FORTY-ONE
James chucked his tools on the floor and opened the
back door to let in some air. ‘I dunno about you, Fred, but I’ve
had it for today, mate. Me mouth’s like a camel’s arse, and I could
kill for a cold beer.’
Freddie didn’t need much persuasion to stop work.
Both he and James had spent the last few months literally working
their bollocks off.
‘Let’s go to that little boozer down the road, eh?
I’m starving and they do a nice bit of grub in there.’
On entering the pub, James flopped on the nearest
bench seat and sent Freddie up to the bar. Renovating the house was
good fun, but bloody hard work. Three months on, it had begun to
take shape and both lads were overjoyed with their efforts. With
little experience, they’d been a bit dubious in the beginning, so
much so that on their first day they’d stood looking at one another
like a pair of lemons.
Freddie had been the first to break the ice, ‘Come
on, clever clogs. Seeing as all this was your idea, where the fuck
do we start?’
Laughing, they’d got stuck in and had hardly come
up for air since.
They’d been shitting themselves on their trip to
the Costa del Sol. The thought of telling Bobby Adams that they
were giving up the drug run filled them both with dread. They’d
fully expected him to go apeshit but, surprisingly, he’d been fine
and had taken their decision on the chin.
‘Obviously I’m disappointed, but I fully understand
your reasons. You’ve both been fantastic to work with and I wish
you all the luck in the world with the property venture.’
James and Freddie felt a mixture of relief and joy
by Bobby’s reaction and, on his insistence, had stayed with him for
a couple of days and had a whale of a time.
‘Now, remember, don’t be strangers. You’re always
welcome to stay at mine any time you like,’ he said, as he dropped
them at the airport.
James smiled as Freddie sat down opposite
him.
‘You took your bleedin’ time.’
Freddie nodded. ‘They’re so slow in these country
boozers. The Foster’s ran out and they had to change the
barrel.’
As the two ploughman’s lunches were brought up to
the table, both lads attacked them hungrily.
‘So, how’s Maria?’ Freddie asked, between
mouthfuls.
James shook his head. ‘She’s still tearful and
biting me head off.’
Maria’s behaviour over the last few months had been
odd, to say the least. At first, James had thought she had a cob on
because he was working seven days a week, but now he wasn’t so
sure. She seemed to have gone off him, so much so that she didn’t
even want him to make love to her any more.
‘You don’t reckon she’s bored with me, or met
someone else, do yer?’ James asked Freddie.
Spitting his pickled onion back onto the plate,
Freddie shook his head. ‘Never in a million years – she’s not the
type. Think back over all the years you’ve known her. Has she ever
gone off the boil with yer before?’
James racked his brains. ‘Only when she was
pregnant. She was tearful then and didn’t want me anywhere near
her, with both the girls.’
Freddie smiled. ‘Well maybe that’s your answer
then. You’ve been trying for another one, ain’t yer? Maybe she’s up
the spout.’
James shook his head. ‘We ain’t had sex for fuckin’
months and if she’d missed a period, she would have told me.’
Freddie shrugged. ‘If I was you, I’d get a test and
make her do it. Sarah didn’t know she was pregnant with Daisy until
I made her do the test.’
James ran his fingers through his hair. Maria was
certainly acting all hormonal, so maybe she was up the duff.
He smiled at his pal, ‘Right, I’ll get us another
beer and then we’ll go and find a chemist.’
Back in the East End, Maureen was all of a fluster.
First, Kenny had rung up and invited himself round for dinner, then
Johnny had phoned up from football informing her that his dad would
be joining them for Sunday roast as well.
‘I’m gonna have to pop to the supermarket, Mum. The
leg of lamb’s big enough, but I ain’t got enough fresh veg. I’d
better get some wine and some beers as well. All we’ve got is
Guinness, and we can’t offer ’em that.’
Much to Maureen’s annoyance, Ethel insisted on
going with her.
‘Can’t yer stay here? I’ll be quicker on me own.
It’ll take us a good hour or so if I have to push yer around in the
chair.’
Ethel was having none of it. ‘Don’t be so fuckin’
wicked. I ain’t had no fresh air for days – anyone would think you
were trying to kill me off.’
Maureen tutted. Ethel drove her mad at times.
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. I was just thinking of the time. Kenny
said he’d be here at one and it’s half eleven now.’
Ethel sneered. ‘Bollocks to Kenny! He only wants to
come and see us ’cause he’s probably had a row with Lady fucking
Penelope. Now pass me me blanket. Like it or not, I’m comin’ with
yer.’
Over on Hackney Marshes, Johnny coolly placed the
ball onto the penalty spot. If he scored this, it would secure his
hat trick and, hopefully, win his team the game.
‘Go on, Johnny, you can do it!’ he heard his dad
shout.
Staring into the keeper’s eyes, Johnny sent him the
wrong way and blasted the ball into the roof of the net.
‘Well done, son.’
Running to the touchline where his dad was
standing, the hat-trick hero threw himself onto the grass. As his
team-mates joined in the celebrations, Johnny’s smile lit up the
overcast skies of Hackney.
A few miles way, Maureen pushed Ethel around the
supermarket as fast as she could. Satisfied that she’d gotten all
that she needed, she made her way to the checkout.
‘What’s a nipper like you doin’ stuck ’ere on a
Sunday? You should be out enjoying yourself,’ Ethel told the pretty
young cashier.
‘I need the money to help out with my education.
I’m still at college,’ the girl said, smiling.
Ethel shook her head and laughed. ‘Education, what
a load of old bollocks! I could teach you more in a day than you’d
learn at any bleedin’ college in a year.’
Maureen put her change in her purse. ‘Sorry, love,
take no notice,’ she whispered to the shocked girl.
On reaching the exit, Maureen stopped to hang the
bags on the handles of the wheelchair.
‘Excuse me.’
As a huge arm grabbed her shoulder, Maureen swung
around and came face to face with a rather tall security
guard.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked impatiently.
The security guard spoke in a strong Nigerian
accent. ‘I need you to come back inside the store. I believe you
have shopping that you haven’t paid for.’
Maureen pulled her receipt from her purse. Surely
Ethel hadn’t been on the rob? She’d fucking kill her if she
had.
Inside the manager’s office, her worst fears were
confirmed, as a fresh chicken, a packet of strawberries and a tub
of double cream were pulled out from under her mother-in-law’s
blanket.
‘I forgot they were there – it’s me Alzheimer’s,’
Ethel said indignantly.
As luck would have it, the manager was a pleasant
chap.
‘I’m so sorry. She’s eighty-six and not all the
ticket,’ Maureen kept repeating.
‘Just pay for the items and we’ll forget all about
it,’ the manager said kindly.
Embarrassed, Maureen shoved a tenner at him. ‘Is
that enough?’
The manager led them back to the checkout. ‘You’ll
have to pay here, the items need to be scanned.’
The young girl who had served them before smiled.
‘Back again?’
‘Mum forgot to pay for her shopping,’ Maureen said,
wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.
Outside the shop, she gave Ethel what for. ‘Next
time you wanna go to the supermarket, don’t ask me to take yer. Why
did you nick a chicken when we’ve got lamb for dinner?’
‘I thought we could have it in sandwiches for
supper.’
‘We’ve got ham for sandwiches,’ Maureen said,
fuming.
Ethel couldn’t stop laughing, ‘Cheer up, Maur, we
got away with it, didn’t we?’
Maureen was really pissed off. ‘I swear on my life,
Mum, I’m not bringing you out no more – that’s your lot. Never
again will yer show me up, and I mean it this time.’
Over in Ingatestone, Maria was also cooking a
Sunday roast.
‘I’m starving, Mummy. Is it ready yet?’ Lily asked
impatiently.
Maria put the chicken back into the oven. ‘Don’t
drive me mad, Lily. Go and sit in the other room with your sister,
and as soon as Daddy gets home, I’ll dish up.’
Lily scowled at her mum, pouted her lips and walked
away.
‘Mummy is so horrible lately,’ she complained to
Tara.
Tara said nothing, but nodded in agreement. Their
mum used to be happy and laugh a lot; now she was sad and shouted
all the time.
Maria poured a glass of wine and sat at the kitchen
table. She hadn’t felt well lately; she was always tired and had no
energy whatsoever. Wondering if her fatigue was caused by her newly
found friendship with alcohol, she pushed the thought to the back
of her mind. A couple of glasses of wine never hurt anyone and at
the moment it was the only thing that got her through the
day.
She’d tried her best to forget about Tommy’s visit,
but it was hard – bloody impossible, in fact. Many a night she woke
up in a sweat as images of his evil face interrupted her dreams.
She knew that James was worried about her and she hated herself for
that. He was working so hard to secure a better future for them;
the poor sod deserved better than to put up with her moods.
Determined to try and be more cheerful from now on,
Maria poured herself another drink. For the sake of her family, she
had to try and snap out of it.
Back in Stepney, the house was full of high
spirits. Ethel nudged Maureen as Johnny’s hand shot out for yet
another helping of roast potatoes.
‘Bless him, I do like to see a growin’ lad eat
well. Ain’t he got his appetite back?’ Ethel said.
Still smarting from earlier, Maureen ignored her
and began to clear the dinner plates. There was no doubt that
Johnny had come on in leaps and bounds since his dad had appeared
in his life. In all honesty, Royston wasn’t a bad lad. Polite and
well mannered, he was a good influence on Johnny and someone for
him to look up to.
Once a week Royston drove up from Kent to spend the
day with his son. His wife had hated the arrangement at first, but
once he’d begun to alternate the Saturdays and Sundays, she’d kind
of accepted the situation.
‘Who wants dessert? I’ve got apple pie and custard
or strawberries and cream,’ Maureen said, shooting a look at Ethel.
She wanted to remind her that she still had the hump with
her.
Ethel chuckled. ‘They’re my treat, the strawberries
and cream.’
Guessing what the joke was, Kenny looked at
Maureen. ‘Please tell me she didn’t thieve ’em?’
Maureen shook her head. ‘Don’t ask – sore
subject.’
Kenny turned to Ethel. ‘Ain’t you ever gonna learn
to behave yourself, Mother? I know you used to chore when we were
kids but, fuck me, you’re eighty-six years old. You must be the
oldest kleptomaniac in living history.’
Ethel pursed her lips. ‘If it wasn’t for me givin’
birth to yer, yer wouldn’t even be ’ere, so mind your own business.
Anyway, how comes you’ve invited yourself round for dinner? Had a
row with Lady Penelope, have yer?’
Kenny shook his head. ‘Her sister and husband are
over for the weekend; they were doin’ my head in and I had to get
out of the house.’
Maureen laughed. ‘I bet Wendy weren’t too pleased
when you said you were going out. Did you tell her you were comin’
here?’
Kenny took a mouthful of apple pie. ‘I didn’t say
where I was going. Cor, this is handsome, Maur,’ he said, cleverly
changing the subject. ‘Did you make it yourself, girl?’
Maureen blushed with pleasure. ‘Of course I did,
it’s a recipe me mum taught me when I was knee high.’
Ethel watched her daughter-in-law with interest.
Maureen glowed whenever her Kenny was about. The way she felt about
him stood out like a sore thumb.
Over in Essex, Maria was trying her hardest to be
jolly.
‘Can I have some chocolate ice cream, Mummy?’ Lily
asked her.
‘I want banana split,’ Tara demanded.
‘Neither of you are having any dessert until you’ve
eaten all of your vegetables,’ Maria said, smiling at James.
Seeing his wife pour herself yet another glass of
wine, James nudged her.
‘Follow me out to the kitchen. I need to talk to
you alone for a sec.’
Feeling awkward, Maria followed him. She hoped he
wasn’t going to tell her off about her drinking again.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked uneasily.
James handed her the paper bag and waited for her
reaction.
Maria laughed as she took out the pregnancy test.
‘What’s this for? I’m not pregnant, James.’
James leaned against the worktop. ‘Well, I think
you are.’
Maria shook her head. ‘I’m sure I haven’t missed me
period and I’ve had no morning sickness. I know all the signs,
James, and I’m tellin’ you, I’m definitely not pregnant.’
‘Just do the test. Please, Maria?’
Maria shrugged. ‘OK, I’ll do it in the
morning.’
James smiled. ‘The woman in the shop said that
there were two tests in the box. Do one now and you can do the
other one in the morning. Please, Maria, do it now for me?’
Maria read the instructions. ‘All right, I’ll do it
in the toilet.’
James didn’t want to miss out on the excitement.
‘Let’s give the girls their desserts and then we’ll go and do it
together. I didn’t wanna say anything in front of them, in case it
was a false alarm.’
Maria nodded and took the ice cream out of the
freezer. When she’d been pregnant with the girls, she’d had sore
breasts and been as sick as a pig for nine months. Frantically
trying to remember when she had last seen her period, she felt
herself go cold. She couldn’t remember; her mind had gone blank.
Surely not, she thought. Please God no, not after what had happened
with Tommy.
Ten minutes later, James snatched the white stick
from her and hid it back in the box. ‘The instructions say that it
takes five minutes. Let’s time it and then we’ll look at it
together.’
Maria said nothing as he hugged her tightly. Her
insides were in knots and all of a sudden she felt sick to the
stomach. Say she was pregnant? What could she do about it?
James looked at his watch. ‘That’s it, the five
minutes are up. Are you ready?’
As he picked up the box, Maria prayed silently.
Please God no, please God no, please God no.
James’s ecstatic scream confirmed that God hadn’t
listened.
‘There’s a blue line. Look, Maria, look. I knew it,
I fucking knew it – you’re pregnant, we’re having another
baby.’
Over the moon, James picked her up off the floor
and swung her around. ‘Let’s go and tell the girls and then I’ll
ring me mum and Freddie. You better ring your mum, Maria, she’ll be
so excited.’
Unable to stop herself, Maria let out a wail of
pure sorrow.