Babs looked at Dee. ‘He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. So precious.’
Dee’s puffed up proudly. ‘He’s the spit of John.’
Babs frowned. There was something about the way her eldest spoke that didn’t feel right. She was about to ask her about it when she heard Tiff angrily call out, ‘What the heck are you doing here?’
Jen spat out, ‘Turn around and go back the way you came. The cheek of it.’
Silence fell in the room and every eye turned to the newcomer. When she clocked who it was Babs could’ve slapped her forehead; she’d forgotten to tell Dee.
Babs quickly handed Natty back to his mum, as Dee asked, ‘Mum, what’s going on?’
Babs left her and walked over to the unwelcome visitor – Flo Miller. Babs took her arm and guided her to the middle of the room. She knew that some in the room weren’t going to take this well, but she was head of this family and had made a decision. And what she had to say needed to be said publically so everyone got it into their noodle. She coughed and started. ‘Right, as everyone knows, Florence here was my ex-husband’s daughter from another relationship.’ She heard Tiff bristle, but wasn’t deterred. ‘Now whatever Stanley may have done wasn’t this girl’s fault. He pulled her strings just like he did the rest of us. Me and Flo here have met a few times and all she wants is a chance to get to know her other family—’
‘She ain’t getting to know me,’ Tiffany protested and stalked over to the drinks table.
Babs took not a blind bit of notice. Her youngest had been giving the two-finger salute to anything she didn’t get her way about since she could remember.
She continued, ‘All this bad blood that Stan left has got to end. Anyone who don’t like it can hit the door.’ She waited. No one moved. ‘Good.’ She gave Flo her full attention. ‘Now, come and meet my baby Natty.’
Ten minutes later Babs hushed the party, her beloved grandchild nestled in her arms. Nicky cut the music as everyone’s attention turned to her. Babs stood up and addressed the room again.
‘I want to thank everyone for making this such a great turnout and welcoming my grandson to the family. But his family isn’t just his mum, aunts and me; it’s all of you in this room. Family are the people you can turn to when you need a little help, a shoulder to cry on, a supporting hand.’ There was a murmur of agreement around the room. ‘That’s how we’ve always done it in the East End. It’s one of the things that makes us special. We might not have a lot of dosh but our community spirit is priceless.’
Aunty Cleo cried out like she was in church, ‘You tell it Sister Babs.’
And she did. ‘I came to Mile End when I was a teenager expecting Natty’s mum.’ Her loving eyes found Dee. ‘I’m not gonna lie – life weren’t easy. I lost a lot but I gained a lot of mates. And without them I don’t know how I would’ve got through the tough times.’ She looked down at her grandson adoringly. ‘And that’s what our Natty’s going to need, people around him to get him through the tough times . . .’
Suddenly there was the screech of car wheels outside. Nicky peeped out of the window and turned back with a shocked face. ‘It’s the cops.’
‘You’ve got the nerve of the Devil bursting in here like this,’ Dee seethed at the lead cop in the doorway of the main room.
There had been uproar when a van load of plod had arrived. Despite their warrant, Dee was barring their entrance into the room.
‘Are you Mrs Barbara Miller?’ the officer asked.
‘Dee,’ Babs said quietly, ‘stand aside and let me find out what all the fuss is about.’
Her daughter threw daggers at the detective before kissing her teeth and getting out of his way. Babs took her place. ‘What can I do for you officer?’
‘Are you the owner of number 9 and number 10 Bancroft Square?’
‘Course she is, you Muppet in blue,’ Flo called out. ‘What do you think, she’s in the habit of breaking into other people’s houses and having a shindig?’
‘Florence,’ Babs pleaded. She turned her attention back to the policeman. ‘I’m Barbara Miller and I own this house and the one next door.’
He handed her a piece of paper and announced for all to hear, ‘We have evidence to show that both houses were purchased with monies obtained from illegal activities by your former husband, one Stanley Miller. The houses are being seized under the Proceeds Act of 2002.’
She stared at him gobsmacked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Both properties no longer belong to you. They are now assets in the hands of the Metropolitan Police.’
The party turned into a gathering of very angry people.
Babs let out a very heavy sigh as she finally kicked off her shoes at midnight. The party had almost turned into an open brawl as people turned against the cops. The girls and Flo had been outraged and were at the centre of the disturbance. Only Babs’ calling order and giving the police the keys had put a stop to it. She knew that her daughters had been hurt that she’d thrown in the towel, no doubt watching their inheritance going down the pan.
She listened to make sure there was no sound coming from Tiff’s room before she pulled her mobile out and made the call.
‘Tricky Dickie,’ she said quietly, ‘thanks big time.’
There was a pause before he said, ‘Are you sure about this?’
She said with steely determination. ‘This is the right thing to do. Those houses have only brought trouble and division and I need the girls and Stan’s daughter to think they’re gone for ever.’
‘What are you going to do if your kids ever find out you got me to get the ball rolling on this criminal assets seizure?’
‘They won’t find out, unless you blab.’
‘I’ll do the paperwork.’
The raid had been real but not real. She’d asked Richard – that’s how she’d always think of him – to organise the seizure but sort the paperwork so they remained in her hands. What she was going to do with them she didn’t know. But they’d only brought misery to her daughters’ lives. And with them out of the way Flo could really get to know her new family. ‘We could go on a cruise together if you sold those houses.’ Richard kept telling her to go out with him and to use the houses to change her life.
And strangely she told him, ‘I might just do that. Watch this space.’
For the first time in years Babs felt the control Stanley Miller still held over her slipping away.
Sixty-Six
The next day Babs got off the Number 25 bus at its final stop in Ilford and spent the next five minutes looking for the block of flats she was after. This wasn’t a part of town she was familiar with but Jen had taken her out there for a day of retail therapy at the shopping centre.
In the end she had to ask a stranger, who was happy to point her in the right direction. The block was single storey, small and white with gleaming windows. It looked like a nursing home, which it was in a way. The council had built it to house some of their older residents.
Babs pressed the intercom. There was a buzzing sound and a female voice asked, ‘Can I help you?’
When she gave the name of the person she’d come to visit there was another buzzing sound and a click as the door came away from its automatic lock. Babs entered a clean reception area that smelt as if it had just been cleaned, a vase of gorgeous flowers on a tall table.
A middle-aged woman appeared with a cheery expression on her face. ‘She’s in flat six, along the corridor.’ She pointed the way.
Babs knocked at the door and her one-time prison neighbour Pearl opened the door. ‘Babsie girl, my old eyes are glad to see you.’
Pearl had on a dressing gown and her silver bangles jangled together. As Babs stepped forward the other woman stopped her.
‘What are you doing?’ Babs asked.
‘I’ve got to run some energy over you, just in case you’re bringing evil spirits along for the ride.’ Pearl huffed, ‘Them evil spirits can be really sneaky. Once they’re in the
y’re like squatters and it’s hard to move them out.’
As Pearl raised her hands Babs batted them away and pushed inside. ‘We don’t have time for none of that clap trap. Show me where it is.’
Muttering under her breath Pearl closed the door and took Babs into a cosy, compact sitting room. They moved to the battered looking beige settee and started pulling off cushions and peeling back the lining. Babs couldn’t help gasping as she stared at the piles of gold bars.
Her mind shot back to the call she’d received from Pearl in her cell.
‘Have you cleaned Stan Miller outta my houses?’ she asked.
‘Well kind of.’
Why couldn’t anything be easy peasy with this woman? ‘What did you find? The Devil’s firstborn living in the attic?’
Pearl’s voice hushed. ‘Much more valuable than that. I found gold.’
The old bird really was losing the plot. ‘Pearl, you been on the Jamaican Woodbines again?’
‘Listen.’ Her voice became more urgent. ‘I cleansed upstairs and then went downstairs. As soon as the builders saw me they got on with their work elsewhere. Although I don’t mind telling you that they were really going off for a quiet drink . . .’
‘Get on with it. I’m on the clock here.’
‘That’s when I noticed there was something strange about the reception room, you know the one near the kitchen.’ She wheezed, then added triumphantly, ‘The carpet in the corner was a bit rumpled so I bent to straighten it and Babsie, you wouldn’t believe it, there was this door. So I says to myself, Babs told me to cleanse the whole place, top to bottom, so I pulled it back and found some stairs. There was another room. Strange thing was there was all this banged-up furniture inside.’
‘I never told the workmen to build another room.’
‘I don’t know about that Babsie. Anyhow, seeing as it was so peaceful I decided to put my legs up on the settee. My varicose veins were giving me hell. As soon as I sat down I knew something was wrong. I took off one of the cushions and noticed some of the stuffing was missing. When I peered inside there it was – gold . . .’
To say Babs was shocked was the understatement of the year. She’d known immediately that the gold came from the robbery Dee told her John and Kieran had pulled. She’d wanted to get rid of it, but Pearl had other ideas.
‘I’m an old lady with a crap pension,’ Pearl had said, her voice very hard indeed, reminding Babs she was dealing with a woman who knew a thing or two about the underworld. ‘I want a slice of the action. I’ve always dreamed of building a house back in Jamaica.’
Babs had been outraged. ‘No way.’
‘Suit yourself. I’ll get someone else to do it and spread it around that you knew where it was all the time.’
The crafty old bitch. If word got out that would put her girls in the frame. So she’d agreed and when she’d come out on parole, instead of going straight home she’d had Pearl pick her up in a removals van with two of her sons. They’d gone to the house and removed the settee. When Pearl’s sons had complained about the weight she’d hoodwinked them with some BS about keeping her Madam Pearl knickknacks inside for safe keeping.
They’d decided to wait six months, until there was less heat out there before discussing what to do next.
‘So what we going to do with it?’ Pearl asked, bringing Babs back to the present.
‘Dunno. I’m going to need to think.’
Pearl straightened up in a way that had Babs’ mouth falling open. She hadn’t realised the other woman could do that. She squinted. There was so much about Pearl she didn’t know.
‘Well we need to get our skates on,’ Pearl said firmly. ‘We can’t keep it here much longer. You don’t know Frank McGuire and The Commander the way I do.’
Babs was shocked. ‘You know them?’
Pearl twisted her mouth. ‘The stories I could tell you about Uncle Frank. And as for Jimmy Fullerton-Green . . .’
‘Jimmy who?’
‘The Commander. That’s his real name . . .’ She let it hang suggestively in the air. ‘So, Babsie girl, what are you going to do with that gold?’
Babs shook her head. ‘The truth, Pearl? I don’t know.’
Acknowledgements
Mega thanks as ever to my fabulous agent Amanda, editor Ruth and all the Hodder crew.
Table of Contents
About the Author
Title Page
Imprint Page
Dedication
Contents
Prologue
Part 1: 2006
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Part 2: 2006
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Fifty-One
Fifty-Two
Fifty-Three
Fifty-Four
Fifty-Five
Fifty-Six
Fifty-Seven
Fifty-Eight
Fifty-Nine
Sixty
Sixty-One
Sixty-Two
Sixty-Three
Sixty-Four
Epilogue: 2007
Sixty-Five
Sixty-Six
Acknowledgements
Blood Daughter: Flesh and Blood Trilogy Book Three (Flesh and Blood series) Page 37