‘Cheer me up, why don’t ya, Vin? Nah, she won’t keep it. What sort of bird chooses to raise their own brother’s child? I know she lied about her age, but you gotta remember Roxanne didn’t have a clue she and Dan were related until Nancy showed up.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on her getting rid of the kid. If you ask me she takes after her mother: a nutjob and a compulsive fucking liar.’
Eddie Mitchell handed his least favourite grandson a card. ‘Happy birthday, boy. I didn’t know what to get you, so thought if I got you vouchers your mum could take you to Lakeside and you could pick something out yourself.’ Eddie hated calling the child Harry. He knew who he’d been named after and why, and that made him feel sick to the stomach.
‘Ta. Can me and Georgie go outside now?’ Harry asked his mother.
‘Yes. But put your jackets on. It’s nippy out there.’
‘Not if you were brought up as a traveller it ain’t. We don’t feel the cold like you gorgers. Come on,’ Harry ordered, grabbing his sister’s arm.
‘And if them blokes come anywhere near us I’m gonna kick ’em in the balls. You can’t keep us here like prisoners for ever, you know,’ Georgie yelled, before slamming the back door.
Eddie glanced at Stuart. They’d been pals long before Stuart had got together with Frankie and both were uncomfortable with the current arrangement. It just wasn’t right.
When Eddie had first snatched the kids from a gypsy site in Scotland, Frankie and Brett had been happily sharing a house in Brentwood with her pal Babs, and Babs’ son, Jordan. The arrival of ‘the devil’s spawn’, as Eddie sometimes referred to Georgie and Harry, soon changed all that. They led poor Jordan a dog’s life, so much so, Babs moved out with her son within a month of their arrival. Frankie couldn’t cope on her own, so Stuart moved in to help out, but every time their backs were turned, Georgie and Harry tried to do a runner. Brentwood station was the last place Eddie had found the banes of his life. They’d been about to board a train when he’d grabbed hold of them from behind.
Frankie had pleaded with her father to find them somewhere more secure, so Eddie had rented a big gaff not far from him. The house had acres around it, and was surrounded by CCTV and six-foot metal railings and gates. He’d also hired a security team and had a little office built near the entrance so the kids could not escape.
‘Georgie does have a point, babe. Reminds me of Colditz, and the lease runs out in eight months. This was only ever meant to be a temporary measure. You’re gonna have to trust ’em at some point. They need to go to school and mix with other kids if they’re ever gonna turn out half normal,’ Eddie advised.
‘No way! Georgie hated school when she was little and ran away even back then. If I send them to school they will just disappear again, I know they will,’ Frankie’s voice was panic-stricken.
Stuart put an arm around his wife-to-be. He’d proposed three months to the day he and Frankie had first got together. They’d been friends for a long time beforehand, but because of all the upheaval surrounding Georgie and Harry, they’d yet to set a date or even discuss the actual wedding. ‘Frankie wants to hire a tutor and teach them from home, Ed,’ Stuart said, raising his eyebrows to show his displeasure.
Eddie was desperate for his daughter to see sense. ‘Ruined everyone’s lives, that pair of little fuckers have. Why d’ya think Brett is upstairs in his bedroom as we speak, Frankie? And why do you think he wants to stay at mine and Gina’s all the time? Because the poor little sod is desperately unhappy, that’s why. Brett’s a shell of his former self and it’s about time you started putting him, yourself and Stuart first, girlie. Let the little bastards run away and see how far they get. The O’Haras no longer live on that site near Glasgow. A desolate piece of land, that is now. And before you ask how I know, I had someone check it out for me. You got to be cruel to be kind sometimes, so if Georgie and Harry think the grass is greener in Scotland, let ’em have a mooch up there. They’ll soon come back with their tails between their sorry legs. You mark my words.’
‘You don’t know Jed like I do. He’ll never let them go. He’ll be waiting and watching in the wings, then as soon as an opportunity arises he’ll snatch Georgie and Harry and take them away. I know you said he’ll never bother me again, Dad, but I’m telling you he will. He’s pure evil.’
Eddie and Stuart shared a knowing look. Nobody bar those present on that fateful night knew exactly what had happened, but perhaps now was the time to let Frankie into a little secret. ‘Jed’s dead, Frankie. So’s his old man,’ Eddie said bluntly.
Frankie looked at her father with an incredulous expression. ‘When? How? Who told you? Why didn’t you tell me?’
Eddie moved over to the sofa and put an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. ‘Because you’d only just got the kids back and had enough on your plate at the time.’
‘Did you kill them?’ Frankie bellowed.
‘No,’ Eddie replied honestly. ‘But I can assure you they’re both dead.’
Tears of anger streaming down her face, Frankie pummelled her father’s chest with her fists. ‘Why did you only tell me you’d scared them away for good? Don’t you know how many nights I’ve laid awake wondering if and when Jed might come back? I will never believe another word that comes out of your mouth. You’re a liar. A wicked, evil liar.’
Eddie grabbed her wrists. ‘Got some front, you have. Talk about pot calling kettle! Slipped your mind to tell me that evil toe-rag you were shacked up with brutally murdered your grandfather, didn’t it?’
‘I explained why I never told you, and you said we’d never mention it again,’ Frankie screamed.
Eddie’s father Harry Mitchell was a legend in East London, and a notorious underworld figure. Until 1988, when he’d been battered to death whilst tucked up in his bed. His killer had never been caught and it only came to light on the day Jed died that he was the one responsible. Frankie knew, by all accounts. She’d heard Jed and his cousin Sammy joking about it. That’s why Frankie had stabbed Jed and ended up in prison. She knew at that point Jed was beyond evil and she needed to get him away from her children. She’d meant to kill him, but unfortunately failed. Frankie hadn’t told her father the truth at the time because she was worried for his safety. She was also scared her dad would get locked up for life and Georgie and Harry would be taken away from her by the authorities. Looking back now, Frankie cursed her stupidity. Even if the authorities had stepped in, her children could not have turned out any worse than they had. And her father was more than capable of looking after his bloody self.
‘You mustn’t tell anybody about Jed and Jimmy, babe. Only I’ll be in trouble too. We all will,’ Stuart warned.
‘Joey was there, wasn’t he? He saw Jed and his old man die.’ Frankie’s twin brother hadn’t been the same person since that night. Though he’d refused to confide in her, she’d known something must have happened to him. ‘No wonder he gave up his bloody job. He’s haunted by what he saw, I bet,’ she cried.
Eddie and Stuart shared an awkward glance. Joey had been the one who pulled the trigger and killed Jed and Jimmy, but Eddie would take that piece of information to his grave with him. So would the other men who’d been there that night: Stuart, Raymond, Terry and Eddie’s eldest son, Gary. His second eldest, Ricky, was already dead when Joey turned up, and the rest of them were tied up and about to die. Joey had saved them all, and saved the day. ‘Joey never saw sod-all. None of us did, OK?’ Eddie growled.
Frankie was about to interrogate her father some more, when Georgie’s screams stopped her. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked, leaping up off the sofa.
‘Longtails! Loads of ’em. Hate ’em, I do. Nanny Alice says they’re evil and a curse like magpies. She’s frit to death of them,’ Georgie gabbled.
Eddie was