The Traitor (10 page)

Grinning at Dominic, Joey stood up. Everybody was so happy and jolly, it was perfect timing to give his own speech. ‘I’ve got some news as well. Nan, Grandad, are you listening?’

Joyce was feeling a bit light-headed. It was the first proper drink she’d had since she had fallen ill and the wine had gone straight to her head. Staring at Polly, she was too busy picturing how she would look in a wedding dress to listen to Joey.

Stanley poked her in the arm. ‘Joycie, Joey’s talking to you.’

Snapping out of her trance, Joyce smiled at her grandson. ‘Sorry, darling,’ she said.

‘Well, yesterday I got my first job. I’ll be working as a courier-type of post boy in an office in the City.’

‘That’s fantastic,’ Stanley said proudly.

‘Well done,’ Joyce said, giving him a hug.

Feeling confident, Joey continued. ‘And I’ve got something else to tell everyone.’

‘Go on, don’t keep us waiting,’ Joyce said laughing.

Glancing at Dominic, Joey took a deep breath. ‘Well, you know I’ve been staying at Dominic’s flat?’

Raymond nudged Polly. He sort of knew what was coming next.

‘Spit it out, Joey,’ Stanley urged him.

‘I think it’s time you all knew the truth. Dominic isn’t my friend – he’s my boyfriend.’

Stanley and Joyce glanced at one another. Whatever was the boy trying to say?

‘Whaddya mean, boyfriend?’ Joyce said, frowning.

‘I’m gay, Nan. Dominic and I are a couple like you and Grandad are.’

‘Oh my gawd,’ Joyce said, feeling faint.

Not knowing what to say or do, Stanley stood up. ‘Excuse me. The pigeons need feeding.’

Unaware that her brother had just come out of the closet, Frankie was snuggled up to Jed, discussing baby names. After her earlier outburst, Frankie had enjoyed the rest of the evening. Jed had been really attentive, had got himself showered and then made passionate love to her.

‘What about Rocky? That sounds well cool, Rocky O’Hara,’ Jed suggested.

Frankie screwed her nose up. Girls’ names, they could agree on, but Jed had the most awful taste in boys’ names.

Yawning, Jed shut his eyes. Frankie had got on his nerves today, so he pictured what he’d done to her grandfather and smiled.

‘What you looking so happy about?’ Frankie asked him.

Jed opened his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow. ‘How ’bout if we have a boy, we call it Harry in memory of your grandad? At least then the name’s got meaning.’

Frankie had never been particularly close to her grandfather, so was initially unsure. ‘Harry O’Hara,’ she repeated over and over again.

She smiled at Jed. ‘Actually, I quite like it. It has a certain ring to it.’

Jed winked at her. ‘Well, that’s decided, then. If it’s a boy, Harry O’Hara it is.’

Thrilled by Jed’s thoughtfulness, Frankie kissed him gently.

‘Night, babe,’ Jed said, as he turned the light out.

Picturing Sammy’s face when he told him the choice of name for his unborn child, Jed struggled not to giggle. If Frankie ever found out what he’d done to her grandad, she’d muller him.

There was little chance of that, though. Jed was far too clever for even the Old Bill, let alone some simpleton like Frankie.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Joyce and Stanley sat in silence over the breakfast table. Both were still in shock over Joey’s revelation the previous evening and neither knew what to say to one another.

Knowing that it was usually her job to break the ice, Joyce swallowed the last mouthful of her beans on toast, then broached the subject. ‘We need to talk about Joey, Stanley.’

Stanley threw his knife and fork down onto his plate. ‘I’ve nothing to say going the boy, Joycie.’

Joyce sighed. Her husband could be such a stubborn man at times. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about the situation herself, but she wasn’t going to lose her grandson over it.

As Stanley stood up, Joyce ordered him to sit back down. ‘I need to see to me pigeons, they’ll be starving,’ Stanley said sullenly.

‘Them poxy birds will have to bloody well wait for their grub for once. They eat more than I bleedin’ well do. They’re getting that fat, I’m surprised they can even bastard well fly!’

Stanley sighed as Joyce continued. ‘Now, you listen to me. When you stormed off last night, like you always do in a crisis, our Joey carried on talking. He told me and Raymond that Jessica knew all about his relationship with Dominic. He said that she was happy that he’d found love and she fully supported his sexuality. If that’s the case, and I believe Joey was telling the truth, then we have to support him, too. He’s not a nonce or a murderer, Stanley, he just likes boys rather than girls. If our Jess is looking down, she would want us to accept him for what he is.’

Stanley averted his eyes from his wife. He’d never really known any homosexuals before and the subject made him feel extremely uncomfortable. ‘I know what you’re saying, Joycie, but a bloke fancying a bloke ain’t natural, is it? Can’t you have a chat with Joey, see if you can try and fix him up with a girl or something? I mean, imagine Jock and me mates at the pigeon club finding out? It’s embarrassing.’

Joyce pursed her lips. ‘Ain’t natural, ain’t fucking natural! What about you and them bleedin’ mates of yours? Spend half your life talking about your hens and playing with your cocks. Love them poxy birds more than anything, the lot of yous do, and that ain’t bloody natural. Like it or not, Stanley, I’m gonna support that boy. Joey’s my grandson and I love him dearly.’

Stanley nodded, got up and opened the back door. If Joycie had decided to stand by Joey, he knew he had little choice other than to agree with her decision.

Flanked by a prison guard on either side, Eddie Mitchell walked confidently towards the guvnor’s office. He didn’t know either of the two screws who had summoned him there. As for Johnny and old Fred, Ed still hadn’t seen either of them since yesterday morning.

The taller screw out of the two tapped on the guvnor’s door and shoved Eddie inside.

‘Ah, Mr Mitchell,’ the guvnor said sarcastically.

The guvnor was a lot older and shorter than Eddie had imagined him to be. He had grey, curly hair, was probably in his late fifties and had the look of a judge or a magistrate.

Eddie stood tall, arched his shoulders back and made strong eye contact with him.

‘Yesterday morning, at approximately 7 a.m., your cellmate, Barry Macarthy, was viciously attacked in the shower room. You were seen within the vicinity, Mitchell, so what can you tell me about this unfortunate incident?’

Eddie didn’t flinch as he stared the guvnor straight in the eye. ‘Nothing whatsoever, sir. I do remember seeing Barry Macarthy in the shower room, but I left before him. There was certainly nothing wrong with him while I was there, as I remember hearing him laughing and joking with his mates.’

When the guvnor started to pace up and down the room, Ed knew he had nothing on him. The mug was just fishing, that’s all he was doing.

‘This is a very serious offence, Mitchell. The doctors have already had to remove one of Macarthy’s eyes and at this precise moment they’re desperately trying to save his sight in the other.’

Eddie shrugged. ‘I’ll be honest with you, sir, I was no fan of Barry Macarthy, but what happened to him was nothing to do with me. The best thing you can do is ask him who’s responsible.’

The guvnor eyed him suspiciously. ‘Barry Macarthy was attacked from behind, so he says. Whether that is true, Mitchell, is for him to know and me to find out.’

‘Well, if I hear any rumours, I promise I’ll let you know, sir,’ Eddie said calmly.

As he was led away from the office, Ed wanted to laugh. For blatantly obvious reasons, he suppressed his urge to do so.

Jed O’Hara had been on his best behaviour all morning. Firstly, he had cooked Frankie breakfast and now he’d just suggested that he take a day off work so they could go out and buy some stuff for the baby.

‘Oh Jed, that’s wonderful. If we buy any clothes we’ll have to get white though, won’t we? Shall we look for a cot and a pushchair as well?’ Frankie asked excitedly.

Jed smiled. Frankie might have forgotten about yesterday, but he most certainly hadn’t. He hadn’t been put on this earth to be pushed around by a woman and he wasn’t tolerating Frankie’s demanding ways for much longer. He’d have to play things cleverly, of course. He’d let her think she had him under the thumb, the silly girl.

‘Can you speak to your mum before we go shopping, Jed? You know, to tell her what I said about the cooking lessons and stuff.’

Jed nodded. ‘I’ll go and talk to her now.’

Alice O’Hara was mopping the kitchen floor as her son strolled in. ‘Don’t walk in ’ere with them muddy boots on,’ she screamed at him.

Telling her to put the mop down as he needed to talk to her, Jed removed his boots and gave her a big hug. ‘I need to have a chat with you about Frankie, Mum.’

‘What’s a matter? Is she OK? It ain’t the baby, is it?’ Alice asked, concerned.

Jed shook his head. He loved his mum more than anything and was desperate not to hurt her feelings. ‘It’s just that Frankie’s tired a lot lately. I dunno if she’s up to all these cooking lessons.’

Alice snorted. ‘She’s having a chavvie, not dying of cancer. Anyway, I’m only trying to help her, Jed. She’s one lazy little whore at times.’

Jed decided to try a different tactic. ‘It ain’t just that, Mum. She’s been a bit upset over her mother again. I think she needs time to grieve and stuff, if you know what I mean?’

‘I was only trying to help,’ Alice said, obviously hurt.

Jed smiled. ‘I know you were, Mum, but do me a favour, leave her be for now. Once the baby’s born, she’ll be crying out for your help.’

‘Do you think so? I know it’s a little girl, Jed, I do,’ Alice said excitedly.

Jed laughed. ‘Well if it is, I’m relying on you to bring it up for us, Mum. My Frankie’s only young, she won’t have a clue.’

Watching her son walk away, Alice beamed. Sod the cookery lessons, they meant nothing compared to bringing up a child, especially when that child was a beautiful little girl.

As Jed walked back inside the trailer, Frankie smiled at him.

‘Well?’ she asked expectantly.

‘Sorted. Now why don’t you give your grandparents a ring and tell ’em about the meal next weekend? Don’t forget to tell ’em I’m paying,’ Jed said.

‘I’ll ring me nan tomorrow,’ Frankie said immediately. She wanted to speak to her alone, not with Jed listening to her conversation.

Jed handed her her mobile. ‘I’ve just spoken to me mum for you, so now I want you to ring your grandparents for me.’

Frankie felt awkward as she dialled her old home number. She hadn’t spoken to either her nan or grandad since the night of her mum’s funeral.

It was Joyce who picked up the phone. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said as she heard Frankie’s voice.

‘How are you, Nan?’ Frankie said nervously.

‘I’m fine now, thank you. And to what do we owe this pleasure?’ Joyce asked sarcastically.

Frankie took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry I never visited you in hospital, Nan. I’ve really missed you and Grandad and I was wondering if we could meet up?’

Joyce’s voice softened. ‘That would be nice, Frankie. Have you spoken to your brother today? Has he told you about the house being signed over to me?’

Frankie hadn’t spoken to Joey since yesterday, so had no idea what her nan was on about. ‘What do you mean the house has been signed over?’

Annoyed with herself for presuming that Joey had spoken to Frankie, Joyce explained what had happened. ‘So it was all your dad’s idea, Frankie. But as Raymond told your brother, when anything happens to me and your grandad, you and Joey won’t go short of a few bob. Anyway, forget all that. When are you coming to see us?’

‘Actually, I wasn’t going to come to the house. Jed wants you and Grandad to come out for a meal with us. Jed’s paying, of course. We was thinking maybe next weekend, if that’s OK with you?’

Joyce felt her blood start to boil. In her eyes the little bastard Frankie was with was the cause of Jessica’s death. ‘That won’t be possible, Frankie. Your mother would still be alive if it weren’t for that boy. Me and your grandad want nothing to do with him.’

Frankie looked at her boyfriend. She could sense he knew that the conversation wasn’t going too well and it was her duty to stick up for him. ‘How can you say stuff like that, Nan? It was Dad that murdered Mum, Jed ain’t done nothing wrong.’

As Joyce slammed the phone down on her, Frankie burst into tears.

Jed took his girlfriend in his arms and rocked her from side to side. ‘See what I mean, Frankie? You’ve gotta forget about your family. They’re not nice people and we don’t want our chavvie getting involved with the likes of them, do we? I love you, you know that. I’ll always look after you. You don’t need anybody else.’

Frankie clung to him. Jed was right, her family were no good. Wiping away her tears, Jed kissed her on the nose. ‘What was your nan saying about the house, babe?’

Still snivelling, Frankie shrugged. ‘It’s nothing important. She just said that my dad felt guilty about what had happened, so he signed the house over to my nan. Her and grandad can stay there for ever now, I suppose.’

Jed laughed. ‘You’re so naive, Frankie. That’s your family’s way of erasing you out of their lives. Can’t you see that?’

As Frankie shook her head, Jed continued. ‘They hate you, Frankie. That’s your dad, nan and grandad’s way of telling you to fuck off. It’s obvious they blame me and you for everything, ain’t it?’

‘I suppose so,’ Frankie agreed. She hadn’t really thought of it that way.

‘Now I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that you’ll never contact them arseholes again. I’m not having you upset like this, Frankie, it ain’t good for your pregnancy.’