Seeing Jimmy on his knees, scrabbling with his clothes, Edie started to jog, pulling the toddler with her and making him cry. Despite her spindly limbs she put on a spurt that belied her frail appearance. The creases in her complexion deepened with her determination to find out what was going on. As the toddler stumbled to his knees she let go of his hand and rushed on, the pram bouncing in front of her, and one of her hands batting back pots trembling precariously close to the sides. The young woman immediately dropped her box and went to tend to the whimpering infant. The older boy shuffled close by, obviously preferring to wait for his big sister to accompany him into unknown territory.
If Robert had not been so het up at the sight of his father on Campbell Road he might sooner have spotted Edie and the children trailing in her wake. Having digested the scene he turned back. ‘If you’ve knocked that lot out,’ he snarled at his father, ‘you must’ve started with that old bag before Mum was dead.’ His eyes were redrawn to the young woman who was crouched by the sobbing child and dabbing at his grazed knee with a handkerchief. Robert guessed she was in her late teens. ‘In fact, I’d say you must’ve been at it before we was hanging out the flags believing you was gone for good. Seems we were wrong about everything. We all thought Nellie Tucker was your tart.’
‘Can’t help being popular with the ladies, can I?’ Jimmy grunted a chuckle, still stuffing clothes back into the bag. He seemed unflustered by his son’s rough handling.
‘No lady would have anything to do with you. No wonder we never had a decent meal inside us as kids. You’d have spent yer last fucking farthing keeping yer cock happy rather than us, wouldn’t you?’
Jimmy sprung up, surprisingly agile all of a sudden, his eyes narrow slits in his puffy, sallow face. ‘You want to learn a bit of respect. Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m still yer father and can give you a wallop, y’know.’
‘Don’t I just wish you’d try,’ Robert returned softly. ‘’Cos I’m itching for an excuse to lay you out … just like you did to all of us.’
Jimmy slanted a look up the road. His scrawny wife was still haring towards him behind the bouncing pram.
‘Edie’s,’ Jimmy said succinctly, ignoring the reference to the brutality he’d dealt out to his first family. ‘All of ’em stepkids.’ Noting the direction of his son’s steady gaze, he pursed his mouth before a shrewd smile skewed a corner of it. ‘Well, I never … something about me yer like after all, eh, son?’ he taunted. A glance slew to his stepdaughter.
Faye was petite, like her mother, but there all similarity ended. Edie was shrunken and shapeless, and her once-fair hair had turned to an unattractive salt-and-pepper hue. Faye’s body was curvaceous and her shiny golden hair framed an extraordinarily pretty face. Jimmy liked to think he was a bit of a connoisseur when it came to women. He also liked to think that he appreciated the value of female allure. He’d been Nellie Tucker’s pimp for some while, and they’d both profited from it. He reckoned touting the services of a cheap whore from a damp room justified his arrogance.
With his bags in his fists he pushed past Robert and entered the gloomy hallway of his new home, chuckling beneath his breath. His laughter increased when Robert made no move to stop him this time. But he wasn’t feeling as smug as he’d sounded. Lou Perkins had recognised him in Dartford market and told him his eldest boy was flush with money. Jimmy had come to see for himself and work out a way he might benefit from an upturn in the Wild fortunes. He’d known his reappearance would cause a rumpus at first, but had counted on persuading his sons they should be pleased to have one of their parents still alive. Jimmy reckoned he’d manage to bring Stevie round to that way of thinking, but Stevie wasn’t the one holding the purse strings. Bobbie had the cash, and he was extremely hostile.
Edie’s face was scarlet as she skidded to a halt by Robert. Her lips, customarily puckered as though she was sucking on an invisible cigarette, suddenly sprang apart and words came tumbling out of them. ‘So, it’s you. Thought it were the other one, ’cos Jimmy told me he comes down here collecting the rents. Thought you were Stephen. Just leave us be. We need somewhere to live, same as other folk. You don’t interfere with us, we don’t interfere with you.’ She turned and, having drawn in a lungful of air, yelled at the boy who was closest, ‘Get in there and lend a hand to your dad.’
Casting a wary sideways look up at Robert, she manoeuvred the pram past the obstacle of his body, bumped it over the threshold of the house and started to unload it on to bare boards.
The toddler, obviously over his mishap, came tearing down the road at such a pace that it looked as though his momentum would send him hurtling past his destination or falling on to his face. At the last moment he saved himself by clinging to Robert’s shins for support, offering up a shy smile before he scrambled on into the house. His older brother gave Robert a suspicious look before ducking his face behind his box and following on. Robert could hear their mother giving instructions to the boys on what to carry up the stairs. From those bawled commands Robert learned that one boy was named Michael and the other Adam. He wasn’t interested enough to peer in to discover which face went with which name. But he was interested in the girl coming towards him. And she knew it, and was battling not to look uneasy because of it.
Having tilted up her chin and waited for Robert to move out of the way, the young woman turned sideways with her box to try to edge past him, muttering beneath her breath. He moved to block her path. Flicking her head aside in irritation, she stepped the other way to avoid him, her expression bored.
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘’Course I know,’ she said impatiently, setting her box down. ‘You’re one of his sons, me mum told me. She saw you just after we turned the corner and said there’d be trouble.’ She glowered at him with large blue eyes. ‘Are you going to get out of the way so I can go inside?’
‘Yeah … in a minute …’
‘Me mum told me you wouldn’t let them have a drink at your wedding reception and a ruckus started because of it. Tight-fisted git, are you, as well as having no manners?’ With that she again picked up her box and glared at him to move.
‘Well, if you’d’ve come along to the Duke that night, perhaps I might’ve thought twice about getting a round in,’ Robert said. ‘Or perhaps you’re too young to have a drink?’
She blushed, but not because his subtle flattery pleased her, rather because he thought her a kid. ‘Why don’t you get off home to your wife so’s I can get in there and give a hand before your father turns nasty.’ She freed some fingers from beneath the box to give his arm a shove. Although her hand bounced off muscle, Robert relented and moved his fist from where it had enclosed a railing, effectively barring her entry.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Faye! Get in here now and help, will you.’ Edie’s screech emerged from the bowels of the house.
The young woman gave him a sour look and took a step forward, trying to shake off his grip, which had transferred from the railing to her wrist.
‘What’s your name?’ Robert asked again.
‘You deaf as well as all the rest?’ she cried out, yanking her arm free with such force that she dropped her box in the process. Cutlery and china scattered on the floor drawing a gasp of dismay from her. The ground was littered with blue-and-white shards that looked to have been a full tea service