by Martina Cole
Ria was so shocked at Theresa’s words she actually laughed – it was her nerves, she knew. But no one had ever said the like to Lena Bailey. It had always been the unwritten rule: Lena Bailey was never to be reminded of her husband’s deeds. Lena was always to be looked after, shielded from her husband’s actions. Lena was never made to face the truth and, if Ria was completely honest, it had often irritated her in the past.
Ria saw Lena lick her lips slowly, saw the look of abject horror as it passed over her face. Her mother-in-law saw it too and sighed, busying herself with lighting a cigarette.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Theresa.’
Lena’s voice was loud, and Ria could see the anger in her eyes.
Theresa pulled deeply on her John Player Special, before saying seriously, ‘But that’s just it, love. You do, Lena, you know exactly what I mean, so let’s stop this fecking charade, shall we? You’re a grown-up – get over yourself and face up to the real world for once in your fecking life.’
Lena looked at the woman she loved like her own mother, unable to comprehend why, after all this time, she would finally decide to force the truth on her.
‘He’s my son, Lena, and I love him – and it’s hard to love that fecker at times, believe me – but you, Lena, are the only person he will listen to. You could have reined him in years ago if you had used your fecking loaf. You need to get your head out of your arse, and start looking out for those boys of yours; they are going to need you in the next few years, and you had better understand that, lady. He is pushing everybody around him away, and I know my Daniel – that means he will keep pushing with all he’s got. So, for once in your life, take a fecking interest, will you, before your sons are wiped out before your own eyes. Because you know as well as I do what Daniel is capable of.’ Theresa took another deep drag on her cigarette before saying sadly, ‘You had a good run, Lena. You kept out of it, but now it’s time to start taking an interest in what’s going on around you.’
Lena was white-faced, absolutely distraught at the turn of events, unable to believe that her mother-in-law could be capable of such treachery, not just towards her, but towards her own son. ‘I will not be spoken to like this, Theresa. I think it’s best if I leave now before we all say things we might regret.’
As Lena stood up and collected her belongings, Theresa said loudly, and with obvious sarcasm, ‘You can’t run away for ever, Lena – even you must know that much, darling. Eventually you are going to have to accept the truth of your situation. You live the Life, just like we all do. You know I’m telling the truth. Use your intelligence, girl! Use your influence to rein Daniel in – if not for his sake, then for his sons. Your sons.’
Ria watched as Lena battled the urge to swipe her mother-in-law across the face. It was a real eye-opener for Ria to see Lena so angry and strong. Gone now was her usual quiet demeanour; she had pulled herself upright, her fist was clenched and she looked more than capable of fighting her own corner. Theresa had hit a nerve all right – that much was plain to see – but Ria felt it was a good thing. Lena did need to get her head out of her arse, and start living in the real world with everyone else. She had swerved the Life for too long, and it was time she admitted that the money she spent came at a price, especially for women like them, who lived at the very top of the food chain.
Lena slammed the door behind her, and Theresa raised her arms in annoyance. ‘I could cheerfully swing for her at times, Ria! She wanders through life like Dilly fecking Daydream and, you know something? Deep down, she’s stronger than any of us.’
Ria nodded in agreement. Whoever said that the truth hurt didn’t know the half of it.
Chapter Fifty
Peter Bailey looked at his eldest son for long moments, then he barked at him angrily, ‘Did Daniel and the lads collect the money or not?’
Petey nodded warily. ‘Yeah, he started with Lance Porter and finished with Graham Black. Why the big fucking third degree all of a sudden? You know the boys were on to it. Who’s rattled your fucking cage?’
Peter sighed loudly. ‘It’s not the fucking boys I’m worried about, is it?’
‘Well, the boys have put the hard word on their old man, and he seems to be toeing the line, so I don’t know what else we can fucking say, Dad.’
‘I can never trust him, he’s such a fucking Looney Tunes. Radio rental, as they say. This is what I hate, wondering how far he’s gone. I am not sure the boys can handle him . . .’
Petey smiled. ‘I think they can, Dad. He knows they ain’t kids any more, he sees the sense of what they say. Danny reckons he has finally come around to their way of thinking.’
Peter laughed. ‘Oh, he thinks that, does he? Then he is an idiot. My brother Daniel is not a man who is easily thwarted. For example: when we were kids, a neighbour stole a pint of milk off our step. Daniel cut two of the fucker’s fingers off with a pair of secateurs. As far as he was concerned, the punishment fit the crime. The thing was, though, he waited ten fucking years to take his revenge. Do you see where I am coming from now? Daniel Bailey will never swallow his knob, and you need to take that onboard. He would cut his own sons’ throats if he thought they were mugging him off, and he would burn his Lena alive if he thought she had betrayed him. That is what we are dealing with. So you watch him like a fucking hawk, and you make sure he never has the opportunity to right any of his wrongs, real or imagined. You tell the boys he needs to be monitored, OK?’
‘I know what you mean, Dad, but I feel sorry for the lads. They work so hard, and they love him – he’s their dad after all.’
Peter laughed then. ‘You’re preaching to the converted, son, he’s my fucking brother remember. What I want to make sure of now, however, is that he don’t fuck up any of the new earns. The lads have got to keep him under some kind of control, and make sure he is never, and I mean never, allowed to mix with people we are dealing with unless he has a fucking minder.’
Petey could hear the threat in his father’s voice and he respected that. ‘I have made all this crystal clear, Dad. Danny is determined to see that it goes smoothly from now on, and I trust him. He is backed up by his brothers, and they know the seriousness of it, I promise you.’
Peter Bailey shook his head in despair. ‘Real, ain’t it, son? The fact I even have to have these conversations is bad enough, but I know it’s a necessary evil . . .’
Petey could see the weight of responsibility on his father’s shoulders, and he genuinely wanted to help. He also wanted to earn his father’s trust again, be allowed a bigger part in his operations. ‘Look, Dad, I need to ask you something serious.’ He wiped his nose and, taking a deep breath, he said nervously, ‘Do you want me to take Uncle Daniel out, Dad? I can do it on the quiet – no one would ever know it was us. Let’s face it, most people wouldn’t even fucking care either way. I reckon even his sons would breathe a sigh of relief in private . . .’
Peter Bailey looked at his son, saw how sincere he was. A part of him was impressed; after all, it took a lot to suggest something like that, especially to him. He gave nothing away as he asked, ‘So, young Petey, you want my permission to kill your uncle, do you?’
‘No, no, Dad, I just want you to know that if it ever comes to it, I would do it for you. Happily do it, in fact. I hate him, he’s like a fucking leech. He sucks the life out of everything and everyone around him. He’s a fucking tosser.’
Peter Bailey held his hand up, he didn’t want to hear any more. ‘You remember this, son, for all Daniel is – and he is a fucking handful, granted – he would never take a halfpenny off me that he hadn’t earned. He wouldn’t skim a pound that wasn’t his, and he would never think that I wouldn’t suss him out if he had tried it on. I know, better than anyone, what a fucking handful he is, but he is still my brother, and if, and I mean this with all my heart, if and when, I feel that he needs to be taken care of on a permanent basis, I will do it myself. I owe him that much.’
Petey was well aware of his fat
her’s underlying message. His dad knew he was skimming off the clubs, and he was telling him that. He felt the shame wash over him, more so because his father had not accused him outright. Instead he had given him the opportunity to address the situation, reminding him along the way that, for all Daniel’s faults, he had never taken a penny that he wasn’t entitled to. He was also reminding him that he was more than capable of sorting out his own problems.
‘I appreciate the offer, though, son, but you know there’s an old saying: Get your own house in order.’
Petey nodded, ashamed, but also impressed with his father’s acumen. Nothing, it seemed, got by him. Why was he not surprised?
Chapter Fifty-One
‘Hello, Mum.’
Theresa looked at her younger son as he popped his head round her back door. ‘I assume you’re here to have a row?’
Daniel laughed. ‘No.’
Theresa smiled then; she could see that her Daniel was not in a fighting frame of mind, so she guessed he was here to build bridges. She assumed that Lena had mentioned the conversation they had had.
Daniel sat down in his mother’s kitchen. He felt so comfortable here. It reminded him of his childhood: the smell of lavender polish, the gleam of her sink, and the feeling of safety she had always tried to give her sons. Daniel knew how hard her life had been, but there was no denying she had really grafted for her family and he would forever respect that. She had the arse with him over Peter – he knew that much – but she still loved him, he could feel it. Like his Lena, it was unconditional love, as it should be with mothers and wives.
‘So, to what do I owe this pleasure, son?’
Daniel grinned. ‘I hear you’re knocking about with Tommy Barker.’
Theresa narrowed her large blue eyes and, looking at her son with obvious suspicion, she said, ‘And what if I am? What the feck has it got to do with you?’
Daniel raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Calm down, Mum! What’s your problem? He’s an old-time Face – I just wondered if it was all right to meet him, that’s all. Fucking hell, Mum, anyone would think I was trying to cause you problems or something . . .’
Theresa knew then that Lena had not said a word to her husband after their row, and that annoyed her; Lena needed to do something before it was too late. Daniel would have let on by now that he knew what she had said to his wife. He would have given her his opinion, all right, and she would have happily given him her own opinion back. Unlike most people, he didn’t scare her.
‘I’m meeting him tonight actually, at the Irish club in Ilford. You’d like him Daniel, he’s a lot like you – what you see is what you get. Bring Lena and Tania, it’s a good night there on a Thursday.’ Theresa wanted things to get back to normal with Lena. She might annoy her but she was still her daughter-in-law.
Daniel shrugged happily. ‘OK then, Lena could do with a night out, she’s too insular really, she needs to get out more, Mum. I reckon Tommy Barker could do with an earn, don’t you? And I could do with someone who has a good rep with the public as such. I hear he’s honest and trustworthy.’ He knew his mother understood exactly where he was coming from. That was one of the reasons she was so well respected – she saw the crux of the matter in seconds and age had not dampened that skill at all. ‘You know what, Mum? I think little Tania will enjoy it as well. She’s doing so well with her Irish dancing, she’s a right little performer. Also, you can talk to Lena about the Communion. She’s nervous about it, you know what she’s like. I would also appreciate it if you could see yourself fit to sit with my Tania at the actual Communion do. Lena will need someone to take her mind off the underlying aggro.’
Theresa shook her head at her son’s obvious skulduggery. He wanted her sitting with his family, not his brother’s. ‘You’re a slippery fecker, Daniel.’
He laughed and, making as innocent a face as possible, he said jovially, ‘I had a fucking good teacher, didn’t I, Mum?’
‘I’ll do it, but only because of Lena and the situation between you and Peter. You might as well know, I told your wife to open her fecking eyes, and see what is going on around her, especially where you’re concerned. It’s ridiculous, Daniel! She’s still acting like a fecking teenager. Well, her sons are part of it now and she needs to make sure they are protected, like I did with you and your brother.’
Daniel shrugged; he made sure his mother did not see the anger she had caused in him. Lena had not said a dicky-bird about it.
‘You know my Lena, Mum, she will never have a word said against me. The less she knows the better, as far as I am concerned.’
Theresa looked into his eyes as she said seriously, ‘That is where you are wrong, son. Now her sons are in the equation, and that changes everything. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. She’s a fucking grown woman, not a young girl any more, Daniel. She needs to act like the adult she is, and you need to fecking see that she understands the reality of the rift between you and Peter.’
Daniel could feel the heat washing over his body, could feel the anger that his mother’s words caused rising, knew that he had to keep a lid on it. ‘Lena doesn’t need you or anyone else to tell her anything, Mum, she knows the score but, unlike you and Ria, she doesn’t need to advertise that fact to the whole fucking world. She just chooses to keep her opinions to herself and, with all due respect, Mum, that is her prerogative. She ain’t you, and she ain’t Ria, thank Christ.’
Theresa sighed heavily. ‘You’re a fool to yourself, Daniel Bailey. I don’t know what it is with you. There’s a kink in your nature, always has been. You never see the things around you like everyone else. Peter understood that and, in his own way, he tried to guide you, as I always did. But you are determined to go your own road, and what has that got you, eh? You have caused so much heartache, son. Always caused trouble and, when you go off on your own you never think it through. That’s why you’re in the situation you are in now. You know, deep down in your guts, that you have no moral compass whatsoever. You act before you think of the consequences. I know that you honestly don’t see what you’ve done is wrong, you can’t understand why everyone is so cross with you, but then, you never did, Daniel – not even as a little kid. But I know you better than you know yourself, and I am telling you now that you have to start thinking everything through, and let your boys in on what you’re doing. They love you, but they need the chance to prove to the world that they can be trusted to deliver. You have to start thinking of them, and their futures.’
Daniel knew that for his mother to say what she had just said she must be genuinely trying to help him. She had always had his back, both her sons’ backs. He also knew she was right – he was devoid of this so-called moral compass, even if, in all honesty, he felt that was a contradiction in terms. But he knew she was right – there was a morality in the Life, and he had never really understood that fact. He did now though – he knew he had to learn just what the boundaries and guidelines were. His sons were more than aware of how they should all conduct themselves, so he had them to use as a yardstick. Despite all this, his mother’s words hurt, even though he knew she had the best intentions.
He smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then, Mum. The Shandon Bells, eh? I bet Father Murphy will be there. He does like a drink, the old ponce.’
Theresa grinned at her son, but she was aware that he had listened to her advice; whether or not he would choose to use it was anybody’s guess. ‘Don’t we all, son! Eventually, when you get to my age, the drink is all you’ve got to look forward to.’
Daniel Bailey looked at his mother and, sighing sadly, he said gently, ‘You’re a good ’un, Mum, and I love you very much.’
Chapter Fifty-Two
‘Well, are you going to show me or what?’ Jack Bailey was laughing as he spoke, and his cousins Noel and Jamsie, who were with him, laughed too.
George Theodopolis, however, wasn’t laughing; he knew he was in serious trouble. ‘Come on back to my office, boys, I’ve got
your envelope waiting.’
Jack Bailey shook his head angrily, and replied in a sarcastic yet humorous tone, ‘Bollocks to you, George! This is the third week we have requested our due. Now, me and my cousins have had to come in person, take time out of our busy lives to collect from you. I ask you, is that fair on us? I mean, in reality, who the fuck are you? You’re a cunt who believed we would overlook the insult.’ He looked around him with wide eyes, the eternal innocent. Then, grinning nastily, he said viciously, ‘So, I ask you again, cunt, show us your club. If you don’t, we will take it down around your fucking ears. Brick by brick, punch by punch.’
George knew what was going to happen now. It was his own fault, but he’d had to try; after all, no one paid out without a good reason. Now he was backed into a corner – once they saw his premises he would have to pay more than his usual wage; unfortunately, this was the way of the world he lived in.
Jack knew all this; he had already done his research, and he had been looking forward to taking this Greek ponce down a few pegs. He had a natural bent for this type of work. He researched his marks without being told to, and he had known instinctively that they were not getting their due from this one. His cousins had both stood back and let him run the show, recognising his talent for the job. But this place was not like the pubs or the cab ranks he usually dealt with – this was a different ball game altogether. Jack liked the idea of an all-day drinking club, a place to hang out, where girls were in abundance, and where he was not liable to be treated like a kid. He saw the potential here.