by D. S. Butler
Babs entered the flat and looked around. Although the décor had changed slightly, it was still modelled on the monochrome look Martin was so fond of. Babs hated it. She thought it was so impersonal. Cold and desolate, but then again, that suited Martin perfectly.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“A couple of things. I wanted to let you know I think you are right. I shouldn’t be getting involved in your business.”
Martin smirked, and Babs knew he didn’t believe her.
“I know that might be hard to believe, Martin, but coming home has made me realise how much I’ve missed my kids. Ruby’s home and that’s absolutely lovely, but I hate the fact there’s this wedge between us and Derek. I want to try and build some bridges, and I think it’s something we should try to do together.”
“You and me?” Martin said. He couldn’t have looked more surprised than if she’d tickled him under the nose with a feather.
“Yes, Martin, you and me. I know we’ve had a lot of problems, but Derek and Ruby are our children, and we should be able to put aside our differences when they need us.”
Martin nodded slowly. “All right, what did you have in mind?”
“Well, first things first, we need to know more about Derek’s new life. It’s not good enough just chucking a bit of money his way every now and again. I mean, do you even know what he is studying at university?”
Martin frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know, something to do with business, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly my point. We need some common ground, and we need to show we’re proud of what he’s achieved.”
“I’d be prouder if he’d come and take his place in the family firm,” Martin said.
“I agree, Martin, but he’s never going to do that unless he feels valued and respected.”
Martin’s upper lip curled in a sneer, and at first, Babs thought he might be about to dismiss her completely, but to her surprise, he folded his arms across his chest, leant his head back to regard her steadily and then said, “You might have a point.”
Babs smiled. She was getting somewhere.
“But…” His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall above the little kitchenette, and he shook his head. “I was supposed to have a meeting with Freddie and the boys. Just stay here, and I’ll let them know we’ll postpone the meeting for a bit.”
Babs couldn’t believe her luck. She nodded obediently.
Martin was halfway across the room when Babs said, “I’ll fix us a drink. Do you still drink whisky?”
Martin smirked. “Oh, yes. I haven’t changed, Babs. Not one bit.”
Babs stiffened, but she didn’t rise to the bait. She made her way towards the kitchenette and heard Martin open the door, but he didn’t leave straightaway.
Instead, he turned around again and said, “Contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart.”
Babs was too shocked to laugh.
“I don’t care about many people in this world,” he continued. “But I do care about my kids.”
Babs didn’t reply. She simply nodded.
As soon as Martin left the flat and walked downstairs to the club, Babs sprang into action. This was her chance, her window of opportunity, and she couldn’t mess it up.
She grabbed her handbag and fumbled with the clasp, desperate to open it, and then grabbed the item she’d purchased from the chemist earlier that day.
She pulled out the small bottle from the brown paper bag and unscrewed the lid.
She put it on the kitchen counter and then reached for a glass out of the cupboard. After pouring a hefty measure of whisky into the glass, she picked up the bottle of eye drops.
She was moving so quickly, and her heart was beating so fast, she didn’t hear the quiet footsteps behind her.
She didn’t even realise someone else was in the flat until she felt strong fingers encircle her wrist.
Chapter 42
It was Tony.
Babs stared up at his face in horror as he looked down at her and then the bottle in her hand.
He kept hold of her wrist as he plucked the bottle from her fingers.
“You were going to try and poison him?” He shook his head slowly as though he couldn’t believe Babs was capable of it.
Babs closed her eyes briefly. This was it. It was all over. Tony would be obliged to tell his brother, and Martin would make it his mission to obliterate her.
He would probably kill her slowly and painfully and then dump her body in the canal like he had Kathleen’s.
Babs stifled a sob.
“I hate him,” she said bitterly.
When she opened her eyes again, she could see the confusion on Tony’s face. He looked conflicted.
“What is this stuff anyway?” He held up the bottle.
Babs didn’t lie, there didn’t seem much point. “Eye drops. I got them from the chemist. They contain something called atropine. I got the idea from one of the girls inside.”
Tony looked absolutely horrified. “Why?”
Babs looked scornfully at him. “You don’t need to ask me that. He has ruined my life, and I will never be able to get back on track while he is still around.”
“This isn’t the answer, Babs. I can’t let you do this.”
Babs tried to pull her arm away from Tony, but he kept hold of her wrist.
“Why do you care about him anyway? He treats you like crap. We are all dispensable to him. He doesn’t care about you.”
“He’s my brother,” Tony said simply.
“And that excuses how he behaves and treats you, does it?”
“He is my brother. End of.” His fingers tightened around her wrist painfully, and his voice was gruff as he spoke.
After a tense moment, where they both stared at each other, Tony released her wrist and put the lid back on the bottle. He shoved the bottle in his pocket just as they heard Martin’s voice and his footsteps on the stairs.
Oh, Jesus. Babs’s eyes widened in fear. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I should,” Tony said.
There wasn’t time for Babs to protest or argue her case, because, in the next moment, Martin strolled back into the flat.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Babs Morton slipped out of the club. She had needed to put on one hell of a performance this evening.
She could barely believe she’d made it out of there alive, but she knew she shouldn’t count her chickens before they hatched.
When the brothers were alone, Tony could easily tell Martin what he had caught Babs trying to do.
It had been a very desperate move on her part, but she’d felt forced to do it.
She could be sent back to prison any day now. Before Mean Maud regained consciousness, Babs wanted her revenge.
She had no idea if the eye drops in his whisky would have done the trick, but even if they’d made him severely ill, that would have been something.
Babs turned the corner, and the sound of the club’s music faded. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, trying to collect her thoughts before she got home.
Ruby would be waiting for her, and Babs would need to pretend that everything was perfectly all right. She couldn’t give the child even an inkling of what she had been about to do.
Martin had been in his element. He had picked up on Babs’s discomfort and put it down to the fact he’d walked in on her and Tony having a falling out.
He’d asked them what was going on, but Tony had told him he’d been asking Babs if she would mind pouring him a drink.
The look on Martin’s face told Babs he didn’t believe that for a moment, but he didn’t press the matter.
At least, not while she’d been there.
She had put Tony in a terrible position.
He was caught between telling Martin what he knew and keeping Babs’s secret. Why would he protect her when Martin was his brother?
She hugged her coat tightly around herself a
nd fought back tears. She’d been so close to getting back at Martin, now she would need to start again from scratch.
Even on the off-chance Tony decided not to tell Martin what she’d done, there was no way he would leave her alone with Martin in the future in case she attempted to poison him again.
The more she thought about it, the more she realised how pathetic her plan had been.
If Martin had been poisoned, the first person the police would look at was her, plus the fact she’d bought the stupid eye drops from the chemist near to her home. They would have her bang to rights.
She wasn’t thinking properly. She was worried about Maud waking up, worried about poor Gertie in solitary, and her mind was filled with an overwhelming hatred of her husband.
Her hatred was so great that it had obscured her judgement. She was never going to beat Martin like this. She needed a proper plan.
She was so preoccupied as she walked back to the house in the dark, she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.
She stepped to the side of the pavement to avoid a puddle, and it was then she felt arms looping around her. A hand clamped over her mouth, and Babs fell to her knees. She felt something shove against her back, and her head hit the pavement hard.
Her last thought before she passed out was that Martin had got the last laugh after all.
Chapter 43
Two streets away, Trevor was at his Uncle Gary’s gaff, ranting and raving. He was furious over his treatment by his father.
He was so busy describing to Gary how unfairly he’d been treated, that he didn’t even notice the grin on Gary’s face.
Gary couldn’t be happier with the way things were turning out. He’d thought he’d lost Trevor for good when the boy had moved back home and then started to work for Dave. All his hard work looked to be for nothing, but things had shifted quite considerably since then.
Trevor paced the small living room as Gary sat back on the small settee watching him.
“I don’t know why he treats me like this. All I’ve ever done is try to please him, and it’s never good enough! I can’t believe he would take Jimmy and Charlie’s side over his own son. What kind of father does that?”
Gary made encouraging noises and tried to hide his smirk.
“What’s so special about that bloody Jimmy Diamond anyway? I understand why he dotes on Georgie. He’s a good kid and can’t help it if he’s not the brightest spark, but Jimmy Diamond is nothing to us.”
Trevor was now talking to himself. He shook his head as he paced, his shoulders hunched and his whole body tensed.
“I heard, that Dave has been treating Jimmy Diamond as if he was his own flesh and blood,” Gary commented mildly before taking a drag on his cigarette.
Trevor whirled around to face his uncle. “Where did you hear that?”
Gary shrugged. “They were talking about it down the pub last night.”
That was a blatant lie, but Gary considered it a necessary one to nudge Trevor around to his way of thinking.
Trevor’s face flushed, and he looked angrier than ever. “That’s just fantastic. Now the whole of the East End knows my dad favours that bloody bastard over me.”
Gary nodded sadly. “It’s a travesty.”
Trevor nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. It’s a bleeding travesty the way he constantly overlooks me and belittles me in front of everyone.”
Trevor sat down heavily in an armchair. “Tell me, Uncle Gary, why should I put up with that?”
Gary put his cigarette in the ashtray beside him, steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his fingertips. “You shouldn’t,” he said. “In my opinion, he has pushed you around far too much.”
“Well, I’ll tell you something for nothing, he’s going to regret it. Mark my words, one day soon, he’s going to realise what a mistake he’s made.”
Gary raised an eyebrow. Trevor was close. He was almost where Gary needed him to be, but he needed a further prod.
Gary decided to goad him a little more. “Look, I didn’t want to mention this, but another thing they’ve been talking about down at the pub is Dave grooming Jimmy Diamond to take over his enterprises when he retires.”
Trevor’s eyes widened. “He wouldn’t… I mean, even he wouldn’t go that far.”
Gary tilted his head to one side and shrugged. “Maybe not, like I said, it’s only talk.”
“But I’m his son. How could he hand everything to Jimmy Diamond?”
“You’re preaching to the converted, Trevor. I’m on your side. I don’t understand how Dave can overlook his son and heir. It’s a disgrace.”
Trevor lowered his head and put his head in his hands. “What am I going to do?”
Gary waited for a moment or two, letting Trevor dwell on his predicament. It never hurt to let the panic build for a little longer, Gary thought.
When the moment was right, Gary leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looked intently at his nephew.
“I wasn’t sure whether to tell you this before, but I might have come up with a way you can take control of the situation.”
Trevor raised his head and frowned. “How?”
Gary winced. “Maybe it wouldn’t work. It might be a bit too risky for you.”
“No, tell me,” Trevor said, inching forward on the armchair.
“First, you need to understand that to see this plan through you’ll need a strong stomach, and you’re going to have to prove you have what it takes to be a leader.”
Trevor’s features tightened. “I have, you know I do.”
Gary nodded. “I believe in you, Trevor. But it won’t be easy. It’s going to take a lot of hard work. Are you up for that?”
A smile spread across Trevor’s face for the first time that evening. “Absolutely, just tell me what I need to do.”
* * *
It was very late when Jimmy walked past Dave Carter’s house. He wouldn’t have knocked if he hadn’t seen the yellow light coming from the front room and guessed Dave was still awake.
He knocked softly on the front door, not wanting to wake Georgie when he was still in bed with the flu.
He didn’t have to wait long before Dave opened the door.
Straightaway, Jimmy could tell he’d been drinking heavily. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bloodshot. In all the years he had known Dave, he couldn’t recall seeing him drunk.
Jimmy hesitated on the doorstep, unsure of Dave’s reaction.
“Jimmy, what is it?”
Despite Dave’s support, and Jimmy’s friendship with Georgie, he didn’t often drop in unannounced like this.
“I wanted to see how Georgie was,” Jimmy said.
Dave nodded. “He’s in bed, still feeling rough, but I think he is passed the worst of it now. His temperature is down so he should be back to normal in a day or two.”
Dave hesitated for a moment and then took a step back, opening the front door wide. “Come in, Jimmy. Come and have a drink.”
Jimmy did as he was told, following Dave through the front room, where Dave picked up his glass, and then followed him into the kitchen.
Dave pulled a glass from the cupboard and poured Jimmy a small measure of brandy.
When he handed it to Jimmy, he said, “Is everything all right with you?”
Jimmy nodded. “It’s fine.”
The last thing he wanted to do was bother Dave with his problems. His nan was still upset over Linda getting hitched to Big Tim, which Jimmy could understand now that Dave had explained the situation.
“It’s all good,” Jimmy said and then took a sip of brandy, feeling the burning liquid make its way down his throat.
“Have a seat,” Dave said. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you.”
Jimmy immediately thought he had done something wrong and slid down into the seat opposite Dave, tensing himself and preparing for what was to come.
He figured he’d done something wrong, screwed up at the workshop or something worse,
but Dave surprised him by saying, “I’m going to confide in you, Jimmy. Anything I tell you now goes no further than us, do you understand?”
Jimmy blinked with surprise but then inclined his head. “Of course.”
Dave nodded slowly. “We’ve not had an easy time of it recently. But I think we have more upsets to come. I’ve got a feeling that something is wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Jimmy asked.
Dave liked dealing in facts. He didn’t listen to rumours unless there was some factual basis to them, so hearing Dave talking about feelings was something of a surprise.
Dave added some more brandy to his glass. “It’s a gut feeling, and maybe I’m paranoid, but I’ve got an inkling something is brewing. I think someone will be making a move against us soon.”
Jimmy gripped his glass. “Martin Morton?”
Dave shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be. See what you can find out for me, all right? Keep your ear to the ground.”
“Of course, but I don’t really mix with any of Morton’s lads…”
Jimmy’s voice trailed off as Dave looked at him intently, and then the penny dropped. He realised what Dave was saying.
“Do you mean keep my ear to the ground in the workshop?” Jimmy frowned in confusion. “Surely you don’t think that Charlie or Brian or Tim would… betray you.”
Dave said nothing.
Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t believe that. They wouldn’t. They’re good, loyal men. I’d trust them with my life.”
Dave’s lips worked upwards with a smile. “How do you always manage to see the good in people, Jimmy? After the way life has treated you, you should be cynical, bitter and twisted.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe Georgie has rubbed off on me.”
Dave smiled again. “Maybe.”
Jimmy had never seen Dave like this, and it unnerved him. Dave drained his brandy and then reached for the bottle to pour another glass. He offered a top up to Jimmy, but Jimmy shook his head.
“Is everything all right apart from that?” Jimmy asked, feeling sure there was something more behind Dave’s melancholy mood.
