The Life

by Martina Cole

  ‘I think Ria wants it at the house to keep it small, Dan, you know. If it was at one of the clubs it could easily get out of hand.’

  Daniel turned his attention back to his wife and nodded his agreement, but he kept his own counsel on that point. Young Bernadette O’Toole liked the clubs a bit too much, as he’d observed – and she liked the men who frequented them as well. Not that anyone could actually accuse her of anything untoward – she was just a flirty type – but Daniel Bailey knew a whore in the making when he saw one, and his nephew’s intended had ‘trollop’ written all over her. She had even tried to give him the glad eye! She needed to be admired by every man within her orbit. Petey would have more fights than Muhammad Ali once he shackled himself to her, but that was his look out. He decided to suss Lena out on the subject, saying craftily, ‘She seems like a nice enough girl. What do you think, Lena?’

  Lena thought about his question for a few seconds before saying, ‘To be honest, Dan, I can’t take to her, and God knows I’ve tried. But there’s something about her I just can’t abide. Do I sound nasty saying that?’

  Daniel saw the genuine sadness on his wife’s face at the quandary she found herself in and, laughing, he answered her by saying, ‘Well, that makes two of us, Lena! I think she is “high maintenance” as they call it nowadays. She has too much to say for herself, and nothing I’ve heard her utter has been worth a fucking wank. She is a lovely-looking girl – no one can take that away from her – but she has no real substance to her. It’s all top show.’

  Lena was taken aback at just how accurately her husband had described Bernadette O’Toole. She could not have put it better herself. The girl was stunning, absolutely gorgeous in fact, but once you got past her looks, there was nothing else to keep your interest. She had no warmth to her; she didn’t seem to engage with anyone on a personal level – in fact, she didn’t even seem to engage with Petey properly. They didn’t look or interact like a couple somehow.

  ‘I’m amazed at what you just said, Dan, because I think that as well. I know Ria feels the same too, but it’s Petey’s choice, ain’t it? Shame that no one’s kids ever think of the fact that the people they bring into their lives also have to be a part of the whole family. They should think about that before they inflict their choice on everyone else!’

  Daniel laughed out loud at Lena’s honesty. But she was right, this generation were all selfish little fuckers. Years ago people had the nous to look at the whole package – this generation just looked at the outside. Looks were so important now – in fact, they took precedence over everything else. But a personality went a lot further than good looks in a marriage. His Lena had always understood him, as he had understood her, that was why they were still together. Peter and Ria were the same – they had stood by each other no matter what, and no matter how hard things had got. Look at Ria and her boy Jack! She had understood that Peter had no option but to take that useless cunt out of the family equation. He would stake his last few pence that this O’Toole piece had no idea of that sort of loyalty. She would be on the trot at the first whiff of aggro. Petey Bailey would sup sorrow from a long spoon, as his old mum used to say, and he would rue the day he tied himself to such a female.

  ‘Well, it’s his fucking funeral, girl. At least she’s willing to have the full Catholic ceremony – that’s something, I suppose.’

  Lena laughed with him. ‘Ria made that as clear as fucking day, don’t you worry! Fucking registry office! Have you ever heard the like? Bernadette’s a Catholic anyway, Irish as well, about the only thing going for her as far as your mother is concerned.’

  ‘Well, at least that proves the girl has the sense to know what’s good for her.’

  Lena nodded. ‘Good family as well, the O’Tooles are decent enough people.’ She could tell Daniel was bored with the conversation now, so she finished her tea and got up. ‘Come on then, you. Let me cook your breakfast. Fancy a bit of egg and bacon?’

  Daniel nodded. That was what he loved most about his Lena, she knew when to let things drop. So many women were unable to understand the importance of knowing when they were starting to bore the arse off their old men. It was a knack his Lena had acquired very early on in their relationship, and he loved that about her.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Bernadette O’Toole was more than aware of just how lovely she was and, as she studied herself in the mirror of her dressing table, she was genuinely amazed at how, even without a dab of make-up, she still looked absolutely amazing.

  Her mother had said to her many years before when, as a thirteen-year-old girl, she was already being looked at by men – older men – that she should understand sooner rather than later that girls who looked like her didn’t have to play by the same rules everybody else did. Her looks would open any door she chose to walk through. As she grew up she began to understand the power of her beauty. Neither of her parents were that good looking actually, but she had inherited the best from both of them and, somehow, she had turned out a real stunner.

  Now she was about to tie herself to Petey Bailey and, in so doing, ensure that she would have the kind of life that she felt was hers by right. She liked Petey well enough – he was a nice bloke. But he was also a Face, and she knew the importance of that better than anyone. He could provide her with the world on a plate, and she was determined to make sure that he did just that. She was not going to waste her God-given talents on a fucking no mark, of that much she was sure.

  As a teenager she had understood the importance of keeping her reputation; she was determined that the man who eventually got her would know that no one else had been there before him. Petey Bailey was going to pay dearly for her virtue.

  She smiled happily. After tonight, her life was settled; she would be a part of the Bailey family, and everything that entailed. It had been a long old haul, but it had been worth it. Soon she would be Mrs Peter Bailey Junior, and that was just about the best any girl could ever hope for. She was going to be the First Lady of the South East, and she intended to make sure that everybody knew that.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Ria was determined to make this a really good night. True, she had her reservations about Bernadette, but she knew she had to keep them to herself. Her Petey was ‘plighting his troth’, as Theresa kept putting it in her own sarcastic way. She did not like Bernadette at all, but it was Petey’s choice at the end of the day.

  Liam and Mandy were both helping with the arrangements, and she was glad that he had seen the sense to marry her. Mandy was a good girl, and she had become very close to her over the years. Her only sorrow was that they had not yet had their own child, though Liam seemed happy enough as they were. Young Bernard adored him, and he adored Bernard right back. He was a natural-born father was her Liam, and it was unfair really that they had no other children.

  She looked around the room, and she was pleased with how it had turned out. She felt that having it in her own home was a way of making it more personal, as well as ensuring that it didn’t get out of hand. Her Petey was a good lad, but he did like the clubs a bit too much. Now he was settling down at last, she was hoping that he would take this engagement seriously enough to curb his wild ways. Bernadette O’Toole might not be her first choice where her son was concerned, but she hoped the girl had enough life in her to make sure the man she married would toe the line. Petey needed to settle down, and the sooner that happened, the better. Ria wanted more grandchildren, and she wanted her boys settled, like her Imelda.

  As she checked everything was in order, Bernard came running up to her. Now twelve, he was a handsome boy with his blond hair and his big blue eyes, and Ria loved him. He slipped his arms around her waist and she instinctively hugged him to her.

  ‘Nana, Nana, can I stay here tonight?’ It was his usual request; he loved staying with his nana and granddad, and Bernard was as much a part of the family now as little Delroy or Tania.

  ‘’Course you can! You know you can stay here any time y
ou like!’

  Mandy grinned, as she followed her son into the room. ‘You let him get away with everything! You know he already has his overnight bag packed, don’t you?’

  Ria laughed. ‘He’s all right, love, we love having him, you know that.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. The caterers are already setting up in the kitchen. Shall I help you dress the tables? It’s going to be so lovely, Ria. I hope Bernadette appreciates it.’

  Even though Mandy didn’t realise what she had said, Ria was aware that the fact that she was also unsure of Bernadette’s reaction to everything spoke volumes. Miss O’Toole had not really endeared herself to the women in the family; in fact, she was the kind of girl who overlooked other women, more interested in the reaction she got from the men.

  Ria sighed. ‘Well, Mandy love, we’ve done our best – we can’t do any more.’

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  The engagement party was in full swing, and Peter Bailey watched as his son greeted the guests. He was a good man, of that Peter was confident. Over the last ten years, he had watched his lads grow into strong, trustworthy men, and he had been proud to be a part of their lives. Petey and Liam had both become close to him. After what happened with Jack they all understood the importance of family, and the need to ensure that family took precedence over everything else. That was the strength of the Baileys – they were so tight no one could ever get near them. Even when decisions – tough decisions – had to be faced, they understood that they were for the family’s benefit and, as hard as they had been, the choices had to be made.

  Things had been better with Daniel too in the last decade. His brother had seen that his sons were more than capable of looking out for themselves, and he had been happy to let them grow into their roles in the family hierarchy. The days of them having to prove their strength were long gone – they were now accepted as the foremost family, not just in the Smoke, but in the whole of the UK. Nobody attempted anything of import without getting their approval first. The Baileys were sensible enough to know that they had to let other people, other families, have a good earn in their name. It was the only way to keep their position, and also the only way they could garner goodwill.

  In all that time, they had never once had a serious threat to their empire; everyone in their orbit knew that they were not people who you took on lightly. Peter saw that his reputation, coupled with that of his brother, was more than enough to deter the majority of the people they dealt with from stepping out of line. Plus they were very fair in their dealings, and that went a long way. They also made a point of keeping the peace; when other families had grievances against each other, they mediated between them and they always tried their best to come to a conclusion that was acceptable to both the parties involved. It was important to remember that everyone they dealt with had some kind of involvement with the Baileys.

  Peter observed as his eldest son welcomed people with the right amount of respect, making sure that they knew who was the boss. He watched his Ria as she oversaw the waiters as they passed around the champagne; this had had to look ‘expensively casual’ – whatever the fuck that meant! That was what Ria was aiming for by all accounts; this was her domain and he had to let her do whatever she wanted.

  Bernadette O’Toole who, as lovely as she was, had never had a real fucking wedge in her life, was clearly determined to have the best of everything. Well, after tonight, that was his eldest son’s job, not his, and he had a sneaky suspicion that his lad would soon feel the pressure of her insistence on only having the very best. If she had been brought up to all this then Peter would have said fair play to her, but knowing that she had been raised one small step away from hand-to-mouth irritated him. He couldn’t help it.

  Bernadette O’Toole acted as if she was better than everyone around her. Her looks were enough to make some believe that might actually be so. But as soon as she opened her mouth and spoke, any thoughts along those lines were soon forgotten. Bernadette O’Toole sounded rougher than a Basildon pikey.

  Still, Petey was enamoured of her, although the real attraction for his eldest son was the fact that she was a virgin; for a man like his Petey that was a major selling point. He had the kind of personality that made him determined to have everything first, from cars to women. Peter only hoped his son didn’t lose interest in this wife of his as quickly as he usually did with his new toys. He still hoped that it all worked out for them, despite his dislike of the girl. Like his wife, he was willing to put up with her if she was what his son wanted.

  Bernadette smiled at her fiancé’s father, hoping he was as bowled over by her looks as everyone else was.

  Peter Bailey smiled back, wondering how long it was before the real food came out. He was starving.

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Imelda loathed her brother’s girlfriend with a vengeance. She knew enough about men to understand their preoccupation with a pretty face, but she could not for the life of her comprehend Petey getting involved with Bernadette O’Toole. The girl was gorgeous, no one could dispute that, but she had the personality of a gnat. Even Delroy, who appreciated a good-looking female, could hardly contain his active dislike of the girl. She seemed to rub everyone up the wrong way.

  She was not just vain, arrogant and ignorant – which would have been bad enough. The real rub was that she genuinely believed that she was special. In a way, Imelda was more than a little jealous of the girl’s self-confidence. Imelda had been forced to suppress her natural nature; as the years had gone on, she had finally admitted that her Delroy was not a man to be challenged, and certainly not a man who was willing to allow his wife to dictate how he lived his life. It had eventually sunk in that her jealousy was not something he was prepared to countenance; it would be the reason he walked out on her. It had been a hard lesson, but she had learned it for the simple reason that she had no intention of losing the only man she had ever loved, or ever would love for that matter.

  After her brother’s death, she had been forced to re-evaluate everything in her life, and admit that her family and her husband’s place in that family were the most important things. Her feelings as an individual were not. Everything was actually about the Baileys as a whole. Delroy loved her, there was no doubting that, but his love came with a proviso, and that proviso was that she did not encroach on him or his livelihood in any way. Her father agreed with him about that, as did her mother, and that had been the hardest lesson of all.

  Sipping her champagne, she made her way over to Mandy, who somehow had become a close friend despite their shaky start. Mandy was the only other woman within her orbit who seemed to sympathise with how she felt.

  Chapter Ninety

  Michael O’Toole was feeling very awkward; he didn’t like ostentation, and he knew that he looked as out of place as he felt. The Baileys had been fantastic, there was no doubt about that. The problem was wholly his, and he would have to overcome it sooner rather than later. His daughter had bagged herself a real prize, and that was her prerogative. Hers and her mother’s, of course – like a pair of fucking witches the two of them. For all Bernadette’s good-girl act, he knew she was just hanging it all out for the main attraction – Peter Bailey the younger. Michael only hoped she realised just what she had taken on; the man wasn’t a fool, not by anyone’s standards, and she might just find she had bitten off more than she could chew.

  The worst thing for Michael was that he felt like a ponce; he was the father of the bride-to-be and, by rights, this night should have been organised by him and his old woman. If that had been the case, there was no way it would have been anything remotely as upmarket as this. And that was the rub – his own daughter had more or less told him that there was no way she was going to celebrate her engagement on his penny; she had almost laughed in his face when he had suggested it.

  Pity she didn’t understand the Baileys; they would have respected whatever he had provided – they were decent like that. But his Bernadette was more than happy for he
r new family to foot the bill, and they had done that all right. Smoked salmon! He had to laugh – they had been lucky to have tinned fucking salmon at the best of times. He had provided as well as he could, and his wife and daughter should give him credit for that. They might not have lived in a mansion, but they never went without. Now those two talked about food as if they were suddenly related to the fucking Galloping Gourmet. They disgusted him, the pair of them. Especially his Beryl – all the years they had been married and she still couldn’t cook a decent meal, no matter how good or expensive the ingredients might be. Now she talked as if she cooked banquets on a daily basis. The only good thing about prison had been that the food inside was much better than anything he had ever eaten at home!

  He observed his daughter as she attempted to play down the sheer size of her engagement ring, while making sure everybody was aware of it. It was five carats, and cut into what she called a baguette-style stone. She held her perfectly manicured hand out away from her body, and let the ring catch the light. Silly cow! He knew that stone had been half inched from somewhere; there was no way Petey Bailey was going to pay the full price. He was a lot of things, Petey Bailey, but a mug wasn’t one of them.