Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd The News Building 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Preface Publishing 2010

Published by Arrow Books 2013

This edition published by Harper 2017

Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2010

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017 Cover photographs © Mohamad Itani/Arcangel Images (woman): Shutterstock.com (background).

Kimberley Chambers asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9781409050308

Ebook Edition © Jan 2017 ISBN: 9780008228668

Version: 2020-01-23

My daddy told me I never should

Play with the gypsies in the wood

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Kimberley Chambers

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE
Summer 1970

AS EDDIE MITCHELL ran his fingers along the side of the baseball bat, he could feel the beads of sweat forming along his forehead. It was one of those muggy days, where flying ants appeared. It was far too hot to be suited and booted and stuck in the back of a Transit van.

Eddie listened intently as his father repeated his instructions. ‘We don’t want an all-out war, so nothing too heavy, boys. This is a little warning for ’em, and if they don’t get the message, then heavy’ll come later.’

As the rest of the family discussed the feud, Eddie sat in silence. In his eyes, the O’Haras had taken a fucking liberty and deserved more than a little warning. For as long as Ed could remember, his dad, Harry, had run the pub protection racket in the East End. No one messed with the Mitchells, no one dared, and then, like an unwanted disease, the O’Haras appeared on the scene and tried to muscle in on their patch. Eddie was the youngest member of the family firm. His dad ran the show, along with his uncle Reg. Then there were Paulie and Ronny, his two elder brothers.

‘You OK, son?’

Smiling with anticipation, Eddie nodded at his father. The O’Haras were a travelling family who had recently moved to the East End from Cambridgeshire. Eddie hated travellers. In his eyes, they were uncouth, lowlife, inbred scum. In particular, he hated Jimmy O’Hara. He was the strongest of the sons, the loudest, and flash didn’t even begin to describe him.

‘I wanna be the one to take out Jimmy, Dad.’

Harry eyed his son proudly. Even from an early age, Eddie was the one full of promise, and Harry knew without a doubt that one day his youngest child would be head of the family business.

As the Transit van pulled up outside the pub, the Mitchells clutched their weapons.

‘Right, let’s do it,’ Harry said as he sprang from the van.

Barging his brothers and uncle out of the way, Ed followed his father into the boozer. ‘See you? You’re dead, you piss-taking pikey cunt,’ he screamed as he spotted Jimmy O’Hara and lunged towards him.

As the pub erupted into full-scale mayhem, Eddie was grabbed around the neck from behind.

‘Do him, Jimmy, fucking do him!’ he heard a voice shout.

As the knife slid down the left-hand side of his face, Eddie felt anger, not pain. With blood spewing from his face, he went for O’Hara like a rabid Rottweiler.

‘You inbred pikey piece of shit!’ he screamed, as he threw off the geezer behind him and repeatedly thrust the baseball bat against Jimmy O’Hara’s head.

In that moment, Eddie completely lost it, and if his family hadn’t dragged him away, Ed swore he would have committed murder.

Harry, Reg, Paulie and Ronny managed to clump and scare the rest of the O’Haras and, aware that Eddie’s face was almost sliced in two, they quickly bundled him into the back of the Transit van.

‘Let me go back. I’ll kill him, I’ll fucking kill him!’ Eddie screamed.

‘Your face is fucked. We need to get you stitched up, son,’ Harry said seriously.

Ed was seething as he held the side of his face together. He was covered in claret from head to toe. The wound was so deep, it had even soaked through his suit.

Aware that his mouth was full of blood, Ed spat a mouthful onto the floor. As he turned to his father, his expression blackened.

‘I’ll get me own back, Dad, if it’s the last thing I do. Even if the O’Haras lay off our turf, this feud ain’t over. It will never be over between me and Jimmy, not now – not ever.’

ONE
1971

JOYCE SMITH SMILED as she carefully lifted her best dinner service out of the box. She rarely used her expensive china, but today was a very special occasion and she was desperate to impress.

As Joyce entered the living room, her smile immediately turned to a frown. That lazy husband of hers was still glued to that filthy, stinking armchair of his. ‘Stanley, get your arse up them stairs and get yourself ready. You haven’t even washed or shaved yet and they’ll be here soon.’

More interested in the 3.45 at Kempton, Stanley leaped up and down. ‘Go on my son, get in there. Go on my son, you can do it!’

As his horse got pipped at the post, Stanley threw the Sporting Life up in the air in temper. ‘Stupid, bastard nag!’ he shouted.

Annoyed that her husband was ignoring her orders, Joyce picked up her broom and clumped him on the head with it. Why he betted, she’d never know. He always bloody lost. ‘I won’t tell you again, Stanley. Now get up them bleedin’ stairs and smarten yourself up.’

Stanley knew better than to argue with his wife. She wore the trousers, and he just complied with her orders.

‘Your nice blue shirt and best slacks are hanging on the wardrobe door; put them on,’ Joyce ordered.

‘Anyone would think the Queen Mother was coming for tea,’ Stan replied, as he ran up the stairs.

Picking up the duster and polish, Joyce did her best to tidy his dirty little corner. She had a quick vac round then, to finish, sprayed a whole can of air freshener around the house. That’s better, she thought as she studied her domain.

Joyce was very proud of her three-bedroomed council house. It was situated in a road off Upney Lane, but she always told people that she lived in the upper-class part of Barking. Obviously, she would have liked to have bought a private property in a better area, but on Stan’s bus driver’s wages, that was never going to happen.

A proper little homemaker, Joyce was always buying new ornaments and furniture to tart up her surroundings. Her neighbours all said that she had the poshest house in the street and Joyce loved the compliment. Being known as the posh woman suited her down to the ground.

Stanley mumbled and cursed to himself as he shaved and got changed. Not only was he annoyed with the jockey and nag that had just lost him money, he was also annoyed with his daughter, Jessica, for messing up his usual plans.

Apart from the one in four Saturdays when he had to work, Stanley loved these afternoons. They were like his day out of prison, when he’d escape Joycie’s moaning and spend the whole day in the pub or the bookie’s with his pals. Today, he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. His daughter, Jessica, was bringing this new boyfriend of hers around for tea and Joyce had insisted he stay indoors and play happy families.

Like most dads, Stanley was quite protective of his only daughter. Jessica was only seventeen and still lived at home with them. Petite and blonde, Jessica was a very pretty girl with a sunny nature. She’d had boyfriends in the past, but there’d been nothing serious until this latest one.

His son, Raymond, was forever bringing different girls home, but Stan wasn’t worried about what he got up to. With Jess it was different. He knew what it was like to be a hormonal young man and he would hate anyone taking advantage of his little girl.

Stan checked his appearance in the mirror. From what Joyce had said, this new boyfriend sounded like a right Flash Harry. Call it father’s intuition, Stanley just knew he wasn’t going to like him very much.

Joyce stared out of the window as she plumped up the cushions. They should be here any minute and she couldn’t wait to meet this Eddie. For the first time in her young life, Jessica had fallen hook, line and sinker and Joyce was ever so pleased for her. Joyce’s own life had always lacked excitement and romance, and she wanted her daughter to have everything she hadn’t. Sometimes she wondered why she’d even married Stan and then she remembered her mother’s harsh words: ‘You’re twenty-two now, Joycie. Look at all your mates, every one of them married. Even that fat Doreen from across the road has found herself a husband. Young Stanley’s from ever such good stock. I know all of his family, even his aunts and uncles. You don’t wanna be left on the shelf, do you now?’

‘But I don’t think I love him, Mum,’ Joyce complained.

‘Well, it’s up to you, Joycie. I wasn’t in love with your father when I married him, but we made the most of it. Love comes later, dear. Take my advice and marry Stanley. If you say no and leave it any longer, at your age there’ll be little else to choose from.’

Six months after that little chat, Joyce reluctantly agreed to marry Stanley. Jessica arrived a year later, closely followed by Raymond. Love between her and Stan had never really blossomed, but Joyce threw herself into the children and in her own way was happy with her little lot. Romeo and Juliet, she and Stan most certainly weren’t, but they jogged along quite nicely, especially since he’d stopped wanting sex.

Joyce loved reading and what was lacking in her love life she found in the pages of Mills & Boon novels. Now she hoped that Jessica and her new beau would fill a void in her life and inject some much-needed romance.

Seeing her clean-shaven husband walk towards her, Joyce smiled at him. ‘That’s better! What a difference to see you in a nice shirt and slacks. See Stanley, you do scrub up well when you try.’

Stan tutted and flopped in his armchair. ‘Scrub up well! I feel like a bleedin’ pox doctor’s clerk,’ he moaned.

Joyce shooed him out of his chair. ‘They’re due in five minutes. Stand up, or you’ll crease your shirt.’

Stan jumped up as though he had a firework up his arse. He wasn’t the bravest man in the world and over the years he’d realised that it was easier to comply with Joycie’s orders than to argue with her.

‘Where’s Raymond?’ he asked.

Twitching the curtain, Joyce explained. ‘Gone round his mate’s. I told him not to come back until later. He’s been a cheeky little sod lately and, as for that racket he keeps playing upstairs, I didn’t want him to give a bad impression of us in front of Eddie. Quick, here they are, this is them. I’ll answer the door, you go and get some beers out the shed to offer Eddie. Now, Stanley. Quick, chop-chop.’

As they approached the house, Jessica squeezed Eddie’s big hand. Clocking Ginny and Linda staring at her from the house across the road, she waved proudly. Jessica couldn’t stop grinning. To say Eddie was a looker was an understatement. The expression tall, dark and handsome could have been created just for him. She was dying for her parents to meet him, especially her mum. The only worry she had was the age gap between them. Eddie was thirty but she had told her dad he was only twenty-five. Her mum knew the truth and once her dad got to know Eddie and like him, she would tell him the truth as well.

‘This is it, number eleven. Now, remember what I told you about my dad. He still thinks of me as his little baby, so if he’s not overly friendly, please don’t take it personally.’

Eddie kissed her on the nose. ‘You worry too much, Jess. I’ll have a chat with your old man, just leave him to me.’

Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Joyce flung open the front door.

‘Ed, this is my mum. Mum, this is Eddie,’ Jessica said, beaming.

Eddie shook Joyce’s hand and politely kissed her on both cheeks. ‘It’s a delight to meet you, Mrs Smith. Your Jessica’s told me so much about you.’

Joyce giggled. ‘All good, I hope?’

‘Most definitely,’ Eddie said, winking.

Joyce led them into the living room. ‘We’ll have a nice cup of tea, Jess, and let the men have a beer,’ she said.

Jessica smiled as she noticed her mother had got the expensive china out. ‘Where’s Dad?’ she asked.

Joyce offered Eddie a sandwich. ‘Gone down to the shed to get some beers. Speak of the devil – here he is now.’

Eddie put his sandwich down and stood up as Stan entered the room. ‘Dad, this is Eddie who I’ve been telling you about,’ Jessica said nervously.

At five feet eight inches tall, Stanley felt inadequate as he shook Eddie’s strong hand. He thought of the jockey who had lost him the race earlier and, for some reason, felt like his twin brother.

‘Would you like a piece of homemade fruit cake, Eddie?’ his wife asked.

Stan flopped into his armchair and studied the object of his daughter’s affection. He’d been right all along. He didn’t like the look of him one little bit. Jessica had told him that Eddie was twenty-five, but the bastard looked old enough to be her dad. He was broad-shouldered, with dark hair and was wearing tailored grey trousers with a long black Crombie coat. As he turned his head, Stan noticed the massive scar that ran from the outside of his left eye to the corner of his mouth. Stan knocked back his bottle of Double Diamond and opened another. Eddie looked an out-and-out villain. He certainly wasn’t the sort of chap he envisaged or wanted his beautiful daughter going out with.

As the conversation flowed, Stan could tell that Mr Fucking Charming Bollocks had Joycie eating out of his hand.

‘That fruit cake was amazing, Mrs Smith. So much better than the cakes I’m used to,’ the smarmy bastard said.

‘You’re ever so quiet, Dad. Are you OK?’ Jessica asked, as she handed him and Eddie another beer.

Knowing that he was expected to join in the conversation, Stanley cleared his throat. ‘Jessica said that she met you at a local party. Do you come from round here, Eddie?’

‘No. My family are out of Canning Town and I live up that way. I share a flat with me brother, Ronny. It’s nothing special, we live above a pet shop along the Barking Road.’

Stanley carried on prying. ‘And what do you do for a living? If you don’t mind me asking?’

Eddie smiled. The old boy didn’t like him, he could sense it a mile off. ‘My dad owns a load of salvage yards. He’s retired now, so me and my brothers run them for him.’

Stanley felt fear wash over him. Canning Town? Salvage yards? Surely he wasn’t one of the Mitchell boys – please God, no.

Dreading the answer, it took Stan a while to pluck up the courage to ask the all-important question. ‘Before I met Joycie, I used to live in Canning Town myself. I remember a lot of the old school. What’s your father’s name?’

Eddie smirked. ‘Harry Mitchell. You probably know him, most people do.’

Stanley took a large gulp of his drink and started to choke. Unable to breathe properly, he fell off the chair and onto all fours.

Aware of her husband going redder and redder in the face, Joyce stood up and repeatedly thumped him on the back. Embarrassed that he’d made a show of her in front of Eddie, she tried to make a joke of it. ‘He spends so much time watching them bleedin’ horses on telly, he’s started to behave like one now. Giddy up, giddy up,’ she said, laughing.

Feeling as though he was about to have a heart attack, Stan managed to heave himself up and stand on two feet. ‘Went down the wrong hole,’ he gasped, as he legged it from the room.

Joyce smiled at Eddie. ‘You’ll have to excuse my Stanley. He’s not used to having visitors, but he’s a good man deep down, and once you get to know him, I’m sure you’ll like him.’

Eddie grinned. He doubted that very much. ‘I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire, Mrs Smith. Now, is there any chance of having another piece of that wonderful fruit cake?’

Joyce beamed as she handed him a slice. What a charming chap, she thought.

Stanley sat in the shed and tried his best to compose himself. Canning Town had a notorious reputation for producing villainous families and they didn’t come much worse than the Mitchells. Bootlegging, pub protection, illegal boxing. Rumour had it that over the years the bastards had had a finger in every pie going.

Stanley remembered Harry Mitchell as though it were yesterday. He’d been standing in a pub in East Ham having a drink with Roger Dodds, his old school pal. All of a sudden the door had burst open and the pub had fallen silent. A man in a suit and trilby hat walked towards them.

‘Which one of you is Roger Dodds?’ he’d asked menacingly.

Crapping himself, Stan had nodded towards his friend. Seconds later, Roger Dodds had his face slashed and his right eye taken out with a broken bottle.

The man in the trilby hat had then ordered a Scotch, downed it in one, apologised for any inconvenience and casually strolled out of the pub.

That man in the trilby was Harry Mitchell. Apparently, Dodds’s father had fucked him over for a load of money and that was payback time.

Deep in thought, Stanley didn’t hear the shed door creak open. It was Eddie. Stanley leaped up. ‘What’s going on? What do you want?’ he asked nervously.

Eddie stared at him. ‘Calm down, you’ll give yourself a cardiac. The girls were worried about you. They said you’d be in the shed, so I thought I’d check you were OK.’

Stan nodded. ‘I’m fine now. It took me a while to catch me breath, so I came out here for a sit down.’

Desperate for some fresh air, Stanley led Eddie away from the shed. He locked the door, then was horrified as he felt a massive arm go round his shoulder.

Eddie smiled. He could almost smell the old man’s fright. ‘Actually, I wanted to have a quiet word with you, man to man, like.’

Stan looked at him in horror. He’d only been dating Jessica for a month; surely he wasn’t going to ask his permission to marry her.

Eddie stood in front of him and looked him straight in the eye. ‘The thing is, Mr Smith, I think you should know that I’m really serious about your Jessica, so I wanna get a few things straight. I’m not twenty-five like Jess told you, I’m actually thirty years old. I’ve also been married in the past and I’ve got two little boys, Gary and Ricky, who I dote on. Obviously, they don’t live with me – they live with my ex-wife, Beverley. I’ve been straight with Jess from the start and I think it’s only right I do the same with you. As I said, things are moving pretty quickly between me and your Jess, so I just wanna know that you approve of our relationship.’

Dumbstruck, Stanley stood with his mouth open and was horrified as a fly flew in and hit the back of his throat. Half choking, he spat it out and ended up on his knees for the second time that day.

Eddie helped him up. ‘So, are you OK about me and Jess?’ he asked again.

Stanley nodded. ‘No problem, Eddie, and thanks for telling me,’ he mumbled.

‘There you are,’ Joyce said, as Stanley returned, ashen-faced.

The polite conversation carried on for another hour or so and was only stopped by Eddie giving Jessica a secret nudge. Jessica looked at her watch and stood up. ‘God, is that the time! Mum, Dad, we best be going now. Eddie is taking me to the pictures tonight. We’re going to see that new film, Love Story. All the girls at work reckon it’s brilliant. I’ve been dying to see it and we don’t want to miss the start.’

Eddie stood up and put his arm around his young girlfriend’s shoulders. ‘Mrs Smith, Mr Smith, thank you so much for your hospitality. It’s been a pleasure to meet you both. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your Jessica and I promise to have her home by a reasonable hour.’

Overcome by the romance of it all, Joyce stood at the door waving them off. ‘No snogging in the back row,’ she giggled.

‘Stop it, Mum,’ Jessica said embarrassed.

Joyce shut the front door and sighed a happy sigh. What an attractive, polite chap. He was like one of them Mills & Boon men, sophisticated and handsome. Thrilled for her daughter, Joyce decided to have a G&T to celebrate.

‘Well, what did you think?’ she asked Stanley, as she sat back down.

Stanley said nothing. He was too frightened to voice his opinions, in case Joyce told Jessica and it got back to Eddie.

Joyce kicked off her shoes and put her slippers on. ‘Did you see his shoes? He’s definitely worth money. Look, I know it’s hard for you, Stan, but Jess isn’t a little baby any more. Most of my friends were married at her age. I want her to have the best in life and that Eddie’s got class stamped all over him. He’s got lovely manners and he’ll take good care of her, I know he will.’

Stanley cracked open another beer. He’d had the day from hell and all he wanted to do now was watch Ironside. ‘Do you mind if I watch the telly now? And if you’re gonna keep on about it, no, I wasn’t overkeen. In my opinion, Eddie’s far too old for our Jess, and, no, I didn’t notice his bloody shoes.’

Joyce laughed. ‘I knew you had a hangup about him. I know he’s a bit older than her, but you’re such an old fuddy-duddy. I bet if she’d have brought Prince Charles home, you’d have found fault with him. You just won’t let go of her, will you, Stan?’

For the next hour, Joyce wouldn’t shut up. It was Eddie this and Eddie that.

Unusually for Stanley, he completely lost his rag. ‘For Christ’s sake, Joycie, I’m no man’s fool. The bloke’s a wrong ’un and I know it. He’s thirty years old, a divorcee with two bloody kids. As for them going to the pictures, I don’t believe a word of it. Jessica’s probably round his flat as we speak with her knickers around her ankles. They’re probably right in the middle of creating more kids for the smarmy, villainous bastard.’

Furious, Joyce stood up and hit him with the broom. ‘How dare you talk about our daughter like that? She’s got morals, our Jessica. What are you, some bloody pervert?’

Seething, Stanley jumped out of his chair. He rarely gave an opinion in this house and when he did he got called a bloody nonce. More than anything else in the world, he wanted to pick up Joycie’s broom and smash her right over the head with it. Maybe that would make the stupid, naive woman see sense. Filled with self-loathing, Stanley ran to the serenity of his shed. Once inside, he sat on his wooden bench, put his head in his hands and cried.

His old mum had mapped out his life for him at a very early age. ‘Stanley, always remember son, it’s better to be a live coward than a dead hero.’

Stanley wiped his eyes with his hanky. He feared for his Jessica. That Eddie was cold and calculating. He had those horrible dark eyes, dead man’s eyes. There was sod all he could do about it though. He was far too weak a man. What the Mitchells wanted, the Mitchells got, and who was he to stop them?

TWO

BACK AT EDDIE’S flat, Jessica fumbled with the zip of her boyfriend’s trousers. Realising she still had her knickers around her ankles, she quickly stepped out of them.

Eddie threw her onto the double bed. He expertly entered her and held both of her hands down with his own. He liked it that way; it gave him total control.

‘Aw, baby,’ he moaned as he shot his seed and pulled himself out of her. Not wanting to be selfish, Eddie used his index finger to pleasure her.

‘Oh Eddie,’ Jessica cried, as she reached her climax.

Confident that she was satisfied, Eddie rolled onto his back and lit up two cigarettes. Handing one to Jess, he grinned. He’d been told in the past by birds that he had bigger fingers than most men’s cocks, and he certainly knew how to use them.

‘Did you enjoy that, babe?’ he asked, as he studied the smoke rings he was blowing.

Jessica propped herself up on one elbow. She loved taking in his naked body and his handsome face. ‘I always enjoy it, Eddie, you know I do.’

Eddie put his arm around her and kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘So what do you reckon your parents thought of me?’ he asked.

Jessica laid her head on his chest. ‘Mum loved you. She thought you were great. Dad’s more old-fashioned, but I’m sure he liked you in his own way.’

Eddie smirked at her take on things. The mother he’d had eating out of his hand, but the old man, he knew, had hated him on sight. Gently easing Jessica off him, Eddie jumped out of bed.

‘I’m gonna have a quick bath and then I’ll take you out for a drink.’

‘OK. Save me some hot water so I can freshen up, too.’

Jessica smiled as she watched his muscly long legs and gorgeous naked buttocks walk away from her. She’d only met him four weeks ago at a mate’s birthday party. Their eyes had locked and that was it, they’d been inseparable ever since. Jessica couldn’t believe her luck. Eddie was rich, handsome and an absolute bloody catch. She’d had boyfriends in the past, even had sex with a couple, but none of them compared to him. Eddie oozed charisma. He treated her like a lady, so much so that he insisted on paying for absolutely everything and picking her up every day from the shoe shop where she worked.

‘No girl of mine is putting their hand in their purse or getting on buses,’ he told her bluntly.

Her workmates were filled with envy. None of their boyfriends even had a car, and when Ed had first pulled up in his gold Mercedes 250C, their jaws had hit the floor.

‘Jess, he’s gorgeous – and look at his posh car. You are so lucky,’ they’d crowed.

Jess giggled to herself. Ed had a big personality, a bulging wallet and a massive willy. No woman could want more and she was a very lucky girl indeed.

Jess thought about her mum’s life. She’d hate to be married to a bus driver and live in the same council house for years like her mum. Her mother didn’t want that either. She was forever giving her good advice. ‘Jess, with your figure and stunning looks, you can get anyone you want. Don’t make the same mistakes as I did and end up with someone like your father. If a good catch comes along, take my advice and grab him with both hands.’

Jessica was aware of how attractive she was. She had long, blonde ringlets, a cute, pointed chin, an amazingly slim figure and men went crazy for her dimpled cheeks.

‘The bathroom’s all yours, sexy,’ Ed said, walking towards her.

As Jessica walked past him, Eddie stared at her fantastic tits. When he was married to Bev, he’d played around with other birds. Meeting Jess had knocked him for six. She was a major piece of eye candy, had a terrific personality and, since they’d got together, he hadn’t so much as glanced at another piece of skirt.

Eddie did up the top button of his shirt. As he secured his tie, he thought about the sex they’d had earlier. He hadn’t used a rubber today, he’d forgotten to buy any and it didn’t bother him at all. In Jess, Ed was sure he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and the quicker he put her in the club and stuck a ring on her finger, the better.

Eddie looked up as his brother, Ronny, slammed the front door.

‘Am I glad to see you.’

‘What’s up? Can’t you spend a day without me?’ Ed asked sarcastically.

Ronny walked towards him. ‘Don’t muck about, this is serious, Ed. The O’Haras are in the Flag. They’re mob-handed and we’re gonna need backup if we’re gonna sort it. They looked like they were about to smash the pub up. I think they’re trying to muscle in on our patch.’

Eddie’s features blackened. He’d never laid eyes on any of the O’Haras since last year when his face had got slashed to fuck. He’d caved Jimmy’s head in with a baseball bat that day, and the families had avoided one another ever since.

Ed had ended up with forty-seven stitches in his face, but Jimmy had come off worse. He’d spent over a month in hospital, and had to have numerous scans and tests to rule out brain damage.

The feud between the two families had been halted since then. Ed’s dad, Harry, had arranged a meet with Jimmy’s old man, Butch.

Harry had said, ‘Look, we’re all trying to earn a few bob here and no one needs all this extra aggravation. I’ll do you a deal. You stick on your patch and do what you’ve gotta do and we’ll stay on ours. If you agree to the deal, we’ll let bygones be bygones. If you don’t, and I find out your boys have stepped one foot in any of our boozers, I promise you there’ll be a fucking bloodbath,’ Harry had said.

Butch shook hands on it. ‘You have my word, you’ll have no more trouble from me or my lads,’ he promised.

As Jessica walked towards him in a white halter-neck catsuit, Eddie kicked Ronny to urge him to keep schtum.

‘You look gorgeous, darling.’

Jessica smiled. Any new clothes she bought now she kept round Eddie’s. She had to look the part for her new man.

Ronny was pissed off. What was more important, family business or fucking birds?

‘Where are we going?’ Jessica asked excitedly.

Eddie decided to give Canning Town a wide berth. He didn’t want Jess to see the other side of him. He was a lunatic when he got going and he knew if he came face to face with Jimmy O’Hara, he’d throw him straight through the pub window.

‘I thought we’d go to East Ham for a change. A bloke in the Burnell Arms owes me some dough and needs a little reminder. If it’s any good, we’ll stay there; if it’s shit, I’ll take you out for a nice meal instead.’

Jessica nodded happily. As long as she was by Eddie’s side, she didn’t care where she went.

Eddie handed her his keys. ‘Go and sit in the car, babe. I just need to have a quick chat with Ronny. It’s business, you’ll only be bored.’

‘Bye, Ronny,’ Jessica said as she left the flat. That was one of the things she loved about Eddie. She knew he was a bit dodgy and she found his little business chats and his life in general bloody exciting.

Eddie made sure she was out of earshot, then turned to his brother. ‘Don’t ever say too much about what we get up to in front of Jess, will yer?’

Ronny shook his head. ‘Fuckin’ hell, Ed. You can’t put birds in front of family business. You always used to put your family first when you were married to Bev.’

Eddie stood his ground. Ronny wasn’t as good-looking as him, and his bird, Sharon, was a big old heifer.

‘Look, Ron, family comes first and you know it does, but there’s no point in storming in the Flag tonight. We don’t know where Paulie is, for a start. Listen, the O’Haras will be well pissed up by now. If you were in there, they’ll definitely be expecting a visit from us. They’re probably staring at the door as we speak. Our best bet is to leave it a week or two. Let them think they’ve got away with it, and when they’re least expecting it, we’ll pounce on ’em.’

Ronny shrugged. Maybe he should go and find his other brother, Paulie. He’d round up a few faces and maybe they could sort it without Eddie.

Eddie read his mind. ‘Don’t start organising things behind my back, Ron. I’ll speak to Paulie tomorrow. We’ll sit down properly, put our heads together and hatch a plan.’

Ronny nodded. He knew deep down that Eddie was talking sense, but he was still annoyed. Both he and Paulie were older than Ed, but they never got to call the shots. Even his old man put Eddie before them. It was as though they were the lackeys and Eddie was being primed as his father’s successor.

Ronny let out a loud sigh. ‘Look, Ed, I like Jessica and that, but is she gonna be hanging round here all the time?’

Eddie smirked. He knew Ronny was fucking jealous. ‘Yes, Ron. For your information, Jessica’s here for the foreseeable future.’

Eddie slammed the front door as he left the flat. When he’d split up with Bev, he couldn’t be arsed buying a place of his own, so he’d moved in with Ronny. He hadn’t minded sharing with him, they’d got along OK, but since he’d met Jess, he could sense things were getting a bit awkward.

He opened the car door. ‘Sorry about that, darling.’

Jessica kissed him on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry about me. I know your business is important – you do what you have to do.’

As he drove towards East Ham, one part of Eddie’s mind was focused on Jessica and the other on business. The O’Haras had taken a bloody liberty. The British Flag, better known to locals as the Flag, belonged to the Mitchells. It was their headquarters, where they’d meet and discuss work matters. The O’Haras used the Chobham Arms in Stratford, and Eddie wouldn’t dream of taking the piss in their pub. Whatever happened, they had to be taught a lesson. He’d speak to his dad tomorrow, see what he had to say.

Eddie pictured Jimmy O’Hara’s ugly face. Word had it that since their little fall-out, O’Hara’s finances had gone from strength to strength. Jimmy was the middle son. He was only thirty-two, and owned salvage yards out in Essex. Ed hated the cunt with a passion. Jimmy thought he ruled the world and the silly big prick even had the cheek to call himself King of the Gypsies.

‘What do you think of them, Ed? Do you like them?’

Realising that he hadn’t listened to a word Jessica had said, Eddie apologised. ‘Sorry, babe, I had a police car up me arse and I was concentrating on that. Do I like who?’

Jessica laughed. ‘T. Rex. My brother Ray is obsessed with them. He spends hours in his bedroom playing their records and he’s even started wearing eyeliner like the singer, Marc Bolan. He’s in a band himself, with three of his mates. Ray plays the drums and they’ve done a couple of gigs locally. I went to see them play one night and I was shocked – they were actually quite good.’

Eddie shrugged. He’d never had much experience with blokes who wore make-up. ‘You sure your brother ain’t an iron?’

Jessica couldn’t stop laughing. ‘You must be joking. He’s a right lad and he’s got a different girl on his arm every week. Raymond’s one of life’s go-getters. He’ll make it big somehow, I just know he will.’

Eddie pulled up outside the pub. ‘How old did you say he was?’

‘Sixteen. He leaves school this year and my dad wants him to learn a proper trade. Raymond’s having none of it, says he wants to be a rock star and he’s not interested in doing nothing else.’

Eddie got out of the car and opened the passenger door for Jessica. ‘Don’t worry about your brother, he’s bound to grow out of it. Now, what is madam drinking tonight?’

As Jessica followed Eddie into the pub, she noticed how all heads turned their way. She clocked the whispers and loved the way people fell over themselves to acknowledge and be acknowledged by her handsome man.

‘I think I’ll have a glass of wine,’ she said happily.

‘Eddie! Long time no see. Christ, you’re looking well. What a lovely surprise to see you. Now, what would you and your beautiful lady like to drink?’

Eddie introduced Jessica to the guv’nor of the pub and left her chatting to him while he sorted out the money he was owed. ‘Won’t be a sec, babe. Just going to see a man about a dog,’ he said, winking at her.

Minutes later he returned with a big grin on his face.

Jessica nudged him, ‘Did you get your money?’ she whispered.

‘Plus interest,’ Eddie said laughing.

The Burnell Arms had a band playing and Jessica was happy to stay there. Ever since she’d met Ed, she’d gone off her food, so she didn’t fancy a meal. The evening flowed nicely and Jess had a wonderful time. At half-eleven, Eddie turned to her.

‘I think I should be getting you home now.’

‘Oh, I don’t want to go yet. Can’t I stay at yours tonight?’ Jessica asked.

Eddie shook his head. ‘I promised your mum and dad that I’d have you home at a reasonable time. I know you often stay at mine, Jess, but that’s when they think you’re staying at your mate’s. If you stay tonight, they’ll know we’re at it and I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about me.’

Ed thanked the guv’nor, said his goodbyes and led Jess from the pub. She only lived a short distance away and as he pulled up near her house, he noticed her look of disappointment. Pulling her towards him, he kissed her softly.

‘I’d love to wake up with you tomorrow, more than anything else in the world, but we need to do things properly. I know I haven’t said this to you yet, but I’m gonna say it now. I love you, Jessica Smith, and that’s why I want you to go home tonight. If we’re gonna have a future together, we need your parents to be on our side.’

Jessica looked at him with moo-cow eyes. ‘And I love you too. Please Ed, my mum wouldn’t care if I stayed round yours and she’d smooth it over with my dad,’ she pleaded.

Eddie shook his head. ‘It’s not your mum, Jess, I know she’d be OK. Look at things from your dad’s point of view. He knows I’m thirty, he knows I’ve been married, he knows I’ve got kids. If you stay out tonight, he’ll be worried sick and I don’t want to fuck things up for us. Trust me, I’m a man and I know how they think.’

Unable to tear herself away, Jessica kissed him passionately. Aware of him getting all excited, she put her hand on his erection.

Laughing, he grabbed her hand and moved it away. ‘Don’t start all that, else you’ll never get home. Seriously now, come on, be a good girl. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, OK?’

Jessica opened the car door. ‘Pick me up lunchtime if you like.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘I’ve got a bit of business to attend to. I’ll pick you up about six.’

‘I love you,’ Jess said.

Eddie winked. ‘Sweet dreams and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

THREE

FLOATING ON AIR, Jessica let herself into the house. Thankfully, her dad was in bed, but her mum was still sitting up reading a book.

Joyce folded the page and urged Jess to sit next to her. ‘I’ve been dying to know how your evening went. Oh, Jess, I thought he was lovely. Now, tell me everything from the start.’

Jessica’s eyes shone. ‘I’ve had such a wonderful evening, Mum. We didn’t end up going to the pictures, we went to a pub in East Ham instead. Eddie’s so popular, you know. Wherever we go, he has people hanging on his every word. And you’ll never guess what, Mum?’

Joyce could barely contain her excitement. ‘What? What’s happened?’

Jessica giggled. ‘He said the L word for the first time. He told me he’s in love with me.’

Joyce clapped her hands. ‘How did he say it? What were you talking about at the time? Did he say it in the pub?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘It was right at the end of the evening. We were outside chatting in the car. I wanted to go back to his flat, but he said no. He said that he promised you and dad that he’d get me home early and then he just said it. “I love you, Jess,” he said, and then he started talking about our future together.’

Joyce clasped her daughter’s hands. ‘That’s marvellous, darling. I’m so excited. I wish I’d seen his car. Why didn’t he come round in it earlier?’

‘His brother Ronny wanted to borrow it. Eddie’s so kind, he said yes straight away.’

Joyce smiled. ‘I’ve never been in a Mercedes. Do you think you and him could take me out for a ride in it one day?’

‘Of course. I’ll ask him tomorrow,’ Jess replied.

‘So what happens now? Do you think he might propose?’ Joyce asked.

Jessica shrugged. ‘Hopefully, soon he might. I’d definitely say yes if he did.’

Joyce studied her beautiful daughter. She was no longer a little girl. She was all grown up. Joyce held both of her hands. ‘Let me give you some advice, darling. True love is extremely hard to find, I should know. So if you’re lucky enough to have found it, make sure you hang on to it. I mean, Eddie’s thirty, isn’t he? And when a man’s been married, he’s obviously used to a sexual relationship. Don’t let him get away, Jess, you do what you’ve got to do to keep him happy.’

Embarrassed, Jessica stood up. She was close to her mum, but wasn’t used to discussing her sex life with her. ‘I’m tired now, Mum, I’m gonna go to bed. I understand what you’re saying and don’t worry, I won’t let him get away.’

As Jessica left the room, Joyce couldn’t stop smiling. She couldn’t wait to tell all of her friends at her dressmaking class. None of their daughters had captured a bloke half as good as Eddie, and she couldn’t wait to brag about her daughter’s rich, handsome boyfriend.

After a restless night, Eddie got up early and sorted out a meet with his father. Two o’clock at his aunt’s house was the arrangement. His Auntie Joan lived locally in Whitechapel and she allowed them to hold all their urgent meetings upstairs in her house.

His Auntie Joan had all but brought him and his brothers up, and Eddie was still very close to her. His mum had died when he was five years old. Ed could just about picture her face and he remembered her giving him lots of cuddles. The only other memory he had was of her coughing continuously and spitting blood into a bucket. One day he’d gone off to school and when he returned, she was gone.

He was too young to understand what was happening at the time, but he found out years later that she had been taken to a sanatorium and had later died there. Apparently, she’d contracted tuberculosis, better known as TB, and it was that, and pneumonia, that had killed her.

Harry, his dad, had never remarried. His house was still a shrine to the woman he had lost and he spent hours tending her grave. He visited a woman called Sylvie and sometimes took her out, but he refused to get too close. ‘Your mother was the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world. No other woman will ever hold a candle to her,’ he repeatedly told Eddie.

Eddie looked at his watch. His stomach was rumbling and he needed a nice cooked breakfast to start his brain functioning properly. He opened Ronny’s bedroom door.

‘Wakey, wakey. You getting up today, or what?’

‘What’s the time?’ Ronny mumbled.

‘Ten o’clock. I’ve arranged a meet with dad for two. I wanna go to the café first, then we’d best pop our heads in the Flag, see if them bastards did any damage last night, before we meet the others.’

Ronny propped himself up and squinted at Eddie through one eye. ‘Sorry if I was a bit out of order last night. Jess is a top girl and I really do want you to be happy.’

Eddie smiled. ‘Forget it. Now get your fucking arse in gear, I’m starving.’

A full English fry-up was followed by the trip to their local. As Eddie walked in, he was relieved to see that the pub still looked intact. John, the guv’nor, was out, so he got the lowdown off Betsy, the barmaid.

‘They never touched the bar area, but the sinks in the gents were pulled off the wall. Dirty, foul-mouthed bastards they were. You should have heard the things they were saying to Kim, the pretty new barmaid. She burst into tears in the end and I had to send her home.’

Eddie ordered himself and Ronny a drink. ‘Did they cause agg with any of the regulars?’ he asked.

Betsy shook her head. ‘All the regulars left soon after they arrived. They were so bloody loud, no one could hear themselves think.’

Eddie told Betsy to keep the change and thanked her for the information. ‘Tell John I’ll pop back and see him tomorrow. And if anyone comes in asking for protection money, tell him not to pay it.’

‘You don’t think they’ll come back, do you?’ Betsy asked. ‘Only, I’m in here on me own till tonight.’

‘I doubt it. We’ll have to pay ’em a little visit, let ’em know they’re not welcome.’

Betsy smiled. She loved Eddie Mitchell: he was handsome, had a real presence about him and she wished she was twenty years younger.

Eddie and Ronny left the Flag and drove straight over to Whitechapel.

Auntie Joan let them in and gave them both a big hug. ‘Your father, brothers and Uncle Reg are already upstairs. You go on up and I’ll bring you up some tea and sandwiches.’

Eddie got straight down to business. His dad, Uncle Reg and brothers sat quietly as the story of the O’Haras unfolded. No one said a word until he’d finished, then Ronny was the first to speak.

‘They’re obviously trying it on on our turf again. I bet they go round all our boozers and start demanding protection money. I think we should go in the Chobham with shooters. Can you imagine their faces if the five of us walked in armed?’

Harry Mitchell looked at Ronny as though he’d just crawled out from under a stone. ‘Shut up, you idiot. The Chobham’s their fucking headquarters, they’ll have so many witnesses backing ’em up, we’ll be nicked within an hour.’

Ronny felt his face redden. His dad had a wonderful way of putting him down and treating him like an imbecile in front of the rest of the family. He never did that to Eddie. Whenever he came out with an idea, his old man listened intently.

‘All right to come in, boys?’

Harry jumped up and answered the door to Joan.

‘That plate is ham and the other one’s salmon. I baked you some rock cakes and there’s more downstairs if you want them.’

Harry smiled as he took the trays off Joan. When his beautiful wife had been so cruelly taken from him, her sister had taken over from where she’d left off. She’d cooked, cleaned, washed, ironed and even taken care of the boys for him. Harry had never forgotten her kindness and had seen her all right over the years. When her husband, Alf, had run off with another woman, Harry had had him kneecapped and paid up her mortgage for her. Alf was now confined to a wheelchair, lived alone and was unable to walk, let alone run, the fucking arsehole.

As Harry munched away on a ham sandwich, he came to a decision. He’d leave the boys out of this one and sort it out himself. Butch O’Hara had shaken hands with him and called a truce, which had now been broken. Therefore, it should be Butch that was made to pay.

Pouring himself a cup of sugary, strong tea, Harry sipped it in almost a ladylike fashion and then wiped his mouth with a serviette.

‘Right, I’ve come to a decision,’ he said.

As always, the table fell silent as the head of the family spoke. ‘I don’t want yous boys involved in this one. I had a deal with Butch and it’ll be him that pays.’

Paulie was the first to speak. ‘You can’t do it alone, Dad. His sons are always with him, you’ll need back-up.’

‘You’re not a teenager any more,’ Ronny told his father.

Harry thumped his fist on the table. ‘I’m fifty-five, not fucking ninety. Now, I want you all to take note of what I’m saying. I am sorting this one out alone and if any of yous starts your own war with Jimmy O’Hara or any of the others behind my back, you’ll have me to answer to.’

No one argued. When Harry Mitchell gave out orders, he was always obeyed.

‘How you gonna collar Butch on his own?’ Eddie asked.

Harry smiled. ‘Every Wednesday morning Butch travels alone up to Southhall horse market. It’s his only day away from the boys. The horsebox he goes in isn’t kept on the site, he keeps it in a lock-up around the corner. He leaves really early, about half-five and I’m gonna wait for him at the lock-up.’

Reg nodded. He loved the idea. ‘What you gonna do? Frighten him or finish him off?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I dunno. Butch is probably totally unaware that his boys have been performing on our territory. I might just shoot him in the foot, give him a little warning. Mind you, if we have any repercussions, I’ll blow his fucking brains out.’

‘Why don’t you just blow his brains out anyway?’ Ronny said, laughing.

Harry ignored his idiotic son. ‘Oh, one more thing before we go. I’m gonna need a driver to come with me. You up for it, Eddie?’

‘Sure, Dad. When do you wanna do it, this Wednesday coming?’

Harry pondered momentarily. ‘I think we’ll leave it till the following week. They might be waiting for repercussions and we want them to enjoy a nice little surprise.’

Ronny glanced at Paulie. Neither said anything, but both were thinking the same thing. At thirty-six, Paul was the oldest. Ronny was thirty-three, yet Eddie, the youngest, was the golden fucking boy.

Reg clocked Ronny’s annoyance and looked away. He was Harry’s younger brother and had always been in his shadow, yet it had never bothered him. He didn’t mind Paulie, he was OK, but Ronny was a moron and Reg made a mental note to keep a close eye on him. For months, he’d noticed him becoming more and more jealous of Eddie and it wasn’t on – they were brothers, for fuck’s sake.

With the meeting over, everybody said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

Joyce glanced at the clock and opened the oven door. She tested the knife in her fruit cake and, happy it was properly cooked, put it on the kitchen top to cool down. Eddie was due to pick her daughter up soon, and she’d baked it especially for him.

Sitting in his armchair, Stanley was unable to concentrate on Hawaii Five-O. Usually, he was glued to anything Steve McGarrett did, but today the only thing he could concentrate on was that smarmy bastard who would shortly be picking his daughter up.

Stanley hadn’t been able to sleep properly the previous night and, when he had dozed off, he’d had nightmares about Harry Mitchell. He’d dreamt that Mitchell had taken out his eye instead of Roger Dodds’.

His nightmare had only come to an end when Joyce punched him in the side of the head. ‘What you screaming out and fidgeting for? You silly old bastard,’ she’d said.

Stan had ignored her and gone downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. He’d sat up the rest of the night, frightened to go back to sleep in case his nightmare returned.

Joyce heard her daughter coming down the stairs and yelled out to her to come into the kitchen.

‘Well, how do I look?’ Jessica asked.

Joyce stared at her. She was wearing a flowery top, white plastic boots and sexy yellow hotpants.

‘You look sensational. Where did you get your shorts?’ she asked.

Jess giggled. ‘They’re not called shorts, Mum, they’re hotpants. They were only cheap, I got ’em down Petticoat Lane.’

‘What time’s Eddie picking you up? Where’s he taking you tonight?’ Joyce asked excitedly.

‘He’s picking me up at six, I’m not sure where we’re going yet.’

Joyce smiled and pointed to the fruit cake. ‘I made that for your Eddie. Are you gonna invite him in?’

‘I wasn’t planning to.’

Noticing her mum’s disappointment, Jessica immediately changed her tune. ‘I’m sure he’ll have time to come in for a quick cup of tea,’ she said.

Joyce urged Jessica to shut the kitchen door. Last night, she’d been so excited about her daughter’s romance, she could barely sleep. She had thought of an idea and she really didn’t want Stanley earwigging.

‘What’s the matter?’ Jessica asked.

‘You know what we were talking about last night? About you making sure you don’t let go of Ed.’

Jessica nodded.

Moving nearer, Joyce continued. ‘Why don’t you trap him? You know, get pregnant on purpose. I mean, let’s face it, Jess, blokes like him don’t come along every day and I’m sure if you were carrying his child, he’d propose.’

Jessica looked at her mother in horror. She wanted Eddie to propose to her because he loved her, not because she had a bun in the oven. They’d done it twice without a rubber, but only because Ed had run out, and she had no intention of trapping him. She was about to tell her mum to mind her own bloody business when the doorbell rang.

‘Quick, don’t keep him waiting,’ Joyce said.

‘Don’t you dare say anything about babies and stuff in front of him, Mum.’

Joyce pushed her towards the front door. ‘Of course not, dear.’

Stanley felt himself flinch as Eddie walked towards him.

‘Good evening, Mr Smith,’ Eddie said, holding out his hand.

As Jessica stepped out from behind him, Stan glared at her. ‘Surely you’re not going out like that? You’ve got no bloody clothes on.’

Jessica raised her eyebrows. She didn’t know who she liked the least. Her domineering mother, who was always trying to run her life for her, or her old-fashioned father, who still thought she was twelve years old.

‘It’s the fashion, Dad. All the girls are wearing hotpants.’

‘Well, I’ve never bloody well seen anyone wearing them.’

‘That’s probably because you spend half your life in the betting shop. No one’s gonna be wearing them in there, are they?’ Joyce shouted at him.

Desperate to get away from her warring parents, Jessica grabbed Eddie’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said.

Eddie let her lead him out of the living room. ‘Nice to meet you both again,’ he said politely.

‘Hang on a minute,’ Joyce shouted.

Seconds later she presented Eddie with an object wrapped in tin foil. ‘That fruit cake you liked, I baked you one,’ she said proudly.

Eddie pecked her on the cheek. ‘You’re a star, Joyce. I’ll have that for me supper.’

Jessica felt relief wash over her as Eddie drove away from the house.

‘What’s up, babe?’ he asked her.

Jessica sighed. ‘Just parent trouble. They’re always arguing and they make me feel like piggy in the middle. Both of them drive me mad and I don’t know what to do about it.’

Eddie laughed. ‘I know exactly what you can do about it.’

‘What?’ Jessica enquired.

Swinging the car onto a nearby kerb, Eddie got out, walked round the other side and opened the passenger door. As he knelt on one knee, Jessica looked at him in amazement.

‘What you doing?’

Eddie held both her hands and smiled. ‘Jessica Smith, marry me?’

FOUR

JESSICA IMMEDIATELY ACCEPTED her boyfriend’s marriage proposal, but at Eddie’s insistence, she said nothing to either of her parents.

‘I’m a big believer in doing things properly, Jess. Keep schtum for now and next weekend I’ll come round your house and ask for your parents’ blessing. I’m a very traditional geezer at heart and I’m sure your dad would expect me to ask his permission.’

Jess loved Eddie’s morals, but with her head in the clouds, she was desperate for the world to know of her good fortune. ‘Can’t I just tell my mum, Ed? It will be so hard keeping it from her and I know she won’t say anything to my dad.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘No, it’s not right, Jess. We’ll tell them together and then I’ll take you shopping for a ring. I’ll take you up Hatton Garden and you can pick whatever you want.’

How Jessica kept her mouth shut that week, she would never know. She didn’t tell a soul, not even the girls at work. The following Saturday, she could barely contain her excitement and was out of bed before the birds had even started singing. She was unable to eat any breakfast, but made her parents boiled eggs, toast and tea and took it into their bedroom.

‘What’s all this in aid of?’ her mother said, as she handed her the tray.

Jessica smiled. ‘Eddie’s coming round at twelve and I need you both to be here.’

Stanley sat up and eyed his daughter suspiciously. ‘What’s going on, Jessica?’

‘Nothing untoward, Dad. Ed just wants to speak to you both, that’s all.’

Hearing her brother moving about, Jessica swiftly left her parents’ room and knocked on Raymond’s door.

‘Enter,’ he shouted.

Jessica sat on his bed while he got himself ready. Raymond was a vain little sod and took longer to get his hair looking right than she did.

‘What you up to today?’ she asked him.

‘I’ve got band practice, then I’m taking some bird out tonight.’

‘Anyone I know?’ Jessica asked him.

Raymond laughed and shook his head. He had a different girl on his arm every week and it was a standing joke between him and Jessica.

‘What you up to then, sis?’

Jessica smiled. ‘Eddie’s coming round at twelve and then he’s taking me shopping. I wanted you to meet him, Ray. Can’t you hang about and say a quick hello to him, then go out after?’

Raymond checked his appearance in the full-length mirror. ‘Sorry Jess, no can do. I’m meeting the boys at half-ten and they can’t exactly practise without their drummer.’

Jessica stood up and gave her younger brother a hug. ‘You have a good day and I want you to promise me that you’ll make time to have a drink with me and Ed soon.’

Raymond wriggled out of her arms and checked his shirt for creases. ‘I promise. Why are you being all soppy and emotional?’

Jessica giggled. ‘You’ll find out later.’

As the clock struck twelve, Stanley sat fidgeting in his armchair. He’d arranged to meet his mate Jock in the pub at one and he was sick of this poxy Eddie messing up his Saturdays.

‘I’ll give him till half-twelve and if he ain’t here, I’m off out,’ he mumbled.

‘You will do no such thing. You’ll go out when I say you can go out,’ Joyce told him.

Stan looked at the telly and said nothing. Ever since Jess had said that Eddie wanted to see them, his stomach had been in knots. Stan had a feeling that Mr Fucking Charming Bollocks wanted to take his daughter away on holiday and, if that was the case, he’d be far from happy about it.

Hearing a car engine, Joyce jumped out of her chair and lifted the curtain. She’d been bubbling with excitement all morning and was dying to know what Eddie needed to see them for. With a bit of luck he wanted to ask their permission to marry Jess.

‘Here he is,’ Joyce said, as the posh gold Mercedes pulled up.

Eddie picked up the bouquet and bottle of Chivas Regal he’d bought, and strolled up the path.

‘How lovely to see you again, Joyce,’ he said, handing her the flowers.

‘Awww, you shouldn’t have, they’re beautiful. Let me put them in a vase.’

Eddie gave Jessica a lingering kiss and then followed her into the living room.

‘Jess said you liked a drop of Scotch,’ he said, handing Stan the bottle.

‘Thanks,’ Stan said ungratefully. If Eddie had turned up bearing solid gold bars, he still wouldn’t like the bastard.

‘Go and keep your mum company while I have a little chat with your dad,’ Eddie told his girlfriend.

Jess gave his hand a good-luck squeeze and left the room.

Not one to go round the houses, Eddie came straight to the point. ‘I have fallen head over heels for your Jessica, Mr Smith. She means the world to me and I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.’

Stanley felt every hair on his body stand up on end. Aware of his heart racing and his hands shaking, he urged Eddie to pour him a drink. Aware that Stan had turned a whiter shade of pale, Eddie was quite concerned.

‘You don’t look very well. Are you OK?’ he asked, as he handed him a large Scotch.

Stanley downed the drink in one and immediately asked for a refill.

Desperate for an answer from the shivering wreck of a man, Eddie continued talking. ‘Look, I know how you must feel and I know Jessica is still very young. But, I promise you, Mr Smith, you have my word that I will cherish and take good care of her.’

Unable to think of anything nice to say, Stanley grabbed the bottle of Chivas Regal and poured himself yet another.

‘It’s not up to me. Go and ask her mother,’ Stanley muttered.

Eddie stood up and walked into the kitchen. ‘Go and see your dad, Jess, I need to have a chat with your mum.’

Joyce smiled as he closed the kitchen door. ‘Would you like some fruit cake?’ she asked.

Eddie shook his head and cut straight to the chase. ‘I am totally in love with your Jessica and I want to marry her. I’ve had a little chat with your husband and he said it’s up to you, Joyce. I know she’s very young, but I promise you with all my heart that I’ll take good care of her.’

To say Joyce was over the moon was putting it mildly. Unable to stop herself, she flung her arms around Eddie’s neck.

‘I am so happy,’ she sobbed. ‘Welcome to the family, Eddie. My Jessica is a very lucky girl and I’d be proud to call you my son-in-law.’

Eddie smiled. ‘I’ve got a bottle of champagne in the car. I’ll bring it in and we can have a toast.’

Joyce sorted out her best crystal glasses and took four into the living room. She hugged Jessica. ‘Congratulations, darling. Eddie’s a wonderful man – you’ve bagged yourself a good one there.’

Noticing Stanley had a face like a smacked arse, Joyce kicked his leg. ‘For Christ’s sake cheer up, you miserable old bastard.’

Stanley said nothing as he was handed a glass of champagne.

Eddie kissed Jessica gently on the forehead. ‘I’m taking Jess to Hatton Garden to choose a ring this afternoon. She can have the biggest diamond in the shop.’

Joyce couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. The only rock Stan had ever bought her was a poxy old topaz. ‘You’ll have to pop back and show me your ring,’ she said to Jess.

‘I’ll show you tomorrow. Now we’re engaged to be married, you don’t mind if I stay round Ed’s tonight, do you, Mum? We want to go out for a meal to celebrate and we won’t be back till late.’

Joyce nodded. ‘That’s fine by me, love.’

Stanley looked at his wife in disgust. His daughter wasn’t even married yet and Joyce was encouraging her to hawk her mutton.

‘To my beautiful wife-to-be,’ Eddie said, holding his glass aloft.

‘To Jessica and Eddie,’ Joycie crowed.

Stan looked at the clock. It was nearly half-past one and he was late to meet Jock. Desperate to get away from the man who had led his daughter astray, he stood up. ‘I’m going out now.’

‘You can’t go out yet. We’re in the middle of a celebration,’ Joyce said angrily.

Eddie decided to stick up for his future father-in-law. ‘It’s fine, Joyce. To be honest, me and Jess need to make a move now ourselves. I’ll drop you at the pub, Stan, if you like?’

Stanley shook his head. He’d rather crawl there on all fours than get inside Eddie’s car.

Joyce tutted as her husband slunk away and then hugged both Jessica and Eddie. ‘Have a nice evening and if you can’t be good, be careful,’ she giggled.

Feeling herself going red, Jessica dragged Eddie out of the front door. ‘My mum is just so embarrassing at times,’ she moaned to her fiancé.

Eddie waved at Joyce as they drove away. The old girl would jump in the river if he asked her to, but he’d have to work a bit harder if he was to win over the old man.

A few days after his engagement to Jessica, Eddie picked his father up at four o’clock in the morning. Butch wasn’t expected to pick up the horsebox till around half-five, but his dad was keen to get there well before his intended victim.

Harry got into the car with a sports bag in his hand. ‘What’s in there?’ Eddie asked him.

‘Bolt-cutters. There’s a yard bang opposite where Butch keeps the box. We’ll cut the lock off and hide in there.’

‘We’re a bit early, ain’t we?’ Ed said.

‘Do a right here, son. We’re not going in your motor, we’ll pick up the old Bedford van. It’s still registered to some cunt in Luton, so worst ways we can burn it out if we need to.’

Eddie followed his father’s directions and they swapped motors. Driving towards Stratford, Eddie told him about Jessica. ‘I proposed to her at the weekend, Dad. I dunno when we’ll get married yet, but I bought her a nice engagement ring. You’ll have to meet her soon. She’s a right little cracker and I know you’ll like her.’

Harry patted his favourite son on the shoulder. ‘I’m pleased for you, boy, I really am. I knew straight away that your mother was the one. She was a right little cracker as well.’

Thinking about his beautiful dead wife plunged Harry into silence and he didn’t utter another word throughout the rest of the journey.

‘Left here,’ Harry said, snapping out of his trance. ‘Pull up over there. That yard’s the one we’re gonna hide in, the one with all the graffiti.’

Checking that no one was about, Eddie opened the driver’s door. ‘What we gonna do if the people turn up and we’re in their yard?’

Harry laughed. ‘The yard belongs to Terry O’Donnell. He ain’t used it for years and he owes me more than a few favours anyway.’

Taking the bolt-cutters out of the bag, Harry handed Eddie a pair of leather gloves and put on a pair himself. ‘Put on the gloves and cut the chain, son. I’ve got another chain and lock in the bag to replace it with when we’re done. I’d love to see Terry O’Donnell’s face if he can’t get in to his own yard. I’ll send him the new key in the post.’

As Eddie opened the gate he came face to face with a massive rat. ‘Fuck that! It frightened the fucking life out of me,’ he said, as the rat scuttled away.

Harry laughed. ‘Shut up, you big pansy.’

‘What we gonna do with the van?’ Eddie asked.

‘Put it in here,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll run across and, once I’ve shot the cunt, we can drive straight off.’

Eddie parked the van inside, then closed the gates. He stuck his hand through the large gap and loosely laid the broken chain back through the lock.

Harry sat down on an old tin drum. ‘I had a drive down here earlier this week. There’s no one about this time in the morning. As soon as we hear Butch pull up, I’ll creep out and do him as soon as he opens his yard. When you hear the gun go off, start the van and pull out. Lock up the yard for us, then we’re away.’

Eddie nodded. He was freezing his bollocks off and wished he’d put on warmer clothes.

The men sat in silence while they waited. Finally, at 5.23, they heard a diesel engine pull up outside. Harry peeped through the gate to check it was Butch. He waited until Butch opened the gates and went inside his yard, then he gently lifted the loose chain, crept out and followed him in.

Butch was just about to climb into his horsebox when he saw Harry Mitchell staring at him with a gun in his hand.

‘What the fuck! What’s going on, mush?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I warned you, Butch, we had a deal. Your boys have taken a fucking liberty, yet again.’

Butch could feel himself shaking. ‘What are me boys meant to have done?’

‘Performed in the Flag the other night, they did. Smashed the bogs up, terrorised the bar staff. The Flag is our territory, you know it is, Butch. Your boys have no manners and I’m not putting up with it any more.’

‘I didn’t know, Harry. I’m sorry, I’ll talk to ’em, I’ll sort it.’

Harry smiled as he lifted the gun. ‘It’s a bit late for that. I warned you about all this once before.’

‘Please, no, don’t kill me,’ Butch said, as he fell to the ground.

Harry moved deftly towards him. Butch had gone down before he’d even fucking shot him, the coward. Harry grabbed hold of the petrified man’s right leg.

‘No, please, no,’ Butch begged.

Harry Mitchell ignored his pleas, pulled back the trigger and blasted him in the right foot. ‘Take that as a warning, Butch. If I was you, I’d advise your family to move their caravans to a different fucking area.’

As blood poured from his foot, Butch was aware of shit running down his legs. He was in too much pain to speak any more; instead he just covered his head with his hands.

Harry walked away. ‘Next time, I’ll blow your brains out,’ he said menacingly.

Eddie replaced the lock and jumped back in the van. ‘Everything go OK?’ he asked, as his father got into the passenger’s side.

‘All sorted, son. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody well starving. Drop the van off, drive back to Canning Town and we’ll have a nice little fry-up in Maureen’s Café.’

FIVE

A MONTH AFTER announcing her engagement, Jessica sat nervously in the doctor’s surgery, clutching her best friend’s hand. Jessica’s periods were usually as regular as clockwork; she could never remember it being one day late, let alone two weeks. Taking her friend Mary’s advice, Jess had gone to see her doctor the previous week. The receptionist had given her a container for a urine sample, of which she was now awaiting the results.

Anxiously biting her nails, Jessica turned to her friend. ‘What am I gonna do if I am? I mean, Eddie’s already got two kids and he’s never mentioned wanting any more. Say he finishes with me? He might call off the engagement and make me have an abortion.’

Mary put her arm around Jessica. ‘You’re being silly now. Eddie loves you, so why on earth would he treat you like that? I bet if you are pregnant, he’ll be as pleased as Punch.’

About to reply, Jessica froze as her name was called. Mary accompanied her into the surgery and they sat down opposite Dr Hunter.

‘I have the results of your test back, Jessica, and I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant.’

Jessica burst into tears. She and Eddie had only done it twice without a rubber.

‘I’m too young to be a mum. I won’t know what to do,’ Jessica cried.

Mary hugged her and spoke to the doctor at the same time. ‘I think it’s a bit of a shock for Jess. Can we book her another appointment for next week?’

Dr Hunter nodded. In his profession he was used to this reaction. It’s a shame these young girls never thought about the consequences before they opened their legs.

Mary thanked the doctor for his time and led Jessica outside. ‘You wait here and get some fresh air while I book you another appointment,’ she told her.

A trip to a nearby café proved to be a turning point in Jessica’s anxiousness and, after three cups of tea, she even managed a smile.

‘Me mum’ll be pleased, I know that. She’s always banging on about having grandchildren one day. As for me poor old dad, he’ll probably drop dead with the shock of it all.’

Mary giggled. ‘I wish I’d met a nice man like you have, I’d love to be in your position. When are you gonna tell him?’

Jessica took a bite of her bacon sandwich. ‘I’m seeing Ed tonight, so I’ll tell him then. Keep your fingers crossed, eh?’

Mary squeezed her hand. ‘Everything’ll be fine, I just know it will.’

Eddie counted the takings for the second time. Satisfied that they were spot-on, he placed the money in a carrier bag and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Although his family owned salvage yards, most of their money came from pub protection. They tried not to hit on their own doorstep too much, and concentrated more on the surrounding areas. Everybody, including the O’Haras, thought that John, the guv’nor in the Flag, paid them protection, but that wasn’t the case. John was their mate, he looked after them and vice versa.

Eddie turned the radio on as he made himself a sandwich. He hated silence, it gave him the heebies. Hearing the croaky voice of Rod Stewart, he cranked up the volume. He loved that song, ‘Maggie May’. It was all about a young boy having an affair with an older woman. Eddie thought back to his colourful past. He’d been in that position many a time in his youth, so much so that the song could have been written especially for him.

Smirking, Ed flopped onto the sofa and was just about to tuck into his doorstep special when the phone rang. ‘Fucking nuisance,’ he muttered, as he ran to the hallway to answer it.

‘All right, Dad? What you up to?’

‘I’m just leaving home. Have I got some news for you, Eddie, my boy. Meet me in the Flag, I’ll be there in half an hour.’

Eddie could tell by his father’s voice that whatever news he had was bloody good.

‘Don’t keep me waiting. Tell us now.’

Harry Mitchell laughed. ‘No way. I need to see the expression on your face when I tell you. Be patient and move your arse.’

Eddie shook his head as he replaced the receiver. He was a funny bastard, his father, a proper fucking character.

Jessica had a bath, dried her hair and sat on the bed in her dressing gown. She was dreading telling her parents the news, but the quicker she told them the better. Her mum should be OK; it was her dad she was worried about. Jessica wasn’t very good at lying.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ her mum asked her earlier.

‘Nothing,’ Jessica lied. Her dad wasn’t at home and she’d rather kill two birds with one stone than tell them separately.

Hearing the front door slam shut, Jessica chucked on some clothes and wandered downstairs.

‘Any chance of a quick word with both of you?’ she asked sheepishly.

Joyce and Stanley followed her into the living room.

‘Sit down,’ Jessica urged.

Stan said a silent prayer. Something was wrong and with a bit of luck Mr Fucking Charming Bollocks had kicked her into touch.

‘What’s up, love?’ he asked hopefully.

Jessica felt too embarrassed to look them in the eye, so she focused on the carpet.

‘Please don’t have a go at me, but I found out today that I’m pregnant. I’m really sorry if I’ve let you both down.’

Joyce hugged her daughter. The timing wasn’t perfect but, nevertheless, she was thrilled. She’d always fancied being a young grandma. She could barely wait to get dolled up and go out walking with the pram. As for babysitting, she would look after the child as much as Jess would allow her.

‘I’m so pleased for you, darling. Now, don’t you worry about being young and not being able to cope. Your old mum will teach you the ropes and I’ll be there for you as much as possible. Perhaps Eddie will buy you a house nearby, so I’m always on hand to help out and babysit.’

Stanley sat paralysed in the armchair. He’d had so many high hopes for his beautiful daughter and now she was up the spout by that Mitchell bastard.

‘Are you OK, Dad?’ Jessica asked him.

Stan nodded and looked the other way. He didn’t want her to see the tears in his eyes.

‘What about the wedding? Will you bring it forward or get married after the baby’s born?’ Joyce asked.

Jessica shrugged. ‘I’ll speak to Eddie tonight. He doesn’t even know that I’m pregnant yet. I don’t really want a baby out of wedlock, so the sooner we tie the knot, the better. I’d rather do it before I start showing.’

Joyce nodded. She could understand where Jess was coming from. Walking down the aisle with a stomach like a rugby ball never looked good on anyone. She squeezed her daughter’s hand.

‘Whatever you and Eddie decide, me and your dad are right behind you, aren’t we, Stanley?’

Stan said nothing. The quicker he got out of this bleeding nuthouse the better.

‘Stanley, what do you think you’re doing? Where you going?’ Joyce shouted.

Ignoring his wife, Stan put on his checked cap and slammed the front door.

Eddie ordered another drink and glanced at his watch. His bloody father was late and he was doing buttons to know what had happened.

Five minutes later, a beaming Harry Mitchell strolled into the pub.

‘Well, what’s occurring?’ Eddie asked him.

Ushering his son over to an empty corner of the pub, Harry sat opposite him. ‘They’ve gone.’

Eddie shook his head, ‘Who you on about? Who’s fucking gone?’

Harry started laughing. ‘The O’Haras. They’ve moved away, the whole lot of ’em. They’ve gone to Essex, by all accounts. Butch sent a message to me yesterday, via Ginger Mick. He told him to tell me that there won’t be any repercussions and he wants an end to the feud for good. Ginger Mick said the old cunt was petrified and he can barely fucking walk. Yesterday they went – the site’s completely fucking empty. Packed up their stuff and did a moonlight flit, apparently.’

Eddie couldn’t stop smiling. He would never have to see Jimmy O’Hara’s ugly boat race ever again.

‘Bring us over a bottle of champagne, Betsy,’ he ordered the barmaid.

Eddie shook his old man’s hand. ‘You know what this means, don’t you? We can take over the Stratford boozers. I can’t wait for us to bowl into the Chobham and demand money off that pikey-loving cunt of a guv’nor. I think we should stick the price up in there, charge him more than we charge anyone else.’

Harry laughed. ‘My sentiments exactly. Apparently, they had seven boozers in Stratford on their payroll, all told. In the next couple of days we’ll pay all of ’em a visit, get our foot in the door.’

Eddie sipped his drink. ‘Are you sure that Ginger Mick can be trusted?’

Harry nodded. ‘I’ve had him on me payroll since he was a young ’un. Safe as houses, he is. The O’Haras thought he was their Joey – what they didn’t know was that I set it all up. We needed a spy in the camp, and Ginger Mick was perfect.’

Reg, Paulie and Ronny’s arrival spelled the start of a glorified piss-up. Champagne corks went flying and there were pats on the back and handshakes all around.

‘Come and join us, John,’ Harry urged the guv’nor.

Ronny started the singalong and the rest of the lads joined in: ‘When the inbred O’Haras go run, run, a-running along, shoot the bastards, shoot the bastards, shoot, shoot, shoot the bastards.’

‘What yous lot celebrating? Ain’t won the bleedin’ football pools, have yer?’ Betsy asked, as she brought over yet another two bottles of champagne.

‘We’re celebrating being the kings of the East End,’ Ronny shouted, grabbing her large backside.

‘Keep yer dirty fucking hands to yerself, Ronny Mitchell,’ Betsy said, laughing.

The raucous behaviour, jokes and songs continued for hours and, three sheets to the wind, Eddie completely lost track of time. ‘Shit, I was meant to pick Jess up at seven,’ he said, leaping out of his chair.

‘Fuck her off, stay out with us tonight,’ Ronny said.

‘Yeah, let’s go to a club and celebrate properly,’ Paulie suggested.

Eddie shook his head. He was a gentleman and would never let Jess down at short notice. Realising he was in no fit state to drive, he asked John the guv’nor to call him a cab.

Five minutes later, he heard a bib outside and said his goodbyes.

‘All of us will meet in here tomorrow at two o’clock. Then we can pay a nice friendly visit to the Chobham and the rest of them boozers in Stratford,’ his father told him.

Eddie jumped into the cab and urged the driver to put his foot down.

Jessica, who had been standing looking out of the window for an hour, felt relief surge through her as Eddie got out of the cab. She ran to the front door.

‘There you are.’

Eddie was full of apologies, ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, babe. Something cropped up. It won’t happen again, I promise.’

‘I was so worried, I thought you’d had an accident or something,’ Jessica said.

Eddie held her close and stroked her hair. ‘I got stuck with some business, you know how it is.’

‘Where’s your car?’ Jessica asked.

Eddie was saved from answering by Joyce’s intervention.

‘Would you like a beer, Eddie? Or a cup of tea and fruit cake?’

Eddie shook his head. ‘The cab’s waiting outside. I’m gonna take Jess out for a nice meal. Another time, eh, Joycie?’

Joyce could tell Eddie was a bit drunk, but boys would be boys. Her son Raymond was the same; he was always coming home tipsy.

Joyce winked at Jess and crossed two fingers on both hands. ‘Good luck,’ she mouthed, as they walked up the path.

Jessica sat in the restaurant and barely touched her food. ‘Leave the chips if you like, but eat that fillet steak,’ Eddie urged her.

‘I’m not hungry,’ Jessica said, as she slipped it onto his plate.

Having sobered up a bit, Eddie soon realised that Jess wasn’t herself and obviously had something on her mind. He put down his knife and fork and took her hands in his.

‘Come on, spit it out, what’s a matter, babe? Are you having second thoughts about us getting married or something?’

Jessica shook her head. She just had to say it, there was no other way. ‘I went to the doctor’s today, Eddie. Please don’t have a go at me, but I’m pregnant.’

Eddie’s smile was that wide it almost lit up the restaurant. ‘Are you sure? Have you had a proper test?’

Jessica nodded. ‘The doctor gave me the results today. Look Ed, I’m so sorry. If you want me to get rid –’

Eddie leaned further across the table and kissed her on the lips. ‘Get rid of it? Are you mad? Don’t you get it, Jess? I love you and we can have as many babies as you want.’

Realising that he was telling the truth, Jessica smiled. ‘What about the wedding, though? I’m not walking down the aisle with a bun in the oven, Ed. It will look awful, people will think I’m a tart.’

Eddie laughed. ‘You ain’t gotta walk down the aisle with a bun in the oven. Look, we’d have had trouble finding a vicar to marry us on the quick ’cause I’ve already been married. How about I book a register office? We can get married in the next couple of weeks if you want.’

Jessica’s eyes shone. ‘Really, Ed? Do you mean that?’

‘Of course I do. Waiter, bring us over a bottle of champers,’ Eddie said loudly.

Aware of all the other diners looking at him, Eddie smiled. He loved being the centre of attention, it was all part of his make-up.

He stood up and addressed the whole restaurant. ‘You see this beautiful girl here,’ he said, pointing at Jess.

‘We, us two, are getting married and we’re having a baby. Now, who fancies a glass of champagne to celebrate our happiness with us?’

‘I’ll have one,’ said an old man with a bald head.

‘We’ll have a drink with you,’ said a woman in a spotted dress.

Eddie ordered the waiter to get more bottles of champagne and share them between all the other diners. The restaurant was reasonably empty and, apart from themselves, there were only five other tables taken.

Jessica could feel herself blushing beetroot red. Eddie could be so bloody loud, especially when he’d been drinking.

‘Nosy load of bastards. They were all looking at us,’ he whispered to Jess.

Winking at her, Eddie carried on where he’d left off. ‘Now come on, fucking stand up, I’ve just bought you all champagne.’

Well aware that he was probably a local villain, everybody leaped to attention. Eddie held his glass aloft.

‘To Jessica, the most beautiful girl in the world,’ he said.

Wary, but amused at the same time, everybody lifted their glasses.

‘To Jessica,’ they repeated after him.

Minutes later, Jessica’s happiness partly disintegrated.

‘I beg your pardon?’ she said to Eddie. He was winding her up, he had to be.

‘I said, I want you to pack your job up in the morning. Now we’re getting married, things are different. I’ve got money – you don’t need to work any more.’

Jessica looked at him in amazement. She liked her independence, enjoyed her little job and she had so many friends there.

‘I’m not ready to give it up yet, Ed. I know when I’ve had the baby, I’ll have to, but that’s ages away yet.’

Eddie held her hands and gazed deep into her eyes. ‘Look, if we’re gonna get wed, you’ve got to get your priorities right. I mean what’s more important, a poxy job in a shoe shop, or us and our baby’s future? Marriage is all about give and take, Jess, and if you can’t do this one little thing for me, then maybe you’re not ready for such a big commitment.’

Jessica bit her lip. She had just found the man of her dreams and she couldn’t lose him over something so trivial. She squeezed his hand.

‘You’re so right, Ed. I mean, I’d have to give it up in a few months anyway, so I might as well do it now. I’ll ring them first thing tomorrow, to tell them that I’m leaving.’

Eddie smiled. ‘That’s my girl. You know it makes sense.’

Joyce and Stanley were watching a late-night film when Jessica arrived home. ‘Did you have a nice evening? How did Eddie react to the news?’ Joyce asked excitedly.

‘Oh, Ed was thrilled. He said we can have as many babies as I want,’ Jess said happily. ‘And I’m giving my job up. I’m gonna ring the shop tomorrow to tell them I won’t be coming back.’

Stanley looked at his daughter in astonishment. ‘You can’t give up your job. I thought you liked working in the shoe shop.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘Eddie said that I don’t need to work any more. He said he’ll look after me and the baby from now on.’

Aware that her dad was anything but happy, Jessica looked away from him. ‘I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea,’ she said, as she swiftly left the room.

Stanley glared at Joyce. ‘She loves that bloody job. That bastard’s trying to manipulate her already. It ain’t right, Joycie. Next thing you know, he’ll have her shut in a fucking cupboard. These villains have different principles to the likes of me and you. They keep their women under lock and key, and we’ve got to put a stop to it before it’s too late.’

Joyce threw her husband a look of contempt. ‘Don’t you dare spoil our daughter’s happiness. If Eddie wants to support Jess, then good for her. I wish I hadn’t had to work when I was pregnant. Do you know how hard it was for me, dragging myself to that bloody office every day? I had no choice, we couldn’t survive on your measly wages. You leave our Jess alone and keep your idiotic opinions to yourself, Stanley. Unlike me, she’s found a rich man, a good ’un.’

About to answer his wife back, Stanley was stopped from doing so by Jessica’s reappearance. ‘Thanks, love,’ he said, as she handed him his cuppa.

Jessica sat down next to her mum. She had one more bombshell to drop and she knew her dad wasn’t going to be happy. ‘Oh, by the way, Eddie and I have decided to get married in a couple of weeks’ time. We’re not gonna bother with a church do, we’ve decided on a register office.’

As the horror of the situation hit Stanley, he spilt half of the contents of his favourite mug over his leg. ‘Bollocks!’ he yelled, as the hot tea scalded him.

‘Silly old goat,’ Joyce whispered.

Jessica felt sorry for her dad. She knew it had always been his dream to one day walk her down the aisle. ‘Are you OK, Dad?’ she asked kindly.

Stanley said nothing as he dabbed his trousers with his handkerchief. Whatever he said would make no difference, so what was the bloody point? Both his wife and daughter thought the sun shone out of Eddie Mitchell’s arse. With a sense of foreboding, Stanley said goodnight, left the room and trudged dejectedly up the stairs.

He was sure that the day would come when his wife and daughter would wish they had listened to him. Until that day came, Stanley had little choice other than to smile, be polite and keep schtum.

SIX

JOYCE GASPED IN admiration as Jessica walked through the door.

‘You look just like a model – so, so pretty. I am so proud of you, Jess, I really am.’

Not wanting her mother and father’s arguments spoiling her big day, Jessica had opted to get ready over the road. Her friends, Ginny and Linda, lived next door to one another. Both worked as hairdressers and they had kindly offered to do her hair and make-up for free.

Noticing Jessica’s hands shaking, her best friend, Mary, handed her a glass of wine. ‘Your hair looks fabulous at the back. Whose idea was it to put those beads in it?’

Jessica smiled. ‘It was Eddie’s, actually. We saw a girl wearing white beads in her hair in a pub last week and Eddie said they’d look great for my wedding day. He likes me to wear my hair up.’

Jessica only had one set of grandparents still alive. Her dad’s parents had both died in the last few years, but her mum’s parents had recently retired to Norfolk. Her nan smiled at her. ‘Beautiful dress, darling. Where did you get it from? Must have cost a fortune with that crochet and crystal trim.’

Jessica carefully sat down and took a sip of her wine. ‘A shop in Knightsbridge. Eddie sent me there; his friend owns the place and I was allowed to choose whatever I wanted. Ed told me not to worry about the price, he wouldn’t even let the man tell me how much it cost.’

Nanny Ivy pursed her lips. ‘Sounds too good to be true, this Eddie,’ she said curtly.

Joyce scowled at her mother. She saw very little of her parents, which suited Joyce just fine. They hadn’t seen eye to eye for years and Joyce would never forgive her mum for forcing her to marry Stanley.

‘No, he’s not too good to be true, mother. He’s a respectable gentleman, a lovely chap. In fact, he’s the total opposite of what you made me end up with.’

Ivy knew when to shut up. There was nothing whatsoever wrong with Stanley. Joyce had always had a high opinion of herself. Acted like Lady Dunabunk, she did, full of her own self-importance.

‘Where is everybody?’ Jessica asked.

Joyce looked at the clock and felt the first stirrings of annoyance. She’d been so wrapped up talking about the wedding, she’d forgotten Stanley had been due back ages ago.

‘Christ knows where your father’s got to. He was ready at ten o’clock this morning, had a bath and put his suit straight on, he did. Then he dragged your grandad and Raymond down the bookie’s, said they’d only be half-hour. If he’s in that pub, getting half-sozzled, I’ll bleedin’ well kill the bastard.’

Jessica felt her heart beating at double its usual pace. She was already nervous about the day ahead and the last thing she needed was her parents at one another’s throats. Please God, not today, she prayed silently.

Stanley Smith stood in the betting shop and watched in dismay as trap six came stone bollock last.

‘Stupid fucking mutt, wants putting down,’ he cursed, as he made the short walk back to his local. ‘Give us another three bitters, three whisky chasers, and a lager for Raymond,’ he told Anna, the barmaid.

Anna smiled. ‘You’re going for it today, Stanley. Who’s that older man you’re with? And why are yous all dressed up?’

Not in the mood for polite conversation, Stanley mumbled the words, ‘Father-in-law, going to a wedding,’ and walked away.

Stanley was dreading the day ahead of him. The thought of handing his beautiful daughter over to a bastard like Eddie Mitchell filled him with hatred and anger.

‘What’s the time, Stan? Hadn’t we better be getting back soon?’ asked Bill, his father-in-law.

‘Mum’ll have her broom out if you’re late,’ Raymond joked.

‘It’s OK, we’ve got time to drink these,’ Stan replied confidently.

Jock, Stan’s best mate, necked his whisky chaser and smiled. ‘Well, did you have any luck with that dog you had the tip on?’

Stanley shook his head. ‘I think the bastard mutt’s still running. My luck’s fucked at the moment, in every way you could think of.’

Seconds later, Stanley’s luck got even worse as he spotted an angry-looking Joyce stomping into the pub. ‘Shit, tell her I’ve already left,’ he said, as he threw himself under the table.

Knowing her husband’s cowardly behaviour of old, Joyce crouched down and immediately found him. ‘Stanley, get up from under that table and get your arse home this minute!’ she screamed.

Aware of the whole of the pub laughing at him, Stanley crawled out like a naughty schoolboy.

‘I’m sorry, Joycie. Me, Ray and Bill lost track of time. We were just gonna –’

Joyce lifted her umbrella and repeatedly whacked him on the backside. ‘Home, Stanley, now, and I mean now.’

With Joyce and her brolly on his tail, Stanley ran out of the pub, twice as fast as the mutt he’d lost his money on.

Eddie stood in Barking register office and glanced at his watch.

‘Don’t worry, she will be here,’ his brother Ronny assured him.

Eddie smiled. Paulie had been his best man at his first wedding to Bev, so he’d felt it only right to even things up by asking Ronny this time round.

Ronny had been thrilled to be asked. He’d hugged him, with tears in his eyes. ‘I’d be honoured, bruv, fucking honoured.’

Eddie wiped the palms of his hands on his smart grey suit. ‘Get someone to open that door, I’m sweating me cobs off in here,’ he ordered Ronny.

‘She’s arrived. They’re here,’ somebody shouted.

Eddie took a deep breath as Jessica walked towards him. Smiling, he squeezed her hand. ‘You look beautiful, really beautiful.’

The vows might have been short and sweet, but they were filled with emotion and spoken with meaning.

Eddie slipped the ring on Jessica’s finger and kissed her tenderly. ‘I love you, Mrs Mitchell,’ he whispered.

With little time to organise the big event, Eddie had chosen a restaurant in Canning Town for a slap-up meal, followed by a knees-up back at his local pub. He’d booked a disco and had told John, the guv’nor, to serve free drinks all night. He hadn’t invited too many people. Including Jessica’s family and friends, there were about fifty at the wedding and meal, and another fifty or so invited to the reception at the boozer.

‘I can’t believe my best mate’s married,’ Mary said, smiling.

‘You look so pretty, Jess,’ Linda said.

‘Beautiful,’ Ginny agreed.

‘Congratulations, darling,’ Joyce said, hugging her daughter.

‘I like Ed, he’s a top bloke, sis,’ Raymond said, kissing her.

Stanley felt his eyes water as he watched his daughter and Eddie gaze into one another’s eyes. It would all end in tears, he just knew it would.

His mother-in-law felt the same way. ‘I don’t like him. Surely our Joyce must realise they’re a family of villains? You’ve only got to look at them to see what they are.’

Stanley gave a defeated shrug. ‘You know what Joycie’s like, once she gets a bee in her bonnet. I never liked the flash bastard from day one, but as usual, my opinion counts for nothing in our house. I tried to tell Joycie, but she can’t see the wood for the trees.’

Noticing her father’s dismal expression, Jessica walked over and hugged him. ‘I know you’ve got your doubts, Dad, but trust me, I love Eddie and I know what I’m doing.’

Stanley took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his eyes. ‘I hope you’re right, darling, for your sake I do.’

Covered in confetti, Jessica and Eddie posed for numerous photographs.

‘Now all immediate family stand together,’ the photographer shouted.

As the camera flashed, both families smiled – well, apart from Ivy and Stan, that was. Stanley flinched as he spotted Harry Mitchell glance his way. Please God, don’t let him recognise me, he prayed.

Jessica felt nervous as she took her seat next to Eddie in the restaurant. Her own family were sitting at a different table and she’d have felt much more comfortable sitting with them.

She’d never met any of Ed’s family, apart from Ronny and Paulie, until now. ‘Where are Gary and Ricky? You said you’d bought them suits and they were coming.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘Sore subject. They were meant to be here, but my cunt of an ex-wife had one of her tantrums and took ’em away on holiday. You wait till she gets home, I’ll give her take my kids away without my permission.’

Not wanting to spoil his day, Eddie quickly changed the subject. ‘This is my Auntie Joan that I told you about, who brought me up as a nipper, and this is my Auntie Violet, my dad’s sister.’

‘I’m very pleased to meet you both,’ Jessica said shyly.

Auntie Joan patted the chair next to her. ‘You sit next to me, my darling, and Ed can sit at the top of the table. Oh, look at her, Vi, ain’t she pretty? Got the face of an angel, ain’t she?’

‘She’s an absolute princess,’ Violet replied.

As the two women showered her with compliments, Jessica felt her face redden. She wouldn’t have felt so nervous if she could have had a proper drink, but obviously, she didn’t want to make a show of herself in front of Eddie’s relations.

Harry Mitchell smiled at her. ‘You’ll get used to our nutty family in time, honest you will. Now, where’s your dad? I’ve been introduced to your mum, but I don’t even know which one your father is.’

As Harry Mitchell strolled towards him, Stanley felt the colour drain from his skin. Memories of the past came flooding back and all he could picture was Roger Dodds covered in blood with his eye hanging out. Unable to swallow the lump of fillet steak in his mouth, Stanley began to make choking noises.

‘For goodness’ sake, Stanley, why do you always have to show me up?’ Joyce yelled, as she punched him on the back.

As the meat flew out of his mouth and landed on Harry Mitchell’s lapel, Stan felt his bowels loosen.

Raymond burst out laughing and, luckily for Stan, Harry Mitchell was in a jovial mood. ‘Fucking hell, I’ve had a few bullets aimed at me in me time, but never a lump of meat,’ he joked.

Jessica was mortified. ‘Dad, this is Harry, Eddie’s father.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Stanley mumbled, shaking his hand.

There was no recognition on Harry’s face, and Stan breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Christ, you’re shivering. Shall I get them to turn the heating up?’ Harry asked kindly.

Stanley shook his head. ‘No, I’m fine thanks. I’ve got a bit of a chill, I think.’

Aware that her father was making a total penis of himself, Jessica quickly dragged Harry towards her brother. ‘And this is Raymond, my younger brother.’

Raymond stood up and shook Harry Mitchell’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you, sir,’ he said politely.

‘I’m sure we’ll all catch up again later in the pub,’ Harry said, bemused by his new in-laws. The brother was a proper kid with a handshake like a man’s. As for the father’s limp hand, the less said the better. ‘You can always tell a man’s soul by his handshake,’ his old mum used to tell him and Harry had learned over the years that she was spot on.

After everybody had finished their meals, champagne was poured freely all round. Harry Mitchell was the first to give a speech. He kept it short and sweet, but ended it by giving Jessica an envelope to open.

‘My wedding present to both of you,’ he said.

Jessica gasped as she looked inside. There were flight tickets and a stay in a five-star hotel in Italy. ‘It’s booked for next week. I’ve never flown before!’ she yelled gleefully.

As the best man, Ronny was the next to stand up. He spoke about Ed as a kid and ending it by saying, ‘Bev, my brother’s ex-wife, was as thick as two short planks. She was ugly, a monster, and I’m sure that everyone will agree that this time Ed’s got it right. Jessica is everything his first wife wasn’t and I’m sure they’ll be extremely happy together. Raise your glasses everybody. To Eddie and Jessica.’

Eddie locked eyes with his dad and Uncle Reg. All three shook their heads. Ronny had the brains and decorum of a fucking rat. Eddie quickly stood up, made a couple of jokes and glossed over his brother’s comments. He ended his speech by handing Jess yet another envelope.

‘You’ve made me so happy by becoming my wife, Jess. This is my present to you,’ he told her.

Jess couldn’t believe her eyes as she tore it open.

A few days ago they’d viewed a beautiful house not far from where her parents lived. Jess had fallen in love with it on sight. It was in a private road and was beautifully decorated.

‘We can’t afford it yet, Jess. Let’s get the wedding out of the way and we’ll find somewhere after we’re married,’ Eddie had told her.

Now she had the deeds and keys in her hand and could scarcely believe her luck. ‘I can’t believe it. Thank you, I love you so much,’ she said, as she threw her arms around Eddie’s neck.

Overcome by excitement, Jess lifted up the hem of her dress and ran over to her mum’s table. ‘Look, Mum, it’s only ten minutes’ walk from you. That’s the house I told you about. There’s a picture of it there.’

Eddie stood proudly behind his wife. ‘I knew she wanted to live near you and what Jess wants, she will always get,’ he told Joyce.

Joyce grabbed Eddie’s face and planted a smacker on his forehead. ‘I can pop round when you’re at work and, when the baby arrives, I’ll babysit whenever you want. I knew you’d make a great son-in-law the moment I saw you, Eddie. I can’t thank you enough for buying her a house near her mum. Look, Stanley, isn’t it wonderful?’

Stanley glanced at the piece of paper and nodded dumbly. As much as he hated Eddie, he was pleasantly surprised by this strange turn of events. Knowing Eddie’s type, he’d have fully expected him to whisk Jessica miles away from him and Joycie.

‘A young girl needs to be near her mum and dad. That’s what families are all about,’ Eddie said, smiling at Stan.

‘Don’t expect me to come round and change shitty nappies, will you, sis?’ Raymond said laughing.

Eddie ruffled Raymond’s hair. Jessica’s little bro was a proper character. In fact, he reminded Ed of himself at sixteen. Eddie allowed himself a wry smile. Neither Jess nor Ray were fuck-all like their father, so surely at least one of them had to belong to the milkman.

With the speeches and surprises all over, Eddie started to organise cabs to get to the reception.

As Joyce went off to powder her nose, Ivy shifted herself next to Stan. ‘I know I said this earlier, but I really don’t like him, Stan. Whatever was my Joycie thinking of, encouraging Jess to get involved with the likes of him?’

Stanley shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea, but I’m glad it ain’t just me. I don’t trust him, Ivy. He’s got eyes like dead fish.’

Ivy shuddered. She’d noticed Eddie’s cold, calculating stare from the moment she’d set eyes on him and the thought of her beautiful granddaughter sharing her life and bed with him sent shivers down her spine.

‘She won’t find happiness with him, Stanley. I’ve seen his sort before. He’ll mould Jess into what he wants and, before she knows it, he’ll suck the fucking life out of her.’

SEVEN
Seven years later – 1978

AWARE OF THE commotion in the back of her car, Jessica turned down the radio. ‘Will you two stop mucking about while Mummy’s trying to drive? What are you doing in the back?’

‘Frankie’s took one of my new trainers and she’s put it out the window,’ Joey said, trying to grab his sister’s arm.

As she stopped at a red light, Jessica glanced around. ‘You’d better not have thrown his trainer out, Frankie. Now where is it?’

‘I haven’t, Mum,’ her daughter said, showing her the proof.

‘Give it back to Joey, now,’ Jess ordered.

Giggling, Frankie gave the trainer back to its rightful owner.

Jessica sighed as she turned up the radio volume. Her children certainly drove her doolally at times, but she loved them more than life itself. She’d been horrified when the doctor had first told her that she was expecting twins.

‘I’m only seventeen, I’ll never cope,’ she had cried to Eddie.

Eddie had put his strong arms around her and washed away her fears. ‘You’ll be a natural, Jess. Remember, we’re in this together. I’ll help out as much as I can and your mum’ll be brilliant, I know she will.’

As usual, Eddie was right and, once she had got over the initial shock, Jess had never looked back. She remembered the day she’d given birth as though it was yesterday. The pain was unbearable and, due to the size of the babies and her small frame, the doctors had given her an emergency caesarean.

‘We think the babies could be in trouble,’ they had said.

Eddie and her mum had both been by her side when she’d finally come round. ‘Where are the babies? Are they OK?’ were her first words.

Eddie had tears in his eyes as he gently lifted them out of their cots. ‘We’ve got one of each, Jess. A boy and a girl.’

As rough and sore as she felt, Jess could barely believe her luck. The twins were a decent weight and absolutely perfect. To be blessed with one of each was a sheer gift from God.

Eddie and Jessica had spoken about baby names for months leading up to the birth. They hadn’t known what they were having, so they had chosen two names for a boy and two for a girl.

Francesca was Jessica’s choice. She thought it was the prettiest name she’d ever heard. Eddie chose Joseph. He wanted the name to be a tribute to his deceased grandfather. Their names were shortened within the first few years of their lives. Everybody referred to them as Frankie and Joey. They adored one another, and everything they did, they did together.

Jessica’s thoughts were interrupted by her son.

‘Mum, I think I’m gonna be sick.’

Unable to find her usual supply of sick bags, Jessica urged him to try and hold on for a minute. ‘Open the window, Joey. I can’t stop in the middle of the A13. Let me get round this corner and I’ll –’

The sound of retching mixed with the smell of sick stopped Jess in mid-sentence.

‘Urgh! Mum, open the roof.’ Frankie said, holding her head out of the window.

Spotting a lay-by, Jessica pulled over to inspect the damage. It was everywhere – all over Joey, the seats and the bloody carpet. With nothing but a box of tissues, Jess did her best to clean up both her son and the car. She daren’t tell Ed. He’d only recently bought her the red Mercedes convertible as a birthday present and he wouldn’t be impressed to know it was now covered in spew.

‘Make sure you’ve got a sick bag with you when you take Joey out,’ Ed insisted.

Jessica had carried a couple originally, but Joey had already used them and, with a brain like a sieve, she had forgotten to replace them.

‘Now, come on, don’t cry,’ Jessica said, wiping away her son’s tears.

Poor little sod, it wasn’t his fault that he was a terrible traveller. Frankie loved being in the car and was fine, but Joey, unfortunately, was the opposite.

Jessica put down the roof and continued her journey towards Tesco. Her parents and brother were coming over this evening and she had promised to cook them a slap-up meal. She couldn’t wait to show her dad and brother around her new house. Her mum had already visited and had fallen head over heels with it, but her dad and brother hadn’t yet seen the finished article.

‘Oh, Jess, it looks like a mansion. It reminds me of one of them posh houses in them American films your father watches.’

Jessica was thrilled with her new surroundings. The house was any woman’s dream. Eddie had had it built from scratch by some pals of his. He’d bought the land, got planning permission and, even though it had taken ages to finish, it was well worth the wait. The area, in the country lanes of Rainham, Essex, was perfect for the kids.

Before they had moved, they’d still lived in Upney, near Jessica’s parents, and Eddie had hated the area. ‘It’s a fucking shit-hole round here, Jess. Now the kids are nearing school age, we need to move somewhere nicer,’ he had told her a couple of years back.

Jessica had been reluctant to move at first but, within a month, Eddie had persuaded her. Eddie had forbidden Jessica to see the new house until it was all finished, and when she had, she was gobsmacked. Set in an acre of ground, it had four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big dining room, a luxury lounge and the most enormous, modern kitchen she had ever seen.

Jessica whooped with delight when she saw the garden. Eddie had made it into a playground for the kids. They had swings, slides, a trampoline, and he’d even had their own tree-house built for them.

‘Well, what do you think?’ he’d asked her.

‘I absolutely love it. It’s the nicest house I’ve ever seen in my life,’ Jessica said, overwhelmed.

Eddie might be a rough diamond, but his good points definitely outweighed his bad. Jessica was sort of aware of how her husband earned his money, but she never asked any questions. Eddie had a dark side to him sometimes, especially when he drank Scotch. They were the times Jessica chose to forget. Many a time Ed’s eyes would blacken and he’d lose his rag over the most trivial thing. Jessica always forgave him. She loved him too much not to, but he did frighten her. He’d never hit her or anything like that, but there were occasions when she’d feared he would.

Overall though, Ed was a fantastic husband, a good dad and a wonderful provider. Jess had never wanted for anything since the day she’d met him and she had never seen him so much as glance at another woman. On the whole, their marriage was extremely happy and everyone had their faults, didn’t they?’

‘Mum, Mum, I need a wee-wee,’ Joey said, snapping Jess out of her daydream.

Jessica quickly stopped the car. Her son had a weak bladder at the best of times.

‘Go behind that bush over there,’ she ordered.

Frankie laughed as her brother disappeared into the undergrowth. ‘Joey is funny, isn’t he, Mummy?’

Jessica ruffled her daughter’s hair. Frankie and Joey might be twins, but in many ways they were chalk and cheese. They looked nothing like one another and their personalities were extremely different. Frankie had dark hair and was more like Eddie. She was a proper tomboy, a little daredevil, who would try anything once. Joey was the opposite. He had blond hair and was more like herself. He hated heights, was petrified of insects and cried every time he watched Lassie.

Eddie would get really annoyed with Joey sometimes. ‘You’re meant to be a boy. Stop acting like a fucking wimp,’ he would shout at his son.

Jessica would comfort Joey, wipe away his tears, and then Eddie would have a go at her. ‘You’re to blame for the way he is. You mollycoddle the fucking kid. It’s a hard life out there, Jess, and he needs to shape up before it’s too late. Ricky and Gary were never like him, they were proper little boys. Joey acts like a sissy and if you don’t knock it out of him, then I fucking will.’

Jessica smiled as her son got back into the car. ‘You OK now, love?’

Joey nodded. ‘Can me and Frankie have an ice cream from the shop, Mum?’

‘No, because you won’t eat your dinner,’ Jessica said sternly.

‘Please, Mum, we promise we will eat our dinner,’ Frankie whinged.

Jessica could never say no to her kids and both of them knew it. ‘OK, but don’t tell your dad,’ she said.

Frankie and Joey locked eyes. ‘Thank you, Mummy,’ they said, smiling at one another.

In the heart of London’s East End, tempers were starting to fray. As Eddie Mitchell stared at the shivering wreck of a man, he felt nothing but contempt. ‘What do you mean, you ain’t got the fucking money? You know the rules,’ he shouted menacingly.

‘I’m really sorry. My car broke down and I had to get that repaired, then my fridge-freezer went wrong. I’ll pay you next week, I promise I will,’ the man pleaded.

Eddie turned to his two brothers. ‘What do you reckon lads? Should we give him another week or cut the cunt’s ear off?’

Ronny Mitchell gave a sadistic grin. ‘I don’t think we should chop off his ear. How ’bout we do his little finger instead?’

The shivering man fell onto his knees. ‘Please don’t hurt me. You know my wife is ill, she’s disabled. I had to get the car fixed to take her to the hospital. If you hurt me she’ll have no one to look after her.’

As Ronny licked his lips and pulled the knife out of his pocket, Eddie ordered him and Paulie to wait in the car. ‘But I thought you wanted us to do him?’ Ronny argued.

‘Just get in the fucking car, will you?’ Eddie yelled.

Hearing the front door slam, Eddie helped the man up and sat him on the sofa. ‘The thing is, mate, I know that you’re lying to me. You never got no car fixed or brought no fucking fridge-freezer. You spunked my money in the pub and the bookie’s, didn’t you?’

‘No, I never. I swear I –’

Annoyed at being lied to, Eddie stopped the man in mid-sentence by grabbing him around his scrawny neck. ‘Don’t lie to me, you cunt, ’cause I’ll kill you.’

The man started to sob. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spend it. It’s so hard looking after my Elaine, a drink and a bet is my only release.’

Eddie looked at the man with pure disgust. He knew for a fact that he fucked off out every day and left his poor disabled wife indoors to fend for herself. The grapevine was a funny old thing and there wasn’t much went on that didn’t reach his ears.

Eddie knelt down and moved his face inches away from the man. ‘Now listen to me and listen very carefully. I’ll waive the money you owe me, on one condition.’

‘What? I’ll do anything, I promise,’ the man said.

‘I want you to look after your wife properly. If I hear that you’ve left her sitting in her own piss and shit for hours while you’re larging it in the pub or betting shop, I swear I’ll come back and personally fucking cut you to shreds.’

The man started to sob. ‘Thank you Mr Mitchell. You have my word.’

Over in Upney, Joycie Smith was busy showing her friends the new machine that Eddie and Jessica had bought her for her birthday.

Rita crouched down and stared at the object in question. ‘What’s it called again? And what does it do?’

‘I’ve already told you twice. It’s called a video recorder and you can record programmes off the telly and watch them at a later date.’

‘But how can it do that?’ Rita asked, bemused.

‘You have to put a tape inside and pre-set it. I recorded Corrie the other night and I only watched it this morning.’

Hilda looked at her in awe. ‘It’s marvellous, ain’t it? Bleedin’ marvellous.’

Joyce went into her peacock mode. She could almost feel her feathers spreading out like a fan. ‘It’s modern technology, ain’t it? Because Jessica and Eddie are so wealthy now, they know all about these things before anybody else does. You should see their new house – like a palace, it is.’

Hilda and Rita glanced at one another. They wouldn’t upset Joycie for the world, but they’d already heard about Jessica’s new house a thousand times before. So much so, the pair of them felt that they knew every tile, carpet and room inside out.

‘Cooking a posh dinner tonight, my Jess is. All the family will be there. Me and Stan could have done without it, but Eddie adores us, insists that we come,’ Joyce lied.

Bored as arseholes, Hilda furtively nudged her friend. Rita quickly clocked on and cleverly changed the subject.

‘Where is your Stan? We haven’t seen him for ages. My Arthur said he rarely goes down the bookie’s any more.’

Joyce sighed. ‘Out the back with them bleedin’ pigeons of his. Thinks more of them birds than he does of me. Keeps talking about getting himself a new cock.’

Hilda and Rita roared with laughter. Eddie had bought Stanley his first racing pigeon a couple of years back and he’d been hooked from day one. Joyce had hated his new hobby from the word go, but had put up with it because it was Eddie’s idea.

‘Dirty bastard things they are. Full of shit me garden is and I’m sure it’s them that’s killed me roses,’ Joyce moaned.

Rita smiled politely. ‘Well, I suppose it gives Stanley an interest. The only interest my Arthur’s got is the pub and the horses,’ she moaned.

‘Maybe you’re right. My Stanley don’t even bother going to the pub that much any more,’ Joyce said proudly, knowing full well that Rita’s Arthur was a borderline alcoholic.

Glancing at the clock, Joyce realised the time was getting on. ‘Please don’t think I’m being rude, but I’m gonna have to start sprucing meself up in a minute. Jess’s mansion is in the country and it takes us about half-hour to get there. She’s expecting us at seven, so I’d best get me skates on.’

Rita and Hilda immediately stood up. Talk about outstaying your welcome, they both thought.

‘Thanks for the tea and cake. See you soon, Joycie,’ Hilda said.

Joyce did her queen wave at the door. ‘Don’t forget, anything you want to watch, come and see me and I’ll record it for you.’

Slamming the front door, Joyce marched into the back garden. ‘Stanley, stop cuddling your cock and get yourself bathed and changed.’

‘Just give me ten minutes, dear, and I’ll be with you,’ Stanley said.

‘No, Stanley. Put your cock away now, pronto.’

EIGHT

‘SO WHEN IS that cheeky old cunt gonna pay up then?’ Ronny asked Eddie.

Eddie pulled into the pub car park. ‘Next week. I’ll go round and collect it myself,’ he lied.

‘Ain’t you coming in for a quickie?’ Paulie asked him.

Eddie shook his head. ‘Got the in-laws coming round for dinner. I promised Jess I’d be home early.’

Eddie sighed as his two brothers walked away. He daren’t tell Paulie and Ronny that he’d just wiped the geezer’s debt. They wouldn’t understand his reasons, they’d think he’d lost his marbles. It was only a monkey and Ed would rather ensure that the disabled wife was properly cared for than worry about a pittance.

Financially, Eddie was doing very nicely indeed and five hundred quid was no more than loose change to him. It hadn’t always been plain sailing. When his dad had first retired and handed him the reins a few years back, he’d worked his plums off to get where he was now.

Becoming a loan shark had never entered Eddie’s mind, but with the pub protection game becoming harder than ever, he’d sort of fallen into it by accident. A chance meeting with an old pal of his, who was coining it in, had put the idea in his head. Obviously, he’d consulted his father first. Although Harry had retired by then, Eddie still looked to him as head of the family and respected his wisdom.

Within months of becoming a loan shark, business was booming. They lent to any bastard they could. Businessmen, builders, milkmen, dustmen: as long as they could afford their weekly repayments and agreed to the hefty interest charges, they could borrow.

With the Mitchells’ reputation, the majority of their clients paid up on time, and it was an easy life compared to smashing up boozers. There were the odd one or two who needed time to pay, or a couple of clever dicks who tried to knock them, but they always got their dough back eventually. A bullet lodged in the kneecap or the odd finger chopped off always seemed to do the trick and, like magic, their money would reappear within days. ‘Abrafuckingcadabra,’ Eddie would say, laughing his head off.

Both Paulie and Ronny had had their noses put out of joint when their father had retired and insisted on Eddie taking control. But their whingeing fell on deaf ears.

‘I make the decisions in this fucking family and if I decide that Eddie’s the man to take over, then that’s how it’s gonna be. If yous two don’t like it, tough shit – you know what you can do,’ their dad told them bluntly.

Eddie could sense the resentment, especially Ronny’s, at the way things had turned out. Eddie was the baby of the family and should have been bottom of the pecking order. Now a couple of years on, all was forgiven. Eddie’s loan-shark idea had turned up trumps and made him and his brothers very wealthy indeed. They still did a bit of pub protection here and there, but a lot of boozers had been bought by bigger breweries, so they just stuck with their remaining handful of privately owned ones. Uncle Reg was still working with them but, due to health problems, was on the verge of retiring. His walking was giving him gyp, and he was waiting to see a specialist. The poor old sod could barely get about any more and he certainly didn’t need the money, as he’d earned plenty over the years.

‘Uncle Reg wants to pack it in, so I think we need to take someone else on,’ Eddie had told his brothers only yesterday.

‘We don’t need anybody else. The three of us is more than enough,’ Ronny insisted.

Eddie disagreed. They needed a bit of young blood and he had just the right person in mind. All Ronny was worried about was his wallet. He was a greedy bastard and wouldn’t want to share out any of his profits. Ronny had recently bought a house and moved in with Sharon, and all he did was brag about paying cash for it.

The Mitchell family still owned the salvage yard in Dagenham, but Harry had now sold off all the others. He’d made a handsome bit of dough on a couple of them. He’d flogged two to property developers and had come out with well over a million in profit.

Eddie put his foot down as he hit the A13. He’d recently treated himself to a Porsche 911 and loved the fact that its turbo engine left every other car on the road standing. He turned off at Barking and headed towards his old address. When he and Jessica had moved out, he’d allowed his ex, Beverley, and his two boys to move in. Gary and Ricky were now fourteen and twelve and had both been expelled from two schools in Canning Town, where they’d previously been living. Neither were particularly bad lads, but it had hit them hard when Eddie had left home. Without a man around they were forever getting into scrapes and fights, and trouble seemed to follow them.

Beverley had been an awkward bitch to deal with when Eddie had first remarried. She had stopped the boys going to the wedding, and many a time she had cancelled arrangements when Ed was supposed to be having them for the weekend.

Eddie had wanted to kill her with his bare hands on many occasions, but in the end he’d done the sensible thing and hit her where it hurt. ‘I’ve got a right to see my boys every weekend and take ’em away in the summer. You’ll not get another penny out of me, Bev, until you agree to my terms,’ he’d told her.

It had almost killed him knowing that his kids were going without, but he had to be cruel to be kind. Bev held out for two months, then one day turned up in the Flag begging for money and forgiveness. Eddie had had regular contact with his boys ever since. He kept to his word and always saw Bev all right. Most of the money he gave her, she spunked on alcohol and takeaways. She’d only been eight stone when he’d first met her and now she weighed eighteen.

Eddie pulled up outside his old house. He always picked the boys up on a Friday and took them back home on the Sunday. They were doing much better at school since they’d moved to Barking and they loved spending their weekends at his new house.

‘You got all your stuff? Where’s your mother?’ Eddie asked them.

‘She’s drunk. She’s been drinking cider all day and she’s asleep on the sofa,’ Ricky said, giggling.

Eddie ordered the boys to go and sit in the car. Annoyed, he marched in the house and woke Beverley up.

‘Whaddya want?’ she asked, bleary-eyed.

‘There’s your money,’ Eddie said, throwing an envelope at her. ‘Look at the state of yourself, Bev. No wonder them boys have got problems, seeing you like this every day.’

Beverley sat up. ‘I do my best. Anyway, what do you care? All you’re bothered about is the wonderful fucking Jessica and your twins.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t be letting you live here rent free if I weren’t fucking bothered. Drop the bitter act, Bev, it don’t suit you, love, and take my advice – sort yourself out before it’s too late.’

Beverley burst into tears. She knew she’d let herself go and didn’t need Ed to tell her. ‘Go on, fuck off home to your other family and leave me alone!’ she screamed.

Eddie stormed out and slammed the front door. There was no reasoning with Bev when she was pissed, so he might as well save his breath.

‘Can we go in the swimming pool when we get there, Dad?’ Gary asked.

‘Not tonight, son. We’ve got guests coming over for dinner, but you can muck about in there all day tomorrow, if you want.’

Eddie smiled as he listened to the boys gabble away in the back. Since he’d married Jess he’d turned into a proper family man. He loved nothing more than spending his weekends with his beautiful wife and children. Over seven years they’d been married now, and he’d never so much as looked at another woman in that time. Marrying Jessica was one of the best decisions Ed had ever made and he worshipped the ground that she walked on. Like any other couple, they had their rows. Eddie knew he could be a Victorian bastard at times and, overall, Jessica suffered him well.

‘Look, Dad. That house you always tell us to look at has got a sold sign up.’

Wondering if Gary had got it wrong, Ed swung the Porsche around and drove back to be nosy. ‘Fuck me, you’re right son,’ he said mystified.

The house in question was a beauty and, unlike his own, had needed nothing doing to it at all. Eddie had tried to buy the place himself. He had viewed it, but the price was way over the top. The owner lived abroad and wanted well over a quarter of a million for it. Ed had tried to barter with him, but the geezer was having none of it. The house had much more ground than the one Eddie had bought, at least another couple of acres.

Eddie turned the car back round and sped towards home. That house had been on the market for a couple of years and he was desperate to make a few phone calls, see if he could find out who had finally landed it.

‘What are you doing, Stanley? You’ve done a left, ain’t you meant to have done a right back there?’

Stanley glared at his wife. The only thing she had ever driven in her life was him – bloody mad. ‘I do know where I’m going, dear. I have been here before, remember?’

Recognising certain landmarks, Joyce guessed that for once, her husband was right. ‘Miserable old goat,’ she mouthed to Raymond, who was sitting quietly in the back.

Raymond ignored his mum and stared out of the open window. His parents drove him crazy and he’d taught himself to switch off from them. He felt a bit sorry for his dad sometimes. His mum ruled his old man’s life, but it was his own fault, as he should have put his foot down years ago. Raymond rested his head against the seat. The evening sun and cool breeze felt lovely against his skin. He shut his eyes, deep in thought.

Eddie had rung him earlier at the scrapyard. He’d told him to make sure he definitely came tonight, as he wanted to have a chat with him about work.

‘Don’t worry, you ain’t done nothing wrong. What I’ve got to say is all good,’ Eddie assured him.

Raymond had been employed by Eddie since he was eighteen years old and he’d always worked bloody hard. He had left school at sixteen with medium qualifications and high hopes of getting a record deal with his band. It hadn’t happened and, with his dreams shattered, Raymond had given up his music career and taken on a job as a trainee butcher. From the word go, he hated the job. The smell was disgusting, the sawdust they put on the floor got down his throat and the sight of dead animals turned his guts. Listening to his complaints one day, Eddie had offered him a lifeline.

‘I need someone to work in the salvage yard. I’ll give you the address – go down there first thing Monday morning and ask for Pete. I’ll tell him to expect you.’

Raymond had started work there that day and had never looked back since. He no longer resembled a skinny little rock star. The physical nature of the job had given him muscles he had never known existed. His mother had been embarrassing him lately whenever her friends came round.

‘Look at my Raymond. Six foot tall and built like a brick shithouse, ain’t he?’ she’d say proudly. ‘Nothing like his father.’

‘Left here and then left again, Stanley,’ Joyce yelled, making Raymond jump out of his skin.

Annoyed at yet again being told what to do, Stanley drove the Cortina along his daughter’s drive at speed and then slammed his foot on the brake. Seeing Joyce’s head nearly hit the dashboard, he chuckled as he got out.

‘You silly old bastard, you’ve nearly bloody killed me. I bet I’ve got whiplash now because of you.’

Holding the door open for his wife, Stanley winked at Raymond. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. It’s these new shoes you bought me, my foot must have slipped.’

As Frankie and Joey ran out to greet their nan, Joyce’s whiplash was forgotten.

‘Hello, my babies. Give your nanna a big kiss.’

Joey clung to one of her hands and Frankie the other. ‘Have you brought us any presents, Nanny?’ Frankie asked bluntly.

‘Yep, but you can’t have them till after your dinner.’

Playfully scolding her daughter, Jessica welcomed her family. ‘So lovely to see you all. Cheekier by the day, my Frankie’s getting. Take no notice of her,’ she laughed.

Once inside the house, Joyce took it upon herself to give her husband and son the grand tour. Both of them had seen the house before, but not in its finished state. ‘Look at the downstairs bathroom – marble them tiles are. Handsome, aren’t they?’

Barely giving them a chance to look, Joyce dragged Stanley and Raymond into the lounge. ‘Look at that chandelier, Stanley. Ain’t it beautiful, Raymond? Cost an absolute fortune that did. Pure crystal, it is – ain’t it, Jess?’

Hearing her husband come down from upstairs, Jessica quickly changed the subject. ‘We’re in the lounge. Can you get everybody a drink, Ed?’

Eddie beamed as he kissed Joyce and shook hands with both Stanley and Raymond.

‘Sorry, I was on the phone, I didn’t know you’d all arrived. Now, what can I get you?’

‘I’ll just have a lager, Ed,’ Raymond said immediately.

‘Can I have a sherry?’ Joyce asked, with a silly giggle.

Eddie smiled at Stanley. ‘I’ve got a nice twenty-year-old Scotch for me and you to crack open, Stan.’

‘Lovely,’ Stanley said, rubbing his hands together.

‘You don’t want that, Stanley. Scotch is too strong for you. Why don’t you just have a beer?’ Joyce piped up.

‘He’ll be fine having a drop of Scotch, Joyce. Jessica’s made up the guest room for yer. Stan ain’t gotta drive, has he?’ Ed said, sticking up for him.

Not wanting to behave like an old dragon in front of Eddie, Joyce forced a smile. ‘Go on then, but take it easy, Stanley. I don’t want you getting drunk and showing me up, like you have in the past.’

‘Can I sit on your lap, Grandad?’ Joey asked him.

Stanley smiled as his grandson plonked himself on his lap. He loved the twins and prided himself on being a good grandad. He’d often taken them out for days with Joyce. They’d go for picnics, trips to the zoo and he’d teach them how to fly his pigeons.

It was just after the twins were born that Stanley had decided to make an effort with Eddie. Joyce had dragged him up the hospital and, as soon as he’d first laid eyes on Frankie and Joey, he’d gone all gooey, into grandad mode. Not wanting to miss out on their childhood, he’d had little choice other than to be polite to their father. It was hard at first, but over the years, he’d sort of got used to it.

As much as Stanley hated to admit it, Eddie did have some good points. He always stuck up for Stan when Joyce put her two penn’orth in, he’d given Raymond a half-decent job and he spent every weekend with Jessica and the children.

‘Cheers, Stan,’ Eddie said, handing him his Scotch.

Stanley thanked Eddie and watched him walk away. He could never go as far as to say he actually liked him or trusted him, but he’d learned to make the best out of a bad situation. Eddie was OK, in a very-small-dose kind of way.

Eddie lifted up Frankie and swung her around above his head. ‘You ain’t heard who’s bought that big white house, have you, Jess?’ he asked.

‘Put me down, Daddy,’ Frankie said giggling.

Jessica smiled at him. ‘What, that massive place down the road here?’

‘Yeah, that’s the one. I’ve just made a few phone calls, but no one knows who’s got it.’

Hearing a commotion out the back, Jessica stood up. ‘I’ll ask down the school, see if anyone knows. Ed, you’d better go out in the garden. Gary and Ricky are fully clothed in that swimming pool, they’re fighting with one another, I think.’

Stanley and Joyce both looked at one another in horror. They didn’t agree on much in life, but the one thing they both thought was what uncontrollable, rude little toerags Eddie’s eldest sons were.

‘I’m just gonna check on the meat,’ Jessica said brightly.

Joyce stood up and looked out the back. ‘I didn’t know them little bastards were gonna be here,’ she said to Stan.

Frankie smiled. ‘What is a bastard, Nanny?’

Stanley stood up and picked up his granddaughter. ‘Basket, Frankie. Nanny said she didn’t know Mummy had a basket here.’

Hearing the voices of Gary and Ricky, Stanley handed Frankie to Joyce. ‘I dunno about you Joycie, but I most certainly need another drink.’

Joyce smiled with rare affection at her husband. ‘Me too, and make it a large one, Stanley.’

NINE

EDDIE CARVED UP the roast beef, while his wife brought in the side dishes.

‘I’ll just serve up a little plate for Frankie and Joey and the rest of yous can help yourselves,’ Jessica said.

Making sure everybody had enough meat on their plates, Eddie opened a couple of bottles of wine. ‘Who wants red and who wants white?’ he asked.

‘I’ll have red, but just a small one,’ Joyce giggled. She’d already had three glasses of sherry and was feeling a little bit tipsy.

‘Can me and Gary have a drop of wine, Dad?’ Ricky asked innocently.

Still annoyed with his sons for arsing about in the swimming pool when he’d blatantly told them not to, Eddie glared at his middle son. ‘No, you can’t, and don’t be so bloody cheeky.’

Ricky scowled and nudged his brother. ‘Mum lets us have a drink indoors, don’t she, Gary?’

‘Well, I’m not your mother and you’re not indoors now. You’re in my house and you abide by my rules. As for your mother letting you drink alcohol, I’ll be having a little word with her about that. Now, shut up the pair of you and eat your fucking dinner.’

Desperate to change the subject, Jessica picked up one of the dishes. ‘More roast potatoes anyone?’ she asked.

‘I’ll have some, sis,’ Raymond said, grinning.

Joyce pointed towards Stanley. ‘Your father will have a couple more as well,’ she told Jess.

As the potatoes were put on his plate, Stanley looked up in amazement. He had obviously spoken without him moving his mouth.

Joey slid off his chair. ‘Don’t want no more, Mummy.’

Jessica looked at his plate. He’d barely touched a morsel. She knew she shouldn’t have let him eat that ice cream he’d pleaded for earlier.

‘Try and eat some more, darling, see if you can eat as much as your sister.’

Joey shook his head. ‘I don’t feel well, I got tummy-ache,’ he lied.

Eddie shook his head as his youngest son left the table. All of his kids were good eaters, bar Joey, who was a finicky little waif. ‘He’ll be ill, that kid, if he don’t start eating more. You wanna get him up the doctor’s, find out what’s wrong with him,’ Eddie told Jess.

Jessica shrugged. ‘He’s OK, he’s just fussy, that’s all. He wasn’t well earlier, maybe that’s why.’

Frankie smiled as she took her brother’s Yorkshire pudding off his plate. ‘Joey was sick all over Mummy’s new car,’ she said, giggling.

Eddie looked at Jess in horror. ‘He weren’t, was he?’

Jessica stood up and began to clear the dinner plates. ‘It wasn’t his fault, Ed. I forgot to put some bags in there for him. The poor little sod can’t help being travel sick.’

Eddie wanted to say plenty, but instead said nothing. A fortune he’d paid for that Mercedes convertible and already it must smell like a fucking hospital ward.

‘Who wants dessert? I’ve got Black Forest gateau or fresh strawberries and ice cream,’ Jessica asked gaily.

‘I’ll have some strawberries, love,’ Stanley replied.

Joyce snatched the empty dish out of his hand. ‘No, he won’t. Fruit gives him terrible wind and I’ve got to sleep next to him tonight,’ she told Jess.

Eddie burst out laughing. How poor old Stanley put up with Joyce, he would never know. He stood up. ‘Come on Stan, I’ll take you outside and show you me new car. We can go for a quick spin in it if you like?’

Stanley grinned. He’d always been a Ford man himself, believed in buying the best of British, but he wouldn’t say no to a ride in that Porsche. Apart from his pigeons and horse racing, cars were his only other real passion. He leaped up from the dining table. ‘I’m ready when you are, Ed.’

‘You coming with us, Ray?’ Eddie asked.

‘No, Uncle Raymond. We want you to see Milky the Cow,’ Frankie said, with her hands on her hips.

‘Please don’t go, Uncle Raymond,’ Joey begged.

With two pairs of pleading eyes desperate for his company, Raymond decided to stay put.

‘We’ll have that chat when I get back,’ Eddie told him.

Stanley followed Eddie out of the front door. ‘What were the kids on about? Have you got a cow out the back?’

Eddie started to laugh. Stan didn’t have a clue, bless his cotton socks. ‘No, course not. They’re talking about their new toys – Milky, the Marvellous Milking Cow. Drove me mad for ’em, they did. All the toy shops had sold out and I spent a whole day driving around looking for ’em. I got two in the end, had to drive all the way to Southend to pick the bastard things up. The things you do for kids, eh?’

Stanley said nothing. Eddie was a good dad, a good husband, but there was still something very sinister about him that Stan couldn’t put his finger on.

Hearing the front door slam, Joyce and Jessica grinned at one another. No words were needed, but both of them were absolutely thrilled that Stanley and Eddie had got over their little differences and become friends.

‘Is it OK if me and Ricky go out the back and play football? We won’t go near the swimming pool, I promise.’

Jessica ruffled Gary’s hair. ‘Of course you can. Mind the flowerbeds, though.’

Joyce helped Jessica take the dirty dishes into the kitchen. ‘I’ll wash up for you, love,’ Joyce insisted.

Jessica giggled. ‘There’s no need, Mum, I’ve got a dishwasher.’

Joyce looked at the metal machine with interest. She’d heard about dishwashers, but had never seen one up close before. ‘You sure it cleans them properly, Jess? I mean, it ain’t like human hands, is it?’

‘Of course it cleans them properly. Now, if you wanna make yourself useful, Mum, pour us both another drink.’

Frankie poked her head around the kitchen door. ‘Grandma, where’s our presents? It’s after dinner now.’

Topping up her glass with sherry, Joyce followed Frankie into the living room. She delved into her big black shopping bag. ‘Here we go. You’ve got a jamboree bag each and me and Grandad clubbed together and bought you both a new toy.’

‘What is it? Can we have it now?’ the twins asked excitedly.

‘Have the jamboree bag now and as soon as Grandad gets back, you can have your toys.’

‘Oh, I want mine now,’ Frankie said, sulking.

‘Do as Nanny says,’ Jessica shouted sternly.

Joey was a polite kid, but her daughter could be a stroppy little cow at times.

Ten minutes later, an ashen-faced Stanley walked back into the house, alone. ‘Jesus Christ, drove like a lunatic, he did. Nearly killed us on that bend down the road there. I think I’m gonna bring me dinner up,’ he moaned.

Raymond got himself a lager and poured his shell-shocked father a large Scotch. ‘Eddie always drives fast. Get that down your neck, you’ll be fine,’ he told his dad.

As Stanley ran to the toilet and retched, Eddie was still sat in the car, laughing. Watching Stanley leap out looking like death warmed up and then stagger up the drive was one of the funniest things he’d ever seen. He knew deep down that Stanley only suffered him for the sake of the kids and driving like a maniac was payback time. Picturing Stan’s face when he’d hit that bend, Eddie had to hold his bollocks to stop himself pissing on the seat. With his hand still clutched around his privates, Eddie walked towards the house. Unable to keep a straight face, he tried to think of something else.

‘Dad feels ill – did you have to drive like a nutcase? He’s just brought all his dinner up,’ Jessica said angrily.

‘Gotta go a loo,’ Eddie said, running upstairs.

Locking the bathroom door, Eddie put his hand over his mouth. Stanley spewing his guts up had tipped him over the edge and, instead of just having the giggles, he was now on the verge of hysterics.

‘Can we have our toys now?’ Frankie asked impatiently.

‘Grandad will give them to you,’ Joyce said, handing them to her husband as he walked back into the room. Poor Stanley looked so ill, she wanted to lighten him up a bit. Remembering that he’d earlier jolted the car and nearly broken her neck, she quickly snatched them back from him.

‘Nanny chose them so,on second thoughts, Nanny should give them to you,’ she told the twins.

Having managed finally to compose himself, Eddie nodded to Raymond to follow him outside. ‘Do you wanna cigar?’ he asked him.

Raymond shook his head. ‘No thanks, I’ll have a fag.’

Staring at Raymond, Eddie put both hands on his shoulders and spoke in earnest. ‘When I first gave you a job, Ray, I sort of did it for Jessica’s sake. You were just a kid, her little brother, and I must admit, although I liked you, I had me doubts. Over the years you’ve proved me wrong. You’ve been honest, loyal, a real top-class employee. The thing is, Raymond, you’re not a boy any more, you’re now a man and that is why I want to offer you a handshake, a proper in.’

Raymond nodded. He’d learned to understand Eddie’s lingo over the years and he knew exactly where the conversation was going.

Eddie smiled at him. ‘My Uncle Reg is on the verge of retiring. We need another pair of hands and I want you to join the family properly. You’re gonna be working with me, Paulie and Ronny. You’re no fool, you know the set-up. What’s your opinion on that?’

Unbeknown to Eddie, Raymond had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Unable to control his emotions, he grabbed the big man and hugged him.

‘I’m honoured, Eddie, and I promise you faithfully that I will do you proud.’

Laughing, Eddie pushed him away and squared up to him. ‘You’d better do me proud,’ he said, as he lunged into a bit of play-fighting.

Gently pushing Raymond away, Eddie put his serious head on, once more. ‘You won’t be a gofer. You’ll have a three-month trial, then you’ll be on virtually the same cut as Paulie and Ronny are.’

Raymond could scarcely believe his luck. He’d prayed for this day to happen and now it finally had. He could move out of his parents’, buy his own property. If he played his cards right, the world could be his oyster. ‘Thanks, Eddie. I’ll do whatever you ask of me and I truly mean that.’

Eddie nodded. ‘Good lad. Now, a few ground rules. You don’t say a word to anyone about anything we do. Birds, mates, family – not a soul. If anyone asks, you’re a debt collector.’

Raymond nodded. He understood perfectly.

Deep in thought, Eddie tilted his head. ‘I think it’s probably for the best that I lend you some dough and you get your own place. If any shit hits the fan, you don’t want your parents involved, do you?’

‘I’ve been wanting to leave home for ages anyway. I think the world of me mum and dad, but they do me head in,’ Raymond said frankly.

‘First thing on Monday, Ray, I’m gonna take you out, rent you somewhere and get you kitted out as well. Remember one golden rule: a man is always judged on what he wears. You’ve always got to look the part, wear good clobber. We’ll go up Savile Row and get you a couple of suits from there.’

‘Daddy, what are you doing out here? I want you to see my new toy.’

Eddie picked up Frankie and held her in his left arm. He held his right out to Raymond. ‘Welcome to the family, son.’

After a couple more Scotches, Stanley’s stomach had settled and he was now on the floor playing with the twins.

‘What you got, then? What’s Nanny and Grandad brought you?’ Eddie said, kneeling down.

‘I’ve got a Madame Alexander doll, and Joey’s got a Tonka truck,’ Frankie said proudly.

Eddie admired their gifts and, noticing Gary and Ricky sitting alone, he stood up and walked towards them. ‘You all right, boys?’

‘I’m OK,’ Gary said.

‘Me too,’ said Ricky.

Eddie sat in between them and put an arm around each of them. He’d had the hump earlier when he couldn’t find out who had brought the poxy house he’d wanted and he shouldn’t have taken it out on them for having a dip. ‘Sorry for shouting at you earlier. Listen, I’ll do you a deal. Go and pour your old dad a drink and you can both have a can of lager.’

Gary smiled. ‘Can we really?’

‘Just the one, mind. Now move your arses, ’cause Daddy’s thirsty.’

Eddie felt a pang of guilt as they ran excitedly from the room. They must feel left out sometimes with all the attention showered upon the twins. The poor little sods didn’t have much of a home life and they were good kids at heart.

‘Christ, you must have poured half the bottle in there,’ Ed said to Gary, as he was handed a full glass of Scotch.

Urging the boys to sit down next to him, he told them about his plans for the following weekend. ‘Grandad Harry is organising a surprise party for your Uncle Reg to celebrate his retirement, so we’re going to that on Friday, and you know Pat Murphy who owns that old converted farmhouse not far from here?’

Ricky looked bemused, but Gary nodded. ‘Is that the man you took us to see, he used to be a boxer?’

‘Yep, that’s the one. Well, every year he has this big bank-holiday party, where he invites all his family, all his mates and the neighbours. Well, as we’re neighbours now, we’ve got an invite. I’ve never been before, but it’s meant to be the bollocks. He has everything there, rides for the kids, a boxing ring, there’s a barbecue, a disco. It’s next Sunday, so do yous boys fancy it?’

‘Yeah. Can I have a go at the boxing?’ Gary asked.

‘Me too. I wanna box as well,’ Ricky said.

Eddie gently banged their heads together. ‘Only if you behave yourselves in between.’

‘We will, we promise,’ they both said.

Gary and Ricky both loved boxing. Eddie had sent them up to Peacock Gym in Canning Town at quite a young age and they were both good little prospects, according to their trainer.

Hyped up, Gary and Ricky went out the back to practise their sparring.

‘What party’s that, then?’ Jessica asked, sitting down next to Eddie.

‘Pat Murphy’s. The kids will love it. He has clowns, all sorts of entertainment for them, it’ll give you a chance to meet some of the other wives as well. Next Sunday, it is.’

Jessica squeezed his hand. He was such a softie, her Ed. A real family man. ‘It sounds wonderful. Roll on next week,’ she said, kissing him gently.

‘Mum, Dad, Joey won’t give me my new doll back,’ Frankie whinged.

Seeing his son cradle the doll, Eddie bent down and snatched it away from him. ‘The Tonka truck’s yours. Boys don’t play with dolls, Joey.’

Lip trembling, Joey looked at his father. ‘Sorry, Daddy.’

Eddie put on some music and the rest of the evening swam by.

‘Do you want my body, am I really sexy?’ Joyce sang, getting all Rod Stewart’s lyrics wrong.

Aware that she was pointing at him, Stanley turned his back. ‘Don’t start all that, Joycie, will yer?’

Not used to drinking large amounts of alcohol, Joyce felt her legs go from under her. ‘Oh dear, I think I’m drunk,’ she said, as she clung on to the sofa for dear life.

‘Are you OK, Mum?’ Jessica said, helping her up.

‘Yes, dear. Actually, I feel wonderful.’

Embarrassed, as he’d never witnessed either of his parents so pissed before, Raymond jumped into action. ‘I think we should all call it a night now and get some shut-eye. Give me a hand, Dad, to help Mum up the stairs.’

Used to being told what to do, Stanley jumped to order. ‘Goodnight all,’ he yawned.

Eddie winked at Raymond. ‘I hope the sofa’s comfortable enough for ya. I’ll put the kids to bed and we’ll speak again in the morning,’ he said.

The twins were crashed out on the floor, so Jessica lifted up Joey and Eddie grabbed Frankie. ‘Where’s Gary and Ricky?’ she asked.

Eddie laughed. ‘I told ’em they could have one can of lager and I’m sure the little bastards had about three. I had to help them into bed about an hour ago. I put ’em in Joey’s room.’

Jessica giggled. It had been their first proper get-together in their new home and she had loved every single minute of it.

Whether it was due to the amount of sherry she’d drunk, Joyce wasn’t sure, but for the first time in years, she felt amorous. ‘Stanley, wake up,’ she said, poking her husband in the ribs.

Receiving no response, she moved her hand around a bit. ‘Stanley,’ she said seductively.

Aware of a hand around his cobblers, Stanley jumped up like a bush kangaroo. ‘What the fuck! What are you doing, woman? Have you gone mad?’

Jessica just happened to be passing the guest room as her father bolted out in his Y-fronts.

‘Whatever’s the matter?’ she asked, noticing his shocked expression.

Stanley held his hand over his parcel. ‘It’s your mother – she’s having a funny turn.’

‘What, is she ill?’ Jessica said, panicking.

‘No, not that kind of funny turn,’ Stanley said, embarrassed.

Realising what had happened, Eddie grabbed Jessica and dragged her into their bedroom. Hysterical, he could barely speak for laughing.

‘Your mother’s after a bunk-up.’

‘Oh, don’t say that,’ Jessica said, mortified.

Hearing raised voices, Jessica poked her head around the bedroom door.

‘I mean it, Joycie, if you touch me again in that way, I’ll go and sleep downstairs in the armchair,’ she heard her father say.

Hand over her mouth, Jessica stood in stupefied shock. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said to Eddie.

Unable to stop laughing, Eddie grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. ‘You are so naive, Jessica Mitchell, and do you know what? I fucking well love you for it.’

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