The Take (39 page)

He found it hard to believe this was his blood relative, the man he had once looked up to, loved and admired. Now he was often hard put to even talk with him, and if Freddie knew just how much Ozzy had given over to his cousin in the last few years, he knew that Freddie would not be able to cope with it. He knew Freddie saw himself as the instigator of their empire, and he accepted the truth of this. But Freddie also conveniently forgot that if it had been left to him, they would have both been back on the pavement hustling within a year. He had wiped out Clancy and that act had given them the opportunity, but it was
him
, Jimmy, who had brought them to where they were now. Freddie needed to accept and understand that, but instead he saw himself as having
been done down
, the street expression for his situation. If he only looked at how he lived, not a penny to call his own, expensive things bought for cash and then left to go to wrack and ruin. And Jimmy knew he had never once put a few quid away for a rainy day.

Yet this was the man who honestly believed he should be running what in effect, if legit, would be the equivalent of a big corporate company. They dealt with Europe, Africa, the Far East. Anywhere there was drugs or contraband to be exploited. Freddie did not know the half of it, and never would if it was left to him.

'So what are you going to do about him, Freddie?'

He shrugged. 'Only fuck himself knows the answer to that one, mate, and he ain't talking.'

Ozzy was glad when the cell was opened by a screw he trusted and owned. He motioned for him to come to where he sat on the bed and then he asked him to get two other inmates as he wanted to see them.

The man nodded.

Five minutes later, a young Irishman called Deny and a large black man called David bowled into the cell.

'What you want, Oz?'

He smiled. 'Get me to the wing doctor. Last night I was doing press ups when I cracked me fucking ribs.'

They laughed, as he knew they would but they did what they were asked.

Ozzy knew, one sniff of weakness and he might as well lie down and wait for the chiv to arrive. This way he had a valid reason to see the quack, and he knew the doctor well. He had been dealing out fucking contraband to the cons for years.

Maggie walked into the snooker room with young Jimmy in her arms, and smiled tightly at the two men. 'Shouldn't you be at home with your wife?' Freddie had noticed that over the years she had become more and more cocky towards him and he also knew that the more she pushed him, the more he would make her life a misery. Sometimes he left her alone for months, then out of the blue, when Jimmy had overlooked him, or he heard a whisper that Jimmy was involved with something he knew nothing about, he would remember this little piece before him and it would all start again.

'Come on, Mags, would you want to go home to Jackie?' Then, holding out his arms, he said to the child, 'Come to me, my little darling. He's his daddy's boy all right, like the spit out of his mouth.'

Maggie snorted in derision. Placing the boy carefully on the carpet, she said nicely, 'Go to Nana, sweetheart, while Mummy talks to Daddy.'

Even her voice was wrong when she spoke to the child, even her endearments sounded forced, but Jimmy Junior did as he was bidden.

'You stop trying to be nice to my boy, and try being nice to your own fucking kids. How about Kim, then? You going to see her? Only, you know you broke her leg, don't you?'

Freddie didn't know this, and Freddie didn't much care.

Jimmy said calmly, 'Come on, Maggie, this is not the time or the place.'

She snapped her head towards her husband and said angrily, 'Well, I am sorry, Jimmy, but I think it is.'

Freddie laughed then. 'Careful, you don't want to be in the doghouse now, do you?'

Maggie walked towards where he was sitting. It was a big room, with a snooker table and a pool table. It had a large and well-stocked bar and it was wood panelled. One of these men was the love of her life and the other was the canker that had grown inside her for so long she felt that she would explode with hatred. Yet she had to tolerate him no matter what. Because if the truth ever came out she would lose everything, and so would everyone she held dear.

The huge fireplace had a large leather wing chair on each side, and the men were sitting there as if they did not have a worry in the world. This made her so angry she felt she could physically attack them.

'Don't you try and cause a fucking row with me and him. Unlike
you
, Freddie, my husband respects me, and I respect him. But I would not expect you to understand that concept because you treat everyone in your family like shit. By the way, Kim is going into rehab. I sorted that out today, so you needn't worry about her. Not that you would.'

She was poking her finger into his face now and he could see the hate inside her.

'But I tell you now, Freddie, my sister is in bits and you need to talk to her about her drinking because for some unknown reason she thinks you care about her. So put your drink down, and get a cab, and fuck off out of my home.'

'You going to let her talk to me like that, Jimmy?'

Jimmy got up and stretched before saying, 'She has got a point, Freddie. It's time I got ready for work, anyway.'

Freddie couldn't believe what he was hearing. In his book Maggie should be getting the clump of a lifetime for that little outburst. Instead, she was still in his face.

'If you have anything else to say to my husband about me, say it
now. Now
, do you hear me? I dare you to say it to him now.' Her eyes told Freddie that he had lost this game, that she was angry enough to let the cat out of the bag.

Better to retreat on this occasion, and gather his ammunition for the future. Freddie put his drink down and walked silently from the room.

When the front door slammed Maggie turned to Jimmy and said sadly, 'Thanks, Jimmy.'

'I liked the way you fronted him. In his book I should have slapped you one upside your head. But he's a Neanderthal, he don't mean the half of it.'

'I can't have him here any more, Jimmy, not after this little lot. Poor Kim, and fucking Jackie, well…'

'I understand. I'll keep his visits to the minimum, all right?'

She smiled her thanks and he hugged her to him. For once she let him, relaxed against him.

At the breakfast table she was even relaxed with Jimmy Junior, even hugged him with real care and attention. He felt as if they had crossed over some invisible line, but why he should think that he had no idea.

Maddie, who had stayed for breakfast, winked at Jimmy from across the table, and it occurred to him that Freddie had left without even acknowledging his own mother's existence.

Chapter Twenty

Maggie and Rox were laughing as they chose the material for Rox's bedroom curtains. She was finally getting married to Dicky, and her happiness was complete.

'Oh, Maggie, that is lovely. You have such good taste.'

Maggie smiled. She had chosen a soft grey silk that she knew would look stunning against the pale pink paint that Rox was determined to have on her walls.

'Once you get married you have to live with this for a long time, so make sure you choose something that is not only good quality, but also durable.' She could hear herself giving this child advice, and all she wanted to do was go back and drag that lazy drunken sister of hers out with them.

Not that Jackie would be any use, but it was terrible that everything to do with this wedding and their new home was left to her to sort out. Maggie didn't mind, it was just that she knew Rox really wanted her parents to be involved. Her mother at least — Rox had never been her father's biggest fan.

Jimmy Junior ran up to her and Maggie picked him up with difficulty. At four he was getting a large lad, and she kissed him on his cheek as he said in excitement, 'I saw a clown, Mummy.'

The clown was a poster on the wall, and she knew he would ask to go to the circus, and she knew she would take him.

'It's the circus, Mummy.'

'And you are going, honey!'

He laughed out loud and she kissed him once more.

Rox watched them and sighed happily. Maggie was all right now, and had been for some time. It was as if she had changed overnight, she was happier, more carefree. And Rox loved her more than anyone in her life except her Dicky boy.

But Maggie went off at the drop of a hat these days, and everyone knew it. One word out of place and she was up for a fight. It was so out of character, yet so much a part of her now, part of this new and improved Maggie, that everyone just accepted it.

'You know you have to sort me out first, before you take any kind of a cut. That is what happens in this place no matter who you are.'

Ozzy's voice was heavy with anger and the man he was talking to was wondering if he was in with a chance of retribution. He looked around him, and wisely decided he wasn't.

Ozzy was impressed, though, that the young chap had actually
considered
trying to fight his way out of this reprimand, and this endeared the boy to him.

'Look, Ozzy, I didn't think you would be interested, mate.'

Ozzy laughed and shook his head slowly as if in the presence of the stupidest man in history. And he wondered if Carl Waters
was
the stupidest man in history.

He spoke loudly in his deep, serious voice, because unfortunately he had no other. 'Do not take me for a cunt. I know you run with a good crowd, but remember, son,
they
are out there, and
you
are in here. Any more cuntish behaviour and you will be on the hospital wing, see.'

Carl nodded, but he knew instinctively that Ozzy wasn't going to hold this against him. Ozzy was a realist and he would probably have tried it on just the same if he had been in his place.

'I am sorry, Ozzy. I am a mug, you are right. I just wanted a bit of dosh, that's all, and I have a little bloke who is willing to weigh me out.'

Ozzy grinned. 'You
will
ply your trade, son, I've no dispute with that. You will just trade in
my
name and give me a good drink, see. We ain't fucking that behind the times, though it seems like we are still in a feudal society to newcomers.'

It was more than the lad had expected, and he left the cell with a cheery demeanour a few minutes later.

Ozzy slipped a tablet under his tongue, and marvelled at a young man who had so much going for him, yet was happily taking the fall for a couple of complete fucking tossers. Carl had been on a robbery with two so-called Faces. The filth had jumped them on the chop, where they would change cars, clothes and if necessary divvy up the money before going their separate ways, which meant they must have been grassed up. How else would filth know where the chop was going to take place? This was a calculated fucking event, and this poor boy had been the fall guy.

So he had been caught, had kept stumm about who his accomplices were, and got himself an eighteen stretch. All his youth would be spent in this dump, while the older, wiser 'Faces' would still be on the outside plying their trades.

It was a fucking crying shame really, but the boy could be of use to him. He was young, he was willing and he could keep his trap shut.

Ozzy was ill. For a while now he had been on heart medication and he wasn't sure if he could do this any more. He needed to talk to Jimmy properly, and he decided it would be on the next visit. He was losing the urge for it all, and once that happened in their environment, you were living on borrowed time.

His sister Patricia was still trumping anything with a nice smile and a big cock, Freddie Jackson included, and he didn't entirely trust her any longer. As she was getting older she was getting less choosy about who she knocked about with, and this was becoming a worry to him.

He had serious poke and serious business to sort out, and now he was ill he had to do it. He had worked hard for his wedge and he had enjoyed the making of his money. So many people lost sight of that buzz when they made it to the big time, lost the want, and lost the respect for money that was actually a requisite for being rich. The spending of it had never been his forte, but the
gathering
of it was something he had lain awake at nights planning. He wanted to give his wealth to someone like him, someone who would use it wisely, someone who would understand just what it had taken to gather it in the first place.

He had to get his house in order, and he had to do it sooner rather than later.

He snapped his head around to look at his portable TV
Emmerdale
was just starting and he loved to see the wide open spaces it showed. He was sorry now he had never bothered with the Dales when he had been on the out. They looked lovely, stunning. So he enjoyed watching them by proxy, on Emmerdale Farm.

The birds were fit as well, so it was not a completely wasted half hour.

But he wished he could explain to the general population that even though they might go to Spain or America and travel all over the world, they did not know their own country. This annoyed him now, because he had realised over the years just what a green and pleasant land it actually was. If he had a chance to do anything different, it would be to make sure he travelled around England. People came from far and wide to live here. They saw it as a haven and as a place to make something of themselves, and it took all this time in stir for him to understand just where those people were coming from. Like the old adage, you never knew what you had till it was gone.

Well, that could be said of the people he had been dealing with all these years.

He was finally going to make his last will and testament, and he knew it would cause fucking ructions. So be it.

'Where is he, Jackie?'

She was panicking and this was annoying her husband.

'I don't know, Freddie.'

'Then you fucking well should! What the fuck are you getting my wedge for, eh? You can't even look out for little Fred. You know he is on a curfew, so where the fuck is he?'