Their intimate moment was ended by a screaming Joey. Standing at the top of a climbing frame, he was bawling his eyes out.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jessica asked, walking towards him.
Frankie giggled as she took stock of the situation. ‘Joey’s too scared to come down, Mummy,’ she said, as she ran over to her dad.
Knowing her son didn’t like heights, Jessica urged him to hold the metal rail and walk backwards. ‘Just come down the way you went up, Joey,’ she urged him.
‘I can’t, Mummy. I can’t get down,’ Joey sobbed.
Aware that some other children were laughing as him, Jessica had little option but to go up herself and carry Joey back down. ‘It’s all right, Mummy’s here now. Come on, stop crying, there’s a good boy.’
‘Isn’t Joey a crybaby, Daddy?’ Frankie said laughing.
Eddie was embarrassed. There were other parents looking over at him and he was thankful that nobody knew him in this boozer.
Jessica walked towards him with Joey in her arms. ‘I’m gonna take him to the toilet and sort him out. He’s had a little accident. Give us your car keys, Ed, I’ve got a spare set of clothes for him in the boot.’
‘What do you mean accident? Has he hurt himself?’ Eddie asked, bemused.
‘Don’t tell no one, Mummy,’ Joey begged his mother.
‘He’s wet himself,’ Jessica mouthed to Eddie.
Annoyed, Eddie slung her his car keys. His youngest son was a total fucking embarrassment. That Jed might be a little bastard, but at least he was a kid for his father to be proud of. Joey was a total tart and showed himself and his family up wherever he went.
‘I’m going on the swing now, Daddy,’ Frankie said, as she climbed off his knee.
Eddie sipped his beer and watched his daughter swing higher than any of the other kids. At least Frankie had a bit of spirit about her; Joey had fucking none whatsoever. Seeing his wife and son walk towards him, Eddie forced a smile. He couldn’t have a go at Joey or say anything about him, as he’d promised Jessica he wouldn’t.
‘Panic over. What shall we do, Ed? Shall we order some food now? The kids both want burger and chips.’
Eddie stood up. ‘Keep an eye on Frankie. She’s over there with some little boy, he keeps following her around,’ he told Jessica, as he headed to the bar.
The little boy in question was quite taken with Frankie and had been trying to attract her attention for the last ten minutes. ‘My name’s Luke. What’s yours?’ he asked her.
‘Not telling you,’ Frankie shouted at him.
‘Why not? I’ve told you my name,’ Luke said, trying to hold her hand.
Frankie snatched her hand away. Placing her hands on her hips, she scowled at her stalker. ‘Go away and leave me alone.’
As Eddie walked back from the bar, he saw Frankie clump the boy. Putting the drinks on the table, he went over to rescue the poor little sod, who was now sprawled on the ground crying.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he told the boy’s shocked parents.
Eddie lifted his daughter up and carried her back to the table. ‘It’s naughty to punch people. Why did you punch him, Frankie?’
‘Because he wanted to be my boyfriend. I don’t like him, Daddy. I want Jed to be my boyfriend.’
Tilting his daughter’s chin towards him, Eddie stared at her coldly. ‘Listen to me, Frankie, I’m only ever saying this once. If you ever, ever mention Jed’s name again, I’m gonna wash your mouth out with soap and water. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?’
Shocked by her father’s attitude, Frankie felt her eyes fill up with tears. She flung her arms around his neck and sobbed.
‘I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t say Jed any more.’
Wiping her tears away, Eddie smiled at her. ‘You promise me, Frankie?’
Thrilled that her father was no longer angry with her, Frankie smiled at him. ‘Yes, Daddy, I promise.’
SEVENTEEN
Nine years later – 1987
Glancing at his watch, Eddie picked up his bunch of keys. ‘I’m gonna make a move now, love. I’ve gotta go up north today to speak to some arsehole that’s knocked me. I might be really late back, so don’t wait up.’
Jessica brushed a bit of fluff off her husband’s collar and hugged him tightly. ‘Be careful, Eddie. I love you,’ she told him.
As the front door slammed, Jessica resumed her housework duties. Eddie had always tried to convince her to let him hire a cleaner, but she was having none of it. ‘I like doing the housework myself, Ed. Anyway, I don’t want a stranger poking around in my home. Vicki and Doug had to sack their cleaner, she was thieving off of them. We’re OK as we are,’ Jessica insisted.
Happy with the cleanliness of her kitchen, Jessica decided she had done more than enough to earn herself a brew and a biscuit. Dunking the chocolate digestive into her cup, she savoured its flavour and her thoughts returned to her husband. Eddie’s job worried the life out of her sometimes. She knew he was still loan-sharking and even though he’d done very well out it, she wished he could find a profession that was less dangerous.
Over the years, Eddie’s business had grown, but the risks had grown with it. Ronny had been shot and was now confined to a wheelchair. He’d been blasted through the lower back and the doctors had since – unsuccessfully – carried out three operations to try to repair his spine.
The one thing that did please Jessica was that Gary and Ricky were now both working with their father. Twenty-three and twenty-one respectively, Gary and Ricky were into bodybuilding and Jessica worried a lot less knowing that they were with Eddie.
Paulie and Raymond were still in the firm, so there were five of them in all. The accident had made Ronny very miserable and bitter and, according to Eddie, he now spent his days drowning his sorrows in numerous pubs. The last time Jessica had seen Ronny was when she had been to visit him in hospital with Eddie. He had been really nasty towards her and she had run from the ward, crying.
‘Take no notice. He’s one bitter and twisted cunt. He’s always been jealous of our relationship,’ Eddie said soothingly.
Even though Ronny spoke to Eddie like shit, Eddie still included him in the family business and looked after him financially. Ronny still lived with Sharon, and Eddie did all he could for her sake.
Neither Jess nor the twins had a great deal to do with any of Eddie’s family. In Jessica’s heart, she knew what they were and she had never felt particularly comfortable or wanted the twins around them. Eddie wasn’t like his brothers. He was the odd one out, the good guy. Eddie’s family rarely bothered to come to their house in Rainham and that suited Jessica down to the ground. The odd cup of tea and a sandwich around Auntie Joan’s or an occasional meal out with Harry was the only contact she and the kids really had with them now.
‘All right, Mum? What’s for breakfast?’
Snapping out of her daydream, Jessica began fussing around her daughter. ‘Look at your uniform – your skirt’s all dirty. You can’t wear that, Frankie. Go upstairs and change it.’
Frankie tutted and snatched at the dishcloth. Her skirt only had a tiny mark on it and it was easily wiped off.
‘There, done. Now instead of getting on my case, do you think you can make me some breakfast? I’ll have a fry-up, if that’s OK.’
Jessica put the frying pan on and buttered some bread. ‘Go and ask Joey if he wants one, too,’ she ordered Frankie.
With a stomp of her feet and a flick of her hair, Frankie marched out of the kitchen. Jessica sighed and shook her head. The twins were her life, she adored them, but they were fifteen going on fifty. Frankie, in particular, drove her up the wall. She was her father’s daughter all right, she was Eddie to a tee.
People who had never met the twins before always assumed that Frankie was older than Joey. They didn’t even look like twins. Frankie was voluptuous, with dark hair and tanned skin like her father. Joey was as skinny as a beanpole, with blond hair and pale skin like herself. Their perso
nalities were also very different. Frankie was hot-headed and impulsive, while Joey was laid-back and comical.
Frankie had always been Eddie’s favourite out of the two and still was. Both fiery, they argued constantly, but adored one another at the same time. Joey’s relationship with his father was more complex. They had nothing in common whatsoever, and although their conversations tended to be polite, they were also stilted.
‘Joey just wants toast,’ Frankie said, plonking herself down at the kitchen table.
Jessica pricked the sausage to make sure it was done properly, then dished up her daughter’s breakfast.
‘Morning, Mum,’ Joey said, kissing her on the cheek.
‘Toast won’t fill you up. Why don’t you let me make you a nice bacon sandwich?’ Jessica asked him.
Joey sat opposite his sister. ‘Toast is fine, Mum. What you up to today? You off out anywhere nice?’
Jessica smiled. Unlike Frankie, Joey was always so interested in her life. ‘Yes, I am going out. Vicki’s coming round and we’re going clothes shopping together. We’re gonna pop in and have lunch with Nan and Grandad on the way back.’
‘Mum, see if you can get me a pair of bleached jeans with rips in them. Don’t get me rubbish ones though, get a decent make. I’m bursting out of a size eight now, so you’d better get me a ten,’ Frankie told her.
‘OK, darling, I know the ones you mean. What about you, Joey, do you need anything?’
Joey smiled. ‘I could do with some new trainers. Get me Nike, Mum, the ones with the light-blue tick down the side.’
Seeing time was getting on, Jessica urged the kids to finish their breakfast. Living in the lanes meant they needed a lift to and from school and she didn’t want them to be late again. ‘Come on, hurry up. You’ve got your exams soon and you don’t want to fail them,’ Jessica said sternly.
Frankie and Joey smirked at one another as they followed their mum out to the car. Little did she know, neither of them had any intention of spending their day studying for their exams. Joey and Frankie hated school and going through the school gates wasn’t on their agenda.
Driving up the M1, Eddie was deep in thought. Ronny had just rung him, shouting and bawling and, for the second time that week, Ed had bitten his tongue.
No one, including Eddie, knew exactly what had happened to Ronny. Ed had apparently been owed a lot of money by a Scottish geezer called Jake Souness. ‘I’m gonna fucking blow his brains out,’ Ronny had drunkenly bragged one day.
Eddie had told his brother to stay away from Jake. ‘Leave it to me. Souness is no fucking mug – he’s heavy material. I’ll have a word with Dad. He’ll know how to play it,’ Ed warned him.
As silly as arseholes, Ronny had ignored Eddie’s advice and gone to see Jake Souness alone. He had been found half dead two days later and had no recollection of what had actually happened. All he had said was that Jake had poured neat bottles of vodka down his throat, forcing him to drink it. ‘I don’t remember anything after that. My next memory is waking up, being in agony and not being able to walk,’ Ronny said.
Harry Mitchell had come out of retirement to get revenge for his son. He had tortured Jake Souness for three days and, when Jake’s body could take no more, he had chopped his head off while he was still alive.
Eddie had been with his father that day and Jake Souness’s screams would live with him forever.
‘Take the next junction, Ed,’ Raymond said, snapping Ed out of his daydream.
Eddie was heading towards a gypsy camp on the outskirts of Birmingham. Dickie Pearce had taken the right piss out of him. Fifteen grand, Eddie had lent him and the cunt had done a runner with it. Finding Dickie Pearce hadn’t been easy. Eddie would never have lent him the cash in the first place if he had known he had links with the travelling community. Eddie thought Dickie was just your average guy, and he’d been shocked to find out that the piss-taking bastard was, in fact, a plastic pikey.
‘Answer that,’ Eddie ordered Raymond as his phone rang.
‘It’s your dad. Says it’s urgent,’ Raymond told him.
Knowing that he had his shooter in the Land Cruiser with him, Eddie swung into a lay-by. The Vodafone he owned weighed a ton, it was hard to hold while driving and he could do without causing an accident, today of all days.
‘I’m driving. What is it, Dad?’ he asked impatiently.
Listening to what his father had to say, Eddie’s mood lifted like magic. ‘No. When? How?’ he asked joyfully.
As Eddie ended the phone call, he turned around in his seat and smiled at Paulie, Gary and Ricky.
Raymond nudged him. ‘Come on, don’t keep us in suspense. What’s happened?’
‘Dad’s just heard that Butch O’Hara’s brown bread. He ain’t sure how he croaked it, but someone he knows said it was a heart attack. Apparently Jimmy’s gonna set fire to his trailer with the body inside.’
‘Why ain’t they gonna have a proper funeral for him? Didn’t they like him?’ Ricky asked bewildered.
Eddie laughed. ‘They like a bit of DIY, the old pikeys. I think it’s custom for ’em to burn the dead in their own homes. Strange bastards, they are, I’ve always said that.’
Eddie whistled as he continued his journey. Lady Luck hadn’t been very kind to Jimmy over the years, and every time he received yet another kick in the bollocks it pleased Eddie immensely.
Even though they lived near one another, Eddie saw very little of Jimmy. His wife, Alice, had left him years ago. Apparently, she had walked into one of his salvage yards and had caught her beloved Jimmy having his cock sucked by some little dolly bird.
Alice was a typical feisty travelling lass and, by all accounts, had gone mental. Rumour had it, she had gone home and, on Jimmy’s return, she had clumped him over the head with a claw hammer. The following day, Alice had packed her bags, shoved the kids in the car and left him for good.
Eddie was overjoyed by Jimmy’s little mishap and dined out on it for months afterwards.
Jimmy was never the same man after Alice left him. Without his wife and kids by his side, he let his businesses slip, sold his Roller, and became a bit of a recluse.
Eddie grinned as he turned off the M1. Jimmy’s mum had died a couple of years back and, now the old man had popped his clogs, he had no one living on his acres of land bar himself.
Eddie stifled a snigger. At least he had his dogs and horses. Maybe the fucking goat was still alive and that could keep poor Jimmy company on his big piece of land.
Frankie put her last fifty pence into the fruit machine. ‘Poxy thing,’ she said, kicking the base of it.
Joey laughed as she walked towards the table. ‘Why do you waste your money on those things? I’ve told you before, gambling’s for mugs,’ he said as she sat down.
Spending their days in the café in Dagenham with a group of their friends was a regular pastime for Frankie and Joey. The café was owned by the sister of one of their best mates and she always allowed them to hang out there. Sometimes they went to school, but most days they couldn’t face it. They would wave to their mum as she dropped them off and as soon as she drove away, they would cross the road and catch the bus to Dagenham.
Neither Joey nor Frankie were fans of their school uniform, so they always carried a spare set of clothes with them. They would get changed upstairs on the bus, then would change back into their school uniform on the return journey.
Neither of their parents were aware of what they got up to. Both the twins smoked and drank and sometimes they would stand on the corner totally wasted, waiting for their mum to pick them up. They were always careful, though, and only stuck to vodka, as it had no smell. Their mum would go apeshit if she knew, and their dad would probably rip their heads off.
Writing sick notes had become second nature to both of them. Joey wrote Frankie’s, copying his mum’s handwriting, and Frankie returned the favour for Joey, copying her dad’s.
‘What’s the time?’ Frankie asked her brother.
&
nbsp; ‘Half-one,’ Joey replied.
‘I’m bored sitting here. Let’s go to the park and drink our vodka, eh?’
Joey shrugged and turned to their friends. All of them were partial to a tipple, but Frankie was an absolute nightmare. Joey stood up and urged the others to do the same.
‘Come on, Alkie Annie wants her daily fix,’ he joked.
Laughing, the six good mates left the café together.
Stanley smiled as his daughter tucked into her ham-salad sandwich. She was a breath of fresh air, his Jessica, and even now, at thirty-three, she was still as beautiful as ever.
‘So, how are your pigeons, Stanley? Are you still racing them?’ Vicki enquired.
Stanley loved nothing more than discussing his birds and launched into a full account of their day-to-day activities. He liked Jessica’s friend and was pleased that his daughter had someone local to turn to if she ever needed her help.
Stanley still didn’t like or trust Eddie. His son, Raymond, had turned into a clone of the man and he was extremely bitter about it. Stanley had little option but to play happy families. He loved his daughter and grandchildren so, all in all, Eddie had him by the bollocks.
When Jessica had left Eddie that time, Stanley had stuck to his guns. He hadn’t spoken to Eddie for nine months, nor visited the house. He had eventually given in. He had missed Jess and the twins terribly and Joyce’s constant moaning had forced him to change his mind. Since then, a happy medium had been met. He was polite to Eddie for the sake of his family, though inwardly he still hated him.
‘We’re gonna have to go now. I’ve gotta pick the kids up in an hour,’ Jessica informed her parents.
Joyce stood up and cuddled her daughter. ‘So will we see you before Christmas?’
‘Of course, it’s weeks away,’ Jessica said smiling. ‘I’ll pop over next week. You and Dad will stay for a few days at Christmas, won’t you? If you come over Christmas Eve in the afternoon, you can go home the day after Boxing Day.’
The Feud Page 16