‘Frankie, look at my wabbit,’ Rosie said, waving a bright pink fluffy toy.
Frankie bent down, picked up her little sister and smothered her in kisses. Rosie was absolutely adorable and her presence never failed to cheer Frankie up, however bad her mood. Aaron was cute as well, but he could be a boisterous little sod at times and was forever breaking Brett’s toys, which pissed Frankie off no end.
‘Brett and Kelvin are in the garden if you wanna go and play with them,’ she said, ruffling her little brother’s hair.
As Aaron ran off, Eddie nudged Stuart. ‘Where’s the bag?’
‘I’ll get it out the car later,’ Stuart said. He didn’t want to make himself look like a knob by giving Frankie her present in front of the whole of her family. He’d rather do it later when most of them had gone home.
Babs helped Frankie pour everybody a drink. ‘Have you got to pick Jordan up later?’ Frankie asked her friend as she clocked her pour herself another one.
Babs smiled and shook her head. Her elder son, Jordan, was fourteen now and football-mad. He played for a local team on a Saturday and today his friend’s mum was dropping him home for her.
Joey thanked Babs for his drink, then turned to his father. ‘The O’Haras’ house looks well posh now. Me and Dom had a good nose at it as we drove past earlier. It’s all been painted and they’ve laid new grass all around the front. Whoever bought it is obviously a keen gardener, as they’ve planted trees and all sorts. Did you ever find out who the bloke was that supposedly sold it, Dad?’
Eddie glanced at Gary and Ricky. The O’Haras’ gaff had been sold about a year after their disappearance, and finding out that it wasn’t in Jimmy’s name and instead was in the name of a traveller from Birmingham called Johnny Bullock was a real kick in the teeth for Ed and the police. It was Larry who had got hold of the inside information on Bullock, and Ed and the lads had gone to Birmingham to pay him a little visit. Neither they nor the police had had any luck finding him, though, as he’d also done a disappearing act.
‘No. We’re still looking for him, though, and I’m sure if we find him, he’ll lead us to Jimmy. I’ve got loads of people on the lookout. In fact, I had a phone call from an old pal who has links to Wolverhampton yesterday. He gave me the address of a remote site there where a geezer called Bullock lives. Ray and Terry are gonna check it out on Monday for me.’
‘You should have seen Baldwin clump that flash bastard that cut us up the other day, Dad. The geezer flew about four feet in the air; he was a big old lump an’ all,’ Ricky said, laughing.
Eddie grinned. Gary and Ricky had been extremely dubious when he’d first taken Baldwin on, but Terry was loyal, hard working and over the years had become a great addition to the firm. In fact, he had one of the best right-handers on him that Eddie had ever seen in his life.
‘Did I hear my Raymond mentioned?’ Joycie asked, walking into the lounge with yet another brandy and Baileys in her hand.
‘Yeah, I was just saying Ray is shooting up to the Midlands for me on Monday,’ Eddie replied.
‘What a terrible son that boy’s turned out to be, ain’t he, Stanley?’ Joyce shouted out.
‘Did you call me, dear?’ Stanley asked, running into the lounge like a naughty schoolboy. Even after all these years he still never felt comfortable sitting in the same room as Eddie. He was always polite to him for Joycie’s sake, but he would much rather play with the children in the garden than breathe the same air as the man who had brutally murdered his daughter.
‘Yes, I did. I was just telling Eddie and the boys what a terrible son our Raymond is. Never visits us, does he? And even if he does pop in, he’s always got that monster of a child with him. What a spoilt little bastard that is.’
Eddie burst out laughing. As per usual, after a few bevvies Joycie was as blunt as blunt could be. In this case she was right, though. Chelsea was now six years old and was Polly and Raymond’s only child. She’d been totally mollycoddled since she was a baby and was given everything she wanted. Raymond and Polly had recently had three attempts at IVF and Ed just hoped that one day it would work, because if it didn’t there was little hope for Chelsea’s future.
‘I don’t think it’s Raymondo, it’s the bloody mother. Ray was telling me Polly even bought Chelsea a designer handbag recently. I mean, what the fuck does a six-year-old want a designer handbag for?’ Eddie said, sticking up for his pal.
‘Who you talking about?’ Frankie asked as she walked into the room with Babs.
‘Chelsea. Do you wanna sit down?’ Stuart asked, standing up, and offering Frankie his chair.
About to sit down, Frankie saw Nicole stick her tongue in Gary’s ear and at the same time put her hand on his groin. ‘Excuse me. We’re meant to be having a family get-together to mark Georgie’s thirteenth birthday, not a fucking orgy,’ she said.
Joey, Dom, Stu, Babs and Eddie all laughed. Stanley and Joycie looked at one another in disgust. Slobbering all over one another in public was something they’d never done, even when they were courting.
‘Can we go now, babes?’ Nicole whined at Gary. What Frankie had said had gone in one ear and straight out the other. She couldn’t help it if she had a high sex drive, could she?
‘Yeah, we need to make a move, guys. We’ve got to get our nails done and have a sunbed before we start getting ready for the party tonight,’ Amy added.
Gary and Ricky stood up and both gave their sister an awkward hug. ‘Keep your chin up today. I know it’s difficult, girl, but we’ll never give up looking for Georgie and Harry for you. One day we’ll find ’em, I know we will,’ Gary promised her.
Frankie saw her brothers out and went to check on the kids in the garden. The house her dad had bought for her and Babs to live in had five bedrooms and a massive garden, so there was plenty of room for the kids to play happily in.
‘Sing to me, Frankie,’ Rosie shrieked, running towards her. She was a sturdy little girl with chubby little legs to match and as she neared Frankie she held her arms out to her. Taking hold of Rosie’s hands, Frankie had tears in her eyes as she remembered singing the same song to Georgie when she was her sister’s age.
‘Ring a ring o’roses, a pocket full of posies, atishoo, atishoo, we all fall down,’ Frankie sang.
Rosie giggled as she fell onto the grass. ‘What a matter?’ she asked, realising her big sister was crying.
‘Nothing. I’m just being silly because I love you so much,’ Frankie replied, scooping Rosie into her arms.
The rest of the day was full of laughter and tears. Most of the laughter came via Joyce, especially when Eddie said he was sorry to hear the Jaguar had been written off and asked Joyce if they were going to buy another car.
‘Not on your nelly. That dirty old pervert nearly killed me! He can’t drive no more, he’s bleedin’ senile,’ came Joycie’s humorous reply.
The sadness was all centred over conversations about Georgie and Harry, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Frankie asked, ‘Do you think when she’s sixteen, Georgie will try and track me down? Or do you think she’s totally forgotten who I am?’
At nine o’clock everybody bar Stuart and Dominic were quite inebriated. The Chinese takeaway had been greedily eaten by all and Jordan had just taken Brett and Kelvin up to bed.
‘Oh dear, I feel ever so giddy, Stanley,’ Joycie said, laying her head on her husband’s lap.
Stanley immediately jumped up. Joyce had laid her head right near his crotch area and any woman’s head that came within a foot of his John Thomas would always dredge up terrible memories of what Pat the Pigeon had done to him that time.
‘I’ll drop you and Joycie home, Stanley. Come on, Joey, time to go,’ Dominic said, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder.
‘Where’s Madonna?’ Joey asked, half asleep.
‘We left her with our neighbour, you pillock. Now stand up will you?’ Dominic said sternly.
‘I’d better make a move now an’ all. You all right to d
rop me off home, Stu?’ Eddie asked.
Stuart nodded.
‘You carry Aaron and I’ll take Rosie,’ Eddie said, nodding towards his kids, who were both sound asleep on one of the armchairs.
‘How’s Auntie Joan now, Dad? She weren’t well last time I saw you and I meant to ask after her earlier,’ Frankie enquired, as she followed her father towards the front door.
Eddie grinned at the mention of his favourite aunt. His dad’s brother Albert had died a couple of years back, but even though they were now all in their eighties, Joanie, Vi and Reg were all still going strong. ‘She’s fine, babe. She’ll outlive all of us, will Joanie,’ Ed replied, chuckling.
As Stuart unlocked his BMW, he immediately spotted Frankie’s present. He put Aaron in the back and grabbed the bag. ‘Get in the car, Ed. I just wanna give this to Frankie,’ he said, running back towards the house.
Frankie was still standing at the front door. ‘What’s that?’ she asked.
‘Have a look inside and you’ll find out.’
Frankie looked inside the gift bag. ‘Ahh, Stu, you shouldn’t have done that, you silly sod. Why did you buy them for me?’
‘Because you liked ’em, you doughnut. I also thought you might need a bit of cheering up today.’
Frankie put the bag down and flung her arms around Stuart’s neck. ‘Thanks ever so much, mate, that’s really thoughtful of ya.’
‘I’d better go, else your dad’ll be cursing,’ Stuart said. He was enjoying the feel of her body against his a bit too much.
‘You popping round again tomorrow?’ Frankie asked him.
‘Why don’t me, you, Babs and the kids all go for a Sunday roast tomorrow? My treat.’
‘We’ll come with you, but you ain’t paying for us all. Me and Babs can pay half towards it.’
‘Whatever. I’ll pick you up at one,’ Stuart said, walking away. Frankie rarely let him pay for anything for her and he knew deep down it was because she didn’t feel romantically about him. There was little point in arguing with her, because if he did, she wouldn’t go for the bloody meal.
Babs giggled as Frankie shut the front door. ‘You and that man gonna get married one day. You a match made in heaven, sweet child.’
Frankie glared at her friend. Babs hadn’t changed since they’d first met in prison. Her mass of afro hair was exactly the same, her smile could still light up a room, and she was, unfortunately, still a bloody wind-up merchant.
‘Don’t start all that bollocks, ’cause I’m telling you now – see me? I’m never gonna marry anyone. All men are wankers, Babs. I hate ’em.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Georgie O’Hara put on her red low-cut top, wiggled her voluptuous hips and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Her ripped jeans clung to her buttocks and legs like they were moulded to her skin and the new top she had bought yesterday showed off her fantastic cleavage, just as she’d known it would.
Most girls her age were still in bunches, playing with their dolls, but not Georgie. She was extremely aware of her sex appeal and, with her pretty face, long legs, mass of dark wavy hair and ample breasts, she looked more like an eighteen-year-old, rather than a young girl who had just entered her teenage years.
‘What you doin’ in there? I hope you’re not putting that crap on your face again,’ Alice shouted, banging on her granddaughter’s bedroom door.
Georgie quickly put on her black Puffa jacket and zipped it up to the neck. She checked that she had her make-up and compact mirror in her pocket, then flung open her bedroom door. ‘I told you, I threw the make-up away. If you don’t believe me, search my bloody room,’ she replied, her voice full of attitude.
Alice stared into her granddaughter’s fiery green eyes. When Georgie was angry, beauty shone from her like a beacon and her stunning looks worried Alice immensely. She was already a hit with the boys, especially that Ryan Maloney, who was always sniffing around.
‘You’re not too old for a cuddle, are you?’ Alice said, smiling. She hated rowing with Georgie, liked to keep the peace.
Georgie obediently put her arms around her nan’s plump body and hugged her lovingly. Unlike most of her friends’ nans who were ugly old bats, Alice was still quite attractive. She had stunning green eyes, which were enhanced by her jet-black, thick hair and Georgie was actually quite proud of her. The only thing that grated on her was that her nan still treated her like a little girl, and she was anything but.
‘What you up to today? Not going out with that boy again, are you?’ Alice asked worriedly.
Desperate to avoid the usual long-winded interrogation, Georgie decided to lie. ‘No, Nan. I’m goin’ pictures with Josie, and then I’m gonna go shopping with my birthday money.’
‘Enjoy yourself, then, and make sure you’re back by nine,’ Alice shouted as Georgie shut the trailer door. She liked it when Georgie went shopping and to the pictures with young Josie. It was what little girls should be doing at her age, not knocking about with boys all the time. Feeling happy, Alice picked up her duster. She was proud of her luxurious five-bedroom mobile home, especially when it was gleaming, and she had two women coming over later for a reading.
When Alice dusted the photo frames, she took extra care of the ones that held pictures of the deceased. There was a beauty of Jimmy holding her grandson, Lukey boy, and a lovely one of her son, Mark, on his wedding day. Alice picked up the photo of Jed and Sammy sitting side by side on their horse and cart. Jed and Sammy had been more than just cousins, they’d been best pals, business partners and had spent their whole lives together as if they’d been joined at the hip, bless them.
‘God rest your soul, boy,’ Alice said as she put the photograph back on the cabinet.
Feeling mournful all of a sudden, Alice made herself a brew and took it outside to drink. It was a warm day for March, the birds were singing and the sun was shining brightly. Sitting on the step, Alice tilted her head towards the sun’s rays. She loved living in Scotland, preferred it a thousand times more than living in that doomed house in Essex.
Alice shut her eyes and allowed her mind to drift back to all those years ago when Jimmy had first bought their house in Rainham. It was certainly lavish and very posh, but Alice had had bad vibes about it from the moment she had first stepped over the threshold to view it. ‘I don’t like it, Jimmy. We’ll have no happiness living here. Please don’t buy it, let’s stay where we are,’ Alice had pleaded.
Desperate to get one up on Eddie bloody Mitchell, who he knew had enquired about the property, Jimmy had ignored her advice and bought the poxy place. Alice shook her head. If only Jimmy had listened to her warnings, their lives would have been so very different. The house had been cursed from the word go. So much badness had happened while they’d lived there, it was beyond belief. Jimmy having an affair had set the ball rolling. Alice had left him for years, but when she finally forgave him and moved back home, everything else started to go wrong. Jed got involved with Eddie Mitchell’s slut of a daughter, Frankie. Marky boy was killed by Eddie’s brothers, and just when Alice thought things could get no worse, her grandson Luke had had his brains blown out at poor Marky’s funeral. Then there was the last murder, the final nail in the coffin that had forced them to do a moonlight flit to Jimmy’s pal’s plot of land in Scotland.
‘Why fucking Scotland?’ Alice had screamed at her husband at the time.
‘Glasgow is the perfect place for us to hide out with the chavvies. It has such a small travelling community, it’ll be the last place anyone comes looking for us and even if they do, they’ll never find us on Mickey Maloney’s land,’ Jimmy had reassured her.
For once, her husband had been right. Mickey Maloney owned five acres of land situated off the southbound carriageway of the A80. Mickey’s family also lived on the land, along with four other travelling families. They were a happy, tight-knit little community that trusted one another implicitly and Alice had become especially friendly with Sarah, who lived in the mobile home opposit
e her.
Hearing the sound of her son’s cumbersome tipper truck approaching, Alice snapped out of her daydream and opened her eyes. When she and Jimmy had first moved to Scotland, they’d refused to tell their son Billy their whereabouts, because they didn’t trust his big-mouthed wife, Shannon. Billy had left Shannon just over a year ago and had since moved to Glasgow with his eighteen-year-old son, Mush. Alice loved having her son and grandson living next door to her. After losing so many important people in her life, the family she had left meant the world to her.
‘You seen or heard from your father on your travels?’ Alice asked, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. She’d been trying to get hold of Jimmy earlier, but he wasn’t answering his bloody phone.
‘Yeah, I spoke to him earlier. He was dropping a horse off in Stirling, then he was going for a game of cards with the lads.’
Knowing full well that whenever her husband played cards, he rolled up home pissed, Alice batted her eyes in pretend annoyance. She wasn’t really angry, though. As the old saying goes, boys will be boys.
Harry O’Hara ducked behind a tree as he saw the farmer’s Land Rover heading towards him and urged his pal Sonny to do the same. ‘Right, let’s do this quick while the coast is clear,’ Harry said, with a mischievous glint in his eye.
At eleven years old, Harry was virtually unrecognisable as the timid little boy he’d once been. His once almost white hair had now darkened and was more of a messy strawberry blonde. He had a front tooth missing, which had recently been knocked out in a fight with some older boys and, worse still, he’d picked up every bad trait he had ever heard his father talk about.
‘’Ere cacker, you chase the kanny towards me and I’ll catch it,’ Harry ordered Sonny. Kanny was the Romany word for chicken.
The bird clucked and darted about for a good five minutes before Sonny and Harry managed to corner it.
‘Gertcha, ya shitcunt,’ Harry shrieked, grabbing the chicken by its scrawny neck.
The Victim Page 33