CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Unaware that his daughter had just been carted off to an Essex police station, Eddie Mitchell was on top form in a West End restaurant. He clicked his fingers at the short, dark-haired foreign waiter with the moustache.
‘Oi, Manuel, bring us another bottle of champagne over, mate.’
Gina giggled and playfully punched Eddie. The waiter really did look like the one out of
Fawlty Towers
, but instead of sharing the joke between themselves, Eddie had to go that extra mile.
‘You’ll get us bloody barred in a minute,’ she scolded him.
Ed held his hands up. ‘I know nothing,’ he said in a mock foreign accent.
Raymond and Polly both burst out laughing. They were like love’s young dream at the moment because Polly had just received confirmation that she was eight weeks pregnant – hence today’s celebration.
Eddie winked at Raymond as ‘Manuel’ topped up their glasses.
‘So, have you told Joycie and Stanley the good news yet?’
Raymond squeezed Polly’s hand. ‘No. We haven’t even told Polly’s mum and dad. We’re desperate not to tempt fate after waiting so long, so we’re gonna get the twelve-week scan out the way before we make any big announcements.’
Eddie tutted with annoyance as his phone started ringing again. He’d told Gary and Ricky that he was busy today and they were making a fucking nuisance of themselves as per usual.
‘Answer it, Ed, it might be urgent,’ Raymond advised him.
Eddie snatched the phone off the table. ‘This had better be important, Gal. What the fuck do you want?’
Gary was not in the best of moods. Stevens, the bent cop they had on their payroll, had contacted him earlier with some disturbing news and he was pissed off that his father had been ignoring his phone calls.
‘Why ain’t you been answering your poxy phone? It
is
bastard well important! Our Frankie’s been arrested. From what I can gather, she’s stuck a knife through Jed.’
DI Blyth was shocked as she walked into the interview room and came face to face with Frankie. Gone was the pretty girl she remembered from her father’s court case and in its place was a bedraggled, pregnant woman with a vacant expression on her face. She had been furious with Frankie for making her a laughing stock at Eddie Mitchell’s trial, but one look at the state of the girl now told her to let bygones be bygones.
‘Hello, Frankie. I’m DI Blyth, do you remember me?’
Frankie stared at her and nodded.
‘That’s good. Now I’ve just been speaking to DC Burkinshaw, who tells me that you have refused legal advice and want to start the interview now. I’d rather you didn’t do that, Frankie, because in the long run, it could prove beneficial to you to have a solicitor present. You are allowed one phone call. Have you used that privilege yet?’
‘Yes, my friend Kerry is the only person I want to speak to. She isn’t at home right now, so can I call her again later?’
DI Blyth nodded. ‘What about the legal advice, Frankie? We have a duty solicitor who is happy to represent you.’
Frankie smiled and shook her head. ‘No thank you, I really don’t need one. I’ve already told everybody the truth. It was me that stabbed Jed and I hope the bastard dies a slow, painful death.’
Joyce sat opposite her husband with a look of suspicion plastered across her face. She knew her Stanley like the back of her hand and since he’d arrived home earlier, he hadn’t once mentioned their row, was acting oddly and his face was full of guilt.
‘I think I’ll have a glass of sherry. Do you want a beer, Stanley?’
Stanley nodded dumbly. He had been a bit wild today, by his standards. He’d gone to another woman’s house, had unholy thoughts, divulged his marital problems, and if Joycie ever found out what he’d been up to, she would bastard well kill him.
Joyce smiled as she handed Stanley a can of bitter. He had been up to no good – it was written all over his ugly clock.
‘So, where did you go earlier? Anywhere nice?’
Stanley felt his face redden. ‘No, dear. I popped to the pub,’ he mumbled.
Joyce glared at him. She had smelt a strong whiff of women’s perfume on his jumper and even though she was positive that most women in the world would find her Stanley repulsive, there was always the one old bag that was desperate. Joyce exercised her fingers and then, with a vicious look on her face, grabbed his meat and two veg and squeezed them.
‘What you doing?’ Stanley squealed in agony.
‘If I ever find out you’ve been unfaithful to me, Stanley Smith, I will personally castrate you and feed your bollocks to them pigeons of yours. Do you understand me?’
‘I ain’t done nothing, Joycie, I swear I ain’t,’ Stanley pleaded with a pained expression.
Hearing a car pull up outside, Joyce let go of Stanley’s private parts and ran over to the window. ‘It’s Frankie’s car. Go and answer the door, Stanley. Chop-chop.’
Still holding his groin, Stanley did as he was told. He recognised the caller immediately.
‘Hello. You’re Frankie’s friend, aren’t you? Where is she? Is she with you?’
Kerry burst into tears. ‘No. Frankie’s been arrested. She tried to kill Jed.’
Alice O’Hara was sitting in the Optimist with Jimmy, drinking a pint of Guinness.
Jimmy rarely took Alice anywhere with him, but today was her birthday and she deserved the occasional treat.
‘Nice pub this, ain’t it, Jimmy? Can you bring me ’ere again for lunch one day?’
Jimmy shook his head. ‘I’ve told you before, Alice, pubs are for the men to talk business and relax, a woman’s place is the home. You know that, love.’
As Alice took a sip of her pint, she was suddenly overcome by a feeling of dread.
‘What’s up?’ Jimmy asked, as he noticed the colour drain from her cheeks.
Alice took her psychic powers extremely seriously. Her nan had read tea leaves and her mum was a dab hand with a crystal ball. She stood up and urged Jimmy to do the same.
‘We’ve gotta go home. Something terrible’s happened, I know it has.’
Jimmy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Alice was usually right when she had one of her funny turns, but he still had a full pint left.
‘Can’t we finish our drinks first? Another five minutes ain’t gonna matter, is it?’
Alice grabbed his arm. ‘There’s no time to waste, we need to go now, Jimmy.’
Over in Basildon, Sammy had just pulled up outside Kerry’s mum’s house. Twice Kerry had attacked him now, and it was time for the bitch to receive her comeuppance. Sammy Junior and Freddy boy were his kids, just as much as they were hers, and now Julie had agreed to move in with him, she could look after them for him.
When Kerry’s mother, Val, answered the door, Sammy pushed her into the hallway.
‘Get out of my house, else I’ll call the police,’ Val screamed.
Having now recovered from his earlier concussion, Sammy pulled back his right fist and smashed Val viciously on the jaw. ‘Where are my fucking chavvies?’ he yelled.
Val sank to the floor, cupping her chin in her hands. ‘I don’t know, honest I don’t,’ she wept.
Sammy pulled back his right leg and booted Val full in the stomach. As she screamed, he bent down, grabbed her by the hair and forced her to stand up.
‘Me and you are going for a little ride,’ he told her.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Val sobbed.
‘You’re gonna show me where my boys are, and if you refuse, I’m gonna fucking burn you alive.’
Alice screamed as Jimmy turned into the drive and she spotted the police car. ‘Dordie, Jimmy, dordie, the gavvers are here, the gavvers!’ she cried.
Knowing his wife’s fear of the police, Jimmy opened the driver’s door. ‘You wait ’ere if you like. I reckon our Jed’s been nicked.’
Desperate to put herself out of her misery, Alice ignored Jimmy’s advice and followed him towards the police car. Two officers got out and walked towards them.
‘Are you Mr and Mrs O’Hara, the occupants of this property?’
Deathly white, Jimmy clenched Alice’s hand and nodded.
The older officer continued. ‘You need to come with us. There has been a serious incident and your son is at Basildon Hospital. We’ve been ordered to accompany you there.’
‘What son? I’ve got three,’ Jimmy said in a shocked whisper.
‘It’s Jed. Jed O’Hara. He’s fairly poorly by all accounts, so the quicker we get you there, the better.’
Jed was her youngest son and, even though as a mother you shouldn’t have favourites, he had always been the apple of Alice’s eye. She let out a wail and felt her legs go from under her.
‘Not my chavvie, not my beautiful Jed,’ she sobbed.
Up in the City, Joey had just returned from his lunchbreak and sat back down at his desk.
‘Your nan rang. She sounded a bit upset and asked if you could call her back. She said it was urgent,’ his colleague informed him.
Praying that his grandfather hadn’t fallen ill, Joey nervously dialled her number.
‘What’s up, Nan? Is Grandad OK?’ he asked, fearing the worst.
‘Oh, Joey, thank God you’ve rung me back. Me and your grandad are in a right old state. Frankie’s friend has just been round here and she reckons Frankie has stabbed Jed and been arrested for it. She said he might even be dead.’
Joey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It couldn’t be true – there must be some mistake. ‘Christ Almighty! Just stay there with Grandad, I’m on my way over now.’
Eddie, Gary, Ricky and Raymond marched into Chelmsford police station like characters out of the movie
Reservoir Dogs
.
Eddie was determined to be at the front of the queue. ‘Sorry, but I’m gonna have to go in first, this is really important,’ he said to the other two people waiting.
‘Well, that’s tough shit. I’ve been waiting ’ere for half an hour and I’ve gotta sign on soon,’ said a junkie-looking creature.
Ricky glared at the creature and as he stood up, pushed him back down on his seat. ‘My sister’s locked up in here, so we’re first. Got it?’
Seeing Gary also glare at him, the junkie nodded. He didn’t fancy an argument with these geezers, and the woman sitting next to him was too busy staring at her newspaper to argue the point.
Eddie repeatedly pressed the buzzer in reception. As soon as he’d found out that Frankie had been carted off to Chelmsford nick for questioning, he rang his solicitor, Larry, and told him to meet him there ASAP.
‘Come on you cunts, open up,’ Eddie cursed.
The bloke behind the desk had disappeared out of sight and Eddie was becoming more impatient by the minute. He turned to Raymond.
‘I tell you something, if Frankie did try to kill that pikey piece of shit, he must have done something pretty bad to make her flip and when I find out what it is, I will personally destroy the little fucker.’
Over in Basildon Hospital, Alice was screaming blue murder. Not only had a doctor just told her that Jed was in a critical condition and being operated on, but she had learned that Frankie had been arrested for causing her son’s injuries. Aware that the staff were getting annoyed with Alice for causing a scene, Jimmy tried his best to calm her down.
‘Let’s go and get some fresh air, eh? If you keep shouting and screaming, you’re gonna make yourself ill, love.’
Alice flew at him and pummelled his chest with her fists. ‘Fresh air! I don’t want no fucking fresh air, I wanna get my hands on that no-good whore, and beat the fucking granny out of her. And I tell you something else I want, I wanna know where them chavvies are. Georgie should be ’ere with us. She’ll make her daddy better, I know she will.’
As Alice began crying hysterically, Jimmy wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to his chest. If Jed died or ended up with some kind of disability, as a proud travelling man, he would be expected to get revenge for his boy. Reigniting his feud with Eddie Mitchell was something that Jimmy didn’t relish, but blood was thicker than water and if Jed did not recover, he would have no choice but to kill for his memory.
Kerry’s mum, Val, was all of a quiver as Sammy sped towards her eldest daughter’s house. She’d had no choice but to tell him where the kids were staying, as if she hadn’t, she was positive Sammy would have kept to his word and killed her.
Val held her throbbing jaw and pointed. ‘Next left, then first right,’ she mumbled.
Sammy was stony-faced as he followed Val’s directions. He had no idea if Jed had pulled through, but he was determined to get his kids for him, find out what hospital he had been taken to, and take them up there. Even if Jed had died, the kids had every right to say goodbye to their wonderful father.
‘Where now?’ Sammy shouted, as he pulled into a cul-de-sac.
‘Park here. It’s that house over there, number four.’
Sammy turned to Val. ‘Right, you go up to the door and knock and I’ll be right behind you.’
Neither Frankie’s Fiesta nor Kerry’s car were anywhere to be seen and Sammy just hoped that if she was out, the kids weren’t with her.
As Sammy put his hood up, Val walked unsteadily up the path.
‘Who is it?’ her daughter Joanne shouted.
Val flinched. She had been hoping the kids weren’t there, but she could hear their little voices. ‘It’s me, love.’
As Joanne opened the door, Sammy knocked Val out of the way, swung out an arm and pushed Joanne backwards into the hallway.
Sammy Junior was the first to appear. ‘Daddy, don’t hurt Auntie Joanne!’ he screamed.
Freddy just burst out crying.
‘Boys, go and get in the truck now,’ Sammy ordered them.
As Joanne stood up and tried to hit him, Sammy kicked her in the crotch.
‘Uncle Sammy, stop it,’ Georgie said, hugging his legs.
‘Where’s your brother?’
‘He’s asleep on the sofa.’
‘Go and wake him, Georgie, and take him out to the truck. Your daddy’s not well and we’re going to see him.’