The Take (9 page)

Ozzy was pleased with the answer.

'He also shags every bird in the houses, don't he?'

Jimmy smiled again. 'Yeah, but he ain't the only one to do that, is he? Anyway, his wife is ready to drop anytime. He's a family man at heart.'

'A family man? Are you having a tin bath, son?'

'You know what I mean. She is convinced it is a boy this time. A little lad would sort him out, no trouble.'

'If not, you tell him a big lad will be sorting him out if he ain't careful. Tell him the armed robberies are too close together and that's a recipe for Old Bill to start pissing all over him.'

'I'll relay the message, in me own words of course.'

Ozzy laughed loudly. 'You'll do, Jimmy me boy. Just keep him on a short leash, OK, he is upsetting people.'

Jimmy nodded. 'He is a really good enforcer you know, and in his own way he is fair.'

'I understand that, mate, but he also brings a lot of attention his way and that is what we want to avoid.'

'I know that, Oz, but he is loyal to you.'

Ozzy smiled then, the boy himself was too loyal really, but then family ties were closer than any other kind.

He snapped open his Kit Kat and ate it slowly, as always digesting everything that had been said before continuing.

'Now, an old mate of mine is getting out of Durham soon. Give him a job and keep your eye on him, OK?'

Jimmy nodded once more, knowing that whoever this was would be more likely to be keeping his eye on them.

'What's his name, Oz.'

'Bobby Blaine.'

Ozzy watched the colour drain from Jimmy's face.

Bobby's name was synonymous with lunacy and also with violence. It was why they had been such good mates.

Bobby B, as he was known, could instil fear into the meanest of hearts. Bobby was also a laugh, he was the funniest man that Ozzy had ever met, and he had met a few in his time. Bobby could smile and joke as he slit your throat, which of course was his downside, and the side that Ozzy wanted to use.

Jimmy decided he wouldn't give him too much responsibility until he had to because, knowing Bobby, he would only be out a year, if that, before he was once more at Her Majesty's pleasure. While he was home, though, he would use him.

Ozzy used people like he used his Kleenex, and when they ceased to be of any use, he binned them.

Simple as that.

Lena watched her daughter drag herself from the kitchen chair.

'My back's killing me, Mum.'

She looked awful. Lena would be very surprised if Jackie went full term with this child. Her belly was heavy and had already dropped, even though it wasn't due for another few weeks.

'It's all the weight you're carrying. That baby must be like Man Mountain Dean.'

They both laughed at the thought.

'I hope so, Mum. I like the name Dean, it's a manly, happy name.'

'You're not naming it Freddie then, after its father?'

This was said slyly to annoy her.

'Of course it will be called Freddie, but a second name should reflect the child's family background and character.'

Lena grinned. 'Better name it fucking Looney Tunes Jackson then, and be done with it.'

They laughed once more.

'Or how about calling it Radio Rental!'

They were shrieking with laughter now.

'Stop it, you rotten old cow. Want another cup of tea?'

Lena nodded and lit a cigarette. Giving it to her daughter she said gently, 'Sit yourself down, love, I'll make it.'

The kindness in her mother's voice was nearly Jackie's undoing, and as usual they had gone from hysterical laughter to verging on tears in seconds.

'Has he been home?' This was said quietly.

Jackie beamed as she answered. Drawing heavily on her Kensitas cigarette she said gaily, 'He is really excited, Mum, can't wait.'

Lena smiled once more, glad to see her daughter happy. The pregnancy was keeping her on an even keel for the moment. She prayed daily that Jackie would be delivered of a boy, it was what she wanted so desperately that she had spent huge amounts on seeing tarot readers, psychics, and any other fortune teller she could find in the local paper or through word of mouth.

All had said the same thing, it was a little lad. Well, it had better be.

Freddie was out and about a lot, but with her pregnant he was at least touching base more often. After the miscarriage he had been contrite and had blamed himself, but that wasn't going to last for ever.

'You are keeping off his back, aren't you?'

Jackie sighed. ''Course I am. It don't do me any good getting upset, does it? Like you always say, it won't bring him home.'

Lena decided not to pursue that line of conversation. The last year had been touch and go with Jackie and Freddie, especially since he had started working the houses along with the other businesses. She had been at the mercy of the houses herself a long time ago when her husband had been a pretender to the throne, and her Joseph had not had half the looks of Freddie. But then, brasses were a breed apart, everyone knew that. They looked out for the main chance and who could blame them?

Lena had sat it out for years, and now her husband was all hers. It was a hollow victory, she admitted, but a victory all the same. For Jackie, leaving Freddie was not an option and she knew that, but she still dreamed that one day her daughter would get what she wanted from her husband. From what she had heard, though, he was still pole-vaulting with anything in a short skirt. As her husband had remarked so often about his son-in-law, no change there then. And as her husband and Freddie Jackson were like two peas in a pod, she also knew that he was speaking from experience.

Maggie was smiling her usual sunny smile as she washed hair and made endless cups of tea. Her job as a trainee hairdresser was everything she had wanted and more, and her life revolved around Jimmy, work,
Dallas
and her family.

The fashions suited her, the glamorous looks were made for her wide-spaced eyes and thick blond hair, and as such she made a striking contribution to the salon where she worked. Even with the thick make-up she still looked young and fresh, and that was her attraction.

Her dear little face and happy-go-lucky charm worked wonders with the clientele and she made a fortune in tips. The owner of the salon, a tall woman with high hair and a pseudo French accent knew a find when she had one, and treated Maggie with the right amount of respect and caring.

This little girl was a quick learner, a kind-hearted and available listener, and did not see anything to do with the hairdressing or the salon beneath her. Madame loved her, and so did anyone who came into her orbit. All the other young girls she had trained up had smiled and worked and waited until they could go on the trot — a hairdresser's in Bethnal Green was not their idea of sophistication. Maggie was grateful to be there, and it showed in everything she did. Most of the week it was perms, older women who had had the same styles since the fifties. They had their hair done once a week, it was lacquered so much it would not have moved in a hurricane, and they gossiped and laughed as they drank tea. Three days later they came back for a 'combout'. And Maggie did these with her usual smile.

But it was the Friday nights and the Saturdays when Maggie came into her own. The new styles were second nature to her, and she managed to make the girls feel at ease in the old-fashioned salon. She played her own music on the record player: Simply Red. 'Holding Back The Years' and 'Money's Too Tight To Mention' always went down well, and she also made sure they had Thunderbird wine to drink. The place was buzzing, and Madame enjoyed having the youngsters back again. Maggie had done the business a big service just by being there. She was dreading the day she walked away like all the others. Maggie Summers was a grafter, and coming as she did from a family of wasters, that, in itself, was a touch. She also sensed that Maggie was not going to follow in their footsteps. This girl would go places, or die in the attempt. Only sixteen and already she knew what she wanted from life.

Maggie for her part thought Madame Modèle was the greatest thing to hit the earth and was determined to emulate her. She saw the way Madame was with the customers, and she instinctively understood that was the secret of good business. Even the lowliest of women were made to feel special in Madame Modèle's and Maggie loved her for that alone.

As she washed an elderly woman's hair she imagined the day when she would have a salon of her own and a bevy of pretty young women working underneath her all dressed in mint-green overalls and with their hair in French pleats. That had always been her dream, and like everything else she did, she threw herself into it wholeheartedly.

Maggie, unlike the rest of her family, was a person who thought of a goal and then moved heaven and earth to achieve it, and with Jimmy behind her she knew what she wanted was getting closer and closer by the day. He was already earning fortunes, and he was only twenty-one, it seemed that life was determined to give them both a break. Unlike her sister, she had no problem with her man working at the houses because she knew she could trust him. Unlike Freddie, her Jimmy didn't need strange at every opportunity and she could tell by the way he talked about the brasses that he had no interest in them. He saw them purely as a means to an end — at least she
hoped
he did.

She pushed the thoughts from her head.

Thanks to Ozzy they were set, and she knew that Jimmy and Freddie were going to be in work for many years to come. Already she and Jimmy had substantial savings, and even though most of it could not be put in the bank, they were now in a position to buy a small house.

Maggie was so happy she felt like she could sing from the rooftops. All she prayed for now was that her sister's baby was the boy she so desperately craved, then everything would be fine. She was already blow-drying and doing basic cutting. Before she knew it she would be the 'free' hairdresser to her family, but even that couldn't dampen her happy spirits today. Nothing could.

Life was getting better and better and soon she and Jimmy would be married and she would be able to relax. They were getting engaged in a few months and the wedding would be six months later. Even though she would only just be hitting seventeen, she knew there would be no opposition from the families. In fact, they were all looking forward to it. Everyone agreed that Maggie and Jimmy were a match made in heaven.

It was early evening and Freddie and Jimmy were in the office of the main house. It had become their hang-out, and it was all because of Freddie and his pursuit of strange. The house was situated in Ilford and was a large, spacious Victorian house that held a variety of women and a variety of drugs.

Freddie, unlike his younger counterpart, had embraced the emerging drug culture with both hands. Where Jimmy was content to maybe have a few joints when the night was over, Freddie was unable to let the night end. Never knew when enough was enough, never wanted to go home unless he had to.

He was snorting as much amphetamine as he could lay his hands on and as he was now dealing in large quantities that was a lot of speed. He also dropped blue ones, Dexies and Tenuate Dospan, slimming pills that added to his paranoia and often to his unpredictable temper.

As they sipped at cheap vodka and chatted about Ozzy's plans, Jimmy could see the tell-tale signs of a mounting rage coming from Freddie. His hands were shaking and his eyes were unfocused, he also had the sweats that heralded an amphetamine rush.

In short he was wired.

'You all right, Freddie?' This was said nonchalantly but carefully so as not to upset the large, overbearing man who was so obviously looking for trouble.

Freddie stared at him for long seconds. Jimmy could see him practically talking himself out of the fury he wanted so badly to unleash. It was like watching a boxer who had a hammer instead of a boxing glove. He knew he shouldn't use it but the temptation was too strong.

'You and Ozzy seem tight these days.'

Jimmy sighed inwardly. This was becoming a recurring theme and in a way he could understand the logic behind it. Freddie was the number one, and he had trouble sitting around waiting for Jimmy to relay everything.

His visits to Ozzy had become a bone of contention between them. But as Jimmy had never had even a parking ticket or a caution, he was the only person who could visit the unit in relative peace.

To visit A cat or double A cat prisoners you had to go through a rigorous and unnecessary police check. This entailed having passport photos taken, filling in a form to make sure you were who you said you were and resided where you said you resided, and finally having a bored PC come to your home to verify you looked like the person on the photograph.

This was fine on paper but, as Jimmy was proving with every visit, all the police checks in the world could not stop messages or even orders being exchanged between the prisoner and their visitor. Freddie knew this and it had been his idea that Jimmy be the go-between, but Jimmy had become aware that his cousin was not too happy about the situation now.

However, that was something he could do nothing about. Ozzy called the shots and that was that. He understood his cousin's feelings, he was after all the man who had set this up. Freddie had been put in Parkhurst after he had been deemed unable to rehabilitate. This was due to the fact that he had maimed and fought guards and prisoners alike. He had not taken kindly to being locked up, and his natural anger had been unleashed at
the
littlest provocation. It was only on the unit that he had felt at ease, and in a way it had done him the world of good. He had tasted serious skulduggery and he had loved every second of it.

His six weeks in Shepton Mallet acclimatising for his release had been fantastic since Ozzy's arm was long and it was respected everywhere. Freddie had been given a hero's welcome and he had also had a single cell, a few quid and as much drink and fags as he could manage.

Now, though, he was starting to resent Jimmy being the only means of communication with Ozzy. Freddie being Freddie couldn't help thinking that he wasn't being told the whole story, which in fairness was often the case. It was hard for Freddie to accept that Jimmy was a doer, he was a thinker and worst of all he was
liked
.