The Take

by Cole, Martina

  Jackie was lighting a cigarette, and didn’t even bother to answer her mother’s question.

  ‘The airing cupboard is full of puff and the stink is going right through the house. I’ll fucking skin him when he finally turns up.’

  She was opening a brown vial that contained her Dexedrine and swallowed them down without a drink of any kind. Almost immediately, she picked up the bread knife and started to cut herself a sandwich.

  Lena took the bread knife off her and put the bread away. ‘How can you eat on those things?’

  Jackie laughed. ‘They take a while to work, but I smoked a joint on me way over and now I have the munchies.’

  Joe was almost catapulted from his chair then. ‘You what? Drugs is it now, you dozy mare!’

  Lena was trying to calm her husband down but he was roaring and swearing now in pure anger.

  ‘Fucking Persian rugs now, not just the slimming pills, and the slimming injections. Oh no, she has to start smoking the Jamaican Woodbines.’

  He pushed his face into his daughter’s and bellowed, ‘What about them poor kids of yours, eh? Bad enough they are lumbered with that useless ponce as a father, now they have to contend with you and all. He was higher than Halley’s Comet last night in the pub with that skinny little Hutchins girl hanging off his arm . . .’

  Maggie and Lena both closed their eyes in utter hopelessness at his words. As usual they had kept that gem of information to themselves.

  ‘What, little Bethany Hutchins? But she’s only a kid.’

  Jackie felt a wave of humiliation wash over her. The girl was well known. Bethany’s father, Alex Hutchins, and all her brothers were louts, drunks and thieves and Bethany was only seventeen. A young-looking seventeen, with high breasts and a shock of red hair. Her father would cause the Third World War over her and Freddie knew that.

  He wouldn’t?

  She looked at her mother and mouthed the words out loud.

  ‘He wouldn’t.’

  Lena sighed. ‘He already has, love.’

  Then she turned on her husband, who was quiet now, realising what he had just caused. ‘You couldn’t keep your trap shut, could you. Now look what you’ve done!’

  Jackie snapped to life then. ‘How long has this been going on, then?’

  Maggie sighed audibly. ‘A couple of days, that’s all. He was drunk in the pub, you know what he’s like.’

  ‘But I’m pregnant!’

  Jackie was silent once more, the shock had hit her at last and her secret was out. Her father started ranting again and Lena let him go because what he said was right.

  ‘And you are still pumping those Dexies down your throat when you’ve got a child cooking inside you? Have you no fucking care for anyone or anything, girl?’

  Jackie was wrong-footed now, but she was too angry to care. ‘Everyone knows that stimulants can’t hurt the baby—’

  ‘That’s an urban myth, Jackie, and you know it. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.’ Maggie’s voice was hard and even Lena was taken aback at the disgust it held. ‘Whatever he is or he ain’t, you married him and you keep taking him back. No wonder he walks all over you and has no respect. He’ll skin you alive if he thinks you’ve been taking pills while you are in the club and I for one won’t blame him.’

  Jackie turned on her little sister then, because the truth of the words hit her like a cold shower. ‘Don’t you fucking lecture me, madam. I know what you and Happy Harold get up to on my settee.’

  For the first time ever Maggie wasn’t frightened of the woman towering over her. Instead she was so angry she felt as if she could fight her own end if needs be.

  She shouted into her sister’s now shocked face. ‘Oh shut the fuck up, Jackie, me and Jimmy are courting. You should be ashamed of yourself!’

  ‘She ain’t got no fucking shame. If she did she wouldn’t be with him!’

  Jackie turned on her father then.

  The screaming was reaching crescendo when Maggie picked up her bag and coat and left the house. She was shaking with anger at the knowledge her sister would take any kind of drugs while carrying a child, even if the child was fathered by a piece of shit like Freddie Jackson. It was wrong, so very wrong. And if she stayed near Jackie she would not be responsible for her actions.

  Outside she breathed in the cold air to try to calm herself down. Freddie had been home for eight months so Jackie could be a few months gone. She had always had a big stomach and since the last one it was even harder to tell, plus she still didn’t stop eating even with all the pills she popped.

  Maggie lit a cigarette and started to walk to her friend’s. She needed to distance herself from her sister for one night at least.

  Jimmy would know where to find her if needs be.

  Siddy Clancy was laughing and Freddie laughed along with him even though he didn’t think the joke was funny. But he knew how to play the game, he knew the score.

  Siddy had heard about the rip-offs and Freddie had been expecting a tug, he had just expected it sooner.

  In fact the reason he had lost so much respect for Siddy was because he had swallowed it for so long. Freddie was guessing, rightly, that someone up the food chain had finally collared Siddy for a word and now he was doing his Doris Day act.

  They were both drunk, drinking heavily to prove a point. Freddie was aware that he had sunk one too many vodkas for his own good. But then he looked at Siddy and realised the man was gone. He was completely out of his box and this was made even more apparent by the fact he was talking too much about Ozzy and Ozzy’s business.

  Freddie looked around the small saloon bar and noticed that it was nearly empty, then he remembered they were on afters and it was an Ozzy-friendly pub. One he had bought and managed many moons ago, before he had been sentenced for armed robbery and conspiracy charges. The murder had never been proved, however, but he could still be brought to book over it, everyone knew that.

  Filth wanted him to stay where he was for the duration and at this moment in time so did Freddie. He saw an opportunity and he was determined to take it.

  ‘What are you trying to say, then?’ He frowned. ‘You insinuating that Ozzy ain’t straight up?’

  His voice was loud and he knew the conversation was being listened to by Paul Becks, who ran the pub, and his wife Liselle, a pretty girl whose demeanour hid a psychotic personality.

  In his drunken state Siddy had let his guard down, and now he was playing the big man, playing the part he had always played thanks to his inexhaustible supply of brothers and his natural aggressiveness.

  ‘All I am saying is Ozzy has been away a long time, and this is my fucking manor now.’ Somewhere in his drink-addled brain a small voice was telling him to go home, that Freddie was not the man to boast to. But he was enjoying himself, he was enjoying bigging himself up even though in reality he didn’t need to do it.

  Siddy lit a cigarette with difficulty and when he finally puffed on it to get it alight he started coughing.

  Freddie looked at Paul and shook his head sadly. ‘Get home, Siddy, you are talking too much.’

  It was said with contempt and Freddie knew that he had in effect thrown down a gauntlet. He planted his feet firmly on the floor ready for an attack,

  Ozzy had always told him, ‘You give people the bullets and they will fire them’. How right he was.

  ‘What do you fucking mean!’ Clancy was annoyed now he had been caught out. He had assumed Freddie was up for the gossip and now he knew he was wrong he wanted to shut him up.

  ‘Fucking Ozzy is a nice bloke, I don’t dispute that, but he’s been away ten years and he still has a big lump before he’s eligible for parole. It’s me who’s run the fucking streets for him, me and my brothers.’

  He swallowed down his drink in one gulp.

  ‘Don’t you fucking come the old woman with me, mate. I knew him when we was kids.’

  Freddie laughed then. ‘Well, I was banged up with him, and he is straight up, he is doing
his bird with a smile. And a cheery wave. You can’t even imagine what A grade is like, mate, let alone a double A cat prison. You never been inside, have you? Not even a remand.’

  It was said contemptuously as if there was an underlying reason for it, and even in his cups Siddy knew he was wrong-footed. ‘What do you mean by that? You fucking wanker...’ Paul Becks walked closer to the counter where he always kept a loaded shotgun for events such as this.

  Freddie held up a hand in a gesture of friendliness. ‘Go home, Siddy. We are drunk and you are getting mouthy about Oz and he was fucking good to me in stir. He looked after me and I can’t stand here and let you bad-mouth him.’

  Freddie was keeping a wary eye on his protagonist and Paul and Liselle knew that. They were for Ozzy, who had also been very good to them. Consequently, at the moment they were with Freddie. For all Clancy’s brothers they knew it was Ozzy who called the shots. Even from the SSB unit in Parkhurst.

  They also knew that the only reason Freddie had ended up there was because he was a lunatic who had had more fights and arguments with screws than any other person in the prison system.

  He was an unmanageable, someone who everyone was wary of, screws and cons alike.

  Chapter Three

  ‘How far gone is she?’

  Maggie shrugged. ‘She never said. Me dad let the cat out of the bag about that Bethany and she went ballistic. Then she said she was in the club, and we had all seen her just drop the Dexedrine. If Freddie knew...’

  Jimmy nodded. He could understand the fear in her voice. ‘Fucking hell, he’d go bonkers. He has his faults but he does love them kids.’

  Maggie looked at him incredulously. Freddie could afford to love the kids, he hardly ever saw them. Whatever her sister was or wasn’t, she had looked after them all from day one to the best of her ability.

  ‘Are you having a laugh or what? Loves them kids? He is never home. He don’t even know them.’

  Jimmy sighed as if it was all too much trouble for him, and he looked so much like Freddie then that she felt a chill go through her.

  ‘Take it from me, he loves them girls. He just wants a boy, that’s all.’

  He said it with such aplomb he could have been talking about himself, and this was not lost on Maggie. She had had a glimpse into the future and at the moment it did not augur well as far as she was concerned. Jimmy was spending too much time with Freddie, but that could be rectified.

  Maggie tossed her long blond hair as she snorted in derision. ‘Who’s he think he is, Henry the Eighth? He wants a son?’

  This was lost on Jimmy who had no knowledge of history unless it involved the lineage of someone he knew about.

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  Jimmy shrugged. He had tracked her down for no other reason than he fancied a quick tumble with her before he picked Freddie up from the Becks’ pub. He loved her, but sometimes he just wanted a bit of the other with no aggravation. With her sister and his cousin, though, that was nigh on an impossibility. He adored her, he could not imagine life without her in it, but every now and again he just wanted a faceless fuck, and like all men of his ilk he saw it as his due. So, taking a deep breath he answered her as he knew she wanted him to. ‘Fucked if I know, babe.’

  He was putting the ball back in her court, because the way things were she was going to call the shots. He was supposed to be at the pub by now but he had waited for Maggie instead and it had been a waste of time.

  Now he was gutted, and he was sick to death of Freddie and all he entailed as well.

  Paul and Liselle looked at the two men warily.

  Siddy looked ferocious, but it was Freddie their money was on. Plus, Freddie had Ozzy’s best interests at heart. And for all Siddy’s family connections no one in their right mind would attempt to have Ozzy over. Even Siddy’s brothers would take a step back if they knew what he had been mouthing off about, and knowing Freddie they would hear about it sooner rather than later.

  He would need to justify any violence and back up any claims of Siddy being disloyal to Ozzy. That is where they would come in and they were willing to do just that. Ozzy might be banged up but his finger was still firmly on the pulse of all his enterprises.

  ‘Go home for fuck’s sake, Siddy.’

  Once more Freddie was mugging him off and Siddy knew it. Even through his drink and his drugs he knew he had entered a lion’s den of aggravation and there was nothing he could do about it, he was too far gone. If he walked away now he lost all respect from his peers, and yet if he stayed and fronted it out he would also lose respect because he had caused it, he had created the situation in the first place.

  It was the ultimate insult, but Freddie said it so nicely that anyone who wasn’t in the know would not understand the seriousness of it.

  Siddy was losing all reason now because of the way Freddie was talking to him. He could hear the disrespect in his voice, see the arrogance in his stance and almost smell his own humiliation. He was drunk, he was stoned and he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Paul watching him warily, knew he had his hand on the shotgun under the counter and also knew that he would shoot him without a second’s thought before he would shoot Freddie Jackson.

  Freddie was flavour of the month with everyone lately, even Siddy’s own family. He had taken over so much it was only now, with the situation in hand, that he finally understood he had been played like a fighting fish and Freddie Jackson had reeled him in.

  He picked up a pint pot by the handle and gathering all his strength he attempted to smash it into Freddie’s face. Pint pots could do serious damage, they were heavy glass and they were a good weapon.

  ‘You fat cunt.’

  Freddie sounded as if he was waiting for it, which Siddy conceded he most probably was. Siddy knew when he was beaten.

  Freddie had stepped back and grabbed his wrist, which held the pint pot, then, smashing Siddy’s arm down on the bar, he waited until he had dropped the pot before he began systematically beating him with closed fists, and eventually finishing the beating with his feet. The pint pot was smashed over Siddy’s head for good measure.

  As Siddy lay on the dirty carpet he could smell beer, sick and his own blood. He should have gone home, but it was too late now. He knew he had walked into this fight without any kind of redress. Freddie had repeatedly asked him to leave and in the cold light of pain he knew he was finished.

  Freddie, for his part, was euphoric. He had done what he had set out to do, he had witnesses to Siddy’s utter disregard for Ozzy and his predicament, and he had the goodwill of all Ozzy’s workforce, many of whom were sick and tired of Siddy and his crew.

  Freddie was out of breath now he had finished his business with Siddy, and he looked at Paul and Liselle in mock distress as he was handed a double brandy. Knocking it back in one gulp, he was surprised that he suddenly felt as sober as a judge. Extreme violence could do that to you, he had found out over the years. It was as if the adrenaline cancelled out the alcohol somehow and left you feeling more alive and alert than you had ever felt before.

  He kicked Siddy in the head a few more times, holding on to the bar so he could use all his considerable strength for the attack.

  Siddy was groaning, and throwing up beer and vodka all over himself and the floor.

  ‘Throw that cunt out, will ya? Fucking wanker, he is.’ This from a small man in the corner who was playing cards with his brother-in-law. It was a measure of Freddie’s newfound credibility that the man felt confident enough to call a Clancy a cunt in public, though they had all said that and worse in private over the years.

  Paul looked into Freddie’s eyes and grinned, and his grin told Freddie he had just found himself a friend for life.

  Now all he had to do was find a few more, and he would be home and dry.

  Jackie was frightened. Her secret was out and her father had been more than vocal about what he thought of her and her an
tics, as he kept referring to her drug taking. Her mother, for once, had not attempted to keep the peace and Maggie walking out had not helped the situation. That her Maggie had walked away from her had hurt. No matter what she did, Maggie had always stood beside her. Maggie idolised her and she needed that adulation, everyone else mugged her off over the way Freddie treated her, if not to her face then behind her back. Maggie was the only one who really cared about her whatever.

  She loved Maggie, really loved her, but sometimes her feelings veered towards hatred as she saw her little sister enjoying her life so much. Maggie really didn’t know just how lucky she was. Jimmy thought the sun shone out of her, everyone adored her. She had no idea what life was really like.

  Not like Jackie did.

  Her own life was so difficult that she had trouble getting out of bed some days. Everything had been on hold for so long, and she had put so much store on her husband finally coming home, that she had forgotten that the reality of Freddie was so much different to her dreams.

  In her dreams he was perfect. She had seen him coming back home, grateful to her for waiting so long. She had seen him loving her like never before, seen his grateful look as he saw his children all clean and cared for, saw him telling her he loved her more than anyone else in the world. This fantasy had kept her going for all those long and lonely years. When she was rock bottom, struggling to make ends meet, or lying alone in her bed going mad for the touch of a man, that fantasy had been what had kept her alive.

  But instead, he had walked back into her life a day late and then he had managed to destroy her all over again. And the worst of it was, she knew she had let him.

  Would always let him.

  That hurt more than anything: the knowledge that he knew he could do what he wanted and she would let him.

  If she had so much as looked at another man he would have taken care of it from inside the prison, he would have seen her maimed, in pain and even seen his children motherless if it meant he kept his reputation in hand. There was no way he would have stood for the humiliation of his wife going on the trot with another man, even if he had got a twenty. She would have had to wait for him. Freddie was lucky because unlike a lot of the wives it had been what she had wanted to do.