Kay Brellend 3-Book Collection: The Street, The Family, Coronation Day

It hadn’t taken long – a few to the face and a couple of body blows – for Jimmy to realise he was outmatched. He’d fled with Saul’s bellowed threat to kill him following him down the stairs and out into the dusk. Now, as he ambled on, instinctively towards The Bunk, Jimmy brooded on when and where he might be able to again catch the bastard by surprise, and on that occasion use his blade rather than his fists on him.

His plans for revenge brought little consolation. Unendurable humiliation still savaged his mind and Jimmy’s instinct was to find a whipping dog to buck him up a bit. As he turned in to Campbell Road he saw just what he needed.

Fran saw him right back. She’d been out in the street looking for Stevie and Bobbie to order them indoors as it was late. She’d had a bad day too and was in no mood for any nonsense from her sons or from the useless git she’d married. Jimmy had given her no wages for over three weeks. Adding to her money troubles was the tight-fisted client who had promised to pay her today for last week’s washing, but hadn’t. Nevertheless if she’d known what sort of mood Jimmy was in, or that he’d been in a fight, she might have proceeded with caution. As it was Fran just gave him a scowl, two raised fingers and a contemptuous, ‘Fuck off.’

Her attitude was like a red rag to a bull. But Jimmy used his soppy smile as he approached. He was still looking pleased when he landed a short jab to the side of her face. Taken by surprise Fran reeled back with little more than a grunt. Deftly he caught her and dragged her out of sight into the hallway before any neighbour started taking an interest in what was happening. With grim determination pursing his mouth Jimmy started up the stairs dragging Fran, dazed and groaning, with him. He quickly shoved her inside the room and used a boot on her buttocks to propel her towards the bed. She hit the edge and collapsed, neatly avoiding the fist he’d swung at her. Annoyed at that, he yanked her up by the hair and deliberately aimed to split her nose and lip.

Fran stayed sprawled where she was, eyes closed, bleeding mouth agape. Even when Jimmy drew the belt from around his waist, slowly, as though savouring the slither of leather on his hips, Fran remained unresponsive.

Jimmy tested her with a vicious lash across the legs but she was out cold and didn’t murmur or flinch. Fired up and frustrated he kicked her for good measure then prowled back and forth. His lips drew back against his teeth as he began cursing the stupid bitch for being so pathetically weak that a couple of smacks had finished her off too soon. If he hung around waiting for her to come round so he could give her a bit more Bobbie and Stevie were sure to turn up and create a commotion. The boys were older now; not so inclined to cower quietly in a corner when he was on the rampage. He didn’t want old Prewett poking his nose in, or Tilly bloody Keiver for that matter.

Suddenly he stopped pacing to listen. Another bump from above could be heard and a slow, crafty grin split his face. He went to the door and crept onto the landing, looking right and left, alert to being spotted, as he made for the stairs. He knew the sound of Tilly Keiver finishing off a bottle of whiskey. He knew what the thuds and clunks meant after so many years living in close proximity to her. He knew too that, drunk or sober, she wouldn’t even open the door to him unless he gave her good reason.

He knocked and called softly. ‘’Ere, Til, it’s Jim. You seen Fran? She ain’t in. I come by ’cos I got some money for her fer the lads.’

Tilly stuck a hand through a tiny opening. ‘Give it ’ere then,’ she slurred. ‘I’ll make sure she gets it tomorrer.’

‘Ain’t she with you?’ Jimmy enquired, all friendly, whilst keeping his bruises turned away from the aperture.

‘No, she ain’t,’ Tilly muttered, getting annoyed.

‘I was gonna knock at old Prewett’s, before I go. Say hello.’ He paused. ‘Know if the ol’ git’s about, do yer?’ It was a sly probe to discover if anyone was home and might bear witness against what he had planned.

‘He’s gone to Bethnal Green. Funeral,’ Tilly muttered succinctly. ‘Now give us Fran’s money ‘n’ piss off, will yer. I’m done in.’

Jimmy put his shoulder hard against the door and Tilly staggered back to crash into the table. ‘Wot the fuck yer doing?’ she spluttered, frowning incomprehension. Her inebriated state made it difficult for her to regain her balance and she clutched at a chair back.

An encompassing glance about the room told Jimmy what he needed to know. She was on her own. It was late and the kids were probably all akip in the back room. Nevertheless he kept his voice silky and soft. ‘I’m doin’ what I should’ve done a long time ago, you mouthy bitch. No Jack now to hide behind, have you?’ he taunted through his teeth as he back-kicked to flick the door to. ‘Got two things for you, Til,’ he purred with sadistic relish. ‘Got this …’ He raised a fist. ‘And got this …’ He started to unbutton his fly. ‘Now how you take this …’ he handled his groin lewdly, ‘is gonna determine how much of this you get.’ He suddenly let fly with a punch that whipped Tilly’s slack head sideways. He licked his lips as he heard her stunned gasp.

‘Now that didn’t hurt,’ he mocked. ‘That were just a little tickle.’

The throb of agony in her jaw had dispersed some of the inebriated fog in her mind. Tilly blinked and with a guttural cry launched herself at him. Her drunken state made her clumsy and Jimmy floored her with ease and stood grinning down at her semi-conscious figure.

He used his boot to turn her onto her back and came down astride her. ‘Want it here, do yer?’ He pounced on her heaving breasts, double-handed, then ripped the buttons from her blouse. Her skirts were already awry and he tugged them higher while she bucked beneath him, cursing and crying in frustration and rage. But try as she might she was too drunk and stunned to stir her senses into action or shift the weight on top of her.

Jimmy levered himself up a bit to yank down his trousers and as he surged forward again Tilly recovered just enough to spit in his face. Jimmy cuffed her spittle from his cheek and drew back that same arm, intending to give Tilly back what was hers.

‘What’s going on?’ The voice, faint with shock, came from the threshold.

Chapter Twenty (#ulink_9a791875-d297-5e2f-a60f-c35a3de40222)

‘What’s going on?’ Alice cried and rushed into the room. She’d just returned home from a walk to the café with Geoff. Only moments ago they’d parted at the foot of the stairs. She bent to her mum and gasped as she saw the state of her battered face. She then raised her eyes to her uncle; their faces were almost level. ‘What have you done to her?’ she whispered, aghast. Her fearful gaze fell to a puce part of him that poked jauntily out of dirty white cotton. With a shudder of revulsion she sprang up and tottered back a step.

Jimmy whipped to his feet and caught her as she turned to run for the door. ‘Where you off to, Al?’ he asked, his voice guttural with lust. The arm about her waist tightened and he slid a hand up to squeeze a small breast. ‘Stay fer a bit and be nice to yer uncle … eh? Got a little kiss for me, have you?’

Alice shrieked and one of his brutal hands quickly muffled her cries. She could feel hot pressure behind her and felt the bile rise in her throat as he ground himself against her buttocks.

‘Come on, li’l Alice,’ he crooned. ‘That streak o’ piss boyfriend of yours ain’t old enough to know how it’s done. What you need is a real man. I’ll show you a better time’n he can manage.’ He dragged her back with him to the iron bed and forced her down on the dirty mattress.

Alice felt as though she were suffocating. She twisted her head away from his boozy breath, tried to squirm from the rough hands tearing at her clothes to reach her skin. She wanted to see her mum. She could hear her groaning but not locate her on the floor.

Tilly dragged herself to her knees and lunged for the bed. ‘Get off her! Get off her, yer filthy bastard. She’s yourn. What you doin’ to yer own daughter?’

Jimmy turned his head as Tilly pounded ineffectual punches at his thigh. ‘What you on about?’ he snarled.

‘She’s yourn … your kid … get off her, you … evil … fuckin’ … bastard.’

As the hand that had been gagging her slackened Alice jerked free and screamed. When Jimmy turned back to stare at her drop-jawed she drew a breath to yell again. The disbelief in his eyes at what her mum had said was already being dimmed by lust. His rough fingers pinched her lips again to quieten her. ‘She’s a lyin’ bitch,’ he mouthed close to Alice’s ear. ‘Don’t you take no notice. I ain’t yer daddy …’

Geoff was taking a final drag from his roll-up, leaning against the railings, when he heard Alice scream. He thought for a moment he must be mistaken, for only a minute or two previously he’d kissed her goodnight in the shelter of the doorway and she’d gone off humming happily. But this was The Bunk and God only knew anything could happen in it. A second later he was bounding up the stairs.

The sight that met his eyes as he burst in to the Keivers’ room momentarily petrified him to the spot with shock. Tilly was on her knees at the bed edge, dragging at Jimmy’s legs and crying, her features mired in blood and snot. Alice had seen him over Jimmy’s shoulder and her eyes were dull with humiliation and misery. Jimmy turned his head and spat a curse at him. Aiming a backward kick at Tilly to get her off his legs he vaulted to his feet, closing his trousers.

Geoff quietly pushed to the door. ‘What d’you think yer doing?’ He sounded oddly polite yet tight-lipped wrath had drained his complexion of colour and narrowed his eyes to slits.

‘What you can’t, sonny. I’m gonna give her a good time. And when I’ve done with you I’ll finish her off ’fore she goes cold on me.’

Geoff continued into the room and circled as Jimmy started to navigate the furniture.

‘He’s got a knife, Geoff,’ Alice choked out. She’d seen Jimmy’s sly movement and the flash of silver as one of his hands withdrew from a pocket. She swiftly yanked down her rucked-up skirt and scrambled to the edge of the bed.

‘Stay where you are, Alice.’

It was uttered with such quiet authority that Alice obeyed Geoff and froze into immobility.

Slowly Tilly’s numbed senses were surfacing though a mist of pain and alcohol. She tried to pull herself onto her feet. But her legs buckled beneath her and she cried out in anguish and frustration. Her head was reeling, her throat clogged with blood and mucus, making her retch and gag. She sank again to her knees.

Jimmy lunged and Geoff dodged sideways. Jimmy chuckled and licked his lips on seeing he’d got a lucky hit and drawn blood. Red beads had sprung up on Geoff’s forearm and stained his shirt.

‘Come on … you can do better’n that, can’t you, sonny?’ he taunted then feinted with the knife a couple of times, showing off.

Alice had also seen the stain on Geoff’s shirt and she jumped off the bed, her darting eyes searching for something with which to attack Jimmy.

‘Stay where you are!’ Geoff roared at her. ‘Stay!’

Alice sank back on the bed edge.

Again Jimmy used the distraction to his advantage and got the blade glancing off Geoff’s left shoulder. The wound was deeper than the first but Geoff barely felt it for he’d got what he wanted. He’d drawn him in enough to strike. He jabbed a brutal fist at Jimmy’s nose with his right hand then followed it quickly with a left cross before dancing out of range of the waving knife. As Jimmy started to collapse he stepped in again and brought his knee viciously in to his groin then followed it through to slam under his chin. As Jimmy sagged to his knees he swiped out wildly at Geoff, spitting curses.

Nobody had seen Fran appear. From behind a half-open door, and a half-open eye, she’d watched the scene for minutes in silence. She’d seen her niece pulling down her skirts and her sister’s bloodied face and torn clothing. She’d seen Geoff Lovat’s heroic defence of her female kin. Now her husband was on his knees she walked in and raised, two-handed, the heavy pot she held. She brushed past Geoff and swung the vessel sideways, with all her might, into Jimmy’s cheek. He rolled away groaning, trying to avoid another blow from her. She followed, wordlessly, doggedly, and smashed the pot down again on his head as he writhed at her feet.

Geoff tried to push Fran clear as he saw the knife rising in Jimmy’s fist but he was too late and it scored Fran’s belly, finally drawing a rasping sound from her. Geoff came down on top of Jimmy, pinning him to floor to try and wrestle the blade from his grip. A moment later there was a loud grunt followed by a cough.

Geoff struggled to his feet and looked down at Jimmy’s rapidly blinking eyes. Suddenly the lids fell and his head sagged to one side. Geoff turned to the women in the room. All three were looking expressionlessly at the man sprawled on the floor.

‘Is he dead?’ Tilly croaked.

‘Dunno … Think so …’ Geoff answered hoarsely.