Joyce indicated that her throat was dry, so Stanley held the paper cup to her mouth and urged her to sip some water. As she laid her head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, Stanley spoke honestly and kindly to her.
‘I’m so sorry for leaving you, Joycie. This is all my fault, darling, but I want you to know that I still love you and from now on, whatever happens, I’ll look after you and help you get better.’
Joyce turned towards him. She was too weak to sit up properly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m ever so sorry for smashing up your pigeon shed, and even though I don’t always show it, I do love you too, Stanley Smith.’
Joycie seemed to recover quickly after her reconciliation with Stanley, and a month later the doctors gave her the go-ahead to return home. She had suffered some kind of nervous breakdown, which the doctors said wasn’t uncommon after the death of a child.
Joyce spent her last morning at the hospital sitting on an armchair by the window reading the Daily Mail. Stanley and Raymond were coming to collect her and were due to arrive soon. As the sun beat down through the glass, Joyce put down her paper and sat deep in thought. She still missed her daughter dreadfully, but after her recent illness, she knew that her own life had to go on. She felt much better mentally and physically since the doctors had taken her off those awful bloody tablets. They had turned her into a zombie, and the more her dosage was reduced, the better she had started to feel.
Watching two sparrows splashing about in a bird bath, Joycie smiled. She couldn’t wait to get back to the house in Rainham and its beautiful garden, soon to be her own. Gary and Ricky had come to visit her last week, explaining Eddie’s wishes.
‘Me dad is in bits and he can’t apologise enough for what happened, Joycie. He loved your Jess and he’ll never forgive himself for the awful mistake he made. Anyway, he wants you to have the house. He said signing it over to you is the least he can do,’ Gary told her.
Joyce had been stunned and hadn’t known what to say or do. ‘I need to discuss this with my Stanley and Raymond. Can you pop back tomorrow, boys? And I’ll let you know my decision then,’ she said.
Stanley had gone apeshit. ‘Can’t you see what the bastard’s trying to do, Joycie? He’s trying to ease his own guilt by buying us. Tell him to stick his house where the sun don’t shine.’
Keen for his parents to have a better life, Raymond disagreed and had a long chat with his father. ‘Look, Dad, your ex-council house must be worth a fair old lump sum. If you take Ed up on his offer, you can sell that and live the life of Riley. I know how you feel about Eddie, but for once you wanna think about your own well-being. For all Ed’s faults, we both know that he adored Jessica, and he didn’t mean to do what he did. If you let him sign the house over to Mum, you and her will be set up for the rest of your lives. You’ll never have to worry about money again. Even though you don’t agree, you’ve gotta think of Mum. She loves that house and it makes her feel close to Jessica. Knowing that she owns it will help her recovery no end.’
‘But what about all the memories, Raymond? Every time I walk in the kitchen, I picture Jessica standing at that cooker.’
Raymond put a comforting arm around his father’s shoulder. ‘Decorate the place so it don’t look the same. Take my advice, Dad, take Eddie up on the offer.’
Joycie was snapped out of her daydream by the arrival of her husband and son. ‘There you are. I’ve been ready and waiting for you for over an hour.’
Stanley smiled. Joycie’s moaning only proved to him that his wife was on the mend. ‘Hold me arm, Joycie,’ he ordered her.
Joyce glared at him. ‘I’m not an invalid, you silly old goat. I’m quite capable of walking, you know. Now pick up that case, Stanley, and hurry up and get me out of this godforsaken loony bin.’
Eddie Mitchell smiled as he placed the file in his sock. Tomorrow was the big day, and he couldn’t wait to wipe the smiles off the faces of Big Bald Baz and his dickhead mates.
Ed had found an inner strength over the last few weeks, and had eased himself into the prison system. He’d even made friends with a young screw called Johnny, who was easily won over.
Obviously, he never stopped thinking of his beautiful wife, but as the weeks had passed, the tears and pain had now turned into anger and a stomach full of revenge. One day Jed O’Hara would pay for what he had made him do, Eddie would make sure of it.
Ed didn’t allow himself to think of Jessica’s murder at all any more; instead he concentrated on all the good times that they’d had. Holidays, Christmases, parties, that kind of stuff, but most of all he pictured himself and Jessica lying in bed together. Those were the very special times, when no one else in the world, not even the kids, had existed.
As soon as Big Bald Baz stopped snoring, Eddie prepared himself for the usual claptrap out of the fat prick’s mouth.
‘All right, Mitchell? You’re not thinking of that night you did your wife in again, are you?’
While Baz chuckled, Eddie did his best to keep hold of his temper. He’d been desperate for weeks to shut the ponce up, but he wasn’t about to do it in the cell. Eddie loved a bit of impact, so to have Baz in front of his cronies was the only way forward.
Pretending to scratch his foot, Eddie smirked as he ran his fingers along the file that Johnny had managed to smuggle in. He’d doctored the thing himself by rubbing it endlessly against the brick wall. Sharp as a razor the fucker was now, with a point like the Eiffel Tower.
When Baz let out one almighty fart, Eddie picked up his book. The geezer was filth, an utter animal, and Ed couldn’t wait to get rid of his oversized carcass once and for all.
Unaware that her dad was up to his old tricks again, Frankie stood awkwardly in Alice O’Hara’s kitchen. Unfortunately for her, it was time for another cooking lesson.
‘Now, don’t stand there doing nothing. You’re never gonna learn how to be a good wife if you don’t do stuff with your own hands. Wash that liver under the cold tap, then roll it in the flour,’ Alice ordered.
Frankie had been relatively lucky with sickness during her pregnancy. She’d had a couple of bouts of it in the first few weeks, but since then she’d been OK. Until now, that was.
Picking up the liver, Frankie quickly slung it back down on the worktop. ‘I can’t do it. It feels horrible,’ she said.
‘Don’t be such a dinlo,’ Alice said, picking the liver up and waving it in front of her nose.
Feeling under duress, Frankie tried to touch it again. Without warning, she immediately heaved and slung her guts up all over the kitchen floor. Feeling embarrassed and scared of Alice’s reaction, Frankie began to cry.
‘Now, stop all that. You can’t help it, you’re pregnant,’ Alice said kindly, as she led her into the lounge.
While Alice went off to clear up the mess, Frankie felt extremely sorry for herself. She missed her own family terribly. Joey, her mum, Nan, Grandad and, even though he’d done a dreadful thing, she even missed her dad.
Living with Jed was turning out to be not as much fun as Frankie had hoped. She loved the evenings when they were alone and all cosied up in the trailer, but when Jed was out grafting, she hated it. Alice taking a special interest in her potential homemaking skills wasn’t exactly helping matters, either.
Frankie spoke to Joey virtually every day and she knew that her nan was much better and was moving back into the house with her grandad. The trouble was, Jed had made her promise that she would have no more to do with her family, and, each day that passed, Frankie missed them that little bit more.
‘When we get wed, you’ll be an O’Hara, Frankie. Look at the way they’ve treated you and me. You’re my girl now, we’re having