The Traitor

by Kimberley Chambers

  Dominic smiled. He hadn’t seen Joey enjoy himself so much for ages. ‘I think she’s lovely and I also like your dad. Once you get to know him, he’s a sound type of bloke.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’ Joey asked proudly. He had never really thought of his dad in that way before.

  Gina walked back into the room and handed the boys a champagne flute each.

  ‘Where’s Madonna?’ Joey asked.

  Gina smiled. Madonna had just eaten a plate of fillet steak and was currently lying in the garden with her legs in the air basking in the sun.

  ‘She’s fine. She’s in the garden sleeping off her dinner.’

  Eddie walked in, picked up a champagne bottle and popped the cork. He poured everybody a glass and held his up.

  ‘To us and new beginnings,’ he said.

  Joey, Dominic and Gina all raised their glasses. ‘To us and new beginnings.’

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Frankie stood in the shower and stared at her stomach as she sponged herself down. She was nearly four months gone now, and even though this pregnancy had been the easiest out of the three, she felt more unattractive than she ever had before. Usually Frankie was in and out of the shower in minutes, but this morning she felt much dirtier than she’d in a long time. The reason was that she’d had to have sex with Jed.

  Jed had come in late last night and had not only been drunk, but also amorous. Frankie had told him that she had a headache, but he hadn’t listened and had pinned her to the bed. ‘We ain’t had a bunk-up for ages. Don’t you love me any more?’ Jed had slurred.

  All Frankie could think about was getting her hands on that tape recorder, so she hatched a plan. ‘Go and have a shower and I’ll be ready and waiting for you,’ she said in the most seductive voice she could muster.

  ‘I ain’t dirty,’ Jed replied.

  ‘You’ve been out working all day. Jump in the shower, it won’t take you a minute.’

  Cursing under his breath, Jed did as she asked, which gave Frankie the perfect opportunity to creep outside, get the tape recorder and hide it in the wardrobe.

  The sex had been all over in minutes. When Jed was drunk, he was only concerned about receiving pleasure rather than giving it. Frankie wasn’t bothered by his selfishness. The boyfriend she’d once lusted after now made her skin crawl.

  ‘Hurry up, Frankie. What the fuck you doing in there?’ Jed shouted.

  Frankie turned the shower off. ‘Sorry, I won’t be a sec.’

  Putting the king-size towel around her, Frankie shuddered as she stared at her drab reflection in the mirror. In less than a couple of hours, she would have listened to the cassette and its contents would be sure to map out her future.

  Stanley sat at the table with his head in his hands. Distraught didn’t begin to cover the way he’d felt this morning when he had walked into the pigeon shed and found Ethel had followed Ernie to the pearly gates of heaven.

  Not knowing what to do to lift Stanley’s depression, Joycie made him a cup of tea and cut him a slice of homemade apple pie. ’Ere you go, love, eat this – it will make you feel better.’

  Stanley lifted his head and ungratefully pushed the plate away. ‘How is a slice of apple pie going to make me feel better? Ethel’s just died – don’t you understand how upset I am? I told you she was heartbroken over Ernie. If only you’d have let her live indoors for a bit, she’d have probably got over her loss.’

  Feeling herself losing patience, Joyce picked up the dishcloth and furiously wiped the sink. ‘You’re gonna have to pull yourself together, Stanley. I know you’re upset, but it’s a fucking bird that’s snuffed it, not me or your grandkids. Can’t you pop down to the pet shop and buy yourself another one?’

  Stanley looked at his wife in disgust. Joyce really didn’t have a clue. He stood up. ‘You are one callous, self-centred old crow. Buy another one, buy another one! What do you think my Ethel was? A fucking chicken you pick up in Sainsbury’s? I loved Ernie and Ethel, Joycie, loved them with all my heart I did, but you wouldn’t understand that, would you? And I’ll tell you why, shall I? Because you’re an evil old witch!’

  As the front door slammed, Joyce ran to the window and was surprised to see Stanley drive away. ‘Where’s he going? The silly, bald-headed old tosspot,’ she mumbled to herself.

  Ten minutes later the phone rang and Joyce ran into the hallway. Perhaps Stanley was ringing to apologise for the awful names he had called her.

  As she pressed the receiver to her ear, Joyce was greeted by silence. ‘Is that you, Stanley?’ she shouted angrily.

  ‘Nan, it’s me. Can you talk?’

  ‘Oh, hello Joey. Yes, your grandad’s just stormed off in one of his little tempers. I’m here on me own. Aren’t you at work, love?’

  ‘Yeah, but I had to ring you. Guess who I had dinner with yesterday?’

  Joycie was still smarting from Stanley’s comments and wasn’t really in the mood for guessing games. ‘Frankie?’

  ‘No, my dad. He came round on Saturday, Nan, he said that he had spoken to you. He invited me and Dom around to his house yesterday for dinner and we had such a good time. We really have cleared the air and we got on better than we have done ever. He was really nice to Dominic and he even invited Madonna over and gave her a plate of fillet steak.’

  Joyce grinned. She knew the speech she had given Eddie had hit home, but she hadn’t expected a reconciliation to happen this quickly.

  ‘Joey, I’m so, so pleased. I know what happened to your mum was awful for all of us, but your dad’s a good man deep down – he always was. Have you made any plans to see him again?’

  ‘Yeah. The four of us are going to a pub on Friday night.’

  Joyce paused. ‘What do you mean the four of you? Who else is going? Frankie?’

  Annoyed with himself for putting his foot in it, Joey bit his lip. His dad had said that his nan was aware of Gina, so he may as well tell her the truth.

  ‘Actually, Nan, Dad’s friend Gina is coming. She was there yesterday, she cooked the meal for us. She’s a really nice lady and I’m sure that you’d approve of her.’

  Joyce felt her eyes well up. She knew that Eddie had to move on with his life, but the thought of him being with another woman still cut like a knife. ‘I’ve got to go now, Joey, your grandad’s just come back,’ she lied.

  Joyce replaced the receiver, walked over to Jessica’s framed photo and picked it up. ‘Well, I think Eddie’s finally moved on now, my darling, and I hope you’re OK about that. More importantly, he’s made things right with our Joey and I hope if you can see that from heaven, my angel, you can finally rest in peace.’

  Frankie was filled with adrenalin as she handed the tape recorder to Kerry. The boys were playing in the garden, Kerry’s sister was round at her mate’s, so it was just the two of them and a bottle of wine. Kerry poured two drinks and handed one to Frankie.

  ‘You ready?’ she asked.

  Frankie held her breath as Kerry pressed the play button. Unlike their last failed attempt, Jed and Sammy’s voices could be heard quite clearly this time.

  ‘And how was the wonderful Frankie today?’ Sammy asked sarcastically.

  ‘As miserable as fucking usual.’

  Sammy laughed. ‘Where we going now, then?’

  ‘Let’s go and see them pair of Dorises over in Barking, eh?’

  ‘Who’s Doris?’ Frankie whispered to Kerry.

  ‘They’re talking about two old tarts. That’s what Sammy calls ’em, the dirty pair of bastards,’ Kerry replied.

  ‘You ever shagged a blackie before?’ Sammy asked.

  ‘Nah, but I can’t wait to stick my cory into that Angela’s tight pussy. I wanna just see what it’s like. What about you? You ain’t shafted a black bird, have ya?’ Jed replied.

  ‘Nah. But let me know if it’s any good and I might shove my cock up Angela’s tight black pussy an’ all,’ Sammy joked.

  Kerry and Frankie looked at one another in disgust.
/>   ‘I hate him. I have to leave him now,’ Frankie cried.

  Kerry grabbed Frankie’s arm. ‘Sssh. They’re talking about that Julie.’

  ‘She keeps banging on about having a brother or sister for Tommy boy. I’ve been stalling her, but I might agree to it soon. I mean, it don’t look like Kerry’s coming back, does it? I miss me boys, but a minge is a minge at the end of the day and seeing as Julie’s a better fuck than Kerry, I might as well lay me hat at hers or, better still, get her to move in with me.’

  Kerry dropped her wine glass on the floor in shock. She stood up and pressed the pause button. ‘The fucking no-good bastard! He will never see my boys again, Frankie, I’ll kill him if I have to. How could he say stuff like that about me? I gave him the best years of my life.’

  As Kerry burst into tears, Frankie put her arms around her and squeezed her tightly. ‘It’s OK. Let it all out, mate. It’s not you, Kerry, it’s Sammy – the man’s an animal and so is Jed. They are both fucking arseholes and how we fell for their sweet talk and charm in the first place, I will never know. We’re better than them, worth far more, and we’ll get over this, I know we will.’

  Stanley was sitting at a table in the Orsett Cock public house. He had never frequented this particular boozer before, but a few of his pals from the pigeon club used it regularly and were rather fond of the place.

  As his mate Brian handed him a pint of beer, Stanley noticed the blonde lady staring at him again. He had seen her clocking him earlier – she wasn’t one of their usual crowd. Seeing her smile at him, Stanley gave a nervous wave and turned to Brian.

  ‘Who’s that woman with the blonde hair? Is she with one of the men? Only I’ve never seen her before.’

  ‘I can’t remember her name, I’ve only met her once before myself, but she’s a new member of the club. Derek was telling me that she has the most incredible insight and knowledge of pigeons. She’s new to the area apparently, recently widowed, I think, and Derek said she’s moved here from the East End to be closer to her daughter and grandchildren.’

  Stanley was impressed. A woman who knew and could talk pigeons: that was a first. He glanced at her again and as the woman caught his eye, she boldly walked towards him.

  As Brian stood up, Stanley panicked. ‘Where you going? Don’t leave me on me own with a woman I don’t know.’

  Brian laughed. ‘Just nipping to the gents. I won’t be long.’

  Apart from Joycie and his beautiful deceased daughter, Stanley had never felt all that comfortable in women’s company. As the blonde lady sat down next to him, the first thing he noticed was her massive cleavage. She had a low cut white top on and, in Stanley’s opinion, her breasts looked like a couple of rugby balls. Not knowing what to say or do, Stanley began to shuffle his feet. He then began choking and a sudden coughing fit came over him, as it always did when he was nervous.

  ‘Are you OK?’ the woman asked, concerned.

  ‘Been eating peanuts. One went down the wrong hole,’ Stanley replied, gasping for breath.

  The woman waited until his coughing fit had subsided, and smiled. She held her hand out. ‘Pleased to meet ya. I’m Patricia, but everyone calls me Pat the Pigeon.’

  Stanley’s hand shook with nerves as he returned the gesture. As a young boy, he had been obsessed by women’s breasts, but Joycie’s were like a pair of fried eggs compared with the pair confronting him now. Not knowing where to look, he stared into Pat the Pigeon’s eyes. They were beautiful, as blue as the sea and full of honesty.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. My name is Stanley,’ he stammered.

  Frankie and Kerry looked at one another in utter disbelief. They had just listened to half an hour of vulgar conversation and had felt the need to pause the tape again. It was Kerry who finally ended the silence.

  ‘What a pair of cunts! I can’t believe it,’ she said bluntly.

  Frankie said nothing. She was still in shock from what they had learned and it was now blatantly obvious that all the weekends Jed and Sammy were supposedly working away, they were actually spending around Sally’s and Julie’s. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, they had also spoken about other girls they had on the go. They had even bragged about what they had done to two prostitutes the previous month.

  ‘I feel sick. He made me sleep with him last night – say I’ve caught something?’ Frankie wept.

  Kerry hugged her friend. ‘It’s all over now. Once you leave him, he can’t hurt you any more. I dunno about you, but I need another drink. I’ll open another bottle of wine before we listen to the rest.’

  ‘I don’t wanna hear no more. My stomach can’t take it,’ Frankie replied tearfully.

  ‘We have to, Frankie. We don’t want them dirty bastards getting their hands on our kids, do we? All we’ve got so far is evidence of their philandering and we need evidence of their dodgy dealings to be able to get our own back. If we can prove that they are robbing old people, we can threaten to go to the police to stop them seeing the kids. And if they don’t agree to our rules, we can take the tape to the fucking police.’

  Frankie watched her friend go into the kitchen, then gratefully accepted another drink. She shuddered as Kerry pressed the play button again. The contents of the tape had been far worse than she had envisaged. Jed obviously hated her with a passion and the way he had spoken of his sexual encounters with other women made her feel sick to the stomach.

  Kerry nudged her. ‘Who’s Harry Mitchell? Do you know him?’

  Frankie stared at her blankly. ‘Of course I do. He was my grandad, the one I told you about. Why you asking?’

  ‘I’m sure Sammy just mentioned him. Shall I rewind it?’

  Frankie nodded. Kerry must be wrong, Jed hadn’t even known her grandfather. As Kerry pressed ‘play’ again, Frankie listened intently.

  ‘Do you know who that old grunter Mr Franks reminds me of?’ Sammy said.

  ‘Surprise me. Come on, who? It certainly ain’t Arthur Daley,’ Jed replied jokingly.

  ‘Harry Mitchell. Don’t you think that Franks looks like him?’

  Shocked by the mention of her grandfather’s name, Frankie got down on her knees and crawled towards the tape recorder. The voices were still clear, but there was now music in the background. Putting her ear right next to the speaker, all Frankie could hear was Jed’s laughter. Then she heard his voice.

  ‘I don’t remember what Harry Mitchell’s face looked like when he was alive. The only vision I’ve got of that rotten old shitcunt is the face we left him with on his deathbed. Do you remember him begging me to stop beating him, Sammy boy? “Please don’t kill me,” the silly old cunt was saying. Best night of my life, that was. Getting revenge for my own grandad, God rest his soul, beats fucking any bird I’ve ever shagged.’

  Frankie stopped the tape, turned white and collapsed on the carpet. Kerry crouched down next to her. She couldn’t understand the recording properly because Patsy Cline was singing in the background.

  ‘What is it, Frankie? What did they say?’

  Without warning, Frankie clutched her stomach and started to heave. Kerry was frightened now, really frightened.

  ‘Are you OK? Is it the baby?’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘They killed my . . .’ she whispered. She couldn’t finish the sentence, the words just wouldn’t come.

  Kerry sat Frankie up and propped her against the sofa. She looked incredibly ill and scared.

  ‘I think I should call an ambulance. You really don’t look well, Frankie.’

  As Kerry stood up, Frankie gripped her arm as though she would never let it go. ‘No, please don’t.’

  Kerry crouched down again and cradled Frankie’s ashen face in her hands. She was crying herself now. She was frightened, really frightened.

  ‘What is it, Frankie? Please tell me.’

  Frankie met her gaze with a haunted look in her eyes. Her voice was wobbly and sounded nothing like her own.

  ‘Jed and Sammy, it was them that murdered my grandad,’
she croaked.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Kerry looked at Frankie in bewilderment. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be true. Jed and Sammy might be womanising con men, but surely they weren’t capable of murder?

  ‘Are you sure that it’s your grandad they’re talking about? I mean, Mitchell is quite a common name, ain’t it? Say they’re talking about a different Harry Mitchell?’

  Thinking of her grandfather’s awful death, Frankie retched. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as a mouthful of vomit flew over the carpet.

  Kerry ran into the kitchen and returned with a cloth and a plastic bucket.

  ‘It’s definitely my grandad, I just know it is. The thing is, what do I do now? I can’t tell my dad, because he will kill Jed and get himself locked up for life,’ Frankie wept.

  Kerry kneeled down next to her. ‘You have to tell someone. What about Gary and Ricky? They’ll know what to do, won’t they?’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘I can’t tell them, in case they tell my dad. I know me and my dad aren’t speaking at the moment, but I do love him and I can’t see him go to prison again. He will kill Jed, Kerry, he won’t be able to stop himself. I so wish my mum was alive; she would know what to do.’

  ‘Well, in that case I think we should go to the police. We can hand them the tape and get them to listen to it in front of us. They will have to lock Jed and Sammy up then and when they do, I hope they throw away the fucking key.’

  Frankie could feel her legs wobbling as she stood up and sat on the sofa. She could hear Harry laughing in the back garden and her heart was filled with pain. One day she would probably have to explain to her children that their daddy was a cold-blooded murderer.

  Kerry sat down next to Frankie and hugged her. She looked frightfully ill and Kerry was really worried.

  ‘I know this isn’t easy, Frankie, but you need to start making plans immediately. You’re not going to stay at the trailer tonight, are you?’