The Traitor (23 page)

‘Stop bleedin’ complaining. We’re nearly in the 1990s now. Get with it – times have changed, Stanley. Just because our Joey likes a bit of winkle doesn’t make him a bad person. I mean, look at me and you, we ain’t had sex for donkey’s years, but I don’t complain, do I?’

The thought and mention of sex with his wife was too much for Stanley to bear. ‘Goodnight,’ he shouted as he shot up the stairs.

‘Gertcha, you old git,’ Joyce giggled. She was glad he was gone. She had recorded
Dallas
earlier and fancied another glass of sherry. Shame Stanley didn’t resemble JR, Joyce thought mischievously. She’d love to have her wicked way with him.

The following morning Frankie was up at the crack of dawn. She immediately looked in the mirror and gasped. Her right eye was black and blue and she had a lump on her forehead like a table-tennis ball.

Jed got out of bed and stood behind his girlfriend. He put his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. ‘I know your face looks bad, but it’s only bruised, babe. It’ll go down in a couple of days, you’ll see.’

Frankie nodded and turned away from the mirror. She felt like the bloody elephant woman and she dreaded facing her grandparents.

Jed gently tilted her chin and planted a kiss on her lips. ‘You see to Georgie girl and I’ll cook us a nice breakfast. I’m sorry Frankie, really sorry.’

Joyce was in a jovial mood as she washed up the plates from lunch. Her roast and dessert had gone down a storm and she loved having Joey and Dominic around the house. Wiping her hands on the tea towel, she glanced at the clock. The time was quarter to four and Joyce was getting more excited by the minute as she thought of baby Georgie.

Jed pulled over at the bottom of the drive. He left the engine running, got out the driver’s side and opened Frankie’s door for her. ‘Now, are you sure you’re gonna be OK?’ he asked, as he handed her the baby.

‘I’ll be fine. I know what to say,’ Frankie replied.

Jed smiled. ‘I’ll pick you up here at seven. In the meantime, I’m gonna see if I can find us somewhere to live, babe, and as soon as we move, I’ll book your driving lessons for ya.’

Frankie pecked him on the lips and began walking up the driveway.

Joyce, who had been glued to the window for the past ten minutes, saw her granddaughter in the distance.

‘She’s here,’ she yelled excitedly as she ran to the front door.

As the welcome committee ran out to greet her, Frankie was horrified to see Joey and Dom were still there. Pulling the wool over her grandparents’ eyes was one thing; trying to pull it over her brother’s was a different kettle of fish.

As she clocked Frankie’s face, Joyce screamed. ‘Oh my God, what have you done to yourself?’

Joey ran over to his sister. ‘Did Jed do that to you? I knew it – you ask Dom. I fucking knew he’d hurt you.’

Frankie shook her head furiously. ‘Of course Jed never did it. What do you think he is, Joey? We went to a party last night and I haven’t really had a proper drink for months, have I? Well, I got so drunk, I don’t remember anything. Jed said that I fell down the steps of the trailer. He said that I passed out at the party, he got me home, but I got up in the middle of the night and tried to go outside.’

Joyce and Stanley automatically believed Frankie’s story and, not wanting to create a scene or worry his grandparents, Joey pretended to believe it as well.

As soon as Frankie went inside, Joey grabbed Dominic’s arm. ‘She’s lying. I know she’s lying. I told you yesterday that something was wrong and I was right. Jed did that to her, I know he did. He’s a fucking animal.’

Dominic nodded in agreement. ‘What are we going to do? How can we help her?’

‘There’s nothing we can do personally, but I tell you something that I can do: I can ring Gary and Ricky or, even better, I can write to my dad and tell him,’ Joey replied.

Dominic shuddered at the mention of Joey’s father. ‘Do you think that’s wise? I mean, what can your dad do if he’s locked up?’

Joey shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter that he’s locked up, my dad will still sort it. I have to do something to help Frankie, and as much as I don’t want to contact my old man, with Frankie’s safety in question, I have no choice.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Frankie Mitchell sat in the trailer and nervously chewed at her fingernails. Realising that her thumb and both index fingers were bleeding, she sat on her hands to stop herself gnawing them down to the bone.

DI Blyth was picking her up at nine o’clock. and every minute that passed felt like an hour. Frankie was dreading going to court and petrified at the thought of seeing her dad again.

Obeying her orders, Jed had gone to Southall horse market this morning. ‘I’m gonna sell that mare and foal, Frankie. You know, the mare that’s always lame. I won’t take ’em this week, though, not with you going to court,’ Jed had told her only yesterday.

Frankie had insisted that he went to the market. She had sort of forgiven him for the injuries he’d caused her at the weekend, but seeing as her face was still black and blue, what he had done was proving very hard to forget. Jed had given her a big hug this morning before he left.

‘Good luck, babe. All you’ve gotta do is tell the truth about your dad. Remember to tell the court that he hated me and my family, won’t ya?’

With her mind all over the place, Frankie checked the time, then glanced at herself in the mirror. She’d literally caked her face in make-up, but even though the lump on her forehead had gone down, no amount of slap would cover her bruises.

At ten to nine, Frankie heard a car pull up outside. Realising it was DI Blyth, she took a deep breath and picked up her handbag. It was time to face the music.

Eddie Mitchell was sitting on a bench in a cell below the court. He’d insisted on wearing a black suit and tie every single day of his trial. It was in memory of his Jessica, of course.

Nervously twiddling his thumbs, Ed thought of the conversation he’d had on the phone yesterday evening with Gary and Ricky. It was a weird chat, spoken in code, but Eddie had understood the end result.

Neither Gary nor Ricky had had many dealings with Frankie or Joey since Jessica’s funeral. In their eyes the twins were equally to blame for the tragedy that had occurred, and also their father’s downfall. Joey turning out to be gay had been a knife in their dad’s guts; then Frankie, the stupid little cow, had twisted the fucking thing until it would twist no more.

As his solicitor entered the cell, Ed gave a half-smile. His stomach was churning at the thought of facing Frankie, but if Gary and Ricky could get to her first, as they’d promised, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

DI Blyth drove towards central London, glanced at Frankie and smiled. The girl was obviously a bundle of nerves, which was one of the reasons she had insisted on picking her up. Frankie was a key witness and the last thing Blyth wanted was the girl not turning up.

‘So, where’s that beautiful baby of yours today?’ Blyth asked. She needed to keep things as jovial as possible.

‘My nan and grandad are looking after her,’ Frankie replied, staring out of the window.

Frankie had opted for Joyce to look after Georgie because she had barely spoken to Alice since their argument at the weekend. Jed had told his mum to give him and Frankie some space, and for once the awful woman hadn’t been barging in and out of their trailer.

‘Whatever you do, don’t let me mum know that we’re planning on moving yet. She’ll have a fit and I can’t stand the hysterics, so we won’t tell her till the day before we leave,’ Jed warned Frankie.

Daydreaming, Frankie barely heard DI Blyth’s next question. ‘Sorry. I was miles away, what did you say?’

‘I said is your brother meeting us at the Old Bailey?’

Frankie nodded. ‘Joey lives in Islington, so it’s not that far from him. He offered to come to Rainham, but I told him there was no point.’

Blyth felt desperately sorry for Frankie. It was unusual for her to get too personally involved with witnesses, but due to the unusual circumstances of this particular case, Blyth couldn’t help herself.

‘What happened to your face, Frankie? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

Frankie gave a false laugh. ‘I got drunk the other night and stacked it. What am I like, eh? Jed reckons I’m the clumsiest person he’s ever met.’

DI Blyth gave Frankie a sad smile. She’d made a good career catching out liars and she could spot a bad one a mile off.

‘We’re nearly there now. The traffic was much better than I anticipated,’ the DI said brightly.

Frankie shuddered at the words ‘nearly there’. DI Blyth had already run through the set-up and briefed her on the journey as to what she was likely to be asked in court.

Blyth pulled into a car park and turned the engine off. She squeezed Frankie’s hand. ‘Now, you know what you have to say, don’t you? All you need to do is tell the truth.’

Frankie nodded. ‘I have to tell the judge and the jury that my dad hated Jed and his family and that he was really angry when he found out about our relationship and my pregnancy.’

Jimmy O’Hara sat opposite Jed in a pub outside Southall horse market. Today had been a very good day. They had got a fair price for the lame mare and its foal and had then purchased a striking sixteen-hand bay trotting mare.

Jed took a sip from his bottle of lager. He had just tried to ring Frankie again, but her phone was still switched off. He smirked and nudged his dad’s arm. ‘I wonder if she’s told the court what a shitcunt her old man is yet?’

Jimmy O’Hara laughed. The thought of Frankie possibly being the one to stick the final nail in her own father’s coffin tickled him immensely. ‘I still can’t believe Mitchell was that much of a dinlo to shoot his own wife. He always thought he was such a big-shot. His old man, Harry, was the same, always punched above his weight. He came a cropper as well, murdered in his own bed. This is what I always try to tell you, Jed: what goes around comes around, son.’

Jed nodded in agreement. His dad had no idea whatsoever that it was he who was responsible for Harry Mitchell’s death. Jed’s heart wanted to tell his old man the truth, but his head told him not to.

‘Whatcha thinking about?’ Jimmy said, clicking his fingers.

Jed grinned. ‘Eddie “I’m going down for life” Mitchell.’

Appreciating his son’s humour, Jimmy burst out laughing.

Frankie wasn’t due to give evidence until after lunch. Bored with sitting in the witness-protection room with people she didn’t know, she grabbed Joey’s arm.

‘Where are you going?’ DI Blyth asked suspiciously.

‘We’re going to get a sandwich and a coffee,’ Frankie replied.

Blyth immediately stood up. ‘OK, I’ll come with you.’

Frankie shook her head. ‘I need to speak to my brother alone. I won’t be long; I promise I’ll be back in half an hour.’

DI Blyth wasn’t happy. She hadn’t planned to let Frankie out of sight for a minute. About to argue her point, she stopped in her tracks. Frankie was clearly agitated and time alone with her brother might help her nerves somewhat. Perhaps she even wanted to talk to him about her facial injuries, tell him what had really happened.

Blyth sat back down on her chair. ‘I’ll wait here and don’t be long, in case they call your name.’

Gary and Ricky Mitchell had been waiting for an opportunity to speak to their sister all morning. They’d toyed with the idea of sending their dad’s brief into the witness room to tell Frankie they had an urgent message for her. After much deliberation, they’d decided against it, as if their story wasn’t believed, they’d have no chance whatsoever of getting to her.

Gary looked at his watch. ‘I think we’ve had it now. She’s due in soon. What are we gonna tell Dad?’

Ricky shrugged. He adored his father, but he and Gary had done their best to help him. ‘It ain’t our fault, Gal. I mean we’ve been ’ere since first thing this morning. That pig ain’t left Frankie’s side, she’s been stuck to her like glue. The only hope we had is if she went for a fag or wandered to the canteen with Joey, and she ain’t, has she?’

Gary was devastated. Their dad had been relying on him and Ricky to somehow get to Frankie, and they’d let him down. ‘Let’s give it another half-hour or something. You never know, she might still pop out for a smoke.’

The lads had been taking it in turns to peep around the wall and keep watch.

‘I’m just gonna go for a piss,’ Ricky told his brother.

As Ricky disappeared into the nearby toilets, Gary peeped around the wall again. His heart immediately started to pound in his chest. Frankie and Joey, minus the cop, were walking his way. Cursing his brother for going to the toilet at just the wrong moment, Gary made a snap decision.

There were too many people milling about for him to drag both Joey and Frankie outside on his own, so the only option he had was to bundle them into the toilet as well.

Gary hid the other side of the wall and took a deep breath.

‘What are you doing?’ Joey yelled, as Gary put an arm around both him and Frankie.

Seeing a grey-haired woman staring suspiciously their way, Gary smiled at her. ‘Smile nicely and do as I say. Scream or shout and I’ll fucking kill the pair of ya,’ Gary said under his breath as he led the troublesome twins along the corridor.

As Ricky reappeared, Gary nodded to the toilet. ‘Is anyone in there?’

Ricky shook his head.

‘It’s the men’s. I ain’t going in there,’ Frankie said adamantly.

Ignoring her, Gary ordered Ricky to keep watch outside and pushed both twins into a cubicle.

Forever the drama queen, Joey began to cry. ‘Let us go or I’ll scream,’ he said, as Gary squeezed himself in and locked the door.

‘Shut up, you fag. It’s Frankie I want to talk to, not you.’

Frankie was much calmer than Joey. She guessed that this ambush was something to do with the evidence she was due to give and she certainly wasn’t afraid of Gary or bloody Ricky.