THIRTY-FOUR
James sat in the corner and stared at his empty
glass. After leaving Tommy’s, he’d stopped at the first boozer he’d
come across. The place was empty, a shit-hole, and it matched his
mood perfectly.
Going straight home to Maria after what Tommy had
just said was totally out of the question. He needed to sort his
head out, work out whether to confront her or not. He felt ill,
sick to the stomach. Standing up, he walked back to the bar.
‘Give us another brandy, and make it a treble this
time.’
The fat, tattooed barmaid smiled at him. The blokes
that usually came in were pig ugly; James was a bit of eye candy
and she was desperate to get chatting to him.
‘You having a bad day, love?’
James shook his head. The last thing he needed was
polite conversation. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look fine. What you done to your face?
You been fighting?’
James usually prided himself on being polite to all
and sundry. Today, was an exception though. ‘Just give me the
fucking drink, will yer?’ he yelled.
Surprised by his own rudeness, he snatched the
glass, apologised, and quickly sat back down. This whole situation
was fucking his head up and he needed some answers quickly.
Maria was fuming as she studied the takeaway menu.
So much for their big night out at a posh restaurant. They’d be
lucky to get a few manky leftovers from the local chinky at this
time of night. Throwing the menu down in temper, she tried James’s
number once again. His phone had been switched off for hours and
each time she tried to get through to him, she became more and more
infuriated.
‘How dare he turn his fucking phone off? He makes
himself look such a knob, chasing around after Tommy like some
fucking Joey. I’m not putting up with it any more, Mum. I swear on
my life, I’m putting my foot down from now on.’
Janet put an arm around her daughter. ‘Now calm
down, Maria. James has got a heart of gold, and if Lucy’s gone into
labour and Tommy can’t be found, then he’s bound to help out.
You’ve got to remember, he didn’t know that you’d booked the
restaurant. He just thought we were eating at home.’
Maria burst into tears. She’d planned tonight with
such precision. Her big news would be delivered on her mum’s
birthday, in the beautiful restaurant, and now, thanks to Tommy,
everything had been well and truly fucking ruined.
As Bobby Adams pulled up outside Tommy’s house, he
was surprised but pleased to see his car on the drive. He hadn’t
been able to contact him by phone, the bastard hadn’t been
answering. Bobby was well pissed off with Tommy and he’d had
visions of driving around all night looking for him. Thank God he’d
struck gold by trying the house first.
Bobby banged on the door and waited patiently for
an answer. It didn’t come, so he looked through the lounge window.
Seeing Tommy sprawled face down on the sofa made his blood boil.
Probably out of his nut again, he thought angrily. Getting more
wound up by the second, Bobby pounded on the glass with his fist
and caught his diamond ring against the lead.
‘Tommy, I know you’re in there. Answer this fucking
door before I break the bastard thing down.’
Bobby Adams was not a man to be kept waiting.
As Tommy opened his eyes, he wasn’t sure where he
was. He could hear banging and shouting and wondered if he was
still at Mustapha’s. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and recognised his
own living room. Seconds later everything came back to him. Lucy,
James, the baby – he remembered the whole caboodle. Guessing that
James had come back to either kick off again or apologise, he
staggered to the front door. Seeing Bobby Adams sent shivers
through his spine.
‘You took your fucking time,’ Bobby said, as he
pushed him into the lounge.
About to tell him to fuck off, Tommy noticed the
colour of his face and shut his mouth. Bobby’s nose and cheeks were
beetroot red and that was never a very good sign.
‘What’s up, Bob?’ he said, in a grovelling voice,
as he was shoved onto the sofa.
With a look of pure disgust on his face, Bobby
stood over him sneering. ‘Look at the fucking state of you, and
you’ve got the cheek to call yourself a man, Tommy Hutton? You had
everything, boy, and you fucked up big time. You’re now a junkie.
How clever are you, eh?’
Tommy shook his head. He needed to dig himself out
of this one, fast. Arms spread in innocence, he tried to excuse
himself.
‘You don’t understand, Bob. Me baby was born today,
it was premature and it died. A little girl, it was, and we lost
her.’
Bobby stared at him with revulsion. How dare he
blame the poor baby? The cunt had been out of his nut for months
and hadn’t given his unborn child a second thought. ‘I’ve no time
for sob stories, Tommy. In fact, I don’t care if you’ve lost your
mum, nan, or virginity. I’ve come here tonight for one reason only
and that’s to tell you you’re out of the fold. I don’t want you
working for me any more – you’re a fucking liability.’
Tommy was shocked. He might have fucked up a bit
lately, missed a couple of runs, but he’d always been loyal to
Bobby, fucking loyal. Knees shaking, he stood up to face the
man.
‘Look Bob, I know I’ve messed up a bit recently,
but I’ll get meself sorted. Why are you binning me? What have I
done to deserve that?’
Unable to stop himself, Bobby grabbed his neck with
his goalkeeper-sized hands and shoved him against the wall. ‘Don’t
take me for a fool, Tommy. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out
that you were knocking about and selling smack with that filthy
fucking Turk?’
As he squeezed Tommy’s neck, Bobby laughed at his
fear. ‘Well, answer me. Did you?’
Tommy could barely breathe, let alone talk. As
Bobby let him go, he slid down the wall.
‘I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry,’ he
croaked.
Bobby shook his head and walked towards the door.
As he opened it, he turned around. ‘Oh, and there’s a couple of
other things. Number one, don’t even think of grassing us up,
’cause I’ve changed the whole set-up and, number two, stay away
from Freddie.’
Tommy was shell-shocked. ‘Whaddya mean, stay away
from Freddie? He’s me best fuckin’ mate.’
Bobby smiled. ‘Not any more, he ain’t. I mean it,
Tommy, stay away from my nephew. If I find out you’ve been within
ten foot of him, I promise you, I will fly back from Spain and
personally kill you with my bare hands. Understand?’
Tommy nodded. He didn’t have the guts to
disagree.
Cursing that the kitchen door was locked, James
gave a gentle tap. After half-a-dozen large brandies, he’d realised
that the only person in the world he wanted help and advice off was
his mum. Knowing that Maria was probably still next door, he’d
parked his car in the street behind and hopped over the fences. He
couldn’t face seeing her, not yet anyway. He’d toyed with the idea
of ringing Freddie and demanding if he knew the truth, but he
decided against it. Freddie had been friendly with Tommy ever since
their Feltham days and it wasn’t fair to put him in such an awkward
position. Not only that, James wasn’t sure whether he wanted to
know, or could handle the truth himself just yet.
Having put Alfie and Johnny to bed earlier, Maureen
was unable to concentrate on the telly and had chosen to have an
early night herself. It had been a truly awful day, full of drama
and upset. Even now, her mind couldn’t rest. She’d spent the last
hour tossing and turning. Hearing a noise outside, she sat up.
She’d heard something a few minutes ago. She was about to get up
and investigate, when there was a thud against her window that
sounded like a stone. Nervously, she peeped through the
curtains.
James stood by the big plant, frantically waving
his arms at her. She opened the window, ‘Whatever’s the matter,
love?’
‘Ssh,’ he said, holding his forefinger to his lips.
‘Open the door, I need to talk to yer,’ he whispered.
Maureen put on her dressing gown and did as she was
told. Surely there wasn’t another drama on the horizon. With the
day she’d had, she couldn’t bloody stand it.
As she opened the door, she saw the state of his
face. His forehead was red raw, his nose looked as though it had
taken a clump and his eyes were starting to blacken. In fact, he
looked like he’d run into a brick wall.
‘Oh, James, my poor baby. Whatever’s happened to
you?’
The tenderness of her voice and the concern in her
eyes was all too much for James. Throwing himself against her
chest, he clung to her and sobbed like the baby she had just called
him. Maureen stroked his hair as though he was a little boy all
over again. Her James had never been a fighter and she hadn’t seen
him cry for bloody years. She knew whatever had happened to him was
serious, and she dreaded hearing the truth.
James felt a right wuss as he pulled away from her.
He was twenty-five years old, and here he was crying like a fucking
newborn.
Maureen forced a smile. ‘I’ll make us a nice cup of
tea, shall I?’
James shook his head. ‘I need something stronger,
Mum. Beer, brandy, whisky, anything’ll do.’
Maureen handed him a lager. She didn’t want to
encourage him to drink spirits.
Sipping his beer, James launched into the story
from the very beginning. He told her about Lucy giving birth to the
baby, about the ambulance men who did their best to save the child
and about Lucy’s piercing screams on hearing her daughter was
dead.
As his mum wiped her eyes and blew her nose, James
changed the subject. It was time to tell her about Tommy.
‘You should have seen the state of him, Mum, when
he answered the door. He looked like a fuckin’ tramp, he was
totally out of his head. I took one look at him, saw red, and gave
it to him. I told him his fortune and he lost the plot. He went
mental, he did, and started head-butting me.’
Maureen gasped. She’d never imagined in a million
years that James’s injuries came from his brother. How could his
own flesh and blood do that to him?
‘I’ll never have him darken my door again, James,
and I mean it this time. I can’t believe he’s done this to yer. If
I get my hands on him, I’ll fuckin’ marmalise him.’
James carried on – he needed to get to the Maria
bit. ‘I wasn’t gonna hit him back, Mum. I was gonna walk away, but
he started calling Maria a slag and I went apeshit and clumped him.
It was awful Mum, really awful.’
Maureen rubbed his arm. ‘I’m glad you fuckin’ hit
him and I hope you walloped him hard. He’s no good James,
he’s . . .’
‘Shut up, Mum, let me finish. When I was about to
leave, he was laughing at me, then he said he’d slept with Maria.
He said she’d lost her virginity to him and he started saying some
really nasty stuff about her. I’d have killed him if I’d have
stayed there, so I ran out, jumped in the car and went straight to
the pub. I couldn’t think straight and I needed a stiff drink to
calm meself down.’
As tears began to roll down his cheeks, Maureen
held him close. For years she’d had a feeling that something had
happened between Maria and Tommy. She’d clocked the atmosphere,
heard the remarks and smelt the hatred. She’d never said a word,
not even to Ethel, but she’d always, always known.
‘How am I gonna find out the truth, Mum? Do I
confront her? Beg him to tell me? Ask Freddie? What should I
do?’
Taking the brandy out of the cupboard under the
sink, Maureen poured two large glasses. Lager was no use to the
poor little sod with the shock he’d just had. Handing one to James,
she sat opposite him and sipped her own. ‘Do nothing, boy. If Tommy
was drugged up he was probably talking rubbish. Can you imagine how
poor Maria would feel if you went home and accused her of something
she’d never done? It could ruin your marriage, love.’
‘But I need to know if it’s true, Mum, I can’t live
a lie.’
Maureen took a large gulp of brandy. She’d lived a
lie for years and was an expert on the subject. ‘Only you can
decide what to do, James, but my advice would be to let sleeping
dogs lie. It’s just Tommy being vindictive, that’s all it is. If I
was you, I’d forget all about it.’
James sipped the rest of his drink in silence. Part
of him wished he could take his mum’s advice, but he knew he
couldn’t forget. He had to know the truth and the only person who
could provide him with that was Maria. He finished his drink and
stood up.
‘I’m going next door, Mum, and if she ain’t there,
I’m going home to ask her. She’ll tell me the truth, I know she
will.’
Maureen plastered on a fake smile. ‘You do what you
think is best, love.’
Wishing him luck, she shut the front door. It was
time to cry her own tears now.
Maria put her book down and stared at the ceiling.
She’d left her mum’s and come back to the flat hoping that he’d be
there, but he wasn’t. Her mum’s birthday surprise had been totally
ruined. She wasn’t worried about that any more; she wasn’t even
annoyed. Something had happened, she could feel it in her bones. It
was so out of character for James not to contact her. Even if he
was still at the hospital with Lucy and his phone was dead, he’d
have called her from somewhere.
Her eyes followed a fly leave the ceiling and walk
down the wall. Either he’d had an accident or Tommy had opened his
poisoned mouth; there was no other explanation. Guessing it was the
latter, she prepared herself. She couldn’t lose James – not now,
not ever.
As she heard his car pull up, her stomach lurched.
Hearing the door open, she took a deep breath. One look at his face
told her all she needed to know. He knew.
‘I’ll make us a coffee and you can tell me all
about Lucy and the baby,’ she said brightly.
James waved away the offer of the coffee and walked
towards her. ‘I need to talk to you, Maria. I saw Tommy earlier and
he said something about you and him. He –’
Maria had no choice other than to interrupt him.
She had to drop her bombshell before he could drop his. ‘Guess
what, James?’
‘Can’t you just let me finish for once, Maria?’ he
said angrily.
She shook her head. ‘No, I can’t. Whatever you’ve
got to say is not as important as what I’ve got to say, and I’ve
been waiting all day to say it. I’m pregnant, James, me and you are
gonna have a little baby.’
James felt like he’d been shot in the back. Rooted
to the spot, he was totally unable to show any emotion.
Maria smiled at him. ‘Well, say something,
then.’
James was dumbstruck. He could hardly drop the
accusation that Tommy had made now.
Maria threw her arms around his neck. ‘I thought
you’d be ecstatic. Please say something, James.’
James responded to her hug and held her tightly.
With tears in his eyes, he smiled at her. ‘Ecstatic is putting it
mildy – I’m over the bloody moon!’
Maria looked him straight in the eye. ‘Now, what
did you want to tell me that was so important?’
James shook his head. ‘I can’t remember now.’
Maria smiled. ‘Well, it obviously wasn’t that
important in the first place, then.’
James turned his head away. If only she knew.