The Feud

Jessica took a bite of her bacon sandwich. ‘I’m seeing Ed tonight, so I’ll tell him then. Keep your fingers crossed, eh?’

Mary squeezed her hand. ‘Everything’ll be fine, I just know it will.’

Eddie counted the takings for the second time. Satisfied that they were spot-on, he placed the money in a carrier bag and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Although his family owned salvage yards, most of their money came from pub protection. They tried not to hit on their own doorstep too much, and concentrated more on the surrounding areas. Everybody, including the O’Haras, thought that John, the guv’nor in the Flag, paid them protection, but that wasn’t the case. John was their mate, he looked after them and vice versa.

Eddie turned the radio on as he made himself a sandwich. He hated silence, it gave him the heebies. Hearing the croaky voice of Rod Stewart, he cranked up the volume. He loved that song, ‘Maggie May’. It was all about a young boy having an affair with an older woman. Eddie thought back to his colourful past. He’d been in that position many a time in his youth, so much so that the song could have been written especially for him.

Smirking, Ed flopped onto the sofa and was just about to tuck into his doorstep special when the phone rang. ‘Fucking nuisance,’ he muttered, as he ran to the hallway to answer it.

‘All right, Dad? What you up to?’

‘I’m just leaving home. Have I got some news for you, Eddie, my boy. Meet me in the Flag, I’ll be there in half an hour.’

Eddie could tell by his father’s voice that whatever news he had was bloody good.

‘Don’t keep me waiting. Tell us now.’

Harry Mitchell laughed. ‘No way. I need to see the expression on your face when I tell you. Be patient and move your arse.’

Eddie shook his head as he replaced the receiver. He was a funny bastard, his father, a proper fucking character.

Jessica had a bath, dried her hair and sat on the bed in her dressing gown. She was dreading telling her parents the news, but the quicker she told them the better. Her mum should be OK; it was her dad she was worried about. Jessica wasn’t very good at lying.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ her mum asked her earlier.

‘Nothing,’ Jessica lied. Her dad wasn’t at home and she’d rather kill two birds with one stone than tell them separately.

Hearing the front door slam shut, Jessica chucked on some clothes and wandered downstairs.

‘Any chance of a quick word with both of you?’ she asked sheepishly.

Joyce and Stanley followed her into the living room.

‘Sit down,’ Jessica urged.

Stan said a silent prayer. Something was wrong and with a bit of luck Mr Fucking Charming Bollocks had kicked her into touch.

‘What’s up, love?’ he asked hopefully.

Jessica felt too embarrassed to look them in the eye, so she focused on the carpet.

‘Please don’t have a go at me, but I found out today that I’m pregnant. I’m really sorry if I’ve let you both down.’

Joyce hugged her daughter. The timing wasn’t perfect but, nevertheless, she was thrilled. She’d always fancied being a young grandma. She could barely wait to get dolled up and go out walking with the pram. As for babysitting, she would look after the child as much as Jess would allow her.

‘I’m so pleased for you, darling. Now, don’t you worry about being young and not being able to cope. Your old mum will teach you the ropes and I’ll be there for you as much as possible. Perhaps Eddie will buy you a house nearby, so I’m always on hand to help out and babysit.’

Stanley sat paralysed in the armchair. He’d had so many high hopes for his beautiful daughter and now she was up the spout by that Mitchell bastard.

‘Are you OK, Dad?’ Jessica asked him.

Stan nodded and looked the other way. He didn’t want her to see the tears in his eyes.

‘What about the wedding? Will you bring it forward or get married after the baby’s born?’ Joyce asked.

Jessica shrugged. ‘I’ll speak to Eddie tonight. He doesn’t even know that I’m pregnant yet. I don’t really want a baby out of wedlock, so the sooner we tie the knot, the better. I’d rather do it before I start showing.’

Joyce nodded. She could understand where Jess was coming from. Walking down the aisle with a stomach like a rugby ball never looked good on anyone. She squeezed her daughter’s hand.

‘Whatever you and Eddie decide, me and your dad are right behind you, aren’t we, Stanley?’

Stan said nothing. The quicker he got out of this bleeding nuthouse the better.

‘Stanley, what do you think you’re doing? Where you going?’ Joyce shouted.

Ignoring his wife, Stan put on his checked cap and slammed the front door.

Eddie ordered another drink and glanced at his watch. His bloody father was late and he was doing buttons to know what had happened.

Five minutes later, a beaming Harry Mitchell strolled into the pub.

‘Well, what’s occurring?’ Eddie asked him.

Ushering his son over to an empty corner of the pub, Harry sat opposite him. ‘They’ve gone.’

Eddie shook his head, ‘Who you on about? Who’s fucking gone?’

Harry started laughing. ‘The O’Haras. They’ve moved away, the whole lot of ’em. They’ve gone to Essex, by all accounts. Butch sent a message to me yesterday, via Ginger Mick. He told him to tell me that there won’t be any repercussions and he wants an end to the feud for good. Ginger Mick said the old cunt was petrified and he can barely fucking walk. Yesterday they went – the site’s completely fucking empty. Packed up their stuff and did a moonlight flit, apparently.’

Eddie couldn’t stop smiling. He would never have to see Jimmy O’Hara’s ugly boat race ever again.

‘Bring us over a bottle of champagne, Betsy,’ he ordered the barmaid.

Eddie shook his old man’s hand. ‘You know what this means, don’t you? We can take over the Stratford boozers. I can’t wait for us to bowl into the Chobham and demand money off that pikey-loving cunt of a guv’nor. I think we should stick the price up in there, charge him more than we charge anyone else.’

Harry laughed. ‘My sentiments exactly. Apparently, they had seven boozers in Stratford on their payroll, all told. In the next couple of days we’ll pay all of ’em a visit, get our foot in the door.’

Eddie sipped his drink. ‘Are you sure that Ginger Mick can be trusted?’

Harry nodded. ‘I’ve had him on me payroll since he was a young ’un. Safe as houses, he is. The O’Haras thought he was their Joey – what they didn’t know was that I set it all up. We needed a spy in the camp, and Ginger Mick was perfect.’

Reg, Paulie and Ronny’s arrival spelled the start of a glorified piss-up. Champagne corks went flying and there were pats on the back and handshakes all around.

‘Come and join us, John,’ Harry urged the guv’nor.

Ronny started the singalong and the rest of the lads joined in: ‘When the inbred O’Haras go run, run, a-running along, shoot the bastards, shoot the bastards, shoot, shoot, shoot the bastards.’

‘What yous lot celebrating? Ain’t won the bleedin’ football pools, have yer?’ Betsy asked, as she brought over yet another two bottles of champagne.

‘We’re celebrating being the kings of the East End,’ Ronny shouted, grabbing her large backside.

‘Keep yer dirty fucking hands to yerself, Ronny Mitchell,’ Betsy said, laughing.

The raucous behaviour, jokes and songs continued for hours and, three sheets to the wind, Eddie completely lost track of time. ‘Shit, I was meant to pick Jess up at seven,’ he said, leaping out of his chair.

‘Fuck her off, stay out with us tonight,’ Ronny said.

‘Yeah, let’s go to a club and celebrate properly,’ Paulie suggested.

Eddie shook his head. He was a gentleman and would never let Jess down at short notice. Realising he was in no fit state to drive, he asked John the guv’nor to call him a cab.

Five minutes later, he heard a bib outside and said his goodbyes.

‘All of us will meet in here tomorrow at two o’clock. Then we can pay a nice friendly visit to the Chobham and the rest of them boozers in Stratford,’ his father told him.

Eddie jumped into the cab and urged the driver to put his foot down.

Jessica, who had been standing looking out of the window for an hour, felt relief surge through her as Eddie got out of the cab. She ran to the front door.

‘There you are.’

Eddie was full of apologies, ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, babe. Something cropped up. It won’t happen again, I promise.’

‘I was so worried, I thought you’d had an accident or something,’ Jessica said.

Eddie held her close and stroked her hair. ‘I got stuck with some business, you know how it is.’

‘Where’s your car?’ Jessica asked.

Eddie was saved from answering by Joyce’s intervention.

‘Would you like a beer, Eddie? Or a cup of tea and fruit cake?’

Eddie shook his head. ‘The cab’s waiting outside. I’m gonna take Jess out for a nice meal. Another time, eh, Joycie?’

Joyce could tell Eddie was a bit drunk, but boys would be boys. Her son Raymond was the same; he was always coming home tipsy.

Joyce winked at Jess and crossed two fingers on both hands. ‘Good luck,’ she mouthed, as they walked up the path.

Jessica sat in the restaurant and barely touched her food. ‘Leave the chips if you like, but eat that fillet steak,’ Eddie urged her.

‘I’m not hungry,’ Jessica said, as she slipped it onto his plate.

Having sobered up a bit, Eddie soon realised that Jess wasn’t herself and obviously had something on her mind. He put down his knife and fork and took her hands in his.

‘Come on, spit it out, what’s a matter, babe? Are you having second thoughts about us getting married or something?’

Jessica shook her head. She just had to say it, there was no other way. ‘I went to the doctor’s today, Eddie. Please don’t have a go at me, but I’m pregnant.’

Eddie’s smile was that wide it almost lit up the restaurant. ‘Are you sure? Have you had a proper test?’

Jessica nodded. ‘The doctor gave me the results today. Look Ed, I’m so sorry. If you want me to get rid –’

Eddie leaned further across the table and kissed her on the lips. ‘Get rid of it? Are you mad? Don’t you get it, Jess? I love you and we can have as many babies as you want.’

Realising that he was telling the truth, Jessica smiled. ‘What about the wedding, though? I’m not walking down the aisle with a bun in the oven, Ed. It will look awful, people will think I’m a tart.’

Eddie laughed. ‘You ain’t gotta walk down the aisle with a bun in the oven. Look, we’d have had trouble finding a vicar to marry us on the quick ’cause I’ve already been married. How about I book a register office? We can get married in the next couple of weeks if you want.’

Jessica’s eyes shone. ‘Really, Ed? Do you mean that?’

‘Of course I do. Waiter, bring us over a bottle of champers,’ Eddie said loudly.

Aware of all the other diners looking at him, Eddie smiled. He loved being the centre of attention, it was all part of his make-up.

He stood up and addressed the whole restaurant. ‘You see this beautiful girl here,’ he said, pointing at Jess.

‘We, us two, are getting married and we’re having a baby. Now, who fancies a glass of champagne to celebrate our happiness with us?’

‘I’ll have one,’ said an old man with a bald head.

‘We’ll have a drink with you,’ said a woman in a spotted dress.

Eddie ordered the waiter to get more bottles of champagne and share them between all the other diners. The restaurant was reasonably empty and, apart from themselves, there were only five other tables taken.

Jessica could feel herself blushing beetroot red. Eddie could be so bloody loud, especially when he’d been drinking.

‘Nosy load of bastards. They were all looking at us,’ he whispered to Jess.

Winking at her, Eddie carried on where he’d left off. ‘Now come on, fucking stand up, I’ve just bought you all champagne.’

Well aware that he was probably a local villain, everybody leaped to attention. Eddie held his glass aloft.

‘To Jessica, the most beautiful girl in the world,’ he said.

Wary, but amused at the same time, everybody lifted their glasses.

‘To Jessica,’ they repeated after him.

Minutes later, Jessica’s happiness partly disintegrated.

‘I beg your pardon?’ she said to Eddie. He was winding her up, he had to be.

‘I said, I want you to pack your job up in the morning. Now we’re getting married, things are different. I’ve got money – you don’t need to work any more.’

Jessica looked at him in amazement. She liked her independence, enjoyed her little job and she had so many friends there.

‘I’m not ready to give it up yet, Ed. I know when I’ve had the baby, I’ll have to, but that’s ages away yet.’

Eddie held her hands and gazed deep into her eyes. ‘Look, if we’re gonna get wed, you’ve got to get your priorities right. I mean what’s more important, a poxy job in a shoe shop, or us and our baby’s future? Marriage is all about give and take, Jess, and if you can’t do this one little thing for me, then maybe you’re not ready for such a big commitment.’

Jessica bit her lip. She had just found the man of her dreams and she couldn’t lose him over something so trivial. She squeezed his hand.

‘You’re so right, Ed. I mean, I’d have to give it up in a few months anyway, so I might as well do it now. I’ll ring them first thing tomorrow, to tell them that I’m leaving.’

Eddie smiled. ‘That’s my girl. You know it makes sense.’

Joyce and Stanley were watching a late-night film when Jessica arrived home. ‘Did you have a nice evening? How did Eddie react to the news?’ Joyce asked excitedly.

‘Oh, Ed was thrilled. He said we can have as many babies as I want,’ Jess said happily. ‘And I’m giving my job up. I’m gonna ring the shop tomorrow to tell them I won’t be coming back.’

Stanley looked at his daughter in astonishment. ‘You can’t give up your job. I thought you liked working in the shoe shop.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘Eddie said that I don’t need to work any more. He said he’ll look after me and the baby from now on.’

Aware that her dad was anything but happy, Jessica looked away from him. ‘I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea,’ she said, as she swiftly left the room.

Stanley glared at Joyce. ‘She loves that bloody job. That bastard’s trying to manipulate her already. It ain’t right, Joycie. Next thing you know, he’ll have her shut in a fucking cupboard. These villains have different principles to the likes of me and you. They keep their women under lock and key, and we’ve got to put a stop to it before it’s too late.’

Joyce threw her husband a look of contempt. ‘Don’t you dare spoil our daughter’s happiness. If Eddie wants to support Jess, then good for her. I wish I hadn’t had to work when I was pregnant. Do you know how hard it was for me, dragging myself to that bloody office every day? I had no choice, we couldn’t survive on your measly wages. You leave our Jess alone and keep your idiotic opinions to yourself, Stanley. Unlike me, she’s found a rich man, a good ’un.’

About to answer his wife back, Stanley was stopped from doing so by Jessica’s reappearance. ‘Thanks, love,’ he said, as she handed him his cuppa.

Jessica sat down next to her mum. She had one more bombshell to drop and she knew her dad wasn’t going to be happy. ‘Oh, by the way, Eddie and I have decided to get married in a couple of weeks’ time. We’re not gonna bother with a church do, we’ve decided on a register office.’

As the horror of the situation hit Stanley, he spilt half of the contents of his favourite mug over his leg. ‘Bollocks!’ he yelled, as the hot tea scalded him.

‘Silly old goat,’ Joyce whispered.

Jessica felt sorry for her dad. She knew it had always been his dream to one day walk her down the aisle. ‘Are you OK, Dad?’ she asked kindly.

Stanley said nothing as he dabbed his trousers with his handkerchief. Whatever he said would make no difference, so what was the bloody point? Both his wife and daughter thought the sun shone out of Eddie Mitchell’s arse. With a sense of foreboding, Stanley said goodnight, left the room and trudged dejectedly up the stairs.

He was sure that the day would come when his wife and daughter would wish they had listened to him. Until that day came, Stanley had little choice other than to smile, be polite and keep schtum.

SIX

JOYCE GASPED IN admiration as Jessica walked through the door.

‘You look just like a model – so, so pretty. I am so proud of you, Jess, I really am.’

Not wanting her mother and father’s arguments spoiling her big day, Jessica had opted to get ready over the road. Her friends, Ginny and Linda, lived next door to one another. Both worked as hairdressers and they had kindly offered to do her hair and make-up for free.

Noticing Jessica’s hands shaking, her best friend, Mary, handed her a glass of wine. ‘Your hair looks fabulous at the back. Whose idea was it to put those beads in it?’

Jessica smiled. ‘It was Eddie’s, actually. We saw a girl wearing white beads in her hair in a pub last week and Eddie said they’d look great for my wedding day. He likes me to wear my hair up.’

Jessica only had one set of grandparents still alive. Her dad’s parents had both died in the last few years, but her mum’s parents had recently retired to Norfolk. Her nan smiled at her. ‘Beautiful dress, darling. Where did you get it from? Must have cost a fortune with that crochet and crystal trim.’

Jessica carefully sat down and took a sip of her wine. ‘A shop in Knightsbridge. Eddie sent me there; his friend owns the place and I was allowed to choose whatever I wanted. Ed told me not to worry about the price, he wouldn’t even let the man tell me how much it cost.’

Nanny Ivy pursed her lips. ‘Sounds too good to be true, this Eddie,’ she said curtly.

Joyce scowled at her mother. She saw very little of her parents, which suited Joyce just fine. They hadn’t seen eye to eye for years and Joyce would never forgive her mum for forcing her to marry Stanley.

‘No, he’s not too good to be true, mother. He’s a respectable gentleman, a lovely chap. In fact, he’s the total opposite of what you made me end up with.’

Ivy knew when to shut up. There was nothing whatsoever wrong with Stanley. Joyce had always had a high opinion of herself. Acted like Lady Dunabunk, she did, full of her own self-importance.

‘Where is everybody?’ Jessica asked.

Joyce looked at the clock and felt the first stirrings of annoyance. She’d been so wrapped up talking about the wedding, she’d forgotten Stanley had been due back ages ago.

‘Christ knows where your father’s got to. He was ready at ten o’clock this morning, had a bath and put his suit straight on, he did. Then he dragged your grandad and Raymond down the bookie’s, said they’d only be half-hour. If he’s in that pub, getting half-sozzled, I’ll bleedin’ well kill the bastard.’

Jessica felt her heart beating at double its usual pace. She was already nervous about the day ahead and the last thing she needed was her parents at one another’s throats. Please God, not today, she prayed silently.

Stanley Smith stood in the betting shop and watched in dismay as trap six came stone bollock last.

‘Stupid fucking mutt, wants putting down,’ he cursed, as he made the short walk back to his local. ‘Give us another three bitters, three whisky chasers, and a lager for Raymond,’ he told Anna, the barmaid.

Anna smiled. ‘You’re going for it today, Stanley. Who’s that older man you’re with? And why are yous all dressed up?’

Not in the mood for polite conversation, Stanley mumbled the words, ‘Father-in-law, going to a wedding,’ and walked away.

Stanley was dreading the day ahead of him. The thought of handing his beautiful daughter over to a bastard like Eddie Mitchell filled him with hatred and anger.

‘What’s the time, Stan? Hadn’t we better be getting back soon?’ asked Bill, his father-in-law.

‘Mum’ll have her broom out if you’re late,’ Raymond joked.

‘It’s OK, we’ve got time to drink these,’ Stan replied confidently.

Jock, Stan’s best mate, necked his whisky chaser and smiled. ‘Well, did you have any luck with that dog you had the tip on?’

Stanley shook his head. ‘I think the bastard mutt’s still running. My luck’s fucked at the moment, in every way you could think of.’

Seconds later, Stanley’s luck got even worse as he spotted an angry-looking Joyce stomping into the pub. ‘Shit, tell her I’ve already left,’ he said, as he threw himself under the table.

Knowing her husband’s cowardly behaviour of old, Joyce crouched down and immediately found him. ‘Stanley, get up from under that table and get your arse home this minute!’ she screamed.

Aware of the whole of the pub laughing at him, Stanley crawled out like a naughty schoolboy.

‘I’m sorry, Joycie. Me, Ray and Bill lost track of time. We were just gonna –’

Joyce lifted her umbrella and repeatedly whacked him on the backside. ‘Home, Stanley, now, and I mean now.’

With Joyce and her brolly on his tail, Stanley ran out of the pub, twice as fast as the mutt he’d lost his money on.

Eddie stood in Barking register office and glanced at his watch.

‘Don’t worry, she will be here,’ his brother Ronny assured him.

Eddie smiled. Paulie had been his best man at his first wedding to Bev, so he’d felt it only right to even things up by asking Ronny this time round.

Ronny had been thrilled to be asked. He’d hugged him, with tears in his eyes. ‘I’d be honoured, bruv, fucking honoured.’

Eddie wiped the palms of his hands on his smart grey suit. ‘Get someone to open that door, I’m sweating me cobs off in here,’ he ordered Ronny.

‘She’s arrived. They’re here,’ somebody shouted.

Eddie took a deep breath as Jessica walked towards him. Smiling, he squeezed her hand. ‘You look beautiful, really beautiful.’

The vows might have been short and sweet, but they were filled with emotion and spoken with meaning.

Eddie slipped the ring on Jessica’s finger and kissed her tenderly. ‘I love you, Mrs Mitchell,’ he whispered.

With little time to organise the big event, Eddie had chosen a restaurant in Canning Town for a slap-up meal, followed by a knees-up back at his local pub. He’d booked a disco and had told John, the guv’nor, to serve free drinks all night. He hadn’t invited too many people. Including Jessica’s family and friends, there were about fifty at the wedding and meal, and another fifty or so invited to the reception at the boozer.

‘I can’t believe my best mate’s married,’ Mary said, smiling.

‘You look so pretty, Jess,’ Linda said.

‘Beautiful,’ Ginny agreed.

‘Congratulations, darling,’ Joyce said, hugging her daughter.

‘I like Ed, he’s a top bloke, sis,’ Raymond said, kissing her.

Stanley felt his eyes water as he watched his daughter and Eddie gaze into one another’s eyes. It would all end in tears, he just knew it would.

His mother-in-law felt the same way. ‘I don’t like him. Surely our Joyce must realise they’re a family of villains? You’ve only got to look at them to see what they are.’

Stanley gave a defeated shrug. ‘You know what Joycie’s like, once she gets a bee in her bonnet. I never liked the flash bastard from day one, but as usual, my opinion counts for nothing in our house. I tried to tell Joycie, but she can’t see the wood for the trees.’

Noticing her father’s dismal expression, Jessica walked over and hugged him. ‘I know you’ve got your doubts, Dad, but trust me, I love Eddie and I know what I’m doing.’

Stanley took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his eyes. ‘I hope you’re right, darling, for your sake I do.’

Covered in confetti, Jessica and Eddie posed for numerous photographs.

‘Now all immediate family stand together,’ the photographer shouted.