The Feud

As Harry munched away on a ham sandwich, he came to a decision. He’d leave the boys out of this one and sort it out himself. Butch O’Hara had shaken hands with him and called a truce, which had now been broken. Therefore, it should be Butch that was made to pay.

Pouring himself a cup of sugary, strong tea, Harry sipped it in almost a ladylike fashion and then wiped his mouth with a serviette.

‘Right, I’ve come to a decision,’ he said.

As always, the table fell silent as the head of the family spoke. ‘I don’t want yous boys involved in this one. I had a deal with Butch and it’ll be him that pays.’

Paulie was the first to speak. ‘You can’t do it alone, Dad. His sons are always with him, you’ll need back-up.’

‘You’re not a teenager any more,’ Ronny told his father.

Harry thumped his fist on the table. ‘I’m fifty-five, not fucking ninety. Now, I want you all to take note of what I’m saying. I am sorting this one out alone and if any of yous starts your own war with Jimmy O’Hara or any of the others behind my back, you’ll have me to answer to.’

No one argued. When Harry Mitchell gave out orders, he was always obeyed.

‘How you gonna collar Butch on his own?’ Eddie asked.

Harry smiled. ‘Every Wednesday morning Butch travels alone up to Southhall horse market. It’s his only day away from the boys. The horsebox he goes in isn’t kept on the site, he keeps it in a lock-up around the corner. He leaves really early, about half-five and I’m gonna wait for him at the lock-up.’

Reg nodded. He loved the idea. ‘What you gonna do? Frighten him or finish him off?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I dunno. Butch is probably totally unaware that his boys have been performing on our territory. I might just shoot him in the foot, give him a little warning. Mind you, if we have any repercussions, I’ll blow his fucking brains out.’

‘Why don’t you just blow his brains out anyway?’ Ronny said, laughing.

Harry ignored his idiotic son. ‘Oh, one more thing before we go. I’m gonna need a driver to come with me. You up for it, Eddie?’

‘Sure, Dad. When do you wanna do it, this Wednesday coming?’

Harry pondered momentarily. ‘I think we’ll leave it till the following week. They might be waiting for repercussions and we want them to enjoy a nice little surprise.’

Ronny glanced at Paulie. Neither said anything, but both were thinking the same thing. At thirty-six, Paul was the oldest. Ronny was thirty-three, yet Eddie, the youngest, was the golden fucking boy.

Reg clocked Ronny’s annoyance and looked away. He was Harry’s younger brother and had always been in his shadow, yet it had never bothered him. He didn’t mind Paulie, he was OK, but Ronny was a moron and Reg made a mental note to keep a close eye on him. For months, he’d noticed him becoming more and more jealous of Eddie and it wasn’t on – they were brothers, for fuck’s sake.

With the meeting over, everybody said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

Joyce glanced at the clock and opened the oven door. She tested the knife in her fruit cake and, happy it was properly cooked, put it on the kitchen top to cool down. Eddie was due to pick her daughter up soon, and she’d baked it especially for him.

Sitting in his armchair, Stanley was unable to concentrate on Hawaii Five-O. Usually, he was glued to anything Steve McGarrett did, but today the only thing he could concentrate on was that smarmy bastard who would shortly be picking his daughter up.

Stanley hadn’t been able to sleep properly the previous night and, when he had dozed off, he’d had nightmares about Harry Mitchell. He’d dreamt that Mitchell had taken out his eye instead of Roger Dodds’.

His nightmare had only come to an end when Joyce punched him in the side of the head. ‘What you screaming out and fidgeting for? You silly old bastard,’ she’d said.

Stan had ignored her and gone downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. He’d sat up the rest of the night, frightened to go back to sleep in case his nightmare returned.

Joyce heard her daughter coming down the stairs and yelled out to her to come into the kitchen.

‘Well, how do I look?’ Jessica asked.

Joyce stared at her. She was wearing a flowery top, white plastic boots and sexy yellow hotpants.

‘You look sensational. Where did you get your shorts?’ she asked.

Jess giggled. ‘They’re not called shorts, Mum, they’re hotpants. They were only cheap, I got ’em down Petticoat Lane.’

‘What time’s Eddie picking you up? Where’s he taking you tonight?’ Joyce asked excitedly.

‘He’s picking me up at six, I’m not sure where we’re going yet.’

Joyce smiled and pointed to the fruit cake. ‘I made that for your Eddie. Are you gonna invite him in?’

‘I wasn’t planning to.’

Noticing her mum’s disappointment, Jessica immediately changed her tune. ‘I’m sure he’ll have time to come in for a quick cup of tea,’ she said.

Joyce urged Jessica to shut the kitchen door. Last night, she’d been so excited about her daughter’s romance, she could barely sleep. She had thought of an idea and she really didn’t want Stanley earwigging.

‘What’s the matter?’ Jessica asked.

‘You know what we were talking about last night? About you making sure you don’t let go of Ed.’

Jessica nodded.

Moving nearer, Joyce continued. ‘Why don’t you trap him? You know, get pregnant on purpose. I mean, let’s face it, Jess, blokes like him don’t come along every day and I’m sure if you were carrying his child, he’d propose.’

Jessica looked at her mother in horror. She wanted Eddie to propose to her because he loved her, not because she had a bun in the oven. They’d done it twice without a rubber, but only because Ed had run out, and she had no intention of trapping him. She was about to tell her mum to mind her own bloody business when the doorbell rang.

‘Quick, don’t keep him waiting,’ Joyce said.

‘Don’t you dare say anything about babies and stuff in front of him, Mum.’

Joyce pushed her towards the front door. ‘Of course not, dear.’

Stanley felt himself flinch as Eddie walked towards him.

‘Good evening, Mr Smith,’ Eddie said, holding out his hand.

As Jessica stepped out from behind him, Stan glared at her. ‘Surely you’re not going out like that? You’ve got no bloody clothes on.’

Jessica raised her eyebrows. She didn’t know who she liked the least. Her domineering mother, who was always trying to run her life for her, or her old-fashioned father, who still thought she was twelve years old.

‘It’s the fashion, Dad. All the girls are wearing hotpants.’

‘Well, I’ve never bloody well seen anyone wearing them.’

‘That’s probably because you spend half your life in the betting shop. No one’s gonna be wearing them in there, are they?’ Joyce shouted at him.

Desperate to get away from her warring parents, Jessica grabbed Eddie’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said.

Eddie let her lead him out of the living room. ‘Nice to meet you both again,’ he said politely.

‘Hang on a minute,’ Joyce shouted.

Seconds later she presented Eddie with an object wrapped in tin foil. ‘That fruit cake you liked, I baked you one,’ she said proudly.

Eddie pecked her on the cheek. ‘You’re a star, Joyce. I’ll have that for me supper.’

Jessica felt relief wash over her as Eddie drove away from the house.

‘What’s up, babe?’ he asked her.

Jessica sighed. ‘Just parent trouble. They’re always arguing and they make me feel like piggy in the middle. Both of them drive me mad and I don’t know what to do about it.’

Eddie laughed. ‘I know exactly what you can do about it.’

‘What?’ Jessica enquired.

Swinging the car onto a nearby kerb, Eddie got out, walked round the other side and opened the passenger door. As he knelt on one knee, Jessica looked at him in amazement.

‘What you doing?’

Eddie held both her hands and smiled. ‘Jessica Smith, marry me?’

FOUR

JESSICA IMMEDIATELY ACCEPTED her boyfriend’s marriage proposal, but at Eddie’s insistence, she said nothing to either of her parents.

‘I’m a big believer in doing things properly, Jess. Keep schtum for now and next weekend I’ll come round your house and ask for your parents’ blessing. I’m a very traditional geezer at heart and I’m sure your dad would expect me to ask his permission.’

Jess loved Eddie’s morals, but with her head in the clouds, she was desperate for the world to know of her good fortune. ‘Can’t I just tell my mum, Ed? It will be so hard keeping it from her and I know she won’t say anything to my dad.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘No, it’s not right, Jess. We’ll tell them together and then I’ll take you shopping for a ring. I’ll take you up Hatton Garden and you can pick whatever you want.’

How Jessica kept her mouth shut that week, she would never know. She didn’t tell a soul, not even the girls at work. The following Saturday, she could barely contain her excitement and was out of bed before the birds had even started singing. She was unable to eat any breakfast, but made her parents boiled eggs, toast and tea and took it into their bedroom.

‘What’s all this in aid of?’ her mother said, as she handed her the tray.

Jessica smiled. ‘Eddie’s coming round at twelve and I need you both to be here.’

Stanley sat up and eyed his daughter suspiciously. ‘What’s going on, Jessica?’

‘Nothing untoward, Dad. Ed just wants to speak to you both, that’s all.’

Hearing her brother moving about, Jessica swiftly left her parents’ room and knocked on Raymond’s door.

‘Enter,’ he shouted.

Jessica sat on his bed while he got himself ready. Raymond was a vain little sod and took longer to get his hair looking right than she did.

‘What you up to today?’ she asked him.

‘I’ve got band practice, then I’m taking some bird out tonight.’

‘Anyone I know?’ Jessica asked him.

Raymond laughed and shook his head. He had a different girl on his arm every week and it was a standing joke between him and Jessica.

‘What you up to then, sis?’

Jessica smiled. ‘Eddie’s coming round at twelve and then he’s taking me shopping. I wanted you to meet him, Ray. Can’t you hang about and say a quick hello to him, then go out after?’

Raymond checked his appearance in the full-length mirror. ‘Sorry Jess, no can do. I’m meeting the boys at half-ten and they can’t exactly practise without their drummer.’

Jessica stood up and gave her younger brother a hug. ‘You have a good day and I want you to promise me that you’ll make time to have a drink with me and Ed soon.’

Raymond wriggled out of her arms and checked his shirt for creases. ‘I promise. Why are you being all soppy and emotional?’

Jessica giggled. ‘You’ll find out later.’

As the clock struck twelve, Stanley sat fidgeting in his armchair. He’d arranged to meet his mate Jock in the pub at one and he was sick of this poxy Eddie messing up his Saturdays.

‘I’ll give him till half-twelve and if he ain’t here, I’m off out,’ he mumbled.

‘You will do no such thing. You’ll go out when I say you can go out,’ Joyce told him.

Stan looked at the telly and said nothing. Ever since Jess had said that Eddie wanted to see them, his stomach had been in knots. Stan had a feeling that Mr Fucking Charming Bollocks wanted to take his daughter away on holiday and, if that was the case, he’d be far from happy about it.

Hearing a car engine, Joyce jumped out of her chair and lifted the curtain. She’d been bubbling with excitement all morning and was dying to know what Eddie needed to see them for. With a bit of luck he wanted to ask their permission to marry Jess.

‘Here he is,’ Joyce said, as the posh gold Mercedes pulled up.

Eddie picked up the bouquet and bottle of Chivas Regal he’d bought, and strolled up the path.

‘How lovely to see you again, Joyce,’ he said, handing her the flowers.

‘Awww, you shouldn’t have, they’re beautiful. Let me put them in a vase.’

Eddie gave Jessica a lingering kiss and then followed her into the living room.

‘Jess said you liked a drop of Scotch,’ he said, handing Stan the bottle.

‘Thanks,’ Stan said ungratefully. If Eddie had turned up bearing solid gold bars, he still wouldn’t like the bastard.

‘Go and keep your mum company while I have a little chat with your dad,’ Eddie told his girlfriend.

Jess gave his hand a good-luck squeeze and left the room.

Not one to go round the houses, Eddie came straight to the point. ‘I have fallen head over heels for your Jessica, Mr Smith. She means the world to me and I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.’

Stanley felt every hair on his body stand up on end. Aware of his heart racing and his hands shaking, he urged Eddie to pour him a drink. Aware that Stan had turned a whiter shade of pale, Eddie was quite concerned.

‘You don’t look very well. Are you OK?’ he asked, as he handed him a large Scotch.

Stanley downed the drink in one and immediately asked for a refill.

Desperate for an answer from the shivering wreck of a man, Eddie continued talking. ‘Look, I know how you must feel and I know Jessica is still very young. But, I promise you, Mr Smith, you have my word that I will cherish and take good care of her.’

Unable to think of anything nice to say, Stanley grabbed the bottle of Chivas Regal and poured himself yet another.

‘It’s not up to me. Go and ask her mother,’ Stanley muttered.

Eddie stood up and walked into the kitchen. ‘Go and see your dad, Jess, I need to have a chat with your mum.’

Joyce smiled as he closed the kitchen door. ‘Would you like some fruit cake?’ she asked.

Eddie shook his head and cut straight to the chase. ‘I am totally in love with your Jessica and I want to marry her. I’ve had a little chat with your husband and he said it’s up to you, Joyce. I know she’s very young, but I promise you with all my heart that I’ll take good care of her.’

To say Joyce was over the moon was putting it mildly. Unable to stop herself, she flung her arms around Eddie’s neck.

‘I am so happy,’ she sobbed. ‘Welcome to the family, Eddie. My Jessica is a very lucky girl and I’d be proud to call you my son-in-law.’

Eddie smiled. ‘I’ve got a bottle of champagne in the car. I’ll bring it in and we can have a toast.’

Joyce sorted out her best crystal glasses and took four into the living room. She hugged Jessica. ‘Congratulations, darling. Eddie’s a wonderful man – you’ve bagged yourself a good one there.’

Noticing Stanley had a face like a smacked arse, Joyce kicked his leg. ‘For Christ’s sake cheer up, you miserable old bastard.’

Stanley said nothing as he was handed a glass of champagne.

Eddie kissed Jessica gently on the forehead. ‘I’m taking Jess to Hatton Garden to choose a ring this afternoon. She can have the biggest diamond in the shop.’

Joyce couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. The only rock Stan had ever bought her was a poxy old topaz. ‘You’ll have to pop back and show me your ring,’ she said to Jess.

‘I’ll show you tomorrow. Now we’re engaged to be married, you don’t mind if I stay round Ed’s tonight, do you, Mum? We want to go out for a meal to celebrate and we won’t be back till late.’

Joyce nodded. ‘That’s fine by me, love.’

Stanley looked at his wife in disgust. His daughter wasn’t even married yet and Joyce was encouraging her to hawk her mutton.

‘To my beautiful wife-to-be,’ Eddie said, holding his glass aloft.

‘To Jessica and Eddie,’ Joycie crowed.

Stan looked at the clock. It was nearly half-past one and he was late to meet Jock. Desperate to get away from the man who had led his daughter astray, he stood up. ‘I’m going out now.’

‘You can’t go out yet. We’re in the middle of a celebration,’ Joyce said angrily.

Eddie decided to stick up for his future father-in-law. ‘It’s fine, Joyce. To be honest, me and Jess need to make a move now ourselves. I’ll drop you at the pub, Stan, if you like?’

Stanley shook his head. He’d rather crawl there on all fours than get inside Eddie’s car.

Joyce tutted as her husband slunk away and then hugged both Jessica and Eddie. ‘Have a nice evening and if you can’t be good, be careful,’ she giggled.

Feeling herself going red, Jessica dragged Eddie out of the front door. ‘My mum is just so embarrassing at times,’ she moaned to her fiancé.

Eddie waved at Joyce as they drove away. The old girl would jump in the river if he asked her to, but he’d have to work a bit harder if he was to win over the old man.

A few days after his engagement to Jessica, Eddie picked his father up at four o’clock in the morning. Butch wasn’t expected to pick up the horsebox till around half-five, but his dad was keen to get there well before his intended victim.

Harry got into the car with a sports bag in his hand. ‘What’s in there?’ Eddie asked him.

‘Bolt-cutters. There’s a yard bang opposite where Butch keeps the box. We’ll cut the lock off and hide in there.’

‘We’re a bit early, ain’t we?’ Ed said.

‘Do a right here, son. We’re not going in your motor, we’ll pick up the old Bedford van. It’s still registered to some cunt in Luton, so worst ways we can burn it out if we need to.’

Eddie followed his father’s directions and they swapped motors. Driving towards Stratford, Eddie told him about Jessica. ‘I proposed to her at the weekend, Dad. I dunno when we’ll get married yet, but I bought her a nice engagement ring. You’ll have to meet her soon. She’s a right little cracker and I know you’ll like her.’

Harry patted his favourite son on the shoulder. ‘I’m pleased for you, boy, I really am. I knew straight away that your mother was the one. She was a right little cracker as well.’

Thinking about his beautiful dead wife plunged Harry into silence and he didn’t utter another word throughout the rest of the journey.

‘Left here,’ Harry said, snapping out of his trance. ‘Pull up over there. That yard’s the one we’re gonna hide in, the one with all the graffiti.’

Checking that no one was about, Eddie opened the driver’s door. ‘What we gonna do if the people turn up and we’re in their yard?’

Harry laughed. ‘The yard belongs to Terry O’Donnell. He ain’t used it for years and he owes me more than a few favours anyway.’

Taking the bolt-cutters out of the bag, Harry handed Eddie a pair of leather gloves and put on a pair himself. ‘Put on the gloves and cut the chain, son. I’ve got another chain and lock in the bag to replace it with when we’re done. I’d love to see Terry O’Donnell’s face if he can’t get in to his own yard. I’ll send him the new key in the post.’

As Eddie opened the gate he came face to face with a massive rat. ‘Fuck that! It frightened the fucking life out of me,’ he said, as the rat scuttled away.

Harry laughed. ‘Shut up, you big pansy.’

‘What we gonna do with the van?’ Eddie asked.

‘Put it in here,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll run across and, once I’ve shot the cunt, we can drive straight off.’

Eddie parked the van inside, then closed the gates. He stuck his hand through the large gap and loosely laid the broken chain back through the lock.

Harry sat down on an old tin drum. ‘I had a drive down here earlier this week. There’s no one about this time in the morning. As soon as we hear Butch pull up, I’ll creep out and do him as soon as he opens his yard. When you hear the gun go off, start the van and pull out. Lock up the yard for us, then we’re away.’

Eddie nodded. He was freezing his bollocks off and wished he’d put on warmer clothes.

The men sat in silence while they waited. Finally, at 5.23, they heard a diesel engine pull up outside. Harry peeped through the gate to check it was Butch. He waited until Butch opened the gates and went inside his yard, then he gently lifted the loose chain, crept out and followed him in.

Butch was just about to climb into his horsebox when he saw Harry Mitchell staring at him with a gun in his hand.

‘What the fuck! What’s going on, mush?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I warned you, Butch, we had a deal. Your boys have taken a fucking liberty, yet again.’

Butch could feel himself shaking. ‘What are me boys meant to have done?’

‘Performed in the Flag the other night, they did. Smashed the bogs up, terrorised the bar staff. The Flag is our territory, you know it is, Butch. Your boys have no manners and I’m not putting up with it any more.’

‘I didn’t know, Harry. I’m sorry, I’ll talk to ’em, I’ll sort it.’

Harry smiled as he lifted the gun. ‘It’s a bit late for that. I warned you about all this once before.’

‘Please, no, don’t kill me,’ Butch said, as he fell to the ground.

Harry moved deftly towards him. Butch had gone down before he’d even fucking shot him, the coward. Harry grabbed hold of the petrified man’s right leg.

‘No, please, no,’ Butch begged.

Harry Mitchell ignored his pleas, pulled back the trigger and blasted him in the right foot. ‘Take that as a warning, Butch. If I was you, I’d advise your family to move their caravans to a different fucking area.’

As blood poured from his foot, Butch was aware of shit running down his legs. He was in too much pain to speak any more; instead he just covered his head with his hands.

Harry walked away. ‘Next time, I’ll blow your brains out,’ he said menacingly.

Eddie replaced the lock and jumped back in the van. ‘Everything go OK?’ he asked, as his father got into the passenger’s side.

‘All sorted, son. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody well starving. Drop the van off, drive back to Canning Town and we’ll have a nice little fry-up in Maureen’s Café.’

FIVE

A MONTH AFTER announcing her engagement, Jessica sat nervously in the doctor’s surgery, clutching her best friend’s hand. Jessica’s periods were usually as regular as clockwork; she could never remember it being one day late, let alone two weeks. Taking her friend Mary’s advice, Jess had gone to see her doctor the previous week. The receptionist had given her a container for a urine sample, of which she was now awaiting the results.

Anxiously biting her nails, Jessica turned to her friend. ‘What am I gonna do if I am? I mean, Eddie’s already got two kids and he’s never mentioned wanting any more. Say he finishes with me? He might call off the engagement and make me have an abortion.’

Mary put her arm around Jessica. ‘You’re being silly now. Eddie loves you, so why on earth would he treat you like that? I bet if you are pregnant, he’ll be as pleased as Punch.’

About to reply, Jessica froze as her name was called. Mary accompanied her into the surgery and they sat down opposite Dr Hunter.

‘I have the results of your test back, Jessica, and I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant.’

Jessica burst into tears. She and Eddie had only done it twice without a rubber.

‘I’m too young to be a mum. I won’t know what to do,’ Jessica cried.

Mary hugged her and spoke to the doctor at the same time. ‘I think it’s a bit of a shock for Jess. Can we book her another appointment for next week?’

Dr Hunter nodded. In his profession he was used to this reaction. It’s a shame these young girls never thought about the consequences before they opened their legs.

Mary thanked the doctor for his time and led Jessica outside. ‘You wait here and get some fresh air while I book you another appointment,’ she told her.

A trip to a nearby café proved to be a turning point in Jessica’s anxiousness and, after three cups of tea, she even managed a smile.

‘Me mum’ll be pleased, I know that. She’s always banging on about having grandchildren one day. As for me poor old dad, he’ll probably drop dead with the shock of it all.’

Mary giggled. ‘I wish I’d met a nice man like you have, I’d love to be in your position. When are you gonna tell him?’