by Martina Cole
‘Pat is a shrewd fucker, Lil. He knows the score, so stop worrying, girl. He’s done his bird, kept his head down and his arse up and he ain’t silly, love.’
Lil nodded her agreement. ‘I know all that, Mum. He is my son after all, but he is out to make a name to get a rep like his father’s. He wants to make a niche for himself and I know that Lenny won’t let that happen. Patrick’s memory is still too fresh in everyone’s mind, especially his. He could never compete with him and he knows it.’
Annie didn’t say anything. The truth of what her daughter had said was evident to anyone who knew the situation, who knew the score. Pat Junior was a hard little fucker and, she for one, was looking forward to when he took back what was theirs; she was sick of making ends meet. She was sick of kowtowing to a wanker like Lenny and she wanted her daughter to have some peace of mind at last. That was something she believed would only come with Lenny’s demise and she prayed daily for that to happen.
She sat with her daughter and the sound of the rain drumming against the window panes was loud in the room. Annie loved this daughter of hers and she wanted to protect her in any way that she could. Grasping her hand, she squeezed it tightly as she said quietly, ‘Stop worrying, Lil. We’ll be all right; the boys will look out for us.’
Lil laughed then; a low, sad laugh that sounded empty and hollow. ‘Oh, Mum. I think I’m pregnant again.’
Annie closed her eyes in distress and annoyance.
‘You are joking!’
Lil shook her head sadly. ‘I wish I fucking was.’
Annie realised she was being serious and knew that it was true. ‘Whose is it then?’
The loudness of her voice, and the anger she could barely disguise, hit a nerve and Lil stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray as she shouted: ‘Who are you, Mother, the fucking police? Mind your own business for once.’
Then she saw her mother’s face and the realisation of what had happened to her again finally hit home.
‘Oh, Mum. What am I going to do?’
Annie stood up and went to put the kettle on. ‘Well, you better knock the drink on the head for a start. The child will be born with a fucking hangover and a lighted fag.’
Lil didn’t answer her, she just poured herself a large drink and lit another of her endless cigarettes. This was the last thing she needed in her life and, like everything else that had happened to her, there was nothing she could do about it.
Christy and Colleen were playing in the park nearby. It was a cement paradise for the kids who lived around the area. The walls that surrounded the small park were completely covered in graffiti, brightly coloured and deliberately obscure. The people around and about had no idea that the messages meant something to the kids who frequented the area. The police and the parents of the children who used the park had no idea that it had any real meaning whatsoever. They just saw it as a necessary evil, something the kids did because they were bored. It actually meant a lot to the teenagers; it was the writings of the ICF and the inner-city firm gave all its members the information they needed to know about where a fight or a rally would be. Christy and Colleen knew that, even at their young age.
They were on the swings when they heard someone screaming nearby, in one of the high-rise flats. It wasn’t unusual to hear screams on this estate; in fact, it was more unusual if there was no noise whatsoever. The park was a place of dangerous proportions; it was a place where anything could happen, and frequently did. Murder was not unheard of and fighting was a daily occurrence. But for the kids it was a place to meet up and chat, listen to music or score anything that took their fancy. Even though Christy and Colleen weren’t scoring yet, the dealer knew that at some point in the future they would be. It was how the estate worked, how the black economy survived and how the kids learned how to waste their lives at a very early age.
‘Did you hear that, Col?’
Colleen nodded, her open face troubled. This wasn’t the usual screaming from a couple who had drunk too much and were fighting. This was a different scream; it had an edge of fear running through it that communicated itself to anyone who heard it. Colleen and Christy saw people coming out of their flats and congregating on their balconies. After a while they all walked down the stairs and the children saw them going towards the refuse area: the underneath of the flats where the big industrial-sized bins were housed. They got up in perfect sync and holding hands, they followed the sounds of the night. There was definitely something exciting going on and they, like the kids following them, wanted first-hand knowledge of whatever had caused the adults to abandon their televisions and come outside their homes into the cold night air.
’All right, Mum. What you doing?’
Lil was ready for work, her hair and make-up were done and her clothes were ironed and much sexier than she would usually bother wearing. The boys had burst into the flat and the evening air swept through the house, making Lil shiver. She really didn’t want to go anywhere tonight if she could help it but she needed the money. After her run-in with Lenny she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again in the near future but she knew that was what was going to happen.
She felt her son’s lips on her cheek. Pat had always been tactile; kissing her and hugging her. Lance, on the other hand, knew that physical contact with him would make her ill. She smiled slightly at him and bowed her head in a gesture that said she acknowledged his presence. Lance nodded back at her and put the leather shopping bag he was carrying on to the table. Then he opened it up and started removing the money inside it.
Patrick picked up three thousand pounds and gave it to his mother, dropping it in her lap as he said seriously, ‘Your days of working for that cunt are long gone, Mother. You do not go back there, right?’
It wasn’t a request and Lil knew it. Picking up the money she stared at it for long moments and then she placed it back on the table.
‘You been out robbing?’
Her voice was neutral, there was no accusation in it at all. She sounded matter of fact, as if she just wanted to clarify something, which of course she did.
‘Mum, of course we’ve been out robbing. Use your loaf, woman! We are intending to do a lot more robbing in the future and all. So get with it and take the poke and tell Lenny Brewster he can shove his job . . .’
Lil nodded. She was smiling now and she said loudly, ‘Shove his job up his jacksy.’
Patrick grinned again and Lil noticed Lance was smiling as well. She wondered how she had existed with him so near to her; his whole attitude, his stance and even his voice made her want to scream.
She put the money on to her lap and watched as Pat gave Annie a few hundred quid. She saw the old woman’s thrilled expression and her relief that she had a few bob in her bin and could have a spend-up in front of her neighbours. Annie Diamond would never change while she had a hole in her arse.
‘Thanks, son.’ The gratitude was in her voice and in her eyes.
‘Lance was with me, Mum, it was a joint effort.’
They were laughing together then and she knew they had smoked some pot; the joint pun was the giveaway. She smiled at Lance and he busied himself getting beers out of the fridge, unable to look her in the eye.
Pat watched them both; he had been observing the way they danced around each other for years and he knew that it would never be any different. They lived under the same roof but they could have been on different planets for all the contact they actually had with one another.
Christopher and Colleen burst through the front door. They were both talking at once and neither was making any sense whatsoever until Patrick eventually hushed them both up.
‘What the fuck are you on about? One at a time.’
He pointed at Christopher then. ‘Tell us what is going on.’
‘There’s Old Bill all over the show, all over the flats . . .’
‘What for? What have you heard?’ Lance’s voice was high. He was frightened and it was apparent to everyone in the room, even th
e youngsters. Patrick knew his fear was that they had been grassed by someone and that the filth were on their way to arrest them.
Colleen picked up a piece of cake and bit into it before saying, ‘They found a baby. A dead baby over in the flats. It was in the bin; someone heard a crying sound but by the time the police and that got there it was dead. Mrs Jones said that it was because someone had emptied their rubbish down the chute and it had landed on the poor thing.’
‘Oh my God, how terrible.’ Lil was shocked to the core and Annie knew that if she was pregnant this occurrence would affect her more than usual. Dead babies or dumped babies were not that uncommon where they lived.
‘Fucking hell. Are you sure that’s the truth?’
Colleen and Christopher both nodded vigorously.
‘We saw them carry it to the ambulance. It was only small and they had wrapped it in a white blanket.’ Colleen’s dramatic nature was now to the fore and she was milking the fact that she was the centre of attention, as always.
The boys were relieved. They had both thought for a few moments that the filth were after them and were going to raid the house.
‘Well, that poor baby saved our bacon tonight. Lance thought it was the filth coming for us!’
Lance was annoyed then. ‘No I didn’t. But by the same token, we both got the wind put up us.’
Lil saw Kathleen walking slowly down the hallway.
‘You all right, love?’ Her voice was low and full of compassion for this daughter of hers who was so easily hurt and who would suffer for the rest of her life because of it.
‘Did I hear you say that a baby was dead?’ Everyone nodded.
‘That’s terrible! So bloody awful . . .’
Kathleen was crying but then she did cry all the time over the slightest thing. This time though her eyes were even sadder than usual and she was sobbing into a tartan tea towel she had picked up off the draining board. She sounded so distraught it was upsetting the younger kids just listening to her.
Lance went to her then. Turning her around, he placed his arm around her shoulders and walked her slowly back up to her room. He was talking softly to her and calming her down. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when she disappeared from view.
Annie started putting her coat on then and Lil and the boys looked at each other in exasperation.
‘Where you off to, Nan?’ It was Colleen who, as always, asked the pertinent question.
‘I said I would pop over to see Gladys. Might as well get it over with, you know what she’s like.’
They all grinned then, glad of the light relief.
‘You get over there, Mum, in case you miss something.’
Annie pursed her lips in anger but she didn’t say anything. She knew that for all their talk they would be relying on her to find out what had really happened.
It was freezing outside and as Annie walked along the road towards the flats, she wondered at a young man like Patrick who had brought about such a change with his release from prison. He was going to make everyone sit up and take notice, she was sure. He had that kink in his nature that his father had possessed. She only hoped that it didn’t turn out to be the death of him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Come on, Lil, let’s be having you!’
Jimmy Brick’s voice was as miserable as it had always been but seeing Lil had put a measure of pleasure in it that was hard to detect unless you knew the man very well.
Lil turned in her seat to face him and she saw immediately that the years had not been kind to him. After Patrick’s murder he had been on the scene for a while and then he had just seemed to drop off the face of the world. No one seemed to see him or hear about him. He had just disappeared. He wasn’t in clink, she knew that much. It seemed he had sold up and moved on.
Jimmy looked what he was, an old bruiser; someone who was displaying all the characteristics of an old fighter. He could still hold his own and he certainly looked capable of causing a row on a whim.
Lil’s face had lit up with pleasure and that pleased him no end. He had seen her from across the pub and he had recognised her immediately. Even though she was older she had not really changed that much. In fact, he was amazed at how little she had changed since the last time he had seen her. He pushed that from his mind. If Lil brought it up, he would discuss it. Otherwise he would leave well alone.
Life in Spain had finally got to Jimmy and he missed London more than he would ever have believed. He had ended up hating it out there. It was filled with has-beens, wannabes and grasses. He had been called back to England like many others, through missing the weather, the women and the opportunities it afforded men like him. As he sat in the Crown and Two Chairmen pub in Dean Street and looked at Lily Brodie the past seemed so recent and yet he knew that was only because the memories were so vivid. If he lived to be one hundred years old he knew that day would be as fresh then as it was now.
‘Bloody hell, Jimmy. Long time no see.’
Jimmy smiled. His balding head that he now shaved bald, rather than have the thinning hair on show, made him look old and yet his tanned skin and expensive clothes appealed to Lil and she told him that. ‘You look bloody well, Jimmy. Where have you been?’
Jimmy pulled up a chair and, as he sat beside her, he caught her distinctive scent; a mixture of Estée Lauder perfume and Revlon lipstick.
‘You look good yourself, girl. I’ve been living in Spain. I’m over for a while and maybe back for good. I ain’t made me mind up yet.’
‘I bet that’s a lovely place to live.’
Jimmy sat back in the uncomfortable wooden chair and surveyed her. Lil knew he was making a production of the look, but that was Jimmy. He had always had a soft spot for her.
‘Spain is a glorified shithole, Lil. No one would live there permanently unless they were in serious danger of getting their collars felt. I suppose it’s all right if you have a family or whatever, but on your Jack Jones it’s no good.’
She grinned and Jimmy noticed her even teeth. She had a lovely smile and the best of looks, as far as he was concerned.
‘You couldn’t settle anywhere else. You’re a Londoner like me and we can’t seem to settle elsewhere.’
Jimmy laughed with her and then they were quiet. The atmosphere between them was heavy with unspoken thoughts, making them both feel shy, suddenly.
‘Well, I am Hank Marvin, Lil. Fancy a bite to eat?’
‘Why not? I just have to meet my boys and then we can shoot off.’
Jimmy was getting them a drink when he saw the boys arrive. The eldest, Pat Junior, was the living image of his father and on first sight he felt his heart constrict with the shock. It was like looking at Patrick again; he had the same stance, the same walk, everything. The younger boy, Lance, was still a strange-looking cove as far as he was concerned. But he hid his feelings and as Lil introduced him, he felt the pull of them all. They were a family that had been devastated overnight but it was plain to him that they had pulled through it somehow.
Pat Junior sat down and, peering at the older man with interest, he said quietly, ‘I remember you, Jimmy. You were a great mate of my father and it’s a pleasure to see you once again. He loved this pub, I know. When I was away I met a lot of his old cronies and heard all the stories about him. They spoke highly of you.’
It was a simple statement but it began a friendship that was already obvious to both of them. Pat felt the older man’s emotion at being reunited with his old friend’s sons and Jimmy Brick was reminded of the man he had been close to for so many years.
Lil watched the exchange and she was pleased to see the way the two of them seemed to take to one another. She also saw that Lance, as usual, was quiet and keeping his own counsel. She felt the usual distaste at being in his company but tried to make sure he didn’t realise it. Lance was someone she saw as an outsider. She couldn’t help it and she had tried to suppress her feelings but she couldn’t. He sat there and she felt nothing for him except a deep
and abiding distaste.
Every time she saw Janie, she was reminded of just what this son of hers was capable of and, even though she knew it had been forgotten by most of the people she knew, she would never forget what he had done and she would never forgive him. The only saving grace he had was how he was with Kathleen. Although Lil loved her dearly, Kathleen irritated her if she was around her for too long. She wanted the girl to pull herself together and stop being such a weak and powerless individual but she knew that was something that would never come to pass. Kathleen was always going to be a weakling; it was in her nature and Lance had been the only one over the years who had the patience to spend time with her.
Lil sat back and waited for the men to finish chatting; they already looked as if they had been together for years and she took that as a good sign. Pat could do with a Jimmy Brick in his life and, like his father before him, he knew that as well as she did. She caught Lance staring at her and the good feeling disappeared as it always did when she had to acknowledge him in any way. She didn’t voice her thoughts; she had learned to keep them hidden away but Lance knew how she felt and that knowledge pleased her. She didn’t want him thinking they were ever going to bond; she knew that nothing in this world would ever make her love this boy.
Kathleen was sitting in the front room watching TV. She always watched Frank Spencer repeats and no one ever thought to turn over. She laughed at his antics and it was a real laugh, a deep belly laugh that made everyone around her happy. Kathleen’s nerves were bad and she had very little in her life that made her truly happy. As she watched Frank get caught on a skateboard and dragged behind a bus, she was roaring with laughter and Colleen and Christopher were also laughing. They were waiting for the programme to end so they could turn over to ‘Happy Days’ and the Fonz. But they were like the others: willing to forgo anything if it made Kathleen happy even for a few moments.