As Eddie opened the gate he came face to face with a massive rat. ‘Fuck that! It frightened the fucking life out of me,’ he said, as the rat scuttled away.
Harry laughed. ‘Shut up, you big pansy.’
‘What we gonna do with the van?’ Eddie asked.
‘Put it in here,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll run across and, once I’ve shot the cunt, we can drive straight off.’
Eddie parked the van inside, then closed the gates. He stuck his hand through the large gap and loosely laid the broken chain back through the lock.
Harry sat down on an old tin drum. ‘I had a drive down here earlier this week. There’s no one about this time in the morning. As soon as we hear Butch pull up, I’ll creep out and do him as soon as he opens his yard. When you hear the gun go off, start the van and pull out. Lock up the yard for us, then we’re away.’
Eddie nodded. He was freezing his bollocks off and wished he’d put on warmer clothes.
The men sat in silence while they waited. Finally, at 5.23, they heard a diesel engine pull up outside. Harry peeped through the gate to check it was Butch. He waited until Butch opened the gates and went inside his yard, then he gently lifted the loose chain, crept out and followed him in.
Butch was just about to climb into his horsebox when he saw Harry Mitchell staring at him with a gun in his hand.
‘What the fuck! What’s going on, mush?’
Harry shook his head. ‘I warned you, Butch, we had a deal. Your boys have taken a fucking liberty, yet again.’
Butch could feel himself shaking. ‘What are me boys meant to have done?’
‘Performed in the Flag the other night, they did. Smashed the bogs up, terrorised the bar staff. The Flag is our territory, you know it is, Butch. Your boys have no manners and I’m not putting up with it any more.’
‘I didn’t know, Harry. I’m sorry, I’ll talk to ’em, I’ll sort it.’
Harry smiled as he lifted the gun. ‘It’s a bit late for that. I warned you about all this once before.’
‘Please, no, don’t kill me,’ Butch said, as he fell to the ground.
Harry moved deftly towards him. Butch had gone down before he’d even fucking shot him, the coward. Harry grabbed hold of the petrified man’s right leg.
‘No, please, no,’ Butch begged.
Harry Mitchell ignored his pleas, pulled back the trigger and blasted him in the right foot. ‘Take that as a warning, Butch. If I was you, I’d advise your family to move their caravans to a different fucking area.’
As blood poured from his foot, Butch was aware of shit running down his legs. He was in too much pain to speak any more; instead he just covered his head with his hands.
Harry walked away. ‘Next time, I’ll blow your brains out,’ he said menacingly.
Eddie replaced the lock and jumped back in the van. ‘Everything go OK?’ he asked, as his father got into the passenger’s side.
‘All sorted, son. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody well starving. Drop the van off, drive back to Canning Town and we’ll have a nice little fry-up in Maureen’s Café.’
A MONTH AFTER announcing her engagement, Jessica sat nervously in the doctor’s surgery, clutching her best friend’s hand. Jessica’s periods were usually as regular as clockwork; she could never remember it being one day late, let alone two weeks. Taking her friend Mary’s advice, Jess had gone to see her doctor the previous week. The receptionist had given her a container for a urine sample, of which she was now awaiting the results.
Anxiously biting her nails, Jessica turned to her friend. ‘What am I gonna do if I am? I mean, Eddie’s already got two kids and he’s never mentioned wanting any more. Say he finishes with me? He might call off the engagement and make me have an abortion.’
Mary put her arm around Jessica. ‘You’re being silly now. Eddie loves you, so why on earth would he treat you like that? I bet if you are pregnant, he’ll be as pleased as Punch.’
About to reply, Jessica froze as her name was called. Mary accompanied her into the surgery and they sat down opposite Dr Hunter.
‘I have the results of your test back, Jessica, and I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant.’
Jessica burst into tears. She and Eddie had only done it twice without a rubber.
‘I’m too young to be a mum. I won’t know what to do,’ Jessica cried.
Mary hugged her and spoke to the doctor at the same time. ‘I think it’s a bit of a shock for Jess. Can we book her another appointment for next week?’
Dr Hunter nodded. In his profession he was used to this reaction. It’s a shame these young girls never thought about the consequences before they opened their legs.
Mary thanked the doctor for his time and led Jessica outside. ‘You wait here and get some fresh air while I book you another appointment,’ she told her.
A trip to a nearby café proved to be a turning point in Jessica’s anxiousness and, after three cups of tea, she even managed a smile.
‘Me mum’ll be pleased, I know that. She’s always banging on about having grandchildren one day. As for me poor old dad, he’ll probably drop dead with the shock of it all.’
Mary giggled. ‘I wish I’d met a nice man like you have, I’d love to be in your position. When are you gonna tell him?’
Jessica took a bite of her bacon sandwich. ‘I’m seeing Ed tonight, so I’ll tell him then. Keep your fingers crossed, eh?’
Mary squeezed her hand. ‘Everything’ll be fine, I just know it will.’
Eddie counted the takings for the second time. Satisfied that they were spot-on, he placed the money in a carrier bag and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Although his family owned salvage yards, most of their money came from pub protection. They tried not to hit on their own doorstep too much, and concentrated more on the surrounding areas. Everybody, including the O’Haras, thought that John, the guv’nor in the Flag, paid them protection, but that wasn’t the case. John was their mate, he looked after them and vice versa.
Eddie turned the radio on as he made himself a sandwich. He hated silence, it gave him the heebies. Hearing the croaky voice of Rod Stewart, he cranked up the volume. He loved that song, ‘Maggie May’. It was all about a young boy having an affair with an older woman. Eddie thought back to his colourful past. He’d been in that position many a time in his youth, so much so that the song could have been written especially for him.
Smirking, Ed flopped onto the sofa and was just about to tuck into his doorstep special when the phone rang. ‘Fucking nuisance,’ he muttered, as he ran to the hallway to answer it.
‘All right, Dad? What you up to?’
‘I’m just leaving home. Have I got some news for you, Eddie, my boy. Meet me in the Flag, I’ll be there in half an hour.’
Eddie could tell by his father’s voice that whatever news he had was bloody good.
‘Don’t keep me waiting. Tell us now.’
Harry Mitchell laughed. ‘No way. I need to see the expression on your face when I tell you. Be patient and move your arse.’
Eddie