold your fucking horses, Mitchell. This is heavy shit and I need five minutes to think.’

Jimmy knew quite a few traveller lads in Belmarsh and even if Eddie’s heavies were looking out for Ronny and Paulie, Jimmy was sure he could bribe someone to get to them for him. He turned to Eddie; he was determined to have the last laugh, even today. ‘I’ll agree to the deal on one condition.’

‘What?’

‘I know two lads who will sort out your brothers, but they ain’t gonna do it for nothing. I want thirty grand off you so I can give ’em fifteen each.’

Eddie was gobsmacked. This was getting silly now. ‘No way. It’s bad enough I know my brothers are gonna die without paying for some bastard to do it. I can’t do that, Jimmy, it’s fucking despicable.’

For the first time in weeks, Jimmy felt like really laughing out loud, but he managed to hold it back. ‘Well, that’s my terms, so take it or leave it.’

Feeling as though his head was about to burst, Eddie sat down on a bale of hay. He hadn’t told Gary, Ricky and Raymond that he was coming to see Jimmy today and now he could never tell them. With images of his kids, his grandchildren and Gina flashing through his mind, he stood up. Their safety was his priority right now.

‘OK, you’ve got a deal. But it’s between me and you, and if you blab to anyone, including any of your family, the deal’s off.’

‘Cushti. When will I have the wonga by?’ Jimmy asked.

‘Friday. I’ll meet you in the car park of the Optimist at twelve noon.’

Jimmy smirked. ‘We gonna shake on this then?’

Eddie reluctantly shook Jimmy’s hand, and then took a slow walk back to his motor. Paying for his own brothers to be killed literally made him feel like the Devil in disguise. Picking up pace, Ed broke into a jog. He knew O’Hara had made a complete mug out of him today, but he could hardly refuse his terms; his hands were tied for now.

Feeling as sick as a dog, Eddie started his motor and drove at speed towards home. When he reached his own driveway, he got out of the Range Rover, leaned against it and pictured Ronny and Paulie’s faces. He then vomited like he’d never vomited before.

CHAPTER FOUR

Stanley Smith smiled as his lady friend, Pat, handed him a mug of steaming coffee with a big dollop of cream on top. They had only known one another for six weeks, but it felt more like six years.

Pat, or Pat the Pigeon, as she preferred to be called, had recently moved to Orsett in Essex from the East End of London. Stanley had met her in the Orsett Cock pub and there was an instant spark between them. They had since become great friends and Stanley often popped round Pat’s for a cuppa and a natter. Joyce, Stanley’s wife, had no idea of his special friendship. There was nothing untoward going on, but Joycie would probably chop his testicles off if she found out he’d been sitting in another woman’s house on a regular basis.

Unlike Joycie, Pat was a good listener. She had a caring nature, a heart of gold, and Stanley felt able to pour his problems out to her. Jessica, his daughter, had been murdered by her villainous husband Eddie Mitchell, and Pat was the only one who truly understood Stanley’s despair and heartache.

‘You’re not your usual chirpy self today, Stanley. What’s bothering you?’ Pat asked in a sympathetic tone.

Stanley stared wistfully out of Pat’s conservatory window. Unlike the house he now lived in with Joycie, Pat’s was only a two-bed semi-detached, but it was homely and it always reminded him of his and Joycie’s old property in Upney.

‘I’m OK, love. I just hate that bloody house I live in so much. I miss me old house – I was happy there.’

Pat the Pigeon nodded her head understandingly. Stanley had told her that Joycie had forced him to live in the house that had once belonged to his daughter, Jessica. Apparently, Eddie Mitchell had given the house to Joyce as some kind of compensation for accidentally shooting her and Stanley’s daughter.

‘Well, you know my views on that house, Stanley. How your Joycie can live there with everything that’s happened, I don’t know. I don’t like to speak ill of people I haven’t met, but your Joycie must be as hard as old boots. I could never have taken a gift off a man who had murdered my daughter.’

‘Well, that’s my Joycie for ya, Pat. Full of airs and graces, and I ain’t gonna change her now, she’s too long in the tooth. She loves that big house, lords it over her friends, she does, and she’ll never move, not a cat in hell’s chance. We were at it hammer and tongs arguing again this morning – drives me bleedin’ bonkers, she does. That money we’ve got left in the bank from the sale of our old house, she wants to buy a flash motor with it. Not a second-hand one, a brand bleedin’ new one. I like me old Sierra – it might not look a picture, but it drives like an angel. I mean, what do I want a poxy Mercedes at my age for? I only want a run-around to get me from A to B and to cart me pigeons about in.’

Pat smiled and nodded in agreement. She had been terribly lonely since her husband Vic had suddenly passed away, but meeting Stanley had brought some sunshine back into her life. His wife Joycie sounded like a right domineering old dragon and Pat just hoped that one day Stanley would leave Joyce, move in with her and they could live happily ever after.

‘I made a nice date and walnut cake this morning, Stanley. Shall I make us another coffee and cut you a nice big slice?’

‘Thanks, but I’d best not stuff me face, Pat. In fact, I’m gonna have to make a move in a minute. It’s Jock’s granddaughter’s twenty-first birthday and I promised him that I’d accompany him to the restaurant this evening. They’re having a little surprise do for her.’

Pat knew Jock. She had met him at the pigeon club a few times. ‘Oh, a birthday party sounds lovely. Where’s it being held, Stanley?’ she enquired, hoping for an invite.

‘Jock still lives in Barking, but his granddaughter lives in Rainham, not that far from me. They’re holding it in a poxy Chinese by the Cherry Tree somewhere. Shame it ain’t a steak-house. I don’t really like foreign food.’

When Stanley stood up, Pat stood up as well. ‘Well enjoy yourself, love. Is Joycie going with you?’

‘No, I mentioned it to her last week, but I don’t think she fancied it.’

‘Oh well, never mind. I’m sure you’ll have fun anyway. Why don’t you pop round and tell me all about it tomorrow? I can wrap the cake in foil and you can have a piece then if you like.’

Stanley smiled. Pat really seemed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed hers. ‘I’d like that, Pat. I’ll pop round about midday.’

Even when she was a young girl, Pat the Pigeon had always loved sex. She couldn’t help it; it was in her nature. She had been married to her husband, Vic, for many years and their sex life had never dwindled. When Vic had died, Pat never thought that she would fancy another man or ever have sex again. Then she’d met Stanley and, for her, it had been love at first sight. The problem was, she could tell that Stanley was a shy one and she didn’t want to put him off by being too forward. Pat ushered the object of her affections towards the front door and, as she usually did, gave Stanley a gentle peck on the cheek.

‘Bye, Stanley. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow, love.’

Over in Holloway, it was visiting time, and Joey had just given his twin sister a loving hug. ‘I’m really sorry I’m late,’ he said as he sat down opposite her. Because she was on remand, Frankie was allowed plenty of visits, but Joey’s hectic job meant he could only get up to visit her a couple of times a week.

‘So how’s the Stock Exchange? Still doing your head in, is it?’ Frankie asked. She liked to wind Joey up, but she was extremely proud of his high-flying career.

‘Brain damage, per usual. Half-eight I left the bloody office last night. No wonder most of my colleagues have cocaine instead of food for lunch; at least it keeps ’em awake.’

‘You ain’t taking cocaine, are you?’ Frankie asked suspiciously.

‘Don’t be daft. Dom would bloody kill me. There are a lot of blokes at work on it, though. Most of them are real big drinkers as well. I’m fine, I can handle the pressure and stress, but you’d be surprised how many men can’t, especially the macho, straight ones. Anyway, enough about me. How are you? You look much happier than when I came up last weekend.’

‘Well, now I’m out of that awful hospital wing, I’m sleeping so much better. The maternity wing is quite nice compared to the rest of the prison. The staff are polite and my new cellmate is lovely. Her name is Babs, she originally comes from Jamaica and we get on really well. I’ve only known her for a short while, but it feels like we’ve been mates for years.’

Joey was pleased by the change in his sister. Her mood had been so low on a couple of his previous visits that he hadn’t really known what to say to her. He’d cried once as he had left the prison because he’d felt so bloody helpless.

‘So, what’s your friend Babs in here for? Is she convicted, or on remand like you?’

Frankie leaned forward so nobody could hear what she was saying. ‘Babs is on remand and she’s in here for stabbing her boyfriend as well. He died and now she’s looking at life, poor cow.’

Horrified that his sister was sharing her cell with a murderer, Joey clasped her hands in his. ‘Be careful, Frankie. Watch she don’t turn on you.’

‘Babs is one of the most sweet-natured people I’ve ever met in my life, Joey. Her bloke was far worse than Jed and I don’t blame Babs for killing him. Any woman would have done the same in her situation.’

‘What did he do? I won’t say nothing, I promise,’ Joey said in a hushed tone.

Frankie leaned over and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘He raped her twelve-year-old daughter, the fucking nonce. The bastard deserved to die, don’t you think?’ she whispered.

Joey nodded dumbly. This conversation was getting a bit heavy for him and he was desperate to change it. ‘Dad popped round the other day. He didn’t stay long; I think he’s got a lot on his plate over what Paulie and Ronny did. He’s even sent Gina away to stay with her mate. I think he’s lonely in that cottage on his own.’

‘What! Is he living with her then?’

Cursing himself for putting his foot in it, Joey lowered his eyes and looked sheepish. ‘I thought you knew they were living together. Gina’s really lovely, Frankie. If you gave her a chance, I know you’d like her.’

Fuming that her father had forgotten to mention that he’d moved his old tart in, Frankie glared at Joey. ‘Unlike you, I’m loyal to our mum. You might wanna be friends with the old slapper, but I don’t. She probably only got her claws into Dad ’cause she knows he’s a face and he’s worth a few quid.’

Joey shrugged. He wasn’t about to argue, because when Frankie had one of her cobs on she could be a complete bitch. He changed the subject yet again. ‘I wonder how Georgie and Harry are coping? Do you reckon Jed and Alice are looking after them properly? Dom and I miss them dreadfully, so I hate to think how you must feel.’

Frankie’s face hardened. She’d spoken about her children to Babs and she couldn’t help constantly dreaming about them, but at all other times she tried not to think about Georgie and Harry as it upset her too much. Knowing the O’Haras had custody of her children was pure torture and Frankie could not deal with it. ‘I don’t wanna talk about the kids, Joey. I can’t, OK?’

Noticing tears in his sister’s eyes, Joey gently squeezed her arm. ‘You’ll get them back one day, I know you will, Frankie.’

Frankie ignored his comment. ‘How’s Nan and Grandad? Have you seen them lately?’

Joey shook his head. ‘What with being so busy at work and visiting you up here, I haven’t had much chance to pop round there. Nan rang me at work the other day, invited me and Dom to dinner this Sunday, so we’ll see them then. She was ranting and raving about Grandad on the phone, something about a new car. You know what they’re like, Frankie, they don’t change.’

Frankie smiled. Her grandparents had never got on, but it was her nan who threw all the insults – her poor grandad had never had the guts to retaliate.

Desperate to get an answer to what had been playing on his mind, Joey leaned forward. ‘Kerry rang me late last night; she wants to come and visit you. I spoke to her for ages and even though she wouldn’t tell me much, I know something really bad happened, Frankie. Why did you really try to kill Jed? We’ve never kept secrets from one another before, so please tell me the truth.’

Frankie’s heart urged her to open up to her brother, but her head told her not to. Joey was close to her father again. He was also a gossiper, especially in drink, and if he blurted out the truth, all hell would break loose. Her dad’s life was probably already in danger because of what her uncles had done to Jed’s family and if she told Joey that Jed had tortured and murdered their grandfather, Harry, carnage would be sure to follow. Frankie knew just how evil Jed was and the thought of her dad or brothers getting killed was enough to make Frankie keep schtum for ever more. Relieved that the bell was ringing to signal the end of visiting time, Frankie stood up and hugged her twin brother.

‘You take care and give my love to Dom,’ she said.

Joey pulled away from her and stared deep into her eyes. ‘You haven’t answered my question yet, Frankie.’

‘I wish I could answer it, Joey, but I’m sorry, I can’t,’ Frankie replied. She then walked away without a backward glance.

Stanley Smith was not having the best of evenings. When he was a lad he had been taken to one of the first Chinese restaurants ever to open in London. He had no memory of whereabouts exactly it was, but he did remember that he had been taken there because it was his Auntie Agnes’s fortieth birthday. The evening itself was nothing to write home about, but what did stick in Stanley’s mind was that he was forced to eat some kind of fish heads, then on the way home he got a clip round the earhole from his mother because he spewed his guts up over some poor bloke on the train. Ever since that day, Stanley had avoided eating Chinese food like the plague.

‘So what do you fancy then, Stanley?’ Jock said, handing him a menu.

Stanley glanced at the menu and immediately felt queasy. ‘Don’t they do any English food, Jock? I ain’t a lover of rice or bleedin’ noodles, mate. I had food poisoning on this shit once.’

Jock laughed and called one of the waiters over. He explained Stanley’s predicament and the waiter turned to Stanley. ‘We do very nice omelette and very nice chip.’

‘Yeah, that’ll do, mate,’ Stanley said politely.

As Jock chatted to his granddaughter, Stanley studied the rest of the company. They were all bloody youngsters and he felt about as out of place as a Nigerian at a National Front march.

‘You remember my daughter Louise, don’t you?’ Jock asked, as he excused himself to go to the toilet.

Stanley hadn’t seen Jock’s daughter for a good few years and she had put on that much weight he would never have recognised her unless Jock had told him who she was.

‘Hello, love. You look well,’ Stanley lied.

‘Ah, thanks Stanley. How are you keeping? Your Joycie still looks well, don’t she? I saw her recently in a pub.’

‘What pub? She never said, where did you see her, Louise?’

Louise sat down on the chair next to Stanley. ‘In the Bull in Romford. I work behind the bar in there at lunchtimes. To be honest, I didn’t speak to her, Stanley. I’ve put on a lot of weight recently, so she probably wouldn’t have recognised me anyway. Not only that, she was with Eddie Mitchell and I didn’t wanna make meself busy.’

About to swallow a sip of his beer, Stanley very nearly choked. He spat the beer back into the glass. ‘Eddie Mitchell! It couldn’t have been my Joycie. We’ve had nothing to do with him since my Jessica died.’

‘It was definitely Joyce. I was always round your house years ago and she still looks the bleedin’ same. I could hear her chatting and laughing with Eddie. There ain’t many people got a full-on laugh like your Joyce has, Stanley.’

Feeling the colour drain from his cheeks, Stanley grabbed Louise’s arm. ‘Are you sure it was Eddie with her? Think carefully, because this is important.’

Louise was rather merry. She also wasn’t the brightest of girls and didn’t even realise she’d said the wrong thing. ‘Of course I’m sure it was Eddie. Everyone knows who Eddie Mitchell is, don’t they? Blimey, Stanley, my mate Carol went out with him before he got with your Jess, so I know what he bloody well looks like. He even bonked Carol in the back of his car once while I was sitting in the passenger seat like a bloody gooseberry.’

‘Whatever’s the matter, Stanley?’ Jock asked, as he returned to the table and clocked his pal’s deathly white face.

Stanley ignored him and turned back to Louise. ‘How long ago did you see them in the pub together?’

‘About six or seven weeks ago,’ Louise replied, necking the rest of the wine in her glass. She had just sort of realised that something was amiss when her dad had shaken his head frantically behind Stanley’s back and she didn’t fancy any agg with Eddie Mitchell. She stood up and smiled. ‘Perhaps I got it wrong, Stanley. My eyes play me up terrible sometimes. In fact, I’m going to have an eye test next week to see if I need glasses.’

Stanley knew without a doubt that Louise was lying. He stood up just as the waiter reappeared.

‘Omelette and chip, sir.’

Filled with anger and betrayal, Stanley pushed the waiter, who then unfortunately dropped the plate on the floor.

‘Stanley!’ Jock yelled, as he chased his friend out of the restaurant.

‘Leave me alone, Jock,’ Stanley warned. ‘You knew about this, didn’t ya? Go on, fucking admit it.’

Jock at least had the sense to look shamefaced. ‘I’m so sorry, Stanley. I didn’t wanna get involved, I knew how you’d react and I didn’t wanna cause no trouble between you and your Joycie.’

Stanley turned to Jock with a look of pure hatred on his face. ‘You were meant to be my poxy mate!’ he screamed.

‘I am your mate, but everyone knows what Eddie Mitchell is capable of and like most people, I don’t wanna cross him. I’ve gotta think of my own family’s safety, ain’t I?’

As Jock turned to grab his arm, Stanley roughly pushed him away. He then walked towards him and, as Jock backed into a wall, Stanley pointed his forefinger into his face. ‘Me and you are finished, Jock and don’t you ever fucking contact me again.’

Full of pent-up rage, Stanley turned on his heel and stormed over to his car. He had been betrayed by the two people closest to him in the worst possible way and he would never forgive either of them until the day he died.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Are you OK, Frankie? You been ever so quiet since visiting time. Did your brother upset you or something?’ Babs asked her cellmate.

Frankie sat down on the edge of her bed. ‘I’m OK, it’s just I’ve been thinking about my kids a lot today. I try not to as a rule, because it upsets me too much, but sometimes you just can’t help it, can you?’

Babs stood up, walked over to Frankie’s bed and sat down next to her. ‘Look, don’t feel you have to, but I feel so much better inside for telling you my story, so if you wanna tell me yours, I’m a good listener. Like me, you’re a lovely person, Frankie, and I know something bad must have happened to you as well.’

Frankie bowed her head and stared at her feet. Her dad had always told her to be careful to whom she told things. ‘Tell no bastard nothing, Frankie, especially someone you’ve only known five minutes’, he’d always say.

Frankie turned to Babs. She might have only known her new friend for what her dad would call ‘five minutes’, but gut instinct told Frankie that she could trust her. Not only that, she was desperate to share her burden with somebody, so she took a deep breath and started right at the beginning.

‘I met Jed on my sixteenth birthday in a club in Rainham called the Berwick Manor. I was there with Joey and my friends and it was the first time we’d been to a proper nightclub. We usually just went to a local pub, but the Berwick held these rave nights and we were all desperate to try it ’cause everyone had said how good they were. Anyway, I met Jed at the bar and I was instantly smitten by him. He was good looking, confident and charming and he had the most beautiful bright green eyes that I’d ever seen. We got chatting, he bought me a drink and it wasn’t until we swapped names that I realised who he was. Apparently, we’d met once before when we were kids.’

‘Whaddya mean, who he was? Was he famous or something?’ Babs asked, intrigued.

Frankie shook her head. ‘He was the son of my dad’s biggest enemy. My dad’s a bit of a face, you know, a sort of gangster, and for years he had this feud going with a bloke called Jimmy O’Hara. Well, it turned out that Jed was Jimmy’s son.’

Babs knew a lot of drug dealers like her ex, Dennis, who were into prostitution rackets and similar stuff, but most of them were scumbags. She didn’t know any real gangsters. ‘So, is your dad like the Krays or something?’

Frankie shrugged. ‘Sort of, I suppose. He’s a moneylender and he’s got his fingers in loads of other pies. He comes out of Canning Town originally, but he’s quite famous all over. I don’t know too much about the businesses he runs, but I do know everyone’s shit-scared of him. Every school me and Joey attended, everybody wanted to be our friend because of who our dad was.’

‘Wow, that’s well cool,’ Babs said, in awe.

‘Anyway, getting back to Jed. Knowing who he was, I should never have got involved with him in the first place. I knew if and when my dad found out there’d be murders, but I was so young and naïve, I just couldn’t help myself. Jed was so sexy and I’d never felt that way about any boy before. To be honest, I’d never really had a proper relationship before Jed.’

‘So, what happened next?’

‘Well, we started dating and we both fell in love. With everything that’s happened since, I do often wonder if Jed ever really loved me at the time, or if he was just trying to get one over on my dad, but I don’t think he was. At first, I’m sure Jed really did love me.’

Babs was fascinated. When she was at school, she’d been in the play Romeo and Juliet and the way Frankie was telling her story reminded Babs of it in some strange sort of way. ‘Tell me more,’ she said, as she put a comforting arm around Frankie’s shoulder.

‘I fell pregnant with Georgie within months of meeting Jed. I didn’t know what to do, so I told my brother. Joey advised me to have an abortion. He said Dad would go mental, but I couldn’t do that, Babs, so I told Jed about the baby.’

‘What did he say?’

‘Jed was really pleased. He’s a travelling boy, you know, a gypsy, and they all have their kids young. He even proposed to me, but when my dad found out, everything went dreadfully wrong.’

‘So, what did your dad do? Did he beat Jed up, or what?’

Frankie shook her head. ‘As a kid I was always a daddy’s girl. Joey was very close to my mum, he never used to get on that well with my dad, but I did. My dad adored me. Because Jed was Jimmy O’Hara’s son, I couldn’t face telling Dad what I’d done. He would have been so angry and disappointed in me, so I took the coward’s way out. Jed and me, we hid behind a bush until my dad went out, then I went indoors and told my mum. My Uncle Raymond was there, he worked for my dad, and he went mental and tried to lock me in the house, but Jed confronted him, then we legged it back to his. Jed only lived down the road; he had his own trailer on his father’s land.’

Frankie paused. She didn’t even want to think about Jed, let alone remember her romance with the evil bastard, but she had to carry on now and once she had told Babs, she would never tell anyone ever again. ‘It was Jed’s idea to go to Tilbury. His dad had a trailer there on an old scrapyard and Jed said my dad would never find us there, but he did.’

‘What did your dad do, Frankie?’

Reliving the memories as though it was yesterday, Frankie started to cry. Her mum had died that night and, looking back, she now realised it was all mainly her fault. When Frankie’s cries turned to painful sobs, Babs held her friend’s shaking body to her own. She soothed Frankie by stroking her long, dark hair.

‘Sssh, it’s OK, sweet child. You have a lie down and get some rest. If you wanna talk again later, we can, and if you don’t, then that’s fine by me.’

Joycie Smith was thoroughly enjoying the latest episode of her favourite soap. She always prerecorded EastEnders and watched it when Stanley wasn’t about, as his constant jibes and criticism of the programme often resulted in an argument.

‘Load of old bleedin’ codswallop. Ain’t nothing like the real East End. I should know, I was born within the sound of Bow bloody Bells,’ Stanley would constantly chirp.

Sipping a drop of sherry, Joyce put her glass down and clapped her hands in glee as her current fancy man appeared on the screen. Up until recently, Joycie’s only love interest had been that Eamonn Holmes off GMTV, but since that dishy David Wicks had appeared in EastEnders, Eamonn had taken a back seat in her affections.

Fantasising that David Wicks was snogging her instead of the actress playing his girlfriend, Joyce was annoyed as she heard Stanley’s car pull up outside. ‘Bleedin’ nuisance,’ she mumbled as she pressed pause.

‘What are you doing home? I thought you were going for a meal with Jock,’ Joyce shouted as she heard his key in the lock.

Stanley marched into the room, his face as black as thunder. He walked towards his wife and stared at her with a look of pure repugnance. ‘How could you, Joycie? How fucking could you?’

Joyce was stunned. What was she meant to have done? Surely Stanley didn’t think she was having an affair or something. ‘Whatever you on about? You silly old sod.’

Stanley had never hit a woman in his life, but he’d been made so furious by his wife’s betrayal that he could have quite easily knocked her from one side of the room to the other. Restraining himself, he instead pointed a finger in her face. ‘You have been fraternising with the enemy, Joycie. I know all about you meeting Eddie Mitchell in the Bull in Romford. How could you sit there laughing and joking with that bastard when he obliterated our daughter? You absolutely repulse me. In fact, I fucking hate your guts.’

Shocked by her husband’s contorted expression and harsh words, Joycie decided to be truthful with him. ‘It’s not what you think, Stanley. I only met up with Eddie the once to sort things out between him and Joey. It’s what Jessica would have wanted and I did it for her.’

‘Don’t you dare say you did it for our daughter. I know exactly why you met up with him – ’cause you love being associated with the villainous bastard, you always have done. You only encouraged our Jess to marry him because he was a face and that gave you something to brag about. In that warped, fucked-up mind of yours, our daughter ending up with a notorious gangster gave you the street-cred you’d always craved. Well, let me tell you something, Joycie, you are a nasty little nobody, and none of them people you used to brag to even fucking liked you. Even your friends Rita and Hilda can’t bastard well stand ya – no one can. You’re an evil old dragon; everybody knows exactly what you’re like.’

Livid that Stanley had brought her friends into the argument, Joyce knocked his dumpy finger away from her face, stood up and gave him a dose of his own medicine. ‘You wicked, bald-headed old bastard! How dare you call me a nobody! If anybody’s a nobody in this house, it’s you, Stanley. You have no style about you, no bloody class, and that’s why you always hated Eddie Mitchell from the word go, because he was something that you wasn’t. I loved my Jessica more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and if I can accept that what happened was an accident, then why can’t you? Both Frankie and Joey have forgiven their father – they know how much he loved their mum – but no, not you, you have to be the odd one out, Stanley. Bitter, twisted and full of grudges, that’s what you are.’

Unable to control his boiling temper any longer, Stanley lifted his right hand and slapped Joyce fiercely around the face. ‘You are poison, Joycie, and I’m leaving you. In fact, I want a divorce.’

As Stanley stomped out of the living room, for the first time in donkey’s years Joyce was left totally struck dumb.

Back in Holloway, Frankie had stopped crying and was now ready to continue her story. ‘Where was I?’ she asked.

‘You and Jed had fled to the trailer in Tilbury,’ Babs reminded her.

‘Oh yeah. Well, my mum rang my mobile, said that my dad was on the warpath and she asked if she could come and see me to sort things out. She was so sweet, my mum, she was beautiful and everybody loved her, Babs. Anyway, I gave her the address, but not long after she’d turned up, my dad and uncle Raymond turned up as well, so my mum hid under the bed. My uncle kidnapped me; he bundled me into a car and drove off. He didn’t know that my mum was there, but he’d put tape over my mouth and my hands were tied up, so I couldn’t even tell him. Finally he realised something was wrong and he stopped the car. When I told him that my mum was in the trailer, his face went white and he drove straight back there. But, we were too late. By the time we got back there, my beautiful mum was already dead.’

As Frankie began to cry once more, Babs rested her young friend’s head on her shoulder. ‘If it’s too upsetting for you to talk about your mum’s death, just tell me what happened with Jed,’ Babs suggested.

Frankie nodded, then wiped her eyes with the cuff of her sweatshirt. Talking about her mother’s demise was still far too raw and she couldn’t relive it – it was too awful for words. ‘Well, after my mum, you know, died, my dad got put in prison and I moved in properly with Jed. Things started to go downhill almost immediately. I hated his mother and I couldn’t adapt to what he called “a traveller’s way of life”. By that time I was trapped, though. I was pregnant with Georgie, my mum and dad weren’t there to help me, and I wasn’t even speaking to my grandparents. Jed was a bastard. He knew I couldn’t run away ’cause I had nowhere to run to, so he did exactly as he pleased. I was so naïve, Babs. I used to think that he was actually working when he stayed out all night, but he was out shagging other birds. Jed was such a convincing storyteller, even God would have believed his lies.’

Babs squeezed Frankie’s hand. ‘Don’t beat yourself up for believing him. They’re all lying bastards – trust me on that one, honey.’

Frankie smiled gratefully, then carried on talking. ‘Looking back now, apart from right at the beginning, I can’t believe that I ever really loved Jed. I mean, how can you love someone who tries to strangle you and gives you black eyes regularly? And I’m sure the night Harry was conceived, Jed practically raped me.’

‘You can easily love an evil man like that, because I did it also, remember?’

‘He even got another girl pregnant while we were together and I still forgave him, but one day I woke up and I felt differently. The love I’d had for him had turned to hate and I wanted him out of mine and my children’s lives.’

‘So, is that why you stabbed him then?’

Frankie fell silent for thirty seconds or so. Apart from her friend, Kerry, nobody knew the real reason that she had stabbed Jed, and she was weighing up whether she should tell Babs or not. She turned to her cellmate. She had barely spoken to Kerry for weeks and she had to tell somebody the secret that was burning a hole in her heart.