by Martina Cole
Mary looked at her friend, at her open face and her easy-going kindness; envied her the way she could breeze through life without any real problems. This was exacerbated by the fact that she could never tell her about the real circumstances of her own life. Could never let on about the abortion that passed for her everyday existence. She was still comforted though, felt easier just knowing her friend was there and cared about her. It had to be enough, she knew the truth of her life would not be welcomed by any of the people important to her.
She was tired out and she was also desperate for a drink, a real drink, not the watered-down orange juice she was sipping out of habit. She smiled at her friend and sighed before saying quietly, ‘How’s Danny taken his father’s death?’
Now that her brother had left the pair of them alone she felt brave enough to enquire as to her husband’s frame of mind.
‘Not good, mare, in fact, he seems to be a bit too calm and collected to me. But then I think a suicide is something that no one knows how to react to, do they? It was such a brutal death as well. He put the gun into his mouth and shot his brains out.’
Carole shut up then, unsure if she should have been so honest considering that poor Mary was already in bits, but she was also worried about poor Danny Boy as well. After all, he had received a double blow, his father’s death, and the loss of his child. She knew Michael was unsure of what to do for the best where his sister and her husband were concerned, and she was hoping that she could take some of the burden from him. He was expected to keep things going until everything settled down once more, however long that might take.
‘How have Ange and the others taken it?’
Mary was asking because she knew it was expected of her, not because she had any real interest at all. In fact, she was glad he was gone, it was one less thing to worry about where her husband was concerned.
‘Annie found him, and it’s hit her hard. As for Ange, well, she is devastated obviously, as is Jonjo. Though I think Jonjo is mainly feeling guilt. He had no time for him really, did he?’
Mary shook her head sadly and both women were quiet for a few moments. Then, grasping her friend’s hand firmly in both of her own, and hugging it to her chest tightly, she said, sorrowfully, ‘Look, Mary, I can’t help being worried about you. They said you had passed out in the bath. Are you all right? Do they know what caused it?’
Mary extricated herself as gently as she could from her friend’s embrace without causing offence and, shrugging lightly, she held out her hands in a gesture of supplication.
‘No, Carole, they say it’s just another one of those things. No real reason for it and, with my previous miscarriage, I don’t think they even really look for a reason. And, let’s face it, there’s far too much going on to dwell on the loss of another baby. If I think about it too much it will break my heart all over again.’
Carole nodded almost imperceptibly before whispering, ‘Will you be all right, Mary?’
The question was loaded and they both knew it; this was the first time Carole had ever hinted at her problem. Mary saw her chance and took it, grabbed at it with both hands. Relying on Carole’s innate sense of fair play. ‘Could you do me a favour, Carole? Bring me in a bottle of vodka? I need something to take the edge off all that’s happened. They keep trying to make me take antidepressants, but I don’t want to get hooked on pills. I just need to sleep, that’s all, and a few drinks might be the answer.’
Carole felt that her friend drank far too much as it was, but she was also aware of the extreme circumstances that caused her to. Not being a drinker herself, she saw no harm in agreeing to do as she was asked. She was only trying to help.
‘Thanks, Carole. I appreciate it.’
Thrilled with how easy it had been to get her friend on board Mary forced her face into a tragic mask before saying, ‘Keep this quiet though, Carole. I don’t want anyone knowing how depressed I am. Danny Boy has enough on his plate as it is, without worrying about me.’
Carole nodded, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was doing the right thing by agreeing to this. She knew that Mary drank far too much as it was. But then she also knew she had a lot on her plate. Danny Boy’s father had left a mess behind him that went deeper than the blood that seemed to be everywhere and the stunned shock of his family at his actions. Who was she to refuse her friend the solace that a few drinks might bring her? She was so unhappy these days and, even though she didn’t say too much about it, she guessed Danny Boy and Mary were experiencing some marital problems. Michael hinted as much, and she knew he was worried about her as well.
But Michael was overwhelmed with work and she didn’t want to worry him with anything else at the moment. He was already close to crumbling under all the pressure, and she knew he was worried about Danny Boy’s reaction to all that had happened. Danny was under a lot of strain, saw his father’s suicide as a personal affront to him. Michael was taking on the brunt of the businesses and looked tired and strained. She wished there was something she could do to help him in some way.
As she left the hospital, she was surprised to see Danny Boy’s mother, in full church clothes, entering the hospital. She was on her way to see her daughter-in-law and Carole was secretly pleased that she hadn’t noticed her. She really didn’t know what to say to her about what had happened; a natural death was one thing, but for a practising Catholic, a suicide was the worst sin a person could commit. There was no way to console someone because the person concerned had left themselves without any hope.
She hurried home, wondering what exactly she was getting involved with. As much as she loved Michael, she wondered at times if his business interests were a lot more than she could cope with. Once they married she knew that her part in their union would entail her knowing a lot more than would be good for her. She was like Mary, though; she knew she wasn’t marrying an angel and she accepted that, as she also knew her life would be lived with the knowledge that she could lose the man she loved to the criminal courts. She felt a shiver of apprehension at what her life could become. But then she forced the thoughts from her mind, and told herself that being with him was all she was interested in.
Michael poured himself a stiff drink and swallowed it, enjoying the burn as it went down into his belly. He needed a livener, and the brandy was hitting the spot. He leaned back in the chair, and surveyed the office around him. The dingy hole that they spent so much time in was looking even shabbier than usual. He knew Danny Boy stayed there sometimes, and that he brought company with him. He wondered how a man with so much money and so much success could still feel more comfortable in these kind of surroundings. He knew Danny cheated on his wife, his sister, but he knew too that was the nature of that particular beast. He knew his sister had known his rep when she married him, in many ways she had gone into the marriage with her eyes open much wider than Danny Boy’s. She was her mother’s daughter, and Michael knew she had married Danny for what he could provide her with, as much as anything else.
And Danny had provided for her, she lived like a queen. She had everything a woman could possibly want. Now she was finding out what it was like to not get everything handed to her on a plate; she couldn’t produce a child for Danny and he knew that was burning him up inside. He saw himself as a man’s man, and he had already fathered a baby by one of his amours. At least, that was the rumour going round anyway. Michael could smell the stale cigarette smoke everywhere, and the sourness of a room used for thirty years without the benefit of a cleaner. He could hear the low growling of the dogs as they roamed the yard and he knew they were the best protection in the world, no one in their right mind would attempt to enter these premises; if anyone even walked near the fence they went into overdrive. He poured himself another drink and, lighting a cigarette, he pulled on it slowly, listening to the sounds of the night outside. The traffic was just a low drone, the rush hour was over and the road would become quieter by the hour. It was amazing really, every time he sat like this it reminded him of just how
far they had come over the years. Now he was a rich man, and a respectable man in his own way. He was known as the moneyman of the outfit, and he liked that. Michael enjoyed the way he lived and was determined to make sure he stayed living it large. He was worried about Danny Boy though, he was getting more and more difficult to handle by the day. He took umbrage with everyone he had contact with, found fault, saw slights where there weren’t any. Michael was known as the only person who could talk Danny Boy down; in fact he had been approached a couple of times to act as an intermediary for some of their clients. But this business with Frank was a real worry. Danny hated him; he had taken a dislike that was as outrageous as it was without any kind of foundation. The real problem was that Frank was not someone who could be treated with anything other than the friendliest of smiles and the ultimate of respect. He had a lot of friends in all the right places. Although Danny was, in effect, the Alpha male where the business was concerned, he had sewn up the drugs alone, and no one worked anything of any real note without in some way answering to them. He and Danny Boy were the only Faces who could guarantee people a regular and hefty return on any money they invested. They also paid off most of the Filth in the Smoke, guaranteeing that their merchandise was almost untouchable, earning them the nickname the untouchables. They had two high-ranking Met officers and one who worked closely with the new branch of the Flying Squad, who predominantly dealt with the new breed of men known as supergrasses. Since the seventies this had become an increasingly large problem in the criminal community, causing unrest and distrust among many of the men who had previously been tight. These new grasses were usually small-time Faces who had been captured, fair and square and, thanks to the heavy sentences being doled out by the courts, were more than willing to open their traps up about all and sundry to save their own sorry arses. One sniff of the Old Bailey and they couldn’t open their big mouths quick enough. They were not prepared to go down and do their bird like a man, these people were willing to serve up anyone for a reduced sentence and the chance of parole. It was an abomination as far as everyone was concerned. In fact, Danny Boy’s new-found status was based on the fact that there was no one willing to grass on him; his rep was so entrenched in local folklore that no one was brave enough to ever put his name in the frame for anything. Danny joked that he could shoot the pub up in broad daylight and no one would make a statement against him, such was the fear he instilled in everyone who came into contact with him. His father’s crippling and subsequent suicide just made Danny Boy’s reputation stronger. He had wiped out anyone who stood in his way, and he was still without a stain on his character as far as the law of the land was concerned.
But Michael, as much as he welcomed his friend’s fierce and completely warranted rep, knew, instinctively, that Danny Boy could not get away with this behaviour for ever. Eventually, even he would cross the wrong person, and that was something that Michael was determined to ensure never happened. It was why he was so worried about Danny Boy’s dislike for Frank. Lifelong enemies were made for less in their community, and Frank had the goodwill that Danny Boy should have been courting, not spurning. A good partnership guaranteed each side a little extra protection in their daily war against getting captured, but any bad feeling was a good reason to forget the criminal code: who would go away for someone they didn’t even like? It stood to reason.
When people kept their traps shut, stuck their heads down and did their time, they ensured that their family was more than taken care of. Once they opened their mouths though, they brought a lot of trouble on themselves; hence the need to take as many people out of the game as quickly as possible. The fewer people still left out on the pavement, the less chance of being permanently taken out of the game one dark night by a stranger with a shotgun or a machete. Michael was amazed that Danny Boy didn’t understand just how dangerous his position could be if he made too many enemies. He was still a Face, and he was a Face of repute and good-standing, but that could change in a heartbeat if he didn’t learn to control his anger.
Michael saw the lights of Danny Boy’s car as they shone across the office walls, heard the barking of the dogs and the loud creaking as the gates were opened. He poured himself another drink and braced himself for the coming meeting with his best friend. Danny wasn’t a fool, and he knew that he only had their best interests at heart. But it still wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to though.
‘You look better than I thought you would.’
Ange was attempting to smile as she spoke, but the effect was awful. She looked what she was; a woman on the edge. That she had loved the man who had left her alone yet again, this time for good, was never in doubt. It was just that, unlike her, no one else understood why. Ange had seen something in her husband that seemed to have eluded everyone else he had ever come into contact with. His own children included.
Mary watched her warily, unsure now of this woman who, it seemed to her, had spawned a man even she was frightened of. But the visit was welcome because Mary knew she had to get as many people on-side as possible. She hoped Ange was here as a friend and not an enemy.
‘I always look good, Ange, that’s the problem.’ She said it sadly, without the gentle slurring that made her sound even sexier than usual. Her voice was low, deep; she always sounded as if she was on the verge of taking her clothes off. It was another thing her husband hated about her. She made porn queens look like amateurs, and it was all without any effort on her part whatsoever.
Ange was drawn, her wrinkled face seemed to have aged drastically overnight. She was looking at her daughter-in-law sceptically, as if she had never met her before, as if she was weighing her up.
Both women were quiet for a while, Mary because she didn’t feel comfortable with her mother-in-law. For the first time, she felt as if she was judging her, and it was not something she had ever experienced before. At least, not from Ange, anyway. Ange was generally someone she spoke to, but didn’t really bother with. Her own son had no real respect for her and who could blame him? She had taken his father back even after he had destroyed the family she professed to love so much. Taking him back had been like a kick in the teeth to her elder son after everything he had done to keep them together, keep them fed and clothed. He had kept a roof over their heads that was paid for and was, for once in their lives, a certainty. A definite. He had made sure his mother wasn’t out scrubbing floors and washing other people’s clothes and had become the husband she had always craved; the man she had dreamed about. Danny Boy had taken on the mantle of the father, and they had all been the better for that. He had knocked his pound out in the pursuit of his family’s happiness, and he felt proud at what he had accomplished for them all.
Ange Cadogan had been set like a jelly and, despite that, she had still chosen to take back the man who had caused them so much grief and heartache in the first place, who had caused his elder son to become a robber and a burgeoning young Face just so that he could take proper care of his family. A family that had never had it so good, and who had finally accepted that their lives were so much better without the father they secretly despised; the father who had no care or interest in any of them, their mother included.
Ange had set in motion a chain of events that had reverberated down the years and caused untold misery for everyone involved. Now, the woman Mary had ignored, had acknowledged as and when it suited her, who she had no real connection with, was suddenly important because she had Danny Boy’s affection.
‘Did they say what it was, what caused it this time?’
Ange’s voice was low, full of compassion, and Mary responded to that. She almost cried with relief at her kind words. ‘No, Ange, they said it was just one of those things.’
Ange nodded sadly, and sighed gently. Her heavy coat and carefully applied lipstick made her look like a mannequin. There was an unreality about the situation that Mary couldn’t put her finger on.
‘You’re shaking, Mary, you’re trembling like an Eskimo playing strip poker
. Look at your hands.’
Mary looked down at the covers and Ange saw the beauty that she knew her son despised, even as he loved it. She knew what Danny Boy was like, he was far more like the father he had destroyed than he realised. Than any of them realised, in actual fact.
‘I know you drink, and I know you drink on the quiet and, if I was married to my son, I would probably do the same, girl. He’s a fucking vicious, vindictive bastard. But he still deserves a child, and you’d better get your act together, lady, and produce one, or he’ll kick your arse out the door so fast you’ll hit the pavement running. Now, I want you up and about for the funeral, and I want you there by my side as if we’re all really sorry he’s gone. I want to give him that if nothing else.’
Mary nodded, unsure of this woman now. Unsure of the power she seemed to have garnered for herself almost overnight.
‘I’m sorry about Big Danny . . .’
Ange flapped her hand in impatience, and said wearily, ‘Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. He’s gone, and we’re all still here. Focus on that. But I don’t want any sympathy that isn’t genuine. Not from me own anyway. You’ll stand there with me and your husband and you’ll stay sober. Your poor mother, the lights of heaven to her, had the curse of the drink and all. It’s a haven for the destroyed, for the unloved, and for the weak.’
Ange wiped a hand across her mouth then, as if wiping away the words she had just said, even as she knew the truth of them. In her heart she knew her son tortured this girl, knew that he was capable of great wickedness and his wife would always bear the brunt of it; she wondered if he had a hand in the loss of the babies. She hated that she even thought he might be responsible, because to even suspect him was like admitting it was true. So she pushed the thoughts away, as she always had, and said, ‘You’re like a thorn in his side; he’s eaten up with you, wanted you so much he could kill for you and, like everything else, once he gets what he wants he sets out to destroy it without a second’s thought for how his actions might reverberate on those around him. Now, I am here to offer you my support, but you have to do your bit. That means cutting down on the drink and taking care of yourself. Once a child arrives, a child born in wedlock, he’ll come round. He’s a lot more like his father than he realises, and he’ll never leave you if you have his children. His personality is such that another man would never get the chance to have what he’s had, even if he doesn’t want it anymore. So, listen to me now; get a child and you’ll have a bargaining tool with him. Because you need something to hold over his head, make sure he sees you as an asset of some kind in the future; make him take care of you. If you don’t listen to me now, Mary, you’re on your own. But you get to the funeral and you make sure my Danny Boy behaves himself. Take control of your life, girl, you might be surprised at his reaction. All the time you let him walk over you, he will.’