Gangsters Wives (17 page)

‘No. I'm better off on my own.'

‘Well, give him my best,' he said. ‘I always got on with the old man.'

‘You didn't have to live with him.'

‘That's true. Anyway, I've got things to do myself.'

I just bet you have, she thought.

The next morning she got up early, leaving Robbo in bed, showered and dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, had a sparse breakfast which she couldn't eat, her stomach tied up in knots at the thought of seeing her father after such a long time. Around ten she got into her car and drove to the old house in Plaistow where she'd known such sorrow, and where she'd watched her mother dying.

Nothing much had changed there. It was a big place for the area, a corner property hidden by high walls and hedges. As she parked outside and walked up the front path she noticed that the flower beds that had been Dolly's pride and joy, blooming with bright fragrant flowers, were now unkempt and choked with weeds.

She knocked on the front door and Ben opened it. ‘Hello darlin',' he said. ‘Long time.' He went to embrace her, but she backed off. ‘Like I said, not long enough,' she said. She hadn't seen Ben for years either.

‘Be like that then.'

‘What did you expect? Hearts and flowers?'

‘You've grown hard Katie.'

‘I had good teachers.'

‘Listen,' he said as they stood in the hall. ‘We did what we could. The boys and me. But we had our own lives. You were just a kid.'

‘Old enough to know what was going on with mum.'

‘I'm sorry about that. But you know what she was like. She wouldn't hear a word against him.'

‘She was stupid.'

‘Don't talk about mum like that.'

She ignored his comment. ‘Where is he?' she asked.

‘In bed. You want some tea?'

‘If you like. Anybody else here?'

‘No. We take it in turns. We've all got work and kids. You've never seen my youngest. I've got a photo.'

He pulled out his wallet and showed Kate a photo of a pretty little girl in a party frock. ‘Her second birthday,' he said. ‘You could've come.'

‘Yeah,' she said. ‘But I didn't. Now, how about that tea?'

Ben made a pot in the kitchen. Kate remembered being a young girl, sitting on the wooden chair in the corner whilst Dolly cooked and poured out her troubles to her. The kitchen hadn't changed much either. Just a bit more used. Like us all, thought Kate.

She sat at the table as Ben poured her a cup then heard a knocking on the ceiling above. ‘He's awake,' said Ben. ‘I'll take him up a cuppa, and tell him you're here.'

He poured a third cup and went upstairs. He was gone for ten minutes, and Kate drank the bitter brew. It reminded her of the bitter times when she'd lived at home, and the fact that Ben had never been able to make a decent cuppa to save his life. She smoked a cigarette to calm her shaking hands and stubbed it out in her saucer.

When Ben returned, he said. ‘He's going to have a wash and shave, and take his meds. He's glad you're here.'

‘I'm not.'

‘Leave it out sis. Just for now. You don't know what he's like these days.'

‘Oh yes I do.'

Ben shook his head, but said nothing.

Just like old times, Kate washed up her cup, dropping the cigarette butt into the rubbish bin. Old habits die hard, she thought. If you left crocks lying around when she lived here she got the sharp edge of Johnny's tongue, and sometimes worse.

Eventually there was more hammering on the ceiling, and Ben said. ‘He's ready. He wants to see you on his own.'

Lucky me, thought Kate, but she didn't bother to say it.

She went out of the kitchen and climbed the familiar stairs to the first floor. Johnny and Dolly had shared the master bedroom, and she pushed open the door and looked inside. It was gloomy there, the curtains drawn, and smelled like a hospital. Sharp, with an overlying stink of bodily corruption, and Kate almost gagged. ‘Is that you Katie?' asked a familiar but weakened voice from the bed.

‘It's me.'

‘Come in girl.'

‘Haven't you got a light in here?'

‘It's not pretty.'

‘Just put the light on Dad, I'll break my neck otherwise.'

She heard a fumble, then a dim bulb in the bedside lamp came on. Johnny Wade was propped up in bed by two pillows. His face was the colour of urine, and his eyes were like a pair of fried eggs in a face so gaunt she hardly recognised him. His once black hair was grey and thin and his hands on the covers shook uncontrollably. He saw the shock on her face and said. ‘Told you.'

She looked around the familiar room now transformed into a hospital ward with an oxygen tank, a stand for a drip, a Zimmer frame, a TV mounted on brackets, and a table covered in pill boxes. ‘Christ, Dad,' she said. ‘It's like
Casualty
in here.'

‘Ain't it just. Come close, let me see you.'

Kate did as she was bid and he peered at her closely. ‘Christ. Just like your mother. Where you been girl? I've missed you.'

Kate almost laughed. ‘Yeah, that's right Dad. You've had nobody to knock about.'

‘That's not me any more. Come closer. Sit down.'

Kate went to his bedside and perched on the edge of the mattress. Johnny reached out a trembling hand. After a moment she took it. All the strength seemed to have gone out of him and it was like holding an old glove full of fish bones. Suddenly Kate was no longer frightened. She was the strong one now, and she could have broken his wrist like a breadstick.

‘How long have you got Dad?' she asked.

‘Not long love. Not long at all.'

‘So what am I supposed to do?' Kate spat out.

‘A bit of sympathy wouldn't hurt.'

‘Like what you gave me and Mum. And the boys, for that matter.'

‘I did my best. I fed and clothed the lot of you.'

‘Out of what?'

‘The same as your old man now. Don't get all righteous with me.'

‘I hear that's what you've got,' she said. ‘Religion, isn't it?'

For the first time she noticed a beaded rosary around his left wrist. ‘Come on Dad, what's all that?'

‘I was confirmed a Catholic.'

‘Were you?'

‘Did my stint as an altar boy until the priest started to fiddle with me. I gave him a smack and never went back to church.'

‘Until now.'

‘I need it. Listen Katie. Forget what's been between us. I need to talk.'

‘To confess?'

‘I done that already. The priest comes every few days.'

‘But doesn't fiddle about I assume.'

‘I'm a bit old and ugly for that these days.' He laughed. A dreadful sound that turned into a fit of coughing, and he put the oxygen mask over his face. ‘Yeah. But I do need to confess to you. I know I treated you and Dolly bad. But we never expected you to come along, and when you did…'

‘I wasn't wanted,' Kate finished for him.

‘You were a jewel. We all loved you. But you went off the straight and narrow.'

‘What the bloody hell do you know about the straight and narrow for Christ's sakes? All I did was because of you.'

‘The same old Kate,' he said. ‘Always got the hump.'

‘So what's the confession Dad? Smacking me and Mum around? I know all about that already.'

He was suddenly serious. ‘No love. Worse than that.' He hesitated. ‘Listen. I know I've been a bad man all my life. Despicable. But now I'm going to meet my maker and I need to make recompense.'

‘How?' she asked.

‘I want to tell you a story. I need to get this off my chest with one of the family.'

‘And you've chosen me,' she interrupted.

‘Right.'

‘I don't think I want to hear.'

‘It's up to you. I know you think badly of me, and this will only make it worse. But I loved you Kate, and still do. Whatever happened between us. And I think you're the only one I want to know about something I did. I don't know why, but I do. Listen, there's a bottle of scotch in the cupboard over there. Wrapped up in a towel. Get it for us will you.'

‘You've got cirrhosis.'

‘Too late to worry about that now. You got any fags? Those buggers won't let me smoke, none of them.'

‘They'll kill you. That and the booze.'

‘The way you feel, you'll probably be glad.'

‘Maybe.'

‘Who gives a monkey's? Not me. I'm too far gone for that. Go on gel, do your old man a last favour.'

She looked at the old geezer in the bed. A faint shadow of what he had been, and felt a momentary pang of pity, although she didn't want to. She suddenly thought of being woken in the middle of the night when Johnny had been working and came home with presents for her and Dolly. Expensive stuff. Toys and games and books for Kate, perfume and fancy clothes for Dolly. She remembered being allowed to get up all sleepy-headed and seeing her mum and dad dancing in the front room to some old Elvis record, and tears filled her eyes. ‘All right Dad,' she said. ‘Just this once. Got a glass and something to use for an ashtray?'

‘Now listen Kate,' he said when they were both lit up, plastic beakers of scotch in their hands. ‘I know I ain't got long. My liver's fucked, and I'm living on borrowed time. But there's something I've got to tell you.'

‘I don't know that I want to hear.'

‘Maybe not. But I need you to. Before I tell you, come here, let me have a look at you. It's been too long.'

She did as he asked, smelling death on his breath.

He peered closely at her face. ‘What's that?' he said. ‘A bruise. How'd you get that?'

‘Have a guess,' she replied. ‘Robbo's like you were.'

‘He hits you?'

‘What do you think?'

‘Christ, I'd like to get my hands on him.'

‘Now
you're
the one getting righteous,' she said, pulling back. ‘You gave enough bruises to me and Mum in your time.'

‘And I'm ashamed.'

‘Sure.'

‘I mean it. I'm sorry.'

‘Too late for that Dad,' she said. ‘Far too late.'

‘It's never too late to ask for forgiveness Kate. I've learnt that. And I want you to forgive me.'

‘Can't be done Dad.'

‘I'm sorry you feel that way. But there's something else. Something I haven't even told the priest.'

‘What?'

‘I killed some people.'

‘Quite a few if what I've heard is right.'

‘No, you don't get it. I've
had
people killed. People who took liberties with me and mine. They knew what they were doing and took a chance. I'm talking about me personally killing people. Innocent people really. In cold blood.'

‘What are you talking about Dad?' she asked, suddenly chilled in the overheated room. She didn't want to hear. Just wanted to go home.

He sensed her discomfort and gripped the sleeve of her jacket with some of his old strength. ‘Kids,' he said. ‘Years ago. You remember the college boys shot to death in a motor down Southend way?'

‘What? When?'

‘February 2000. It was in all the papers. They never got anyone.'

Kate vaguely remembered seeing the TV news one lunchtime when she was waiting for
Neighbours
to come on, seeing coppers standing round uselessly, their breath steaming in the freezing air whilst a tarpaulined car was put on a low loader. ‘I remember, I think,' she said.

‘Shotgunned,' he said, staring off into space. ‘All three blown to bits. No motive. No one knew what they were doing there. But I do.'

‘What?'

‘They were university boys studying chemistry. Then they decided to do a bit of chemistry of their own. Making E tablets. And good ones too. Pure MDMA. Or at least as pure as you could get them days. They had a right little factory going inside the uni. Perfect it was. They came to one of the clubs I was at, and we did a deal, and they sold the stuff to us wholesale. It was a dream. Then a couple of the bouncers got greedy and decided to get in on the act. Upped the price a bit, and thought they could cut me out. They made a meet down some country lane, but some soppy bird one of them was shagging got wind of it, got pissed, and opened her stupid mouth too wide.'