Читать книгу The Feud - Kimberley Chambers - Страница 13

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.’