The Take (30 page)

All she heard these days was how he had popped in to see Jimmy, and how Maggie had made him coffee or a sandwich, and how
well
she looked, how
lovely
she was. How
nice
she kept the house. Each compliment was said in a nice conversational way. No one listening would realise that he was on a love job, and each compliment stabbed her like a hot knife because she knew that he wanted Maggie.

In Jackie's mind, most of the women in their world wanted a Freddie, so it stood to reason that Maggie with her safe life and her boring husband would want him too. In her darker, more honest and sober moments she brushed these feelings away, knowing they were stupid and completely unfounded. She loved Maggie, and she knew that Maggie was probably the only person who genuinely loved her, the only person she could really trust.

She knew she had treated Maggie like shit over the years. She had put everyone else above her little sister, she had borrowed money off her, and then she had run her down, often to people who she knew were doing the exact same thing to her. Justifying their own existences. Who, like her, could not comprehend a woman in their world who seemed to have it all sussed, who was happy with herself, and who was with a man who was not trying it on with any woman with a pulse or a social security book.

Jackie trusted people who she knew in her heart had no real regard for her, were not really
friends
. They were disloyal, they were all without jobs, lives or any kind of structure to their days, but what they did have going for them was that they were
like
her.

They were aimless, and full of their own self-importance. They relied on the men in their lives for their self-esteem, and they had no real concept of friendship or honour. Most of her so-called mates were only still friendly because they knew too much about one another and they were frightened to fall out in case the loose lips and two-faced talk suddenly became about them and their lives.

Maggie had once said, in a rare moment of anger, 'At least with my friends I ain't afraid to be the first to leave.'

That had hurt Jackie, because she knew that it was true. As soon as one of her cronies left her house she was pulled to pieces, run down shamelessly and spoken about as if she was a dire enemy. It was their way, and Jackie knew that she was saved from the worst of that treatment because her old man was a nut nut.

So she was a big fish on their estate, and she revelled in the fact she was more or less safe from it all. She also joked about Freddie, ridiculed him, and that made her an important part of their infrastructure. Jackie was the pivot that their world needed to turn on, she was a friend by association with most of her estate. If Freddie ever dumped her she would be finished. She knew it and
they
all knew it, and if it did happen no one would be more thrilled than her 'best mates'.

Jackie was the main wife, and she told her friends how her sister Maggie was stuck up her own arse, and, because she had a few quid, acted like she was some kind of fucking celebrity. She also pointed out that her Freddie earned good wedge, but unlike her little sister she knew where she came from and did not feel the need to rub her good fortune in everyone's faces. Or leave her roots.

She felt awful at times because of what she said, but she still said it. Especially when her husband was in earshot, though never when her mother was in the vicinity. Lena would scalp her for it.

Her girls held it against her and all. They loved Mags, they thought she was the dog's knob, and this just made Jackie feel more angry and more resolute about putting her in her place.
She
was the one who should be looked up to, and
Maggie
had looked up to her once. And she still should,
she
was the elder sister,
she
should have her sister's respect for that alone.

Every now and again the total disloyalty she showed towards the woman who made sure she had money, who made sure she was OK, who made sure her hair was done and her clothes were half decent, overwhelmed her.

Maggie, she knew, had actually fought with people who had even remotely criticised her. Maggie never slagged her off, she just tried talking to her about her so-called drink problem, and about Little Freddie's carrying on. Unlike everyone else she had always tried to defend her on the one hand, while helping her in a positive way on the other. And Maggie, as little as she was, could have a row, a real row, a punch up if it was called for. Jackie knew that she was a fighter because of her personality while Maggie only ever fought because of a principle or because it was a last resort. And when Maggie did have a row, she was like a fucking maniac. And Maggie had fronted up enough people over her through the years, that Jackie knew she should do the same for her.

But Maggie was also the thorn in her side. Every time she looked at her she saw her own wasted life, saw her own youth that she had stupidly let pass her by with pregnancy and a penchant for self-destruction. More to the point, she now saw her only chance of happiness with her husband slipping away from her.

Because if Freddie
wanted
her little sister she could not compete, and whether Maggie wanted him back did not really matter any more. He wanted her, and that was enough for Jackie.

When she looked at Mags, she saw a young woman with a good job, a business head, a good marriage to a man who adored her and worst of all, someone her own children as well as her husband thought was far superior to her.

Maggie was everything she wanted to be, and for that alone, she could never forgive her.

'Let it go, Glenford. I am just tired, that's all. The bloke we hired from Amsterdam is turning out gear like he is a fucking limited company. And we have sewn up the market, and, you know what, we stand to make a fucking fortune.'

Glenford grinned, but he wasn't happy. He knew all this, he didn't need his friend to keep on repeating it.

He skinned up again. This time he made a twist, the Jamaican joint. This was when the papers were wrapped around a piece of conical wood and then, once the papers were removed, filled with just grass or in this case skunk. Once lit, it went up like a bonfire and then it burned lazily, and a few tokes could lay out Mike Tyson.

When it was offered to him Jimmy shook his head and said gently, 'Oh no, mate, I have to get home soon.'

He knew he was stoned out of his box, and there was no way he was driving anywhere. He would have to cab it and then pick his car up the next day.

'How's Maggie?'

Glenford had the throaty, deep rasp of a stoned Rasta, and this made Jimmy laugh. Beenie Man came on the sound system, and he lay back and listened to him intently. 'She's all right.'

Glenford shrugged and toked deeply once more. 'She looks troubled, and so do you. If you want to tell me what is the problem, you know that I will keep it quiet and within these four walls.'

Jimmy already knew that and he smiled his thanks but he didn't say anything.

Eventually, Glenford spoke again. 'You are a damn fool, boy. When me and Clarice were waging war, I keep it to meself. She living now with a white boy with a proper job, and me kids talk like fucking bankers. And now there's me with me little girl, and she lovely, but me Clarice, she the one, the only one me really interested in. But I fucked it big time, and I accepted that in the end. They go peculiar you know, it's the life we live, the uncertainty, the whole concept of the criminal lifestyle. It wear the decent women down, they want serious security, and them want the arms they loving around them every night. Well, she got that now, she got what she wanted, but I know deep in here—' he banged his fist against his chest — 'she would rather my arms than the blue-eyed fucker she got now. But you see, with decent women, they do what's best for them in the end, or in her case what was best for the kids. My kids, and I respect that, and him a good man, she whiter than him, she a natural blonde, collar and cuffs, if you know what me saying. But he love my kids and they got one of they own now, but I know one day, she will come back, when I am out of this life and retired.'

He took another deep toke on his newly lit twist and then he laughed even as he said seriously, 'You see, Jimmy boy, if me don't believe that, me life not worth it, is it?'

Jimmy looked at his friend and smiled, and they both knew that this was the final piece of their friendship falling into place. Neither had ever really trusted anyone with their deepest feelings before, but now they were willing to do just that.

'She ain't right, Glenford. She has become like a different person. Her nerves are so bad, every knock at the door she jumps, it's like she is waiting for something, but she won't tell me what.'

Glenford shook his head as if he understood perfectly. 'That's what me trying to tell you, it's the life, boy. They get to an age and a state of mind, and they frightened of the consequences of our chosen professions.'

Jimmy pondered his words for a while, then said sadly, 'Nah, it ain't that, Glenford. We are legal, mate, and if I get a capture it's through a grass. This goes deeper. Something's happened to her and I can't get to the bottom of it. I don't know what to do, and I try and make her talk to me and she goes into one.'

Glenford was suddenly alert. Unlike Jimmy he had the knack of shaking off even the most severe of stoneds. Not an easy feat by anyone's standard. 'What could have happened to her?'

Jimmy sighed. 'I don't know, but I'll find out. It started when I went to Glasgow, and she ain't been the same since.'

Glenford was silent, but his mind was now working fifty to the dozen. He was a great believer in never saying anything to anyone until you had all the facts. He was annoyed now for getting so stoned, because something Jimmy just said had struck a chord with him. But he was gone and he knew this was too important to try and suss out now. So he got up from his chair unsteadily and did what he always did when he was rocking and he needed to remember something.

He went to his kitchen and he wrote it down in his notebook.

Then he got two more cans of Red Stripe, returned to the lounge and sat with his friend and buzzed happily.

'Come on, Maggie, we're all waiting for you!'

Dianna's voice was loud in the salon and everyone automatically turned towards it. Dianna knew that would be the case and she winked at Kimberley as Maggie finally emerged from her office.

This salon in Chingford, Essex, was the biggest of them all, and it was Maggie's baby. The girls, like Maggie, knew that this was the forerunner to the others now. It had worked so well that she was now investing a lot of money to bring the others up to spec. It not only had the hairdressing salon, it had sun beds, a nail parlour, and they were also offering waxing — legs, eyebrows and bikini, anything that was required. It offered facials, Reiki, massage and even a slimming clinic once a month where a doctor prescribed anything the clients needed.

It was a goldmine.

Maggie offered wine, spritzers, frappés and cappuccinos. She also let her customers snort to their hearts' content in her toilets, as long as they did it discreetly.

It was, to all intents and purposes, the place to be.

Dianna and Kimberley were now there all the time, Kim as a hairdresser, along with her college course in beauty, and Dianna as a trainee.

But Maggie was not her usual self, and they were determined to get her out of her shell today if it killed them.

Maggie wanted them there not just because she loved them, which she did, but also because they kept Freddie away. He was nervous of his girls, who had sussed him out at a very young age. They loved him in a haphazard, 'Oh, he is me dad, and what can I do about it?' kind of way. But Maggie knew that he loved them, and like he loved any woman in his orbit, he owned them. She also believed that he would be frightened of them knowing about what had happened. Unlike their mother, they would be inclined to believe her side of the story.

She had been a big part of their lives for so long. They knew her so well and they trusted her. They respected her, and their father had destroyed her.

Now as she looked around her, saw the busy salon bustling with people, pumping out loud music and coining in money, she felt the urge to scream.

'Come on, Maggie. Everyone keeps asking where you are lately, we can't keep telling them you're doing the books, can we?'

She looked into Kimberley's face, and, as had been the case since the girl had hit her teens, she saw herself. Kimberley looked like her, she could see it plain as anything and people remarked about it. She had her father's darkness, his dark hair and his sallow skin, but she had Maggie's fine bone structure that was at odds with Jackie's heaviness.

The thought of Jackie sent her heart racing.

'All right, Mags, long time no see. You sick or something, girl? You look dog rough!'

Maggie smiled widely at the woman who'd spoken. She was sitting there all tanned skin and streaked hair, having a manicure and a pedicure in the new and expensive black leather pedicure chair, with its own heated little foot bath, and its own drink holder, and once more Maggie wanted to scream. To tell this woman what a vacuous prat she was, how she loathed her selfish existence like she loathed the men like Freddie, because a lot of these women were with Freddie wannabes. Were with men who would shag a table leg if it was available, and who would not even have the decency or the sense to wear a condom. She knew women in this salon who had been given everything from a dose of clap to herpes from a foray their men had made to Thailand. Suddenly, all the gossip was like the Old Testament to her, like some kind of revelation. It showed her life and what it had become because she had once tried to save her sister's sanity, and tried to make her marriage whole. Look what it had got her.

She felt an urge to tell everyone to fuck off, but she didn't, she had taken to doing all her swearing in her head lately. It eased her somehow, but she was not sure for how long it would work.