The Family

‘Don’t need no schoolin’ to be shrewd.’ Jimmy nodded at him. ‘You was the one learned the right lessons.’

‘Wot … like not to wet the bed ’cos I’d get the belt?’ Stephen took a step forward and put his lips close to his father’s unshaven cheek. ‘Yeah, I learned that lesson all right,’ emerged in a hiss.

‘And it were a lesson you needed to learn, son,’ Jimmy said in his weary, gentle way. ‘Did you want all the kids round here teasing the life outta yer ’n’ callin you names like “piss-pants”?’ Before Stephen could recover from the shock of hearing his father finally acknowledge his brutality, Jimmy continued, ‘You knew early on that you gotta be ambitious and make some money.’ A paternal hand patted his son’s shoulder. ‘When you was just a nipper, you was the one always wanted to earn himself coppers when the gambling school was up ’n’ running on a Sunday dinnertime; always acting dogger-out for us, wasn’t you. Your brother was too fond of sparring down the boys’ club with pals, or kicking a football about, as I remember.’

‘Yeah … ’n’ I soon learned he was wiser, ’cos doin’ little jobs for Solly fer nuthin’ paid off eventually in a fuckin’ big way. Anyhow, whatever I earned, you or Mum ’ud have it straight off me.’

Jimmy shrugged, all affable. ‘Don’t want to start no arguments with you, son, nor hear you speak bad about yer mum, God rest her. She did her best …’

‘I’ll never speak bad about her … only you!’ Stephen exploded. ‘Don’t you try to twist me words, you crafty bastard.’

‘Right … right … calm down,’ Jimmy crooned soothingly. ‘All I’m saying, Stevie, is I’m surprised you’re the sidekick and Bobbie’s in charge. That’s all I’m sayin’ …’

‘Yeah … well, tell someone else,’ Stephen spat and strode off. His hands were thrust casually in his pockets, but his face was flushed and his mouth compressed in a thin line.

Faye moved back from the doorway as she glimpsed Stephen crossing the road. She wouldn’t usually eavesdrop on other’s conversations, but she’d stopped, out of sight, just behind the doorjamb because she’d had an inkling her stepfather might try to stir up trouble. But the trouble he seemed to want to cause wasn’t the sort she’d anticipated. She’d thought he’d wind Stephen up and point him in the direction of the Keivers. She knew Jimmy was itching to start a war with Tilly Keiver; she’d seen the way he stared obsessively at the woman when she passed by, nose in the air, or occasionally two fingers in the air, when he tried to accost her and she couldn’t be bothered to tell him to piss off. But, instead, it seemed Jimmy’s intention was to drive a wedge between his sons. Silently, Faye hurried up the stairs in case he came in and saw her and guessed she’d been loitering and listening.

Jimmy stayed where he was and watched, slit-eyed against the afternoon sun, as Stephen went about his business. When his son disappeared into a hallway opposite he turned and shuffled back inside, looking smug.

The moment Faye entered the room, Adam immediately put out his arms to be picked up. She settled him against her hip then felt the dampness from his bottom seep into her skirt. She sighed and touched his posterior.

‘He wet?’ Edie demanded as she noticed her daughter’s actions.

Faye nodded.

‘Get him in the back room and clean him up ’fore yer dad finds out,’ Edie garbled. ‘Y’know he reckons it’s high time Adam was trained.’

‘He’s only two and a bit,’ Faye protested. ‘He’s bound to have an accident now ’n’ again.’

‘You ’n’ Michael was dry by then,’ Edie said querulously, shooting an anxious look at the door as she saw the handle turning.

Faye did as she’d been told and immediately took the boy to change him. The exchange she’d just overheard between Stephen and his father had confirmed her worst suspicions about Jimmy Wild. He was a brutal man, and if he felt disgruntled enough he wouldn’t hold back on disciplining Adam for wetting himself any more than he had with his own flesh and blood. She touched the soft cheek of the child lying on the bed then bent to plant a kiss where her fingers had stroked. Adam had been only six months old when Jimmy Wild walked into their lives. Faye felt bitterly upset that the little boy might soon, with her mother’s blessing, start to call the vile man daddy.

That awful thought made her determined to get away for an hour or so, and take Adam with her. Though it was late afternoon, it was warm and would stay light for some hours yet. Carefully she withdrew the rolled-up five-pound note from its hiding place. She’d secreted it in the channel of fabric where string was threaded to hold up a rag that served as a curtain at the window. Having loosened her clothes, and slipped the money into her cleavage, she dried off Adam then went back into the other room, leading him by the hand.

‘Going off out for a while. I’ll take Adam with me for a bit of air.’

‘Where you off to?’ her mother demanded.

‘Just out,’ Faye said in exasperation. ‘Can’t stay cooped up in this dump all the time.’

‘You only just finished work,’ Edie pointed out.

‘So?’ Faye made an impatient gesture. ‘If you must know, I said I’d meet Marge and we’d take a stroll just for something to do,’ she lied. Marge, the young widow who helped out at the bakery on Wednesdays and Saturdays, was about ten years older than she was, and had lost her husband in the Great War, but they’d struck up a bit of a friendship. After all, they had something in common in that they’d both had enough of Mr Travis’s sweaty hands on them.

Adam started to grizzle and immediately drew Jimmy’s surly attention. ‘Gawd’s sake, let her take him off out. The kid never stops whining.’

Once down the stairs Faye set Adam on the ground and his mood seemed improved by the sunshine. She glanced down at the house where Matilda Keiver lived and drew in a deep breath, plucking up the courage to go and find her.

She’d moved no more than a yard or two when she realised she might not need to approach Matilda to get the information she needed. Her daughter, Alice, was just coming out of her house and was starting up the road towards her, leading a little girl by the hand.

Faye took a quick look up at her window. She didn’t want her mother or Jimmy seeing her talking to any of the Keivers; she’d be interrogated for days over what had been said. She set off briskly round the corner into Paddington Street and loitered there, feeling nervous. As Alice drew level she made her way towards her.

‘Sorry to bother you, I’m just wondering if you could tell me where your cousin Robert lives.’

Alice looked at Faye and then at the blond child who was sucking his thumb. A moment later her daughter Lilian took one of his hands and began to swing it, making him laugh.

‘Why do you want him?’ Alice replied, trying not to sound suspicious. She knew this pretty young woman was Jimmy’s stepdaughter, and she knew her uncle wasn’t above sending somebody else out to do his dirty work.

‘It’s nothing to do with Jimmy, or my mum,’ Faye said sharply, guessing what was running through her mind. ‘It’s just …’ She moistened her lips. She knew nothing about Alice, but instinctively, from the first moment she’d spotted her laughing in Robert’s car, she’d decided that she looked the sort of person you’d want as a friend. ‘Your cousin gave me a bit of money … a loan. I want to give it back.’

Alice could tell from her uneasiness that it had taken courage for Faye Greaves to stop her and ask how to find Robert. Her cousin was popular with the girls; all the family were aware of that. By anybody’s standards, Rob had done all right for himself, and ambitious women shamelessly chased him because of it.

Faye could tell Alice assumed she was after her wealthy cousin to wheedle for more not pay anything back. Swallowing the lump of indignation that closed her throat, she pulled the banknote out of her blouse and thrust it at Alice.

‘Give him this, will you.’

‘Give it to him yourself,’ Alice returned, but not unkindly. She smiled at the little boy who was skipping on and off the pavement with her daughter. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Adam.’

‘How old?’

‘Two ’n’ a bit.’ Another brusque answer.

‘Do you want me to write the address down?’

‘I can remember it, thanks,’ Faye said gruffly. Having achieved what she’d set out to do, she scooped Adam up, soothing him as he tried to wriggle free to continue his game with Lilian. Having mumbled a goodbye, Faye carried on down Paddington Street, Adam squirming in her arms.

It was a good walk to Tufnell Park. Faye didn’t yet know this North London territory well and twice had to stop and ask for directions after taking a wrong turning. Little Adam was flagging before they’d made halfway. But she urged him on, lifting him when necessary. Finally she was glad to see a street name high up on a wall that told her she’d arrived at her destination. She stared along the neat row of houses in wonderment. She had no doubt that she was in a good area. A similar neighbourhood to this existed in Dartford. It had been some distance from the decaying turning that she and her family had inhabited, just as this place was a safe distance from Campbell Road.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a smartly dressed couple who descended the steps of one of the villas and sedately sauntered by, arm in arm. Adam was whimpering again so Faye swung him once more into her arms and walked to the end of the street. She looked up at a large house set on its own. Her mouth felt arid and for two pins she’d have turned right around and gone back the way she’d come. Robert Wild lived in the best house in the road. She realised he wouldn’t believe, any more than had his cousin Alice, that she really wanted to return his money. Hadn’t she already learned from his sarcasm that he doubted she’d willingly give up her treasure? The driveway at the side of the house was empty. He was out in his car. She knew it was cowardly to be glad she’d missed him, nevertheless she was feeling relieved.

Adam had wriggled his hand free of hers and darted forward to chase a cat that had been languidly stretching against warm stone. It rose and stalked off towards a green iron gate, then slipped beneath, thwarting the toddler’s attempt to grab its tail and drag it back.

Faye scooped him up, but he stiffened in temper. Soon he was howling loud enough to make a curtain next door twitch, so she dropped him back on his feet and quickly sped up the steps with the intention of posting the five-pound note through the letterbox. He’d know where it had come from. She’d reached the top and her hand was reaching towards a brass letter plate when the sound of a car approaching made her turn. As the vehicle headed towards her, she met his eyes through the windscreen. There was no way she’d make it to the bottom step, let alone escape before he got out.

‘I’ve brought you this,’ Faye blurted, descending a step. She hurried down the rest, one hand outstretched. When he simply looked at her offering, she put it down on the warm bonnet of the car.

‘Decided to stay put with Jimmy, have you?’ he asked in that acerbic way he had. His eyes slew to the child as Adam clung to her legs and mewed.

‘He’s tired. It was a long walk.’

‘Have you given up your plan to get away from them?’

Faye vigorously shook her head in answer. ‘I shouldn’t have brought him. It wasn’t fair, expecting him to walk so far.’

‘You’ll need that then.’ Robert picked up the cash and held it out.