The Victim

by Kimberley Chambers

  Knowing it was about to die, the bird let out one more tired cluck. Seconds later it went to chicken heaven.

  Jimmy O’Hara was with Mickey Maloney and four other travelling lads in a pub called the Babbity Bowster in Glasgow town centre. Rumour had it the boozer was named after a Scottish country dance, but Jimmy didn’t know if there was any truth in the fable or not. Jimmy sorted through his cards and confidently smirked. There was over three-hundred quid in the kitty and if he didn’t win this game of nine-card brag, he’d eat his fucking hat.

  ‘Come to Daddy,’ he said, as he laid his four sevens onto the sticky table.

  ‘You’re a jammy cunt, O’Hara,’ Mickey Maloney said, laughing.

  ‘Same again?’ Jimmy asked, standing up.

  ‘One for the road and then we’d better get home to them women of ours,’ Mickey replied.

  Jimmy was in a jolly mood as he strolled up to the bar. Life in Glasgow was wonderful, and since moving from Rainham, apart from selling a few motors and horses, Jimmy spent his days in the boozer and his evenings with his family. He had no need to work any more. He’d sold the house in Rainham for nearly two million quid, and could quite easily manage on the proceeds if he lived to be a hundred. Jimmy smirked as he thought about how clever he’d been about that house. He’d originally bought it in 1978 and, because he was dodgy-dealing at the time, had put the deeds in Johnny Bullock’s name. Johnny Bullock was the closet friend that Jimmy had ever had. They were brought up together as kids and were more like brothers than mates. At the time Johnny had owned an incredibly successful building empire, therefore trust wasn’t an issue. Jimmy had obviously treated Johnny for his massive favour. He’d given him ten grand back in the day and another fifty when he’d sold the gaff in 1995. Johnny had now moved to the Costa Blanca. He’d always been a fucker for the young birds and had recently married a twenty-year-old Spanish tart called Adriana. Johnny’s address was still registered to the authorities as Birmingham and this thought always made Jimmy chuckle because it was another master stroke he’d managed to pull off against Eddie Mitchell. Jimmy rarely thought about Mitchell any more these days. He still wished him dead, but he could no longer be bothered to kill the man himself. Jimmy was fifty-eight now, age had mellowed him to some extent and he just wanted to live the rest of his life in peace. Too many of his family had already lost their lives because of his feud with Mitchell, and Jimmy couldn’t bear the thought of losing any more.

  ‘Three times I’ve just asked you – what you want to drink? Are you OK, pal?’ the young barman asked, waving his hand in front of Jimmy’s weatherworn face.

  Jimmy automatically snapped out of his trance. ‘Yes, mush, I’ll have the same round again. Sorry about that, I was miles away, boy.’

  Ryan Maloney groaned with pleasure as he ran his hands over Georgie O’Hara’s perfect breasts. He knew she was young, very young, but she looked so much older than thirteen and he couldn’t help the way he felt about her. Lunging his tongue inside Georgie’s mouth, Ryan put her hand on the zip of his jeans.

  ‘Wank me off, babe. Please just do it the once,’ he begged.

  Georgie immediately snatched her hand away. She knew the effect she had on Ryan Maloney and she thoroughly enjoyed tantalising him.

  ‘Stop it, Ryan. You know I’m not gonna do it,’ Georgie said, flicking her hair seductively over her naked shoulder.

  ‘But I love you Georgie, you know I wanna marry you when you’re sixteen.’

  Spotting Ryan’s hardness clearly showing through his jeans, Georgie purposely brushed her hand against his penis as she lent on his leg to stand up. ‘Where’s this special birthday present you keep banging on about, then?’ she asked. He’d already given her three presents yesterday, but had held one back for today.

  ‘Touch me cory for ten seconds and you can have it,’ Ryan replied cheekily.

  ‘I’ll touch it for five, but only if you keep it inside your jeans.’

  ‘Deal,’ Ryan replied, grinning.

  Georgie did as she’d promised and smiled as Ryan caught his breath, shut his eyes and shuddered. At fifteen years old, Ryan was the youngest son of Mickey Maloney. Like Georgie, Ryan didn’t go to school, but his arms and legs were full of muscle where he’d always worked for his dad. He only did odd jobs and stuff, but they had given him a physique of a twenty-one-year old. Ryan had short, dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, a cheeky smile and had been the heart-throb of all the travelling girls until about six months ago. It was then that Georgie had sprouted enormous breasts, grown a few inches and had virtually changed from a child into a woman overnight. Ryan had become besotted with her, and they’d been a couple ever since.

  ‘Never give yourself to a mush before he marries you, Georgie. Once men get their wicked way with you they lose interest almost immediately and you don’t want people to think you’re a slag like your mother was, do you now?’ her nan had said in one of her many birds and bees talks.

  Georgie inwardly laughed at her nan’s words of advice. She had been streetwise from a very young age and, apart from letting Ryan Maloney fondle her naked breasts, had no intention of doing anything overly sexual with him until he married her. Ryan’s father was extremely wealthy and Georgie knew full well that once she and Ryan were wed she would live a charmed life and want for nothing.

  Ryan stood up and grinned as he pushed his groin against Georgie. He put his hands on her juicy buttocks and kissed her passionately.

  Georgie touched tongues with Ryan, then immediately pushed him away. ‘Er, present,’ she said stroppily, holding out her right hand.

  ‘Shut your eyes, then,’ Ryan urged her.

  When Georgie did as he asked, Ryan put his hand inside the pocket of his jacket and placed a small, red velvet box in her hand. ‘You can open ’em now,’ he told her.

  Georgie opened the box and squealed with delight as she clocked the ring. It was a round gold band with what looked like diamonds in the centre of it. ‘Give us it ’ere. I wanna put it on for ya,’ Ryan said, placing it on her wedding finger. ‘You know what this ring means, don’t you, Georgie?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’s an eternity ring,’ Ryan told her.

  ‘What’s that mean, then?’ Georgie asked, showing her young innocence for once.

  Ryan lifted up her left hand and gently kissed the ring. ‘Eternity means that me and you are gonna be together for ever.’

  Georgie grinned. She’d captured her man, got a ring to prove it, and couldn’t wait to tell all the other girls on the site. They would be so bloody jealous.

  Alice O’Hara was just dishing up her homemade shepherd’s pie when Jimmy walked through the door, looking slightly worse for wear.

  ‘You must smell me dishing up, Jimmy O’Hara. Nose like an elephant’s trunk you’ve got. Where ya been? I’ve been trying to ring ya all day.’

  ‘Pub,’ Jimmy replied curtly, as he drunkenly sparred up to Harry.

  ‘What pub? You ain’t been to that one with the funny name that’s miles away again, have ya? I wish you wouldn’t drink and drive like that. Say the gavvers catch ya? Can’t you drink somewhere nearer home?’

  ‘I like the Babbity Bowster and I’m fine driving back from there. Anyway, even if the gavvers do catch me, I’ve got me licence in the name of Jones, ain’t I? You worry too much, woman.’

  Alice sighed. Apart from their old friends and fellow travellers, who knew who they were, they introduced themselves by the surname of Jones to anybody else they came into contact with now. You could never be too careful, especially when you were on the bloody run.

  ‘Gotcha, Grandad,’ Harry yelled, as he landed a right hook on Jimmy’s chin.

  ‘That hurt, you little fucker,’ Jimmy chuckled, as he wrestled his grandson to the floor.

  ‘He is a little fucker an’ all. Bought home another dead chicken that he’d nicked off the farmers again today. I wish you’d have a man-to-man chat with him, Jimmy. If he gets caught and the gavvers nick him, it mi
ght blow our cover.’

  ‘Of course it won’t. I’ve told you a thousand times, woman, all our documents are cushti and they’re all in our new name. We ain’t Alice and Jimmy O’Hara no more, we are Alice and Jimmy Jones, so for fuck’s sake stop worrying about it.’

  ‘Your dinner’s getting cold. You gonna stop arsing about and eat it? I don’t slave over a hot stove all day for the fun of it, you know.’

  Jimmy playfully slapped his grandson around the head, sat at the kitchen table and greedily began shoving the food into his mouth. ‘Where’s Georgie girl?’ he asked, showing Alice a large mouthful of shepherd’s pie as he spoke.

  ‘Supposedly went shopping and to the pictures with Josie, but I saw Josie come home with her parents earlier, so I know Georgie’s with that bloody boy again. I wish you’d have a word with Micky Maloney, Jimmy. Ryan might be a nice enough lad, but our Georgie’s too young to be courting a mush of that age. There’s no point me asking silly bollocks to talk to him, ’cause that dinlo’s all for their relationship. He won’t be saying that when she comes home pregnant though, will he?’

  Jimmy roared with laughter. He had every faith in Georgie girl. She might only be young, but she was clever, not stupid. He also liked Ryan Maloney. The boy’s father, Mickey, was cakeo and his granddaughter would never want for anything if she married his son.

  ‘Whatever’s wrong with you today, Alice? Did you get out of the bed the wrong side this morning, my sweet?’

  Harry smirked. He loved winding his nan up by being crude. ‘Georgie knows what she’s doin’, Nan. She says she only lets Ryan touch her titties and she’s not gonna touch his cory until he marries her.’

  Picking up the tea towel, Alice walloped her foul-mouthed grandson straight around the head with it.

  Georgie and Ryan’s love-nest was an old barn that belonged to Ryan’s father. It was where all the groping, kissing and cuddling took place and they’d even put two pillows and an old quilt in there, so they could lie side by side in the warmth if the weather was cold.

  Ryan held Georgie’s hand as they took the short walk back to their respective mobile homes. ‘I’ve got to go to Fife with my dad tomorrow to look at a gry, but I’ll be back late afternoon. I’ll get us some cider and I’ll meet you in the barn about six,’ Ryan said.

  ‘You can ring me again now. I got another phone for my birthday and I got the number written down for you.’

  ‘Thank fuck for that. I hated it when I didn’t know where you were. You’re my woman now, Georgie. That’s what that ring says and don’t you ever forget it.’

  Georgie dragged Ryan round the back of her neighbour’s mobile home and began snogging him again. She put his hands on her breasts and smiled teasingly.

  ‘You’d better stop that or you’ll get me shot,’ Ryan said, as he heard the familiar sound of the Mitsubishi Shogun’s engine pulling in.

  ‘The old man ain’t gonna shoot you. He knows we’re a couple and he likes you. Come and say hello to Shelby with me,’ Georgie said.

  ‘You all right, Georgie girl?’ Lola asked, spotting her stepdaughter appear from the shadows. Lola was only seven years older than Georgie, so they were more like sisters than stepmother and daughter.

  ‘Is Shelby awake?’ Georgie asked hopefully. She loved her little sister dearly.

  ‘No, she’s soundo,’ Lola answered, lowering the sleeping child in her arms to prove it.

  ‘You all right, darling? Been looking after her for me again, have you, Ryan?’

  Ryan grinned. ‘Of course! Your daughter won’t come to no harm while she’s with me, so you’ve got no worries on that score.’

  Bursting with pride, Georgie couldn’t help showing off the ring that Ryan had given her. ‘This was my surprise birthday present from Ryan. It’s an eternity ring. Do you like it, Dad?’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Frankie felt bright and breezy when she arose the following morning. The migraine she’d had the previous day had now cleared and she felt ready to face the world again.

  ‘You look nice. Are you looking forward to seeing Matty?’ Frankie asked her friend as she ventured into the kitchen.

  When Matilda had briefly dabbled with heroin, Babs had been devastated and so disappointed with her, but since her daughter had got herself clean their relationship had got back on track again.

  ‘Yeah, I am. Kelvin’s coming with me and I’m gonna take both of them to Oxford Street. Then later, my mum’s gonna cook us all chicken, rice and peas for dinner. I’m gonna stay at my mum’s tonight. Jordan’s gonna stay at his mate’s house. Will you be OK on your own, Frankie?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’m gonna let Brett have a day off school and Stuart’s gonna take us both for lunch.’

  ‘Is that the same Stuie-wooie who wants to get into those panties of yours?’ Babs asked teasingly.

  ‘No, it’s the same Stuie-wooie that we were meant to go out with yesterday, but couldn’t ’cause I was ill. I only said I’d go today ’cause I felt horrible about letting him down.’

  ‘Pull the other one, it’s got bells on,’ Babs said, laughing.

  At the other end of Great Britain, Georgie O’Hara was sitting in Josie’s trailer and was desperately trying to comfort her friend, who had just been told that her mother’s cancer had returned. Georgie wasn’t very good with situations such as these and as Josie started to cry, she desperately searched for the right words to say to her.

  ‘I know it’s awful, but if your mum did die, you would get over it you know. I ain’t seen my mum since I was four and as far as I know, she could be dead an’ all,’ she said tactlessly.

  ‘Do you ever think about your mum?’ Josie asked, genuinely interested. It was the first time she had ever heard Georgie actually mention her mother.

  ‘Not really, but I still sort of remember her. I sometimes wonder if I look like her or if we’re alike in our ways, but other than that, I don’t think about her much at all.’

  ‘What was she like? What do you remember about her? Was she pretty?’

  ‘I think so. I know she had long dark hair and she used to give me lots of cuddles, but I don’t remember much else. I never talk about her indoors ’cause everybody hates her. My Nan calls her “the old shitcunt” because she tried to murder my dad once.’

  ‘Really?’ Josie asked in amazement.

  ‘Yep, she went to prison and everything,’ Georgie replied.

  ‘Is she still in prison now?’

  Georgie shrugged. ‘Dunno and I don’t really give a shit, to be honest.’

  ‘So, where we going then? Aren’t we just going to Brentwood town centre?’ Frankie asked, as Stuart took a turn in the opposite direction.

  ‘Nope. I thought Brett would get bored there, so we’re goin’ somewhere he’ll like for a change.’

  ‘Where, Stuie? Where?’ Brett asked excitedly.

  ‘Southend, boy.’

  ‘What’s there, then?’ Brett asked, bemused.

  ‘There’s a fairground, amusement arcades and proper fish and chip shops,’ Stuart explained.

  ‘Yes!’ Brett shouted, bouncing up and down excitedly.

  Frankie did not share her son’s enthusiasm. Her last trip to Southend had been with Jed in the early stages of their relationship. They’d gone to a hotel by the seafront and it was there that Frankie had lost her virginity to him.

  ‘Are you OK? You’re all right with Southend, ain’t ya?’ Stuart asked, aware of Frankie’s sudden silence.

  ‘Yeah, course,’ Frankie lied. She stared out of the window as all the memories came flooding back. That was the day Jed had bought an old tape recorder for fifty quid off a girl in the reception. He’d then got his cassettes out of his motor and they’d danced to Tammy Wynette’s ‘Stand By Your Man’ before they’d finally fallen onto the bed and made love for the very first time. Oh, how stupid and naïve I must have been, Frankie thought silently.

  ‘You ain’t ’arf gone quiet, girl. What you thinking about?’ Stuart
asked her a couple of minutes later.

  Determined not to spoil a day out that she knew her son would enjoy, Frankie turned to Stuart and smiled. ‘I’m just thinking how thoughtful and kind you are. You’ll make a lovely husband to some lucky girl one day, you know.’

  Stuart raised his eyebrows. He wanted to tell Frankie that he would like her to be that lucky girl, but as usual, he didn’t have the guts to say anything.

  Eddie Mitchell was relieved as he heard Gina’s car pull up outside. Looking after the kids on his own had done his head in and he now realised just how hard women worked when men were out grafting.

  ‘Mummy!’ Rosie and Aaron screamed excitedly as they ran to greet Gina.

  ‘Why aren’t you at school?’ Gina asked her son.

  ‘Had a sore throat,’ Aaron lied.

  Gina grinned as Eddie put his arms around her. ‘How’s your mum?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine. She’s driving me dad mad again, so she must be on the mend. What about you? Did you cope all right with the kids?’

  ‘Piece of piss. I dunno what yous women moan about,’ Eddie replied untruthfully. Admitting he’d struggled to cope with anything just wasn’t part of Ed’s make-up.

  ‘Your phone’s ringing, babe,’ Gina told him, hearing his familiar ringtone.

  Eddie ran indoors. Raymond and Terry had driven up to Wolverhampton early that morning to check out a gypsy site where Johnny Bullock might be hiding out, and as Eddie saw Raymond’s number flashing up, he hoped the news was good for once. ‘Well?’ he asked expectantly.

  ‘No joy, Ed. There is a Johnny Barrett living there and also a Robbie Bullock, but neither are our man, mate.’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘Positive. We did some snooping around with the locals before we went there and both families come from Liverpool. We then checked the site out and they all have Scouse accents, unlike our man, who supposedly comes from O’Hara’s neck of the woods.’