Terry Baldwin sat in a corridor in Harold Wood Hospital. Sally had been rushed to the maternity unit and he’d been waiting ages for some news. Putting his head in his hands, Terry cursed the day his daughter had ever set eyes on Jed O’Hara. The little shit had already robbed him of one grandchild, his beloved Luke, and if Sally were to lose another because of Jed, Terry would have no choice but to top the little bastard.
Saying a silent prayer to God that all the blood Sally had lost would turn out to be no more than a false alarm, Terry heard his name being called. He stood up and looked into the doctor’s eyes.
‘I’m so sorry, Mr Baldwin, but I’m afraid we were unable to save the baby. On a positive note, your daughter is stable and we have given her something to sedate her so she can get some sleep. She was, understandably, very upset, so we would like to keep her in for observation.’
Overcome by grief for the second time in weeks, Terry let out a muffled cry and slumped back onto the chair. This would be the end of his Sally and he knew it.
Joycie Smith was still seething the following morning. Never in a million years would she have guessed that Stanley would ever leave for some old slapper. Her husband was certainly no Richard Gere and Joyce could not understand how any other woman would even like him, let alone fancy him.
Pacing up and down the living room, Joycie glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘What time did Dominic say he’d get here?’ she asked Joey. Patience had never been one of Joycie’s virtues and she was doing buttons to get to Orsett and confront her philandering husband and his bit of fluff.
Joey sighed. He’d been working late last night when his nan had rung and told him what had happened. She’d gone bananas on the phone and, worried about her sanity, Joey had come straight over from work. He and Dom had made plans themselves today and, as much as Joey loved his nan, he was getting a bit sick of her interfering in his life. Whenever there was a drama it was Joey she called and in Joey’s opinion, her own son Raymond got away very lightly indeed.
‘Where you going?’ Joyce shouted as Joey picked his mobile up and stomped out of the room.
Ignoring her question, Joey opened the back door and punched in a number. ‘Raymond, it’s me, Joey. Listen, you need to get over to your mum’s ASAP. Your dad’s run off with another woman and I don’t know what to do.’
‘I can’t come over. I’m with Polly and we’re on our way to visit her parents,’ Raymond said bluntly.
Joey was fuming. Who did Raymond think he was, Lord Fucking Fauntleroy? Sick of taking shit from people, Joey gave it to him good and proper. ‘Joycie might be my nan, but she’s your bloody mother. She needs you, so best you ring Polly’s parents, tell them you have to cancel, then turn your car around and get your arse over here. I’ve already lost my mum, Ray, but you’ve still got yours, so instead of avoiding her, make the fucking most of it.’
Raymond was astounded by his nephew’s little speech. Joey no longer sounded like a feminine little gay boy – he sounded just like his father.
Eddie Mitchell smiled as he ended his phone call. His plan to keep his brothers safe had worked like a dream so far. Worried that Jimmy O’Hara’s henchman would get to them, Eddie had ordered someone to give both Ronny and Paulie a pasting.
‘Don’t go too heavy, but make it look bad. Aim for their faces and make as much mess as you can without actually hurting ’em,’ had been Ed’s exact words. He’d then got word to his brothers via another inmate to tell them the score. ‘You must insist that you’re frightened for your lives and demand to be moved either to solitary or another nick. With Ronny being a cripple, the guvnor should swallow it.’
He’d also told his ally to warn them that under no circumstances must they contact him. ‘If they ring me or send me any silly fucking letters, they’re on their own,’ he said.
Ed smiled as Gina walked into the room and put her arms around his waist from behind.
‘Dinner’s nearly ready,’ she said lovingly.
Eddie turned around, tilted her chin and kissed her tenderly. He was picking Stuart up on Monday, so this was the last weekend that they’d have the house to themselves for a while.
‘After we’ve eaten, let’s have an early night, eh, babe?’
Gina grinned. ‘Only if you promise to ravish me.’
Eddie grabbed the cheeks of her arse and rubbed his rapidly growing erection against her groin. ‘Oh, I shall ravish you all right. In fact, I’m gonna shag your brains out all weekend.’
Gina giggled. She adored Eddie talking dirty to her. Her fiancé’s vulgarity was her ultimate turn-on.
* * *
Raymond dropped Polly off at her parents’ house and drove towards his mother’s. Joey’s words had somehow struck a chord, and even though Joyce drove him mad at times, Raymond realised he should make more of an effort to be there for her.
‘You took your time. I thought Polly’s parents had moved over this way,’ Joey said as he answered the front door.
‘Essex is a big place, Joey. If you drove, you’d know that Polly’s parents have moved to Loughton, which isn’t exactly spitting distance from here, is it now?’ Raymond replied sarcastically.
Ignoring his uncle’s sarcasm, Joey began to give him the lowdown on exactly what had happened between Joyce and Stanley.
Sick of waiting for a lift, Joyce had been necking the Baileys as if it were chocolate milkshake and was now in an extremely vicious mood.
Raymond walked into the room and sat down on the sofa next to his mum. Feeling awkward, he hugged her. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find Dad and then he’ll come back home. I’m sure this woman is only a friend, whoever she is.’
‘Friend! I’ll give her fucking friend. Do you know where that Orsett Cock pub is, Raymond?’
Ray nodded.
Joyce stood up. ‘Come on then, let’s go and find the dirty old pervert who fathered you.’
Joey glanced at Dominic and smirked. His earlier outburst had obviously hit home and now that Raymond had turned up and taken over, their weekend could continue as planned.
Eddie Mitchell smiled as he rubbed Gina’s slightly swollen naked stomach. He might be fifty-three, but he didn’t look it and in his mind he was still only twenty-one. He couldn’t wait to be a dad again. When the twins were born he’d left all that baby stuff to Jessica, but this time he wanted to be part of it. ‘So what we gonna call this little beauty then?’ he asked tenderly.
Gina turned her head towards Eddie and grinned. She would be thirty-five by the time the baby was born and she had never been so excited about anything in her life before. There was a time when Gina had given up on meeting Mr Right and becoming a mother, but meeting Eddie Mitchell had changed all that. From the first moment Gina had laid eyes on Eddie, she had known he was the one and now he had made all her dreams come true.
‘I like Michaela for a girl and Bradley for a boy,’ Gina suggested.
Eddie pondered over her choices, then turned to her. ‘I like Rosie, be a nice tribute to me mum. Michaela’s OK, though. My Frankie’s real name is Francesca and Georgie’s birth name is Georgina, so like both of these, Michaela will be shortened to Micky. Micky Mitchell, yeah, sounds proper. I dunno about Bradley though, sounds a bit poofy to me and, as much as I love Joey, I don’t want two gay sons.’
‘Bradley don’t sound poofy! What about Gavin,