by Martina Cole
Tony Brown had never liked Aiden more. He had been forced to grow up at a young age and he didn’t resent Reeva for that, he loved her for keeping them together. Tony hoped to God that Reeva knew how lucky she was – his kids were like fucking leeches in comparison.
‘Do me a favour, Tony, will you? Don’t break her heart too much. Every bloke that leaves destroys her a little bit more. She ain’t a bad person. She’s just a girl who needs a lot of love, that’s all.’
Tony grinned and said sadly, ‘I’ll try, mate, but you know what she can be like.’
Aiden laughed. ‘You’re preaching to the converted, Tony!’
As they pulled into a farmhouse, Aiden looked in awe at the beautiful property that was reached through electronic gates. From the mullion windows to the pristine blue of the pool the house said ‘class’.
Tony stopped outside the front door and shut the engine off. ‘This is the home of Eric Palmer. He is the biggest drug dealer in the South East and he’s looking for a few lads to distribute around London using the train services. There’s a good few quid in this if you do it right, and I have a feeling that you’ll be shrewd enough to play this opportunity for all its worth. Now, you sure you are up for it?’
Aiden O’Hara smiled gamely. ‘Is the Pope a Catholic?’
They laughed together and went into the beautiful house.
Chapter Thirteen
Eric Palmer was a small man with a big voice. He was self-made and a legend in East and South London with the reputation for being a good businessman – fair but hard – and outrageously ruthless. You only ever fucked up once and that was it.
He looked Aiden over and smiled disarmingly, displaying very expensive teeth as he said jovially, ‘You’re a big lad for fifteen. How’s Reeva these days?’
Aiden shook hands with him and said with careful nonchalance, ‘She’s my mother and she is doing well, thank you.’
The warning was clear and, instead of being insulted at the boy’s words, Eric Palmer immediately took a shine to the kid. He had heart and loyalty. Loyalty to his mother showed fucking true grit as far as Eric was concerned. Most men would have disowned that whore sooner rather than later.
‘Good on you, son. Remember, wives come and go but you only get one mum.’
Aiden smiled that handsome smile he had and Eric Palmer decided that he liked him. He had something about him − something he could use to his advantage. He offered Aiden a cold bottle of beer and then he took them out to the patio around his swimming pool. As they sat down, Eric could see the boy looking around him in wonderment. He also saw the glint in his eye; this kid could be a grafter. A serious grafter. According to Tony, who wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, Aiden was a mathematical genius. And the younger you got them, the better, as far as Eric was concerned. You could mould them into what you needed for different jobs and, if they had the nous, they then went on to bigger and better things. If they couldn’t hack it, they were taken out of the game in the early stages of play. That was the way of the world they inhabited.
‘So, Aiden, I need a lad to recruit for me a series of other lads who are too young to be nicked for serious crimes. I need product moved all over the Smoke and by public transport. The Filth never really take kids into the equation. I need you to be as silent as a fucking mute and, if by some extraordinary chance you do get a capture, you keep your trap shut no matter what the Filth might threaten you with. Because what they threaten you with will be nothing compared with what I will fucking do to you, OK?’
Aiden shrugged and said intently, ‘I’ll keep my mouth shut, Mr Palmer, as long as you make sure my mum gets a decent wedge every week.’
Eric looked at Tony and the two men began to laugh their heads off. ‘Oh, Tony, I think this kid will do.’
Aiden took a pull on his beer and then joined in the laughter. He was going to university all right, the University of Life. He wondered where this would take him and he hoped it would be somewhere he wanted to be.
In the car on the way back into London, Tony said seriously, ‘You did well there, kid. You could really bring in a good wedge, you know.’
Aiden nodded and said quietly, ‘Don’t worry, I intend to.’
Chapter Fourteen
1988
‘For fuck’s sake, Mum, why do you get this drunk?’
Aiden was annoyed. He had a lot going on tonight and the last thing he needed was to have to sort her out and any problems that she might have incurred during a whole day on the piss. At least Reeva was maudlin − that always was a good sign. It meant that she was on the verge of sleeping it off.
Patsy O’Hara rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Personally, he had had her up to the back teeth seeing as how he was the one who’d had to remove her from the working men’s club. ‘Honestly, Ade, you should have heard her! Fucking right embarrassing it was.’
Aiden felt for his brother but he still couldn’t allow him to be disrespectful to their mother. ‘Well, she’s had a lot on lately and you know she can’t cope with aggravation.’
Patsy sighed in annoyance. ‘Pity she has to keep causing it then, ain’t it?’
Aiden didn’t bother to answer him. They had all felt it at some point − it was what Reeva did to people. They loved and loathed her at the same time. But Aiden, being the eldest, felt he had a duty to take care not only of his mother but his entire family, especially his little sister.
Reeva was trying catch the drift of the conversation but it was beyond her. She had been drinking since 10 a.m. and everything and everyone had fled from her mind. She knew she was in the wrong, but she wasn’t exactly sure why. As she fell sideways on the sofa, and started to snore softly, little Agnes lay beside her and attempted to cuddle her.
‘What did the Old Bill say?’ Aiden asked as he put a blanket over them.
Patsy snorted in derision. ‘What they always say, Ade. “Just take her home.” You know she clumped Big Pete’s wife, don’t you? Nicest woman you could ever meet.’
Aiden sighed again. ‘I will sort out Big Pete and his fucking fat wife. Luckily he has a soft spot for Mum.’
Patsy laughed and said snidely, ‘Yeah. And the trouble is, she has a soft spot for everyone else, does our mum.’
The blow knocked Patsy off his chair and on to the floor. He looked up into Aiden’s angry countenance and shook his head in disbelief.
‘Why do you always stick up for her?’
Aiden looked fit to be tied and Patsy felt a glimmer of fear. ‘She is our mother and, no matter what anyone else thinks, she is the only parent in our lives. Yes, she goes off the rails occasionally but she is the only constant we are ever going to have, and the fact that she is our mother demands − fucking demands − our loyalty no matter what. I can’t believe you sometimes! For all her faults she would die for each and every one of us. She is a victim. Don’t you ever forget that.’
Aiden looked at his two youngest brothers and said gently, ‘Eugene, you take Agnes and try and amuse her. And you, Porrick, get Mum’s quilt and cover her up properly. I don’t think she could quite manage the stairs tonight.’
Both boys rushed to do his bidding as they always did. Aiden was the king of the household and they knew he was the provider in more ways than one.
Aiden took a twenty-pound note out of his wallet and said to Patsy quietly, ‘I have a bit of business tonight. Get this lot fish and chips and keep your eye on them, OK? I don’t know when I will be back.’
Patsy took the money and nodded at his brother. As he went to walk from the room, Aiden pulled him back and hugged him tightly.
‘I know how you feel, believe me, Patsy. But, seriously, she really can’t help it. You know her. She’ll be Mother of the Year tomorrow.’
Patsy shrugged and said honestly, ‘She forgot about Agnes again. We’ll end up with social services all over us like a rash if she don’t sort herself out.’
Aiden hugged him again, crooning gently, ‘I know, mate. I know. I will sort it, do
n’t worry.’
Patsy shrugged his brother off saying, ‘I hope so, mate, because she’s getting out of hand.’
Aiden watched his brother walk out of the room and he felt the urge to cry. He had a lot on and the last thing he needed was Reeva playing up.
Chapter Fifteen
Eric Palmer was a happy man. He had just got off with the biggest capture this side of the Thames, and that was because of one person. As Aiden walked into Eric’s offices in Green Lanes a cheer went up and Aiden, rosy red with embarrassment, laughed and accepted a glass of champagne.
‘You fucking Brahma, boy. How did you do it?’
Aiden shrugged. ‘Let’s just say I have a persuasiveness about me.’
Eric admired the lad. He should have known Aiden would not tell anyone anything with a room full of witnesses. That was the fucking beauty of this kid. He wouldn’t have a shit lest he thought it out and planned it down to the last detail. He was a natural-born villain.
‘Come through, son, and we’ll have a chat.’
Aiden followed the man happily. He liked Eric Palmer and he admired him. But, more than anything, he wanted to be him.
In the back office Eric poured them both a large brandy and, giving it to the boy, he said seriously, ‘This is thirty years old and far better than that champagne shite. Now, tell me how you did it.’
Aiden sipped the brandy and coughed as the strength of it hit the back of his throat. He liked the burn as it slipped down into his gut. He held the glass up in a toast and said genuinely, ‘I could get used to this, Mr Palmer.’
Eric loved the way Aiden was so respectful – he still gave him his title which spoke volumes as far as he was concerned. He was a tall, handsome lad and looked a lot older than his nineteen years.
Aiden sat in the chair opposite Eric’s and said in the usual quiet voice he used when discussing business, ‘Young Jimmy Croft’s dad got a big capture and he’s in for a lump, no getting away from it. So I told him to tell his dad that if he held his hands up there would be a oner a week for the family in it, and a guaranteed job when he came out. I also said his debts would be paid off. It’s ten grand but it’s cheap at that price, really. We both know Johnny Brooke would hassle him, even in the clink, would fuck up the family to get his money. Treacherous cunt, Johnny is. I mean, who goes after someone’s wife and kids? Wanker. So, that’s the score.’
Eric was over the moon. Aiden had got them out of deep shit for a lousy ten grand. It was fucking amazing.
‘All the statements have been done. I told the lad the main shit and he passed it on. I didn’t say anything until I thought it was all in hand, like. Plus some of that lot –’ he pointed with his thumb to the closed door –‘might have felt the urge to add their five bob’s worth and that would have defeated the object. This needed silence and solitude, if you get my drift. Now he’s going down happily, knowing his debts are paid and his family has a decent drink. I also guaranteed him an easy time in the clink. His own cell, et cetera. It was the least we could do, really, considering.’
Eric Palmer felt the urge to kiss Aiden. He had singlehandedly sorted out a serious bit of large, and he had done it quietly and without fanfare. This kid was a natural problem-solver who saw what needed to be done and then went for it without the fuss of muscle, threats or fucking violence − unless absolutely necessary, that is.
‘He will get that and more, my son. He has taken me out of a big fucking hole. And as for Dennis Harper . . .’
Aiden held up a hand and said seriously, ‘That’s the other thing. Dennis unfortunately died yesterday – heroin overdose in the Scrubbs. Drugs, eh? Such a problem in the prison system these days.’ He sipped at his brandy before saying, ‘That cost me five hundred bar. A mate owed me a favour.’
Eric Palmer was, for the first time in his life, speechless. Dennis Harper was a huge bugbear and Eric had not been able to get near him. That this kid had managed it put him in a whole other league.
Aiden basked in Eric’s abject admiration, which was just what he had expected and planned for. He was going places, and he was determined to do it on his own terms.
Eric Palmer jumped out of his seat and shook his hand roughly. Aiden could see the man’s gratitude in his eyes, in his stance, in everything about him.
‘You, my son, are a fucking diamond! I can’t believe you managed it.’
Aiden, who always played things down until he was sure of it working out, said quietly, ‘Well, let’s wait and see. I never count my chickens!’
‘Oh, it’s worked, my son. My brief was on earlier – we just couldn’t work out why I was out of the frame.’
Aiden shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Glad to be of help.’
Eric was thrilled and he said generously, ‘You are going places, and you are going those places with me.’
Aiden smiled that handsome smile of his that looked to all the world like he was as trustworthy as the Holy Father himself. And Eric Palmer fell for it hook, line and sinker.
‘Come on, let’s get back to the party. You, my son, deserve to have the night of your life tonight.’
Aiden O’Hara didn’t expect anything less. He had pulled off the seemingly impossible and, in many ways, it had been a lucky fluke. He had met the right people in the right places at the right time. But he wasn’t about to say that to anyone, least of all Eric Palmer.
Chapter Sixteen
Aiden came home at 2 a.m. to hear Tony Brown and his mother fighting. He was drunk and not in the mood for any more of their histrionics. He felt sorry for Tony in some ways because he knew that, despite his mother’s best antics, Tony did genuinely care about her these days. He’d stuck around anyway. But she was hard work for all concerned.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ The voice was loud and aggressive. As Aiden walked into the front room he saw his mother, awake now and up for a row, and Tony bending over her. But it was seeing Tony’s fear as he walked in that really affected Aiden. It told him just how much his reputation had been enhanced this night. It also saddened him, because Tony had been the nearest thing to a real father Aiden had ever known. He had also introduced him to Eric Palmer and he had put up with Reeva longer than anyone else had – indeed had apparently left his wife for her. That in itself was a miraculous fucking achievement.
‘Look, Aiden, I wasn’t going to clump her or anything . . .’
Aiden looked at the man in horror. ‘’Course you weren’t! Fucking hell, Tony. It’s me, Aiden. I know what a mare this one can be.’ He smiled at his mum. ‘Sober again, are we? Up for another row?’
Reeva was wrong-footed now. The fight left her as quickly as it had arrived. ‘You all right, Aiden, my son?’
Tony breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Aiden had that effect on people, and especially on Reeva. They adored each other. Strangely that didn’t bother Tony because he knew that, without her eldest boy, Reeva would have gone off the rails years ago.
‘I’m all right, Mum, unlike you, of course. You do realise that you forgot about Agnes again today, don’t you? While you were pissed and clumping Big Pete’s wife, your daughter was left to her own devices.’ Aiden smiled at Tony as he said in a friendly manner, ‘Put the kettle on, Tone, would you? I need to talk to Mother of the fucking Year here. Put her wise to a few of her failings.’
Tony was only too pleased to oblige. He could hear them talking from the kitchen anyway so he left the room quietly, pleased to see the contrite look on Reeva’s lovely, if infuriating, face. She really was the most aggravating female he had ever come across. Yet, like Aiden, he almost understood her. Aiden had explained to him once that his mum was so sure whoever she loved would leave her that she instinctively drove them away. It was something to do with her father walking out on her and her mother when she was a little girl, apparently. It was all a bit deep for him, if he was honest. But even the school had admitted that Aiden was a bit of a boffin so he assumed the boy knew what he was banging on about. He made the tea.
Reeva wa
s contrite as always when she sobered up and she listened to her son with a suitably tragic face. That trick had not worked since he was nine but now was not the time to point that out to her!
‘Look, Mum, you forgot Aggie again today and that really ain’t good, is it? Not only could she be hurt or kidnapped, but it could bring social services breathing down our necks again. And that is the last thing we need now.’
He was talking to her in a quiet, reasonable voice and she appreciated that. Her head was hammering and her mouth was drier than a buzzard’s crutch. She knew she was in the wrong big time and now all she wanted was a fag, a cup of tea and her bed – in that order.
‘Where is Agnes?’
Aiden stifled a smile. ‘She is in bed, like the others. But I mean it, Mum. Our Patsy has got the right hump with you and he has every right.’
Reeva closed her eyes and nodded. Then she lit herself a cigarette and was grateful when Tony brought in the teas. Tony winked at her and she felt the urge to cry. He had lasted a lot longer than any of the others and, even though she had a sneaky feeling that was because of her Aiden and his business acumen, she did believe that there was a part of Tony Brown that genuinely cared for her. Though, like everyone else, she couldn’t think what that could be. The tea revived her and she sat up straighter. The thing with Reeva was, even after all the kids, all the drink and all the drugs, she was still a beautiful woman.
‘I promise you, Aiden. I will be good in future. But I had a shit day. That old bag in the Co-op was on my case again this morning. I weren’t in the mood for it. I mean, what the fuck have I ever done to her? She is like the wronged wife every time I go in there. Sniffing and looking down at me.’ Aiden laughed and said, ‘You had taken five Dexedrine, Mum. I slapped Billy Marshall today and told him if he ever sold you anything but puff in future I would kill him. So save the stories for Agnes at bedtime, eh?’
