The Family

In addition to paying for their wedding, Rob had given him some cash as a wedding gift. He’d said he could invest it as he saw fit: to buy a stake in the company, or to start his own enterprise if he preferred to go it alone. Stephen wished he’d never told Pam about it. When he’d hared home with the wad, she’d still been revelling in big-day excitement. They’d only recently returned from their Brighton honeymoon – a week’s holiday reluctantly paid for by his father-in-law, who had become aware that his failure to contribute to his daughter’s wedding was the subject of gossip. Pam had counted the wedding cash out and announced she wanted a few more little honeymoon treats before they got back to normal. So they’d gone for a night at the dogs with a big party of family and friends, and come out of the stadium with not a lot more than their cab fare home.

That had been months ago now, but it was still causing arguments between them. In a way, Stephen wished his brother had never given him the money at all, for it had planted a seed of ambition in him that previously he’d failed to acknowledge, or nurture.

Robert had said nothing when he’d found out that Stephen had squandered his wedding present. He hadn’t needed to: the look he’d given him had been witheringly explicit.

‘I don’t want to be rowing with you all the time neither,’ Pam mumbled. ‘I know I look a fright. Sorry I can’t be more … y’know … attractive for you. I know you miss doing what we used to do …’

‘Yeah …’ Stephen sighed. He turned her fully towards him so he could insert a finger down her cleavage. ‘Got this advantage though …’ Before she’d got pregnant she’d been quite flat-chested; now she had a round heavy bosom and Stephen couldn’t get enough of it. He put down the fish supper and growled a laugh. He roughly yanked open buttons and lowered his head to her warm swollen flesh. While he was occupied, Pam shuffled sideways and, one-handed, began removing the newspaper wrapping so she could get stuck into the chips before they got cold.

‘You spoke to Jimmy last week.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Don’t matter who told me. I thought we agreed to give him a wide berth because he’s trouble.’

‘He’s me father and if I want to speak to him, I will,’ Stephen retorted. ‘You pay me wages, you don’t rule me life. Got them keys?’

It was five o’clock on a misty October morning and they were standing in the hallway of Rob’s house. It had been arranged the previous week that Stephen would call by early and collect the keys to the warehouse next door to Rob’s office, just off the Holloway Road. The place was stacked floor to ceiling with market-stall stock and Stephen’s job today was to load stuff on to one of the vans and distribute it around London to be stashed away in smaller stores close to their various pitches.

Robert pulled several sets of keys out of his pockets and sorted through them before putting one on the table.

‘Perhaps one day I’ll get me own set, will I?’ Stephen suggested sarcastically.

‘Yeah … it’ll be the day you put your money where your mouth is,’ Robert said quietly. ‘Got anything else you want to say to me before you get off?’

Stephen shuffled uneasily before meeting his brother’s dark stare. He could tell from that steady challenge that Rob had been told, or had guessed, what Jimmy and him had been talking about. He wouldn’t put it past his father to have told Robert himself. Jimmy was itching to start trouble. He was also angling to get involved in the business and grab a share of the money. Stephen knew his father wasn’t above getting him the sack so he could take his job if he thought Rob would wear it. Fortunately for Stephen, he knew Robert hated their father so much he wouldn’t even slow down to piss on him if he was on fire.

‘Yeah, I’ve got somethin’ to say,’ he suddenly blurted out. ‘I want a rise. We got a baby due soon and I got things to buy. Pam’s seen a pram she wants in Gamages …’

‘And you’re expecting me to pay for it? You got her pregnant.’

‘I know I fucking got her pregnant!’ Stephen snarled.

Previously, Robert hadn’t been certain that his brother regretted getting himself tied down, he’d simply sensed it from his moodiness. Now he knew for sure, but curbed his urge to tell Stephen that it was his own stupid fault he’d got stuck with a woman who was greedy and selfish and would be a burden for life. He simply shook his head, dropping it back so he could scowl at the ceiling.

‘You know you’re already earning good money, don’t you? You’re getting more than any of the others.’

‘Fuck me, is that a hardship for you?’ Stephen shouted. ‘I’m family, ain’t I? Don’t I deserve a bit of special treatment?’

‘Yeah, and I deserve a bit of loyalty and extra effort. But you’re no better at doing your job than Dave and Gil, are you? In fact, if anyone’s going to slope off early, it’s generally you.’

Stephen coloured. Pam had told him to have it out with Rob about getting a rise and a stake in the company, but now he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. ‘So what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that, if you weren’t my brother, you’d be out on your ear. That’s what I’m saying. I’m also saying that if you’d put that money I give you to good use, you’d have made yourself a nice amount and could have been a junior partner. Then you’d have your own set of keys to the warehouse. Those radios and cameras made a good profit. Four hundred and fifty quid, and it was yours for the taking.’ Rob came closer to him. ‘But what I’m really saying is I wish you’d used the cash to piss off and set up on your own, ’cos I’m sick of you whining and sulking every fucking day. Ain’t my fault you got forced into a marriage you don’t want.’

‘Well, give us the money again. A loan this time. I’ll pay you back – and interest too,’ Stephen hissed. ‘Just give us another fuckin’ chance and I’ll be off quick as yer like.’

The brothers locked eyes, then Robert said, ‘Right. Come back this evening and you can have a hundred as a loan, and your cards.’

Stephen swallowed and licked his lips, then he swiped the keys from the table and marched out.

SIX

‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, gel.’

Nellie Tucker swung round and looked the fellow up and down. He was standing in the gutter and Nellie thought that was where he deserved to be. She couldn’t blame all her rotten luck on him, but neither had he ever been good for her. If she hadn’t already heard on the grapevine that Jimmy Wild was back, she’d have struggled to recognise him, despite the fact they’d lived together on and off for over three years. Her eyes lingered on his craggy, caved-in cheek.

‘You look a bit worse fer wear,’ she remarked spitefully before walking on.

Jimmy’s mouth narrowed as she blatantly cold-shouldered him. Though he hadn’t seen her in over a decade, he’d been confident of soft-soaping Nellie just like he’d always done in the past. He needed to get some information from the cow, so couldn’t let her slip away just yet. It had taken him several months to find her; she kept moving around London and was liable to turn up anywhere she could hook up with a ponce who’d put a roof over her head. By lucky chance he’d spotted her emerging from a tobacconist’s in her old stamping ground near Finsbury Park.

He slouched behind her, hands in his pockets and a roll-up dangling from his mouth. A jaundiced eye assessed her plump rump and thick waist. She was dressed in cheap clothes and shoes that accentuated the fact she’d lost her shapely legs and her figure. Once she’d been a stunning blonde who’d pulled in a good few bob per punter, keeping them both in good times. Now she looked to be a brassy old bag who’d be lucky to get a couple of clients at chucking-out time.

‘Piss off, Jimmy. Ain’t got nuthin’ to say to you no more,’ she threw over her shoulder, aware he was following her. She lit a cigarette from the pack she’d just bought and sent the smoke from her first drag back at him too.

‘Just thought you’d like to have a drink with me fer old time’s sake,’ Jimmy suggested softly. ‘We was good together, you ’n’ me. Thought about you a lot, y’know, gel, while we been apart.’

Nellie swung about and cocked her head so coarse blonde curls dangled over a stout shoulder. She had known handsome, strong fellows who had gone to war and come back looking as though they’d aged twenty years. Jimmy Wild had been handsome – his dark good looks had been what attracted her to him. He’d been strong too – there had been many occasions when she’d experienced first-hand the power behind one of his punches. Now he looked spindly of limb and bloated of belly, and she wouldn’t have bet on him being able to battle his way out of a paper bag. As far as she knew, his physical disintegration had nothing to do with fighting for king and country. But she was curious to find out where he’d gone after his sudden disappearance and what he’d got up to. After all, she’d been threatened with a prison sentence for aiding and abetting in his murder. ‘Gonna take me fer a drink, are you?’ she jeered. ‘Who’s paying? Me?’ She started to cross the road, but at a leisurely pace that lured him to follow.

‘You think I got no money?’ Jimmy asked softly, walking by her side now. ‘You don’t know about my eldest boy then.’ With deliberate nonchalance he pulled from his pocket a couple of bank notes he’d been putting by for the rent. He was a month in arrears, and old man Keane was already cutting up rough about it. Edie had refused to lay out any more for rent from her wages as a char. Faye was more inclined to buy her brothers stuff than bother keeping a roof over their heads. Last week the selfish little cow had bought Michael a pair of boots off Billy the totter and a few vests for the little ’un.

Nellie slanted a look at the pound notes and gave him a sly smile. Like most people who’d spent time in Campbell Bunk, she took an interest in those who’d risen above the squalor and disadvantage of their background and made something of themselves. She knew Rob Wild was getting rich. She also knew he hated his father – and her. She’d caused trouble between Jimmy and his late wife, but had shrugged off the guilt. Jimmy Wild would be a wrong ’un wherever he was and whoever he was with. But … she turned her head away to conceal the calculating glint in her eyes … she was between pimps, in need of some money, and definitely in need of a drink.

‘So, how’s life been treating you, gel?’ Jimmy took a swallow from his glass of ale and set the tankard back on the table.

‘Better’n you, by the looks of things,’ Nellie returned drily before emptying her glass of gin and orange in a couple of gulps.

Jimmy bit back a scathing response to her insult. She obviously didn’t have a mirror about the place where she kipped. ‘You always was a fine looker, Nel,’ he said gamely. ‘Had some good times ’cos of it, as I recall.’

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