The Traitor

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘So?’ Joey said, urging her to carry on.

  ‘Well, it turns out that she was just fat and wasn’t even pregnant. She hated me from that moment onwards.’

  ‘So, why don’t you like his mum? What’s overpowering about her?’

  Frankie was about to answer, when she clocked Dominic and waved.

  ‘Who you bloody waving to? Frankie, I’m talking to you,’ Joey said, annoyed.

  As soon as Dominic arrived at the table, Frankie excused herself. ‘I think yous two have stuff to talk about, so I’m going outside to make a few phone calls.’

  Joey looked up and immediately felt his body shake. Dominic was gorgeous, even sexier than he’d remembered. ‘All right? Let me get you a drink, Dom,’ he said awkwardly.

  Noticing that Joey’s hands were unsteady. Dominic offered to do the honours for him. ‘You sit there. I’ll order us a bottle of wine.’

  Outside the pub, Frankie was an interested spectator. The boys had been laughing and joking for over half an hour now. Frankie smiled as she ended the phone call to her friend Stacey. Dominic had just held Joey’s hand, which meant her plan was obviously working.

  Back inside the pub, Dominic stared into Joey’s innocent eyes. ‘It can’t be like before, Joey. If we’re gonna make a go of this, I’d like us to move in together.’

  Joey was ecstatic. Dominic was the only person in the world who could help him recover from the trauma of his mum’s death. ‘I’ll move in with you tomorrow if you want me to,’ he told Dom.

  Dominic suddenly remembered Eddie Mitchell again. ‘What about your dad though, Joey? I know he’s in prison, but say he sends one of his henchmen around the flat? He might even send your uncle or your brothers round to finish off what he tried to do last time.’

  Joey clenched Dominic’s hand. ‘I’m finished with my dad and so is Frankie. I can come out now he’s locked up. Everything about us can be out in the open. My dad won’t bother us again, I just know he won’t. How could he even say or do anything, after what he did to my mum?’

  ‘Are you sure? I really don’t want any more trouble,’ Dominic said cautiously.

  ‘I’m absolutely positive.’

  Dominic leaned forward and, not caring about anybody else in the pub, gently kissed Joey on the lips. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he said to the beautiful blond boy who had stolen his heart.

  Over at Warley Hospital, Stanley was sitting alone with his wife. Raymond had left a couple of hours ago, which had given him plenty of thinking time. Joycie was still fast asleep, and as Stanley checked her breathing yet again, he smiled to see her chest rise in a steady rhythm.

  Deep down, Stanley knew that he would always love his wife, whether she loved him or not. As she opened her eyes, Stanley gently held her hand. ‘How are you feeling, Joycie? You’ve had a nice long sleep, my love.’

  Joyce indicated that her throat was dry, so Stanley held the paper cup to her mouth and urged her to sip some water. As she laid her head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, Stanley spoke honestly and kindly to her.

  ‘I’m so sorry for leaving you, Joycie. This is all my fault, darling, but I want you to know that I still love you and from now on, whatever happens, I’ll look after you and help you get better.’

  Joyce turned towards him. She was too weak to sit up properly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m ever so sorry for smashing up your pigeon shed, and even though I don’t always show it, I do love you too, Stanley Smith.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Joycie seemed to recover quickly after her reconciliation with Stanley, and a month later the doctors gave her the go-ahead to return home. She had suffered some kind of nervous breakdown, which the doctors said wasn’t uncommon after the death of a child.

  Joyce spent her last morning at the hospital sitting on an armchair by the window reading the Daily Mail. Stanley and Raymond were coming to collect her and were due to arrive soon. As the sun beat down through the glass, Joyce put down her paper and sat deep in thought. She still missed her daughter dreadfully, but after her recent illness, she knew that her own life had to go on. She felt much better mentally and physically since the doctors had taken her off those awful bloody tablets. They had turned her into a zombie, and the more her dosage was reduced, the better she had started to feel.

  Watching two sparrows splashing about in a bird bath, Joycie smiled. She couldn’t wait to get back to the house in Rainham and its beautiful garden, soon to be her own. Gary and Ricky had come to visit her last week, explaining Eddie’s wishes.

  ‘Me dad is in bits and he can’t apologise enough for what happened, Joycie. He loved your Jess and he’ll never forgive himself for the awful mistake he made. Anyway, he wants you to have the house. He said signing it over to you is the least he can do,’ Gary told her.

  Joyce had been stunned and hadn’t known what to say or do. ‘I need to discuss this with my Stanley and Raymond. Can you pop back tomorrow, boys? And I’ll let you know my decision then,’ she said.

  Stanley had gone apeshit. ‘Can’t you see what the bastard’s trying to do, Joycie? He’s trying to ease his own guilt by buying us. Tell him to stick his house where the sun don’t shine.’

  Keen for his parents to have a better life, Raymond disagreed and had a long chat with his father. ‘Look, Dad, your ex-council house must be worth a fair old lump sum. If you take Ed up on his offer, you can sell that and live the life of Riley. I know how you feel about Eddie, but for once you wanna think about your own well-being. For all Ed’s faults, we both know that he adored Jessica, and he didn’t mean to do what he did. If you let him sign the house over to Mum, you and her will be set up for the rest of your lives. You’ll never have to worry about money again. Even though you don’t agree, you’ve gotta think of Mum. She loves that house and it makes her feel close to Jessica. Knowing that she owns it will help her recovery no end.’

  ‘But what about all the memories, Raymond? Every time I walk in the kitchen, I picture Jessica standing at that cooker.’

  Raymond put a comforting arm around his father’s shoulder. ‘Decorate the place so it don’t look the same. Take my advice, Dad, take Eddie up on the offer.’

  Joycie was snapped out of her daydream by the arrival of her husband and son. ‘There you are. I’ve been ready and waiting for you for over an hour.’

  Stanley smiled. Joycie’s moaning only proved to him that his wife was on the mend. ‘Hold me arm, Joycie,’ he ordered her.

  Joyce glared at him. ‘I’m not an invalid, you silly old goat. I’m quite capable of walking, you know. Now pick up that case, Stanley, and hurry up and get me out of this godforsaken loony bin.’

  Eddie Mitchell smiled as he placed the file in his sock. Tomorrow was the big day, and he couldn’t wait to wipe the smiles off the faces of Big Bald Baz and his dickhead mates.

  Ed had found an inner strength over the last few weeks, and had eased himself into the prison system. He’d even made friends with a young screw called Johnny, who was easily won over.

  Obviously, he never stopped thinking of his beautiful wife, but as the weeks had passed, the tears and pain had now turned into anger and a stomach full of revenge. One day Jed O’Hara would pay for what he had made him do, Eddie would make sure of it.

  Ed didn’t allow himself to think of Jessica’s murder at all any more; instead he concentrated on all the good times that they’d had. Holidays, Christmases, parties, that kind of stuff, but most of all he pictured himself and Jessica lying in bed together. Those were the very special times, when no one else in the world, not even the kids, had existed.

  As soon as Big Bald Baz stopped snoring, Eddie prepared himself for the usual claptrap out of the fat prick’s mouth.

  ‘All right, Mitchell? You’re not thinking of that night you did your wife in again, are you?’

  While Baz chuckled, Eddie did his best to keep hold of his temper. He’d been desperate for weeks to shut the ponce up, but he wasn’t about to do it in th
e cell. Eddie loved a bit of impact, so to have Baz in front of his cronies was the only way forward.

  Pretending to scratch his foot, Eddie smirked as he ran his fingers along the file that Johnny had managed to smuggle in. He’d doctored the thing himself by rubbing it endlessly against the brick wall. Sharp as a razor the fucker was now, with a point like the Eiffel Tower.

  When Baz let out one almighty fart, Eddie picked up his book. The geezer was filth, an utter animal, and Ed couldn’t wait to get rid of his oversized carcass once and for all.

  Unaware that her dad was up to his old tricks again, Frankie stood awkwardly in Alice O’Hara’s kitchen. Unfortunately for her, it was time for another cooking lesson.

  ‘Now, don’t stand there doing nothing. You’re never gonna learn how to be a good wife if you don’t do stuff with your own hands. Wash that liver under the cold tap, then roll it in the flour,’ Alice ordered.

  Frankie had been relatively lucky with sickness during her pregnancy. She’d had a couple of bouts of it in the first few weeks, but since then she’d been OK. Until now, that was.

  Picking up the liver, Frankie quickly slung it back down on the worktop. ‘I can’t do it. It feels horrible,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be such a dinlo,’ Alice said, picking the liver up and waving it in front of her nose.

  Feeling under duress, Frankie tried to touch it again. Without warning, she immediately heaved and slung her guts up all over the kitchen floor. Feeling embarrassed and scared of Alice’s reaction, Frankie began to cry.

  ‘Now, stop all that. You can’t help it, you’re pregnant,’ Alice said kindly, as she led her into the lounge.

  While Alice went off to clear up the mess, Frankie felt extremely sorry for herself. She missed her own family terribly. Joey, her mum, Nan, Grandad and, even though he’d done a dreadful thing, she even missed her dad.

  Living with Jed was turning out to be not as much fun as Frankie had hoped. She loved the evenings when they were alone and all cosied up in the trailer, but when Jed was out grafting, she hated it. Alice taking a special interest in her potential homemaking skills wasn’t exactly helping matters, either.

  Frankie spoke to Joey virtually every day and she knew that her nan was much better and was moving back into the house with her grandad. The trouble was, Jed had made her promise that she would have no more to do with her family, and, each day that passed, Frankie missed them that little bit more.

  ‘When we get wed, you’ll be an O’Hara, Frankie. Look at the way they’ve treated you and me. You’re my girl now, we’re having a chavvie together, so you’ve just got to forget about ’em.’

  Although Frankie had originally agreed with Jed, she didn’t now. She wanted to go and see her grandparents, try to build some bridges. Knowing Jed would strongly disagree, Frankie decided that if and when she went, she wouldn’t tell him. Hopefully, if she was careful, he would never find out anyway.

  Joey punched the air in delight as he spotted Dominic waiting for him in reception. Dom had got him an interview in the building where he worked and Joey had just been offered the position. It was nothing special. He’d be working as a post boy/courier, and would spend half of his day in the post room and the other half delivering mail and parcels in and around the City.

  Dominic hugged him. ‘I take it you got it, then?’

  Joey dragged him into a nearby pub. ‘Of course I did. Let’s celebrate.’

  Dom ordered a bottle of champagne and they sat down at a quiet table. ‘Is everything still OK for tomorrow?’

  Joey nodded. His nan had come out of hospital only this morning and insisted that he bring his new friend round for one of her special roasts the following day. Ever since they’d got back together, Joey had spent most of his time staying at Dominic’s flat. Dom had been keeping him financially, as since his mum had died and his dad had got locked up, he’d been completely brassic.

  ‘Once I get my first wage packet, I’ll pay you back all that money I borrowed,’ Joey said happily.

  Dom shook his head. He had a high-powered job and certainly wasn’t short of a few quid. ‘I didn’t lend it to you, Joey, I gave it to you. I tell you what you can do though, when you get that first pay packet – you can take me out for a nice slap-up meal. The works, I want.’

  As Dom left the table to answer a business call, Joey grinned. His boyfriend was one in a million, and the only downside to his life was that his mum wasn’t able to share his happiness with him.

  Joey rarely thought consciously of his dad any more. Now and again he dreamed about him, but other than that, he’d completely erased him from his mind and his life.

  When he saw Dom walk back inside the pub, Joey smiled. Uncle Raymond and Polly were also going to his grandparents’ for dinner tomorrow and Joey felt that perhaps the time was right to tell his family about his and Dom’s relationship.

  It might come as a shock to them at first, but the quicker he and Dominic were accepted as a couple, the happier Joey could be.

  Joycie felt content as she sat on the bench in the garden. Raymond and Stanley had worked wonders while she had been in hospital. They’d repaired the broken furniture, assembled a new pigeon shed, replaced the trampled flowers, and the house itself was absolutely spotless. As Stanley handed her a cuppa, Joyce urged him to sit down next to her.

  ‘Where’s Joey?’ she asked.

  Stanley shrugged. ‘I think he said he had an interview or something. To be honest, Joycie, the last few weeks he’s hardly been here. He’s got that mate, Dominic, ain’t he, who lives in Islington, and he’s been stopping over at his. He did pop in the other day, mind, and he seems much brighter and happier.’

  ‘Well, who exactly is this mate? I’m sure I ain’t met no Dominic,’ Joycie said suspiciously.

  ‘Joey says we have met him before. He said he came to his and Frankie’s birthday party earlier this year. You gotta remember he’s sixteen, Joycie. If Joey wants to stop at his mate’s flat, we can’t do much to stop him.’

  Joyce pursed her lips. ‘Well, good job he’s bringing this Dominic around for dinner tomorrow. At least we can check him out, make sure he comes from a good home. For all we know, he could be a druggie, Stanley.’

  Just a short distance down the road, Frankie had felt tired and depressed all day, so had taken herself off to the bedroom for a catnap. On awakening, still bleary-eyed, she stumbled into the lounge. The reek of aftershave hit her nostrils immediately, and she was shocked to see Jed spruced up in a shirt and trousers.

  ‘What’s happening? Why you all dressed up? Are we meant to be going out?’

  Jed kissed her on the forehead and laughed. ‘I’m going out, you’re staying ’ere, Frankie. I told you the other day I was going to a stag night. You know my cousin, Sammy? Well, his mate Donny’s getting married at the weekend.’

  ‘You never told me anything,’ Frankie said stubbornly.

  ‘I did. Your mind’s all over the place at the moment. It’s because you’re borey – that means “pregnant” in Romany – before you ask. Anyway, you don’t have to feel left out, ’cause I’m taking you to their wedding reception over in Kent.’

  Frankie moved away from him and flopped onto the sofa. ‘Do you have to go to his stag night, Jed? I’ve been stuck here on my own all day and I’m so bored.’

  Sitting down next to her, Jed squeezed her hand. ‘Of course I have to go. You don’t want me to look like a dinlo, do ya? Why don’t you go next door and watch telly with me mum and dad?’

  At the mention of Jed’s mother, Frankie burst into tears. ‘I want my own mum, not someone else’s,’ she sobbed.

  Making sure that her tears didn’t ruin his Ralph Lauren shirt, Jed put an arm around her. ‘Look, no one can bring your mum back, Frankie. I know what happened was rotten, but you’ve got your cuntsmouth of a father to blame for that. We’re gonna be parents ourself soon, so you gotta pull yourself together. How you gonna take care of our chavvie properly if you’re upset all the poxy
time?’

  Frankie stared at him in horror. Her mum had only been dead for two months, so surely she was allowed to grieve. ‘Just go, Jed,’ she said angrily.

  Jed stood up. He was gagging for a good night out and he wasn’t going to let Frankie spoil it for him. ‘I’ll try not to be late. Why don’t you have an early night? You look ever so tired,’ he said gently.

  Frankie wanted to tell him to fuck off, but didn’t have the guts to. If she was still living back at home, she would have told him where to go, but what was the point now when she was so reliant on him?

  ‘Love you,’ Jed said, as he slammed the trailer door.

  Over in South London, Eddie Mitchell reread the letter he’d received today from Paulie. He didn’t usually receive a lot of post, but today he’d had mail from Raymond, his Uncle Reg and his eldest brother.

  Raymond’s letter was pretty brief, but he’d asked for a visiting order to be sent, which had pleased Ed no end.

  Reggie’s letter had been pleasant, but long-winded. He’d spoken in detail about Auntie Joan, Auntie Vi, Uncle Albert, but had said very little else of interest.

  It had been Paulie’s letter that had been the real eye-opener. A, Ed hadn’t expected to ever hear from him again after the fall-out they’d had earlier this year, and B, no other fucker had told him that Jed and Jimmy O’Hara had turned up and ruined Jessica’s funeral.

  To say Ed was livid was the understatement of the century. It wasn’t just the fact that the bastards had had the front to turn up, it was also because no one had felt fit or brave enough to tell him about it. Eddie was especially annoyed with Gary and Ricky. He could understand people not wanting to tell him what had happened by letter, but his sons had been to visit him week in, week out.

  Folding up Paulie’s letter, Ed shoved it under his pillow. Even his own flesh and blood obviously believed he’d lost the plot that fucking much he couldn’t handle any more bad news.