by Emma Tallon
Freddie studied him. His gut told him that hiring Tom was a bad idea. He wasn’t strong enough and although he liked him, Freddie always asked himself one question when he took a new man on – would I trust him with my life? Freddie didn’t know if he could put that level of trust in Tom. He felt torn though. If Tom was going to be part of all their lives now that he was with Tanya, he couldn’t ignore him forever.
‘Please, Freddie,’ Tom continued. He shot a look towards the hallway. ‘I need to do something more with my life. Tanya has the club and now this second one… I feel useless. I’m nowhere near her level,’ he said unhappily. ‘How can I expect her to look at me with respect and pride when I spend the rest of my days earning a pittance by breaking my back under someone else’s command? Christ, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to be the loser boyfriend forever.’
Freddie frowned and shook his head. ‘Firstly, you aren’t a loser and I know Tanya has never seen you that way. You forget, people like her and me, we came from humble backgrounds and that’s not something we ever forget. Tanya will always have respect for someone who’s working hard in life, no matter what level they’re at.’
‘Well, that’s OK for you to say,’ Tom replied. ‘You don’t have to sit like a twat in a swanky restaurant that your girlfriend picked, waiting while she pays the bill. Do you know how that feels?’
Freddie tilted his head in acknowledgement. No, he didn’t know how that felt and he wouldn’t want to either. ‘Alright, look,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll give you the job. You’ll be on probation and you’ll have to prove your worth like anybody else. There are no free rides, got it?’
‘Got it. Thank you, Freddie,’ Tom replied gratefully. ‘And um, the other part?’
‘I’m not going to put you on my payroll. You aren’t what I’m looking for.’ Freddie watched the disappointment appear on the other man’s face. ‘But here’s what I will do. If I need an extra set of hands on something, or something requiring your set of skills comes up, I’ll give you a shot.’ Tom’s eyes lit up in hope. ‘I’m promising nothing. But we’ll see. If that happens and you prove to be an asset, we’ll talk.’
‘OK, thank you, Freddie. I really appreciate that,’ Tom said with a big smile. He held up his mug. ‘Cheers. To possibilities and opportunities,’ he said.
Freddie clinked his coffee to Tom’s and smiled. He hoped he had made the right decision.
Twenty minutes later, as she finished applying her liquid eyeliner, Tanya heard Freddie shout out a goodbye to her. She shouted one back and placed her make-up back in its bag. Rubbing her glossy lips together in the mirror and checking herself over one more time, Tanya nodded in approval and went to find Tom.
‘There you are,’ she purred, giving him a winning smile. He was in the kitchen, tidying up the cups he had just used. Tom was meticulously tidy, all the time. It was something Tanya found she really liked about him. She didn’t like clutter or mess either. ‘Good guy chat?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, hope you don’t mind me inviting him over here?’ Tom said.
‘No, not at all.’
Although they were pretty serious and Tom spent almost every night there, Tanya had not invited him to live with her. The flat was still completely hers and despite the love and trust she felt towards Tom, she liked to keep that last line of defence up. Just in case.
‘So, what did you guys talk about?’ she asked casually.
‘Freddie offered me a job, actually. I was pretty surprised,’ Tom lied. He didn’t want to tell Tanya that he had begged Freddie for the position.
‘But you have a job,’ Tanya replied. A feeling of worry began to curl up through her stomach. Tanya had been part of the shady underworld of London once, and understood the game well. She had no problem with it; it was just part of life in this city and Freddie was underworld royalty. But Tom was just a nice, normal guy. He wasn’t whiter than white, of course, but he also wasn’t part of Freddie’s world and Tanya liked that. She liked that their relationship was uncomplicated by all the issues that way of life could bring.
‘Yeah, I wasn’t exactly looking, of course, but what he’s offering would be a huge step up for me and the money is a lot better too. It’s too juicy to turn down.’ Tom smiled.
Yeah, I’ll bet… thought Tanya darkly. She paused before answering, working out the best approach.
‘What is the job?’ she asked eventually.
‘Foreman,’ he answered. ‘He has a friend who runs a building company; they work together on a few projects. He just said the job’s mine if I want it.’
‘How neatly tied up,’ Tanya answered.
Tom’s eager smile faltered. ‘You’re not happy – is it because it’s Freddie? I know people say working with friends don’t always work out, but you and Anna manage OK. And I wouldn’t mess it up. I never let anyone down – I’m not like that.’ He frowned, upset.
‘No…’ Tanya shook her head and laid her hand on his muscular forearm. ‘It’s not you I’m worried about. You’re amazing at your job; you should have been promoted years ago. It’s just… how much do you know about what Freddie does? Really?’ she asked.
Tom shrugged and looked away. He knew plenty, and he wanted a piece of the pie. He knew Tanya wouldn’t like this though, so tried to answer casually. ‘I know he owns a few clubs, has some property. And that he’s involved with some big building projects.’ He paused and then exhaled through his nose. ‘Look, I know Freddie ain’t all kosher, alright? I know he does a few shady deals, I’ve heard the talk, but come on, who doesn’t at his level?’
Tanya licked her lips nervously. Tom didn’t understand who Freddie was. No civilians did really. It was all just rumour and gossip, if you weren’t in the know. She needed to explain it so that Tom understood what he would be stepping into, but without outright telling him the details. It wasn’t done. She spoke carefully.
‘Freddie… has fingers in a lot of pies. Most of which are a bit more than just shady. He’s done things…’ She struggled to find the right way to phrase it. ‘He just ain’t quite who you think he is. It’s a dangerous thing, to get too close to Freddie. Professionally speaking. You are your own person and this is your decision, but I just want you to understand the situation fully. If you take this job, you’re in Freddie’s pocket. And it won’t come without a price.’ Tanya bit her lip. She had said enough. Probably too much, if she was honest.
‘You think he’s just trying to use me?’ he asked, feigning concern.
‘No, I don’t,’ Tanya answered honestly. ‘He wouldn’t offer you any job if he didn’t think you were the right person and if he didn’t trust you. But he will ask things of you, Tom. And I can guarantee you they won’t be above board and they’ll probably be things you aren’t OK with. And at that stage you won’t have a choice. This is the last point at which you’ll have a real choice,’ Tanya stressed. She fiddled anxiously with a button on her shirt.
She wouldn’t ask him not to take it, though she desperately wanted to. It was his life. Tanya didn’t believe in treating Tom any differently to the way she expected to be treated by him. And she would never have accepted being told what to do, if the situation was reversed.
Tom stepped forward and held her gently at the tops of her tightly crossed arms. He looked down at her with love in his eyes.
‘You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big boy,’ he said, his warm smile creeping into his tone. ‘And I’m OK with having to do a few things for Freddie in return for getting me such a good position. I wanna take it, Tan. It’s exactly what I need to move up in my career and you know what, I could do with the extra money.’
‘I have enough for both of us—’
‘Yes, but, Tanya, you pay for almost everything we do. And I hate it,’ he said honestly, his eyes beseeching her to understand. ‘I love how generous and big-hearted you are, I really do. You’re amazing. But as a man, it gets to me sometimes that I can’t be the one to treat you to the more expensive things.’ He looked down at
his feet, embarrassed.
Tanya’s heart reached out to him, this big, handsome man that she loved so much. She hadn’t realised how he felt. She had never really thought about it, because the difference in their financial states had never bothered her.
‘You know I don’t care about all that,’ she said softly.
‘I know you don’t. But I do. I want to feel like I rule the world one day, Tan, and I can’t do it sitting still.’
She nodded. That was that then. Tom would accept this new position and Freddie would have a new recruit for the firm. She could have happily punched Freddie if he had still been there, but of course she never would. She would never say anything. It was done. The decision was made and now she would just have to hope for the best.
3
Freddie and Paul strode into the warehouse. It was a large space filled with gym equipment on one side, and a social seating area and full-sized boxing ring on the other. Most of the floor around the ring had been covered by interlocking rubber tiles. Freddie preferred them to mats – they stayed in place rather than sliding around when the boxers jumped down.
A few large men were pumping weights on the gym side, music booming from a sound system held on the wall by a bracket. They all paused and nodded their respect to Freddie when he walked in. Everyone knew who owned this gym. A few years before, Freddie had bought the warehouse in one of the more rundown areas of the East End, on the estate he himself had come from, and transformed it almost overnight. It was his way of giving something back to the community. Anyone who lived in the area was allowed membership for free. Anyone outside of it had to pay. Not that there were many people outside of the estate who would want to venture in.
He looked around and felt the same nostalgia as always whenever he walked in. It wasn’t the gym their dad had taken them to when they were kids, of course, but it was very similar. It had the same smell of rubber and sweat when you walked through the doors. It held the same promise to the young fighters of today as it did back then, the air filled with an almost tangible current of determination and purpose.
Freddie had been just ten when his father had died, leaving them alone and without male guidance in this world. Boxing had been his Dad’s passion and he’d passed it on to his sons. Keeping it alive somehow felt to Freddie like he was keeping a part of his father alive too.
Freddie and Paul turned towards the boxing ring and, taking a seat in the social area, watched two young men spar with one another. An older man with a weathered face sat down next to Freddie.
‘How ya keeping, Craig?’ Freddie asked, without taking his eyes off the boys in the ring. Craig had been a good friend of their father’s, sharing the same passion for the sport. He had since passed this onto his own son, these days too old to get into the ring himself.
‘Ahh, I’m stickin’ out, lad, stickin’ out.’ Craig’s thick Irish accent crackled out as he spoke, his voice hoarse from years of chain-smoking. ‘What de’ya think to ma boy?’ He motioned up towards the ring and glanced at Freddie. ‘He hasn’t been beaten in six counties, bareknuckle or gloved. He’s quick and he never tires.’
‘So you say,’ Freddie replied. ‘He’s certainly got skill. What does he want out of life?’
Craig wasn’t surprised by the question. ‘Not much really. He ain’t all that clever with the books – his schooling didn’t go so well. This is all he knows. But he does it well and he’s a good boy too. Doesn’t ask questions, does as he’s bid.’ Craig nodded to himself, proud of the son he was discussing.
‘Mm,’ Freddie murmured. ‘This won’t last forever though. Bring him over.’
‘Seamus,’ Craig called. The broader of the two boys looked over. ‘Get ye’self over here, lad. Come and meet the Tylers.’
The boy jumped down, taking off the boxing gloves and throwing them back into the ring. He wiped his hands on his black knee-length shorts and straightened his back. He reached them and paused.
‘I would offer you my hand, Mr Tyler, but I don’t want to get you all sweaty,’ he said apologetically. He looked at his father anxiously, as if worried he had said the wrong thing.
‘No worries, mate.’ Freddie chuckled. ‘I’m Freddie – this is Paul.’
‘Nice to meet you both.’ Though still very clearly evident, the lilting Irish accent was not so thick in Seamus’s voice.
‘And you, son. How old are ya?’ Paul asked.
‘Just turned eighteen.’
‘And how long have you been competing in the backroom leagues?’
‘Three years.’
‘Why do you think you always win, Seamus?’ Freddie interjected, his voice carefully flat.
Seamus blinked and considered this for a moment. ‘I don’t know. I’d say it’s part skill, part luck and a touch of the good Lord’s grace.’
‘And,’ Craig interrupted, ‘because he’s the best.’
Freddie turned his attention to Craig. ‘You would think that, you’re his dad. And he may well be. But if he thought that, I wouldn’t be interested. Believing you’re the best only makes you sloppy.’
Craig acknowledged this with a tilt of the head. ‘Fair point.’
Seamus looked from one to the other, waiting for further questions. His breathing was still heavy from the fight, his bare chest rising and falling. He had the look of a typical young Irish man; pale skin, dark hair and blue eyes fringed by long, dark lashes. His lips were full and his face flushed from the exertion.
Freddie looked the boy up and down as Seamus continued to answer Paul’s questions. He had potential and he came from good stock. Craig had grafted in their world all his life – he knew what was what. The boy seemed pretty straight so far.
‘You ever broken an arm, Seamus?’ Freddie asked casually. Seamus didn’t flinch.
‘Twice. Once by accident,’ he replied earnestly.
Freddie saw Paul turn his head away to hide a grin and Craig rolled his eyes.
‘OK. Did it bother you?’
‘No. Well, the accidental one did – he was me best friend – but the other one had it coming.’
‘You work? Other than your boxing, I mean.’
‘Yes, I work shifts down the packing factory. Not great money but it’s steady.’
Freddie took a cigarette out and lit it, offering the packet to Craig and Paul who each took one. He offered it to Seamus who declined, shaking his head.
‘No thank you. I don’t smoke.’
‘Good.’ Freddie blew out a long puff of smoke. ‘Don’t start either. I’m going to offer you a job, Seamus. A trial period at first, to make sure you have what it takes. On the boxing side, I’ll have you here training every morning with Robbie from seven till ten, got it?’ Seamus nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. ‘You’ll train until Robbie tells me you’re ready, then we’ll get you on the circuit. When that day comes’ – he put weight behind his words – ‘there will be games I expect you to throw and rounds I expect you to finish in. Are you OK with that? It’s fine if you’re not, but you tell me now.’
‘I understand, Mr Tyler. This is a business.’ Seamus already knew that this would be asked of him and had come to terms with it. He knew that his father had put a good word in to get him this opportunity, and another like it was unlikely to come along again.
‘Good. On top of that, once your morning training is over each day, you’ll work directly for me. You’d resign from the factory today. Every afternoon, every evening, seven days a week you’ll need to be available to do jobs for me, as and when I require you to. It could be anything from picking up a package to breaking another arm. Some jobs are dirty and not much fun. But I need someone to do them. Someone who is one hundred per cent loyal to me, and who I can trust to keep his mouth shut in any circumstance.’ Freddie searched Seamus’s expression for any doubt, but all he saw was excitement and focus. ‘In return you will be well paid and – not that it looks like you need it – you’ll be under my protection. I’ll start you on a monkey a week, plus a bit extra i
f I throw any particularly dirty jobs your way. You’ll start at the bottom of the ladder but there’s plenty of room for you to work your way up if you graft hard and do well. That’s my offer. Have a think about it and let me know.’
‘I don’t need to think about it, Mr Tyler,’ Seamus answered quickly. ‘I want to accept and I just want to say that I’ll make ye pleased that you took me on. I’ll be more useful than any other fella ye can think of.’
Seamus was ecstatic. He couldn’t believe his luck. Five hundred pounds a week sounded like a fortune to him after the crappy wage he’d been getting at the factory. And a job working directly for Freddie Tyler himself! It was like all his Christmases had come at once. He knew he hadn’t much to offer the legal business world. This was the best opportunity he could have dreamed of.
‘Alright, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves yet. It’s a trial. I’ll see how you go,’ Freddie replied to the eager young lad. ‘Be here tomorrow to meet Robbie, seven sharp.’ He stood up and held his hand out to Craig. Craig took it and shook it.
‘Thanks, Freddie.’
‘No thanks needed – he’s going to have to work hard for it. I’ll see ya, Craig.’
‘Sees ye later, Freddie, Paul.’
Freddie walked away, happy with the outcome. Seamus was exactly the kind of person he’d been looking for. Aside from the boxing, he would do nicely as someone to train up in the other businesses. Seamus wasn’t like Tom. He was from their world; he’d grown up in it.
Paul pulled a wedge of fifty-pound notes out of his pocket and counted out five hundred. He handed it to Seamus. ‘There’s this week’s wage. Someone will drop it off to you here every Friday morning. Enjoy.’
Paul chuckled to himself as he walked away. The boy had stared at the pile of notes as though he had just won the lottery. He tried to remember back to the days where five hundred quid had seemed like a lot of money. That was a long time ago now. Which just went to show how far they had come.