East End 02-East End Diamond

by DS as Dani Oakley Butler

  But he hadn’t been able to stop himself. The chips had been the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

  He didn’t want to stay indoors and listen to his nan snoring for the rest of the evening, so he decided to take a walk past the old bomb site to see if any of his mates were hanging about.

  None of Jimmy’s friends were there, but he recognised a group of boys, who were a couple of years above him at school, hanging around beside a row of terraced houses that were soon to be demolished.

  Jimmy contemplated joining them, but it didn’t look like they were doing anything interesting. It seemed like they were kicking about a bundle of rags.

  Jimmy tightened his grip on his parcel of chips and turned around, preparing to go home, when he heard a shout.

  It sounded like somebody in pain.

  When he turned back, he saw the bundle of rags they were kicking was, in fact, a little boy.

  Jimmy didn’t recognise the lad. He couldn’t see him properly from where he stood. Jimmy dropped his chips. There were five of those big lads, and the boy on the floor looked even younger than Jimmy.

  “That ain’t fair,” Jimmy muttered under his breath. He stashed his bag of chips beside a pile of rubble and strode across to them, shouting out as he went. “Oi!”

  His shout attracted the older boys’ attention, and they turned around to face him, momentarily leaving the little boy on the ground alone.

  The looks they gave him made Jimmy’s stomach twist nervously. But he didn’t regret intervening. Jimmy Diamond wasn’t afraid of a fight. He’d seen plenty of them.

  The fact that his mother had been murdered was common knowledge, as was the fact he’d been born out of wedlock, so he’d experienced plenty of fights after kids had teased him about being an orphan and a bastard.

  He pulled himself up to his full height, which was still head and shoulders below the tallest boy of the group.

  “Leave him alone,” Jimmy said, trying to sound stern as he came to a stop just a couple of feet from the group of boys.

  The tallest boy stepped forward in front of Jimmy. “And what are you going to do about it if we don’t?”

  In the past being hotheaded hadn’t got Jimmy very far, so he tried a different tactic. “Look. He’s only a little’un.”

  Jimmy pointed at the little boy on the floor, who had sat up and was looking at Jimmy with wide tearstained eyes.

  Now he was closer, Jimmy recognised him as Georgie Carter. He was in the same year as Jimmy at school, but everybody knew Georgie was a little bit slow, and that just made Jimmy angrier. What kind of person picked on somebody like that?

  Georgie had only been at Jimmy’s school for a few months. Before that, he’d been in a special school. When he’d arrived, Jimmy’s favourite teacher, Miss Muswell, had told them all they needed to make Georgie feel very welcome.

  “What do you know about it, bastard?” one of the boys taunted.

  He had a spotty face and greasy hair, and Jimmy knew he was what his nan would describe as all mouth and no trousers. Although he shouted out his comments, he hung back behind his friends. If it came down to a one-on-one with him, Jimmy knew he could beat that kid no problem.

  The trouble was it wasn’t one-on-one. Right now, it was five against one because it didn’t look like little Georgie was putting up much of a fight.

  “Come on,” Jimmy said. “You’ve had your fun. Let the poor little bleeder go home.”

  The tallest one, the one Jimmy had now recognised as the ringleader, took a menacing step forward.

  “And who’s gonna make me?”

  Jimmy gave a cocky smile. “Me,” he said simply.

  Perhaps most people would have held back and not thrown the first punch, but Jimmy had spent the last several years learning how to fight.

  There was no honour in a street fight, no rules, and he knew now that a fight was inevitable. The time for talking was over. His survival instinct kicked in, and he knew that he had to go in first and go in hard.

  With a roar of outrage, Jimmy rushed forward and grabbed the tall boy’s school shirt. He yanked it down hard, giving him the chance to bring his head down hard on the bridge of the boy’s nose.

  It took a moment for the other boys to realise what had happened.

  The tall ringleader took a couple of steps backwards, staggered a little before falling down on his arse, dazed from the head-butt. Blood poured from his nose, and his eyes watered so hard it looked as if he was crying.

  Before Jimmy could congratulate himself, the other boys charged him.

  This time, he didn’t have the element of surprise on his side, and he only got a couple of blows in before he realised the best use of his hands was trying to defend his head and ribs from their punches and kicks.

  As they continued to rain blows down on him, Jimmy thought it would never end until finally he heard the sound of a deep, male voice.

  Suddenly all the blows stopped, and when Jimmy dared to look up, he saw a huge man towering above him, holding one of the boys by the scruff of the neck and shaking him as if he was a rag doll.

  Jimmy held his breath.

  Was this man a policeman? Was he going to get into trouble?

  Surely his nan would understand if Jimmy explained he was only trying to stick up for poor little Georgie Carter.

  The man flung the boy to the ground, and within seconds, it was all over. All the boys had scarpered.

  Jimmy was too scared to move. The man glaring down at him looked so furious. All Jimmy could do was gaze up at him mesmerised.

  He was so caught up in this new arrival, he didn’t even notice little Georgie coming over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thanks for s…sticking up for me,” Georgie said with a lisp. He handed him a handkerchief.

  When Jimmy took it, but didn’t do anything with it, Georgie stuttered, “You’ve got some b…blood on your nose.”

  Jimmy managed to mumble thanks and then clamped the handkerchief to his nose to try and stem the blood.

  The tall man standing beside them kneeled down and put his face close to Jimmy’s. His eyes were sharp and unflinching, and Jimmy felt like the man could see inside his head and read his mind. “What’s your name, son?”

  Jimmy gulped. He was a policeman. Oh no. Now he would get in trouble and those bullies would get off scot-free.

  But little Georgie didn’t seem to be afraid of this huge man. To Jimmy’s amazement, he put his arm around his shoulder and hugged him.

  “His name is Jimmy, Dad. He goes to the same school as me.”

  Dad? Jimmy’s mind scrambled to make sense of the situation. Georgie Carter…did that mean this man was Dave Carter? Even Jimmy had heard of him, mainly from his nan telling him to steer well clear of the Carters. But Carter was a common enough name and Jimmy would never have suspected little Georgie was related to the notorious gangster.

  Jimmy felt a wave of relief. At least he wasn’t a copper. Maybe he wouldn’t get into trouble, after all. He could nip back over to the other side of the bomb site, collect his chips and be on the way home. With any luck, he’d be able to see to his cuts and bruises before his nan noticed them.

  “What was going on here?” the man demanded.

  “Jimmy was sticking up for me. Those boys were bullying me again.”

  The man turned back to Jimmy. “My name is Dave Carter.”

  He held out his hand, and Jimmy looked at it in amazement. It took him a moment to realise he was supposed to shake it.

  When he did, he felt a bit silly. His tiny hand was dwarfed against Dave Carter’s huge fingers.

  “Thank you for sticking up for my boy.”

  Jimmy managed to speak finally. “I like Georgie. Those other kids are older than us. They shouldn’t be picking on him.”

  Dave Carter stood up and then turned his head, looking off into the distance. The bullies had run off in that direction but there was no sign of them now.

  “I couldn’t agree
more, Jimmy. And I can promise you something. Their families are going to regret what happened today.”

  Jimmy looked up at him in awe and shivered. He suddenly felt very glad that he wasn’t one of those boys.

  CHAPTER 4

  Dave Carter liked to think he was a man in control of his emotions, but when he’d seen little Georgie bruised and battered, he’d been filled with fury. It was all he could do to restrain himself from wringing those little bastard’s necks.

  He’d taken Georgie straight home, carrying the boy in his arms as though he were a baby again. Every time he looked at Georgie’s tear-streaked face, he felt another wave of fury flood his body.

  Georgie seemed to sense his father’s dark mood and didn’t ask any questions or talk at all on the way home.

  After Dave stepped through the front door of their terraced house, he sat Georgie down on his feet.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Dave tried to keep his voice gentle, but it sounded gruff.

  Only now he had brought Georgie safely home did he allow himself to focus on what he was going to do next.

  Dave could always keep a level head when dealing with business, but this wasn’t business. It was personal. He couldn’t get over the fact that those boys had taken such liberty. Did they not know who Georgie’s father was? Or did they not care?

  Dave was going to make Georgie tell him the names of every one of those boys, so he could pay their parents a special visit. They would soon learn not to mess with Dave Carter’s family.

  Dave pulled off Georgie’s coat and hung it on the peg along with his own, and all the while, Georgie kept his big blue eyes fixed on his father.

  “Are you angry with me, Dad?” Georgie asked.

  Dave shook his head. “Of course, I’m not. I’m angry with those horrible boys. Now go upstairs and wash your face.”

  Georgie nodded and then slowly turned and started plodding his way upstairs.

  Dave walked into the kitchen. He was still shaking with anger. He hated feeling like this. He was used to being in control.

  Sandra was sitting at the kitchen table, looking dazed. She hadn’t even looked up when Dave entered the kitchen. It wasn’t surprising really. She was drugged up to the bleeding eyeballs again.

  Dave ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

  Sandra had started popping the pills straight after Georgie was born.

  He’d understood at first. After all, anything that helped her through that awful time when they lost Lillian had to be a good thing.

  Dave had expected it to be a temporary stopgap. The trouble was Sandra never stopped taking the pills.

  She blinked up at him now, finally realising he was in the kitchen.

  “Oh, hello, love. I didn’t realise the time. I’ll get dinner on.”

  She got up from the chair and wobbled, leaning heavily on the kitchen table to support herself.

  “Don’t worry,” Dave said. “I’ll fix something for us.”

  The boys would both have to put up with bread and cheese tonight. There was no way Dave could risk letting Sandra loose in the kitchen. The last time she’d cooked when she’d been this drugged up she’d managed to set the chip pan on fire. He wasn’t chancing that again.

  He looked at his wife and wondered whether it was possible for them to go back to how it had been before they’d lost Lillian. Dave knew he had changed as well. He was colder now and less emotional.

  For the first six months after Georgie’s birth, he could barely stand to hold the poor little sod. It wasn’t Georgie’s fault he was born on the same day as his sister’s funeral.

  In his heart, he knew it was wrong, but he’d resented Georgie. Nobody could replace Lillian in his affections, but as Georgie got older, Dave couldn’t help but grow to love him. He had such a good heart, and he was the sweetest little boy. It wasn’t his fault he was a bit slow. The doctor had said it was because he was born too early.

  “Sit down, love,” he said to Sandra, trying to keep his voice soft.

  She had started moving about the kitchen, picking things up and putting them down again, and right now, she was standing there with a knife, looking bewildered as though she couldn’t remember where it went.

  Sandra licked her lips, nodded slowly and then sat back down at the kitchen table.

  Dave sat opposite her and reached for her hand.

  “I found some boys bullying little Georgie,” Dave said. “But you’re not to worry. I’m going to sort it.”

  Sandra’s forehead wrinkled with a frown as though she struggled to understand him.

  Dave removed his hand from Sandra’s and sat back from the table, pulling away from her. What chance did his boys have when their mother was acting like this?

  He wanted to shake some sense into her, but Dave had never laid a finger on a woman in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

  He turned as he heard the front door open. It was Trevor, their eldest boy. He slammed the door behind him, which irritated Dave.

  “And where have you been?” Dave asked, fixing Trevor with a glare the moment he stepped into the kitchen.

  Trevor narrowed his eyes and gave his father a surly look. “With my mates.”

  Dave had to bite his tongue. He wanted to lay into the boy and get him to show some respect. Trevor was always moody, and Dave found it impossible to have a proper conversation with him. Of course, he’d improved vastly over the past few years. For the six months following Lillian’s death, Trevor hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, but eventually, he started to talk at school and then at home.

  Dave tried to be understanding, but it wasn’t easy.

  He’d spent his childhood looking after his younger brother, Gary. He’d always felt protective of Gary, so he didn’t understand why Trevor just didn’t care about little Georgie.

  “While you were with your mates, poor little Georgie was getting set upon by a gang of boys at least three years older than him.”

  Dave waited for Trevor’s response. If he asked how his brother was, or even showed the least bit of concern for him, Dave was prepared to forgive him.

  But Trevor scowled. “It’s not my job to look after him.”

  “Of course, it is,” Dave said, rapidly losing patience. “You’re his older brother. You’re supposed to make sure he’s all right. Why weren’t you looking out for him?”

  Trevor looked down at the floor, but it wasn’t in shame. He was just having a sulk.

  Dave shook his head. “Luckily, there was another boy who intervened on Georgie’s behalf. He stuck up for him.”

  Dave paused to see whether Trevor would ask who this boy had been, but Trevor continued his moody silence.

  “The boy was called Jimmy. Do you know who that is?”

  Trevor shrugged. “No.”

  “Go and check on your brother,” Dave said, giving up. “And then wash your hands and come down for supper.”

  “What have we got?” Trevor asked looking round the kitchen and noticing there was nothing cooking on the stove.

  “Cheese sandwiches,” Dave said. “You don’t deserve anything else.”

  Through the whole conversation, Sandra said nothing. She just stared blankly into space.

  * * *

  Trevor stomped upstairs. It wasn’t fair. He always got the blame when Georgie got hurt. He shouldn’t have to look after his little brother. None of Trevor’s mates had to look after their brothers and sisters. If Georgie couldn’t look after himself, he should just stay at home.

  Trevor knew his father liked to blame him for everything. If he hadn’t been scolded for not looking after Georgie, his father would have found another reason to tear strips off him. His father had always hated him. He wished Trevor had died instead of Lillian.

  Georgie opened the bathroom door and stepped out onto the landing in front of Trevor. The collar of his shirt all wet from where he’d splashed water on his face.

  “What have you been up to?” Trevor asked, petulantly.r />
  Georgie blinked in surprise. “I just had a wash,” he said.

  “No, dummy. I mean what did you do this afternoon that’s made Dad so upset. He just had a right go at me. Practically chewed my ear off.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t my fault. Some bad boys were calling me names, and then they started to hit me.”

  “Who were they?”

  “It was Ronnie Patterson who started it, the boy in the year above you.”

  Trevor nodded slowly. Patterson was a well-known bully at school. It was also well-known that his father laid into him practically every night, and he was always turning up at school with bruises covering his body.

  Still, Trevor couldn’t let him get away with beating up his little brother. His dad was right about that. Georgie was an annoying little brat at times, but he was still Trevor’s brother.

  “Dad’s going to want their names. I think he’ll probably talk to their parents.”

  Georgie nodded slowly then smiled at his big brother, showing off the gap in his front teeth. “Can I walk to school with you tomorrow?”

  Trevor was on the verge of refusing when he thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was his brother hanging beside him on the way to school like a little limpet. His mates would laugh at him. But on the other hand, Dad would throttle him if anything else happened to Georgie, so he would have to put up with it.

  “All right,” Trevor said, grumpily. “But you have to keep quiet and not chatter on like you normally do.”

  The smile disappeared from Georgie’s face as he nodded solemnly.

  Trevor nipped into the bathroom and quickly washed his hands when he heard their father calling them down for supper.

  He couldn’t wait to finish his sandwich and then sneak back off to his room. The less time he spent with his family, the better as far as Trevor was concerned.

  CHAPTER 5

  Babs Morton sat rigidly in her chair. She had just sat through one of the most tedious dinners of her life, and considering how many dinners she’d shared with Violet Morton, that was really saying something.

  Violet had been waltzing around like usual, putting on all her fake airs and graces. She’d served up steak and kidney pudding, and went on and on about how long it took her to cook it.