The Feud (6 page)

‘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.’

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?’

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?’