The Take

by Cole, Martina

  The kids were scrubbed and dressed up, as was Jackie, and there was still no sign of Freddie Jackson.

  The ancient stereo was playing ‘Use It Up And Wear It Out’ by Odyssey and Maggie thought the song title was more than appropriate for her brother-in-law’s homecoming.

  Where was he, and more to the point where was Jimmy?

  Maggie saw her mother roll her eyes in her father’s direction and knew that Jackie had seen the gesture too. Jackie looked lovely in a powder-blue top with huge shoulder pads and a long black skirt, and even though both were a little too tight, she was elegant. Her hair was blow-dried around her face and she was wearing too much make-up as usual, but that had always been her style. The glitter on her eyelids made her look sexy, and she had beautiful eyes. If only she could understand just how good looking she could be.

  She was also hammering the wine, which was not a good sign.

  ‘Where the fuck is he?’ Her dad’s voice was loud and could be heard even above the music playing.

  ‘Leave it, Joe.’ Lena’s voice was lower, trying to prevent a scene.

  ‘You dragged me here, woman, so I have every right to ask where the fucking party boy is.’

  ‘He’s just got out of nick, he will be in the pub with his mates where you normally are after a stretch.’

  ‘I always came home first, Lena, be fair.’

  He was wrong-footed now and, knowing his wife’s knack of causing a major war over a few badly chosen words, he retreated quickly as she knew he would. But he hated the way Jackson treated his eldest child. He used her, he had left her with three kids and enough debt to sink the Titanic, and she still treated him like he was something special. When would that stupid girl learn? He was a waster, a user, a fucking leech.

  Jackie was bad enough on her own but with Freddie Jackson pressing all the wrong buttons she would be a nightmare. She didn’t just love him, she tried to absorb him into her. Freddie was like a cancer eating away at his daughter and her jealousy knew no bounds where he was concerned.

  Now it would all start once more, after six years of relative quiet, and he wasn’t sure he could cope with it again.

  Maddie Jackson was a small woman with greeny-blue eyes and a small cupid’s bow mouth. Her slight frame belied a strength of character and a violent temper that even her large daughter-in-law was in awe of. Her only son was the apple of her eye and she would not have one word said against him by anyone. She had lied and perjured herself for him on many occasions from his school to the Old Bailey, and now her baby was coming home she could barely contain her excitement.

  She glanced around the small council house and took in every detail. It wasn’t her clean but in fairness to Jackie she tried her best. Not that she would ever tell her that of course. Renewing her drink she walked sedately back into the front room and, seeing her husband talking to a young girl, she sighed inwardly. He would never change. All the time he had a hole in his arse, as her mother used to say, and over the years she had seen the truth of that remark many times. He had fathered three outside children and slept with her sister and her best friend yet she still loved him, so who was the bigger fool?

  Putting together a plate of food for her husband she walked over to him and saw with relief the girl take the opportunity to get away from him.

  Freddie Jackson Senior took the food gratefully and then inspected the chicken leg. He took a large bite and said through the mouthful of food, ‘He better get his arse in gear. I ain’t hanging about all night for him.’

  He didn’t mean it, she knew that he was looking forward to seeing his boy. He was, after all, a mirror image of himself as a young man and who could resist that? Who could resist seeing themselves replicated in another human being? He loved his boy even while he was jealous of his youth. Freddie Senior had kept his charm, but drink and debauchery had quickly put paid to his handsome looks. Her son must have inherited one of her genes, though, because no matter what he did Freddie still looked good.

  Maddie saw Jackie throw back another glass of wine in seconds and recognised the warning signs of her daughter-in-law’s phenomenal temper. Jackie’s face sank somehow, as if the life was draining from it, and her eyes became hooded. She looked as if she was on drugs and, knowing Jackie, she probably was.

  Maddie watched the girl’s mother pushing her towards the kitchen and trying to calm her down. At times like this she was sorry for Jackie, was reminded of herself as a young woman, not in looks but in the bewilderment at the treatment from a man who she adored.

  A man who could not even come home to see his children, but had to spend the day with his friends as usual. Six years banged up and nothing had really changed.

  The pub was packed, the music was thumping and everyone was treating Freddie to drinks. He was a Face now. He was twenty-eight years old, he had done a lump and he was also a different man to the one who had gone away all those years ago. He was regaling them with stories of people they had only ever heard about but who he assured them were his blood brothers now.

  Jimmy was worried about how fast time was passing while his cousin looked like he had no intention of going home at any time. Let alone in time for his own party.

  ‘Come on, Freddie, we got to get a move on. There’s a big party at your house in your honour.’ Jimmy’s voice was high now, it was gone nine o’clock and he knew there would be murders. ‘All the family will be there and your mum’s dying to see you.’

  He knew that mention of his mother would lessen Freddie’s anger.

  Freddie stared at the younger man for a few moments before hugging him tightly to him and kissing the top of his head. ‘You are a fucking good kid, Jimmy me boy.’

  Jimmy basked in his cousin’s pleasure.

  ‘You’re the business, Freddie, everyone knows that.’

  It was what he wanted to hear, needed to hear.

  ‘Come on, guys, grab a few bottles, it’s back home to the horror of family life for me.’ Freddie squeezed a few choice behinds as they walked from the pub, pointing towards a particular girl every few seconds and smiling at them.

  Jimmy saw Donny Baxter wink at him with respect, and understood for the first time ever what made his cousin enjoy his reputation so much. Little Jimmy was buzzing, but Little Jimmy was also a six-foot-two man with the want inside him now.

  Freddie was home and all would be right with his world.

  Maddie saw the girl making sheep’s eyes at her husband once more. Time was she would have caused murders, but nowadays she was glad in some ways since it kept him from wearing her out on a nightly basis. She just wished he wouldn’t chat them up in front of her, it was humiliating.

  What was it that made these men so desirable?

  The violence? The feeling of only being alive when you were around them? The danger of knowing they could be gone again in days, hours even?

  And Freddie was the same, he was like the spit out of his father’s mouth. That was another one of her mother’s sayings.

  As if Maddie’s thoughts had conjured him up her son pulled up outside the house in a large white stretch limousine. As he fell out of the door she could hear his raucous laughter. He was drunk. Happy drunk, but drunk all the same.

  Still, she consoled herself, and justified her son’s abandonment of his family by thinking no one could blame him. Banged up all that time, he would need to let off steam.

  Kimberley, Dianna and Roxanna watched as their father strode up the overgrown garden path and, walking straight past them without even a glance in their direction, burst into the house.

  Kimberley, the eldest and therefore old enough to remember the fighting and the arguing, said little. The two younger ones had eyes rounded with excitement. The man their mother harked on about constantly had just breezed past them smelling of brandy, cigarettes and unwashed clothes.

  A small retinue of friends followed him sheepishly into the house. Unlike Freddie, they were aware that they should have been here hours ago.

 
Jimmy’s father, James, watched carefully - he, like his wife, Deirdre, had never rated Freddie, and their son’s worship of him worried them.

  Jackie heard her husband’s booming voice and ran from the kitchen on her high heels, her face a bright red mass of anger and also excitement.

  ‘Freddie!’ She jumped into his arms and he held her off the ground with difficulty, hugging her tightly before putting her down roughly.

  ‘Fuck me, girl, you weigh a fucking ton! But don’t worry, I’ll soon shag you back into shape.’

  He looked around him happily, proud of his quip, thinking he was the man. After all he was the reason they were all there in the first place.

  Jackie’s family stared at him in disbelief as Jackie herself beamed with positive happiness.

  The King was home, so God help the Queen.

  Book One

  Woman, a pleasing but short-lived flower,

  Too soft for business and too weak for power:

  A wife in bondage, or neglected maid:

  Despised, if ugly; if she’s fair, betrayed.

  - Mary Leapor, 1722-1746 ‘An Essay on Woman’

  Do not adultery commit;

  Advantage rarely comes of it.

  - Arthur Hugh Clough, 1819-1861 ‘The Latest Decalogue’

  Chapter One

  Jackie awoke to the electric pain of a hangover, her eyes felt as if they had been sprayed with hot sand and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  In seconds she realised her husband was not beside her.

  Even after only one night she was aware of him. After he had been sentenced it had taken her a long time to accept that he would not be coming home to her. Heavily pregnant, she had felt his absence acutely. It had been hard losing him like that, but she had waited. Waited and longed for him. While he was in prison all she had thought about was her man, and not a day had passed when she had not missed him and felt almost a physical pain.

  But now he was out he didn’t even recognise his home any more.

  Sighing, she was about to drag herself from the bed when she heard the unmistakable sound of Roxanna’s laugh. It was like a fog horn, loud like her mother’s but full of infectious humour like her maternal grandmother’s.

  She could hear her husband’s own loud laugh following her daughter’s and smiled to herself. The girls were older now, he might find them a bit more interesting. He had never really got to know them before, and she hoped that now he was finally home they could all start being a proper family.

  Kimberley came into the small bedroom with a mug of hot sweet tea. At nine years old she was a ringer for her father: dark haired and blue eyed, she had his natural arrogance.

  ‘All right, love?’

  It was a question and they both knew it.

  ‘To hear him going on you’d think he’d been at a five-star hotel, not inside one of Her Majesty’s holiday camps.’

  Jackie knew this was her own dad talking, but then Joseph had been more of a father to the girls than Freddie so what could she expect?

  ‘Don’t start, Kim, it’s been hard for him away from us.’

  ‘Been hard for us and all, Mum, don’t forget that, will you? To hear him talk you’d think he’d had the time of his life.’

  At nine she had more wisdom than someone ten times her age, and this was what made her mother angry with her. Kimberley never knew when to leave things alone.

  ‘Well, he’s home now, ain’t he.’

  Kimberley sniffed loudly in disdain as she said, ‘And don’t we all know it.’

  Freddie was surprised at how much he was enjoying his kids, they were good-looking, bright girls. He’d have liked sons though, and after last night’s gymnastics he had a feeling he might get one before the year was out. One thing he would give Jackie - she was as up for it as he was. A bit of how’s your father was all she needed to keep her temper at bay. A few compliments, a couple of touch ups and she was his.

  Once he had her nice and pregnant he could start to take the piss properly. She was a blinder in some ways, old Jackie. No matter what he did she forgave him. She understood him, and he loved her for that much at least.

  But even he saw the need to keep close by for a few days. He was well aware of what happened when you were banged up. People sniffed round, wanted a bit of what you had. As far as he could see Jackie had been a diamond, but you never knew, she liked the old one-eyed snake, so he would keep out a wary eye.

  If she had done the dirty on him she was a dead woman.

  ‘Did you learn to cook in nick, Dad?’

  Roxanna said this very seriously and he answered her in the same vein, the eggs and bacon in the pan sizzling away.

  ‘No, sweetheart, Daddy could already cook. Why?’

  Roxanna said, with six-year-old sweetness, ‘I thought we could send Mummy, you cook nicer than her any day.’

  Freddie laughed loudly. This youngest child of his was what was known as a case.

  He glanced around the kitchen. It was shabby but clean enough, he supposed. He would have to sort out a few quid though, get the place smartened up. He needed a home that befitted his new status in life.

  Some of the blokes he had been banged up with had country houses! Acres of land, swimming pools, and what did he have? A poxy semi-detached house on a council estate. Their kids went to private schools, mixed with the best. What was it his old mate Ozzy used to say? ‘It’s not what you know but who you know.’ How fucking true that was.

  He had watched them in nick, and what a fucking education it had been. They all had nice fit birds visiting them, all dressed like fucking footballers’ wives, with ready smiles and diamond rings. He had been gutted at times when Jackie had turned up in her jeans and her fucking sheepskin coat. But in fairness she couldn’t afford any decent clobber, she had been given no compensation.

  The thought of compensation darkened his brow.

  She deserved it, she should have been worth a few quid, not fucking scrimping on the social.

  He would sort that all out this afternoon.

  Lena Summers opened her front door and roared, ‘You knock like the filth, young Jimmy.’

  Smiling, Jimmy walked into the kitchen, nodded to Joseph and, taking a mug from the draining board, poured himself a cup of tea.

  ‘She ready?’

  Lena laughed. ‘Is she ever? Only just jumped in the shower.’

  She was buttering toast and she automatically handed him a piece. He crunched on it happily.

  ‘How did it all end last night then?’

  He shrugged, looking too big for the small kitchen. His loyalty to his cousin knew no bounds, but he was also loath to upset Lena or Joseph.

  ‘It was a good night, Mrs Summers, he was just a bit excited, that’s all. He’s been banged up for yonks . . .’

  ‘Should have fucking kept him there if you ask me.’

  Lena turned on her husband. ‘Well, no one asked you, did they?’

  She turned back to Jimmy. ‘Was Jackie all right? I mean it didn’t all end up in a fight?’

  He smiled then. ‘It was fine, honestly. When I left they were slow dancing together, with little Roxanna asleep on Freddie’s shoulder.’

  Lena smiled, her fears allayed for a few days. The fighting would come, they all knew that. But she wanted her daughter to have at least a few days of happiness first.

  If ever two people should keep away from each other it was Freddie and Jackie Jackson. They had courted from school and Lena had loathed him on sight. Jackie had always been a handful at the best of times, but it was as if he had possessed a hold over her from day one. She was obsessed with Freddie and at first the feeling had been mutual. It was only when the kids had come thick and fast that he had started his gallivanting. And like her mother before her Jackie had hunted down and blamed the women. If only Lena could get her to understand that without the men these women wouldn’t exist. But she knew herself how much it hurt, how it ruined your self-esteem. How it coloured the whole
of your life until you either sank or you swam with it.

  Her daughter would never learn to swim, God help her. She would sink a little bit more each time, the bitterness eating her up alongside the jealousy.

  Maggie breezed into the kitchen all smiles and Rimmel make-up.

  Joe Summers said indulgently, ‘Your lift’s been waiting ages.’

  She grinned. ‘My lift always waits ages.’

  She grabbed a piece of toast and a mug of coffee and, kissing her mother and father, she walked out of the house quickly. She always left the mug in his car and he returned it when he could. They were nice kids.

  Lena and Joe watched as the big, hulking boy followed her as always.

  ‘He’s a good kid, Joe.’

  Joe sniffed loudly. ‘She could look further and fare worse. He dotes on her. And she has got the right idea, that one, keeps him on his toes.’

  ‘As long as he ain’t got her on her back.’

  Joe eyed his wife scornfully. ‘Give her a bit of credit, will you? She’s too shrewd, I’m telling you.’

  Lena sat at the small pine table and said sadly, ‘She’s so young, Joe. She’s only fourteen.’

  ‘So were you, Lena.’

  ‘And look what happened to me.’

  ‘You didn’t do too bad, you got me didn’t you?

  She laughed disdainfully. ‘I won the pools me, did I?’

  They laughed together as Lena wondered what he would do if he knew his young daughter was on the pill.

  Men, they never saw what was in front of their faces.

  Micky Daltry was happy today. His wife was in a good mood because he had bought her a new coat and shoes. His kids were all at her mother’s house, and they were going out for a nice slap-up meal to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

  She was a good one, his Sheila, and he was sensible enough to know that. She kept the place clean as a pin and the kids were well dressed and well behaved. They all had her looks, thank God, and his nous. A winning combination.