The Life (23 page)

The same could be said for each of her boys, she supposed. None of them seemed to want to settle down, but then they were not living the kind of life suited to that. They ran nightclubs, were used to late nights, and they were enjoying every second of it. It was every young bloke’s dream, she guessed. But now here was her Liam on a love job, and she really was pleased for him.

‘Go in the front room and entertain your girl. I’ll rustle us up a bit of grub. Does the little fella eat anything special?’

‘Bernard eats whatever you put in front of him. He’s a good kid, Mum – funny and all. I’ve been teaching him a bit of boxing.’

Ria could hear the pride in her son’s voice, and for a few seconds she felt the urge to cry. She was proud of her son, proud that he had a heart big enough to love that poor girl’s child. It took a lot for someone to do something like that, and not every man was capable of it. But Liam seemed to genuinely care for the boy.

‘I can hear your dad. Let him in, will you?’

Five minutes later Peter came into the kitchen, amazement written all over his face. Laughing softly, she said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, but she seems a good girl, Pete.’

‘She’s a fucking looker, I know that much!’

Ria laughed again. ‘I know, and why not? We have good-looking sons! All joking aside, he is absolutely smitten with her, and her little lad as well. She’s had it hard from what Liam’s said, and she is very young, but she makes him happy.’

Peter Bailey loved his wife with a passion, and she knew that. Jealousy had never been a feature of their relationship, and he was pleased about that more than he would ever admit. Liam’s girl was a real beauty, and there were many women who would not welcome her into their lives. Very beautiful women were
rarely liked by other women, he knew that from his years working the clubs. Imelda was a jealous woman, and she had already given her opinion about Mandy to him very vocally. He was sorry about that because Imelda needed to realise, before it was too late, that it took more than good looks to keep a couple together.

‘It’s his life, Ria! He’s a grown man.’

‘A stripper! I bet she caused a few heart attacks!’

They were laughing loudly together when Liam came into the kitchen with his ready-made family.

Mandy Wright was nervous, excited and happy all at the same time; she loved the atmosphere in this house, and she felt that Liam’s mother liked her and, more importantly, that she liked Bernard. She was daring to hope that she might have finally landed on her feet.

Bernard was crowing with laughter. Seeing his son hugging the blond child as if he was his own flesh and blood, Peter was suddenly reminded of his brother Daniel and how he had looked out for him when they had been kids. Daniel had the same blue eyes as this little lad and, like Liam, Peter had brown eyes. War and Peace was their mother’s nickname for them, but they had been so close. For the first time in a long while, Peter missed his brother.

Mandy was sitting at the kitchen table, her son on her lap, chatting away to Ria, and Peter opened a bottle of wine for them. He felt a sudden rush of contentment wash over him. This was what life was about – being together as a family, enjoying each other’s company, and appreciating what you had.

Young Bernard put his arms out; Peter Bailey took the child and, smiling happily, he said to his son, ‘What are we going to call him then, eh? Bernie boy?’

Mandy watched as a big fuss was made of her little boy, she saw Ria watching her husband and son as they played with the child, and she dropped her head on to her chest as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

Ria placed a hand on her shoulder and, squeezing gently, she leaned down and she whispered into her ear. ‘Listen love, relax, you’re with friends.’

Mandy looked up, and her eyes were wet with emotion. Ria pulled the girl into her arms and, hugging her tightly, she said loudly, ‘This one’s a keeper, Liam.’

Liam looked at his father and they smiled together. Young Bernard was in his element being the centre of attention. Liam was happier than he had believed humanly possible. Winking at his mum, he began wondering where would be the best place to buy a property, so he could not only house his new-found family but, at the same time, make a good investment for the future.

Delroy was counting up the divvy. He knew it was light, but he wasn’t too bothered – the remainder would be collected the next day by his lads. He yawned loudly.

Imelda came into the kitchen and he smiled at her despite the fact he was still irritated with her. She knew better than to accuse him of infidelity this time. He was a player, no doubt about that, but he would never do anything to jeopardise his relationship with her.

‘Is everything ready for Sunday?’

She nodded. She was nervous around him these days, constantly terrified that he would walk out on her and their son. ‘It’s going to be lovely. Little Tania’s dress is out of this world! I just hope my dad and Uncle Daniel don’t have a row.’

Delroy shrugged. ‘They won’t. It’s been a while now, girl, and they don’t communicate, except through the boys. It will be cool, stop worrying about nothing.’

Imelda felt that he was dismissing her, but she bit her tongue. She had always been of a fiery temperament, and lately she had been feeling uneasy. Seeing him laughing with that young girl had unnerved her more than she would have believed. She
did
believe him when he said there was nothing untoward going on with her; she knew he would never do that to her – not publicly anyway, and not where they were both known. She was lucky he was like that – many of the men in their world had no such
qualms, and they took their girlfriends to the same places they took their wives.

But it was seeing him with that girl, so relaxed, laughing out loud at something she had said, that had affected her so much. Who else was he like that with? Was she white? Blonde, with pneumatic tits, and big blue eyes? Was she a typical Rasta boy’s Klingon? Did he hold her in his arms? Did he tell her things, private things? Did he compare
her
to his lover?

Even though Delroy kept his women well tucked away, just knowing he had them was enough to break Imelda’s spirit. The fact that he
needed
other women was more than she could bear. She had tried never to let it bother her before, but the nightmare of seeing him laughing with that young girl, knowing she wanted him even if he didn’t want her, was almost a physical pain. Like someone had wrenched her guts out from inside her and thrown them on to the dirty road.

His job alone made sure he was always around other women. He worked odd hours; he would never be a man she could pin down in any way. He was a man who took a flyer when the fancy took him, but she was tortured by the idea that one of those girls he used would become more than just a sexual pastime. If he left her she would die. She would never recover, of that much she was sure.

‘You all right, Mel?’

She forced a smile and, coughing nervously, she said gently, ‘’Course! I’m always all right. That looks light.’

He grinned. Trust her to notice that. ‘It is. I was tired, I just wanted to get home.’

It was what she wanted to hear, and they both knew it.

‘It’s fucking loud in here.’ Noel could scarcely hear himself.

Jamsie nodded his agreement; it was pointless trying to answer his brother. They pushed their way through to the back of the club, relieved to shut the door of the small office; they could still hear the music, but it was muted enough to at least hear yourself think.

‘This place is a fucking goldmine! I told Danny a good DJ was worth the money, didn’t I?’

Noel was pleased that his ideas had worked out so well. He had argued that a good DJ developed a following, and he had been proven right. Since getting their hands on Colin Farmer’s place they had tripled their income almost overnight. They now had monthly guest spots in all their clubs, and they sought the best of the best. Northern soul was big again, so the Northern boys were very popular; the punters were happy to jam the place out on week nights, pleased at the opportunity to hear the DJs they had heard about perform live for them.

It was a great time to be in the club industry. Everything was so easy now – the venues were huge, they had the facilities to put on the bands, and the capacity to make sure it was an earner. The strip clubs were all well and good, but they saw the future in clubbing. Young people were willing to pay for a good night out, a bit of gear, coke, whatever and, as they also supplied that along with the alcohol consumed, they were on a fucking roll.

‘I’m fucking knackered, Noel. Cut me a line, will you? I need a livener.’

Noel did not need to be asked twice. As he cut the coke on the desk top with a credit card, he felt a rush of contentment; this really was the life. They were charmed, they had it all.

Jamsie poured them both beers and, after they had snorted a couple of lines each, they toasted each other.

‘They are late. If they don’t get a fucking move on they can piss off.’

Noel laughed. ‘Oh, Jamsie, fuck off. They’ll be here.’

Jamsie grinned. He could feel the buzz coming over him, his tiredness was gone, and his brain was active once more. ‘That’s a good fucking snort!’

Noel laughed. ‘I should hope so. Jack knows where to get the good stuff!’

They were both roaring with laughter now.

A knock on the office door heralded the arrival of their guests. Noel opened the door with a flourish, and ushered in two men; both were in their late twenties, from Liverpool. They were the Daly brothers, legends in their own lunchtimes, and as dangerous as they were handsome.

Gerry Daly took in the scene in nanoseconds and said loudly, ‘Oh, just what we needed! A snort and a beer. It don’t get better than this!’

Paddy Daly took out a notebook and, as Noel was cutting them lines, he explained, in glowing terms, how they were all going to benefit from the bank robbery he and his brother had planned down to the very last detail.

Noel and Jamsie were thrilled; as the youngest of Daniel’s boys they were desperate to spread their wings, go out on their own, and the Daly brothers were more than willing to help them achieve their goal.

Little Delroy looked handsome, and he knew it; he was a very confident child. His father laughed as his son walked around outside the church like a mini version of himself. It was funny how seeing yourself in your children made you realise that, through them, you would never really be gone. Those people who said they didn’t want children were nutbags, why else would God have created the human race?

Imelda looked gorgeous, but then she always looked good. Not that she would believe a word he said nowadays. She was a difficult female, but Delroy had always been attracted to the feisty ones – he liked a bit of spark in his women.

He saw Daniel Bailey, Tania and Lena walking towards him, and he smiled at them easily, determined to put the dramas of the past behind them today. Little Tania looked absolutely fantastic. She was a good-looking child, and she would one day be a beautiful woman. You could see Theresa in her – she even had her nana’s walk. ‘Look at you!’

Tania beamed with pride; she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she looked lovely today. She
felt
lovely as well.

Delroy offered Daniel his hand in greeting. ‘You all right, Daniel? What a great day, eh? Your old mum’s like a fucking maniac with it all.’

Daniel Bailey smiled tightly, but his attention was not really on Delroy. He was aware that his brother was somewhere in the
vicinity, and that they were unlikely to acknowledge each other except with a brief nod.

Lena had made her way straight to Ria, and Daniel felt irritated for a moment, but he swallowed his anger. Ria and Lena were close mates, and their friendship kept up the pretence that everything was OK between the brothers, even though everyone in their world knew the truth.

Danny was watching his dad closely. He was not going to have even one drink today – he would keep as close to his father as humanly possible, without making it too obvious and, if there was even the slightest hint of a problem concerning him, he would remove his father from the premises immediately. Uncle Peter could be relied on to keep his cool, no matter what. His dad, however, could not. He was trying though, and they gave him credit for that, but it didn’t change the fact that none of his sons believed he was cured of his angry outbursts. A few drinks, and an imagined slight could easily cause World War Three. It was his little sister’s day today, and he was hoping against hope that his father would keep that fact in the forefront of his mind.

Danny glanced around the church grounds; the place was packed out with parents, families and children. He wondered where the fuck his brothers were. Noel and Jamsie were nowhere to be seen.

He saw Liam Bailey arrive with his girlfriend and her little boy; she was a looker all right, and a stripper! He had seen her without her kecks on more than one occasion – they all had. She had been a sight to see, God bless her, all tits and lip gloss. But if Liam didn’t give a fuck, why should he? He was well loved-up by all accounts.

Mandy waved at him shyly, and he smiled back at her, amazed at how she could remove her clothes for money yet still be bashful in male company. That was a melon scratcher all right.
Liam winked at him and mouthed hello. Liam had never looked so happy, and Danny was pleased for him; he seemed to enjoy playing the daddy, and the kid adored him, anyone could see that.

His Uncle Peter was walking into the church, and Danny watched as his father acted like he wasn’t bothered either way. He prayed, please God, let the day go without a hitch. He was not in the mood for aggro, and he did not relish his task as unofficial minder.

Noel and Jamsie were nervous. They had arranged this sure in the knowledge that they would arrive at the Communion in time for the service and the clock was ticking. As they sat in the white Transit van with the Daly brothers, they were sweating with apprehension and anticipation. Noel kept his hand on the pump-action shotgun purchased especially for this occasion. He liked the feel of it, the knowledge that he had it close by. Powerful guns were like expensive cars – they said something about you personally, made you feel good about yourself. He glanced at his brother and they exchanged uncertain smiles.