Читать книгу The Feud - Kimberley Chambers - Страница 14

‘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.’