bridges. Knowing Jed would strongly disagree, Frankie decided that if and when she went, she wouldn’t tell him. Hopefully, if she was careful, he would never find out anyway.
Joey punched the air in delight as he spotted Dominic waiting for him in reception. Dom had got him an interview in the building where he worked and Joey had just been offered the position. It was nothing special. He’d be working as a post boy/courier, and would spend half of his day in the post room and the other half delivering mail and parcels in and around the City.
Dominic hugged him. ‘I take it you got it, then?’
Joey dragged him into a nearby pub. ‘Of course I did. Let’s celebrate.’
Dom ordered a bottle of champagne and they sat down at a quiet table. ‘Is everything still OK for tomorrow?’
Joey nodded. His nan had come out of hospital only this morning and insisted that he bring his new friend round for one of her special roasts the following day. Ever since they’d got back together, Joey had spent most of his time staying at Dominic’s flat. Dom had been keeping him financially, as since his mum had died and his dad had got locked up, he’d been completely brassic.
‘Once I get my first wage packet, I’ll pay you back all that money I borrowed,’ Joey said happily.
Dom shook his head. He had a high-powered job and certainly wasn’t short of a few quid. ‘I didn’t lend it to you, Joey, I gave it to you. I tell you what you can do though, when you get that first pay packet – you can take me out for a nice slap-up meal. The works, I want.’
As Dom left the table to answer a business call, Joey grinned. His boyfriend was one in a million, and the only downside to his life was that his mum wasn’t able to share his happiness with him.
Joey rarely thought consciously of his dad any more. Now and again he dreamed about him, but other than that, he’d completely erased him from his mind and his life.
When he saw Dom walk back inside the pub, Joey smiled. Uncle Raymond and Polly were also going to his grandparents’ for dinner tomorrow and Joey felt that perhaps the time was right to tell his family about his and Dom’s relationship.
It might come as a shock to them at first, but the quicker he and Dominic were accepted as a couple, the happier Joey could be.
Joycie felt content as she sat on the bench in the garden. Raymond and Stanley had worked wonders while she had been in hospital. They’d repaired the broken furniture, assembled a new pigeon shed, replaced the trampled flowers, and the house itself was absolutely spotless. As Stanley handed her a cuppa, Joyce urged him to sit down next to her.
‘Where’s Joey?’ she asked.
Stanley shrugged. ‘I think he said he had an interview or something. To be honest, Joycie, the last few weeks he’s hardly been here. He’s got that mate, Dominic, ain’t he, who lives in Islington, and he’s been stopping over at his. He did pop in the other day, mind, and he seems much brighter and happier.’
‘Well, who exactly is this mate? I’m sure I ain’t met no Dominic,’ Joycie said suspiciously.
‘Joey says we have met him before. He said he came to his and Frankie’s birthday party earlier this year. You gotta remember he’s sixteen, Joycie. If Joey wants to stop at his mate’s flat, we can’t do much to stop him.’
Joyce pursed her lips. ‘Well, good job he’s bringing this Dominic around for dinner tomorrow. At least we can check him out, make sure he comes from a good home. For all we know, he could be a druggie, Stanley.’
Just a short distance down the road, Frankie had felt tired and depressed all day, so had taken herself off to the bedroom for a catnap. On awakening, still bleary-eyed, she stumbled into the lounge. The reek of aftershave hit her nostrils immediately, and she was shocked to see Jed spruced up in a shirt and trousers.
‘What’s happening? Why you all dressed up? Are we meant to be going out?’
Jed kissed her on the forehead and laughed. ‘I’m going out, you’re staying ’ere, Frankie. I told you the other day I was going to a stag night. You know my cousin, Sammy? Well, his mate Donny’s getting married at the weekend.’
‘You never told me anything,’ Frankie said stubbornly.
‘I did. Your mind’s all over the place at the moment. It’s because you’re borey – that means “pregnant” in Romany – before you ask. Anyway, you don’t have to feel left out, ’cause I’m taking you to their wedding reception over in Kent.’
Frankie moved away from him and flopped onto the sofa. ‘Do you have to go to his stag night, Jed? I’ve been stuck here on my own all day and I’m so bored.’
Sitting down next to her, Jed squeezed her hand. ‘Of course I have to go. You don’t want me to look like a dinlo, do ya? Why don’t you go next door and watch telly with me mum and dad?’
At the mention of Jed’s mother, Frankie burst into tears. ‘I want my own mum, not someone else’s,’ she sobbed.
Making sure that her tears didn’t ruin his Ralph Lauren shirt, Jed put an arm around her. ‘Look, no one can bring your mum back, Frankie. I know what happened was rotten, but you’ve got your cuntsmouth of a father to blame for that. We’re gonna be parents ourself soon, so you gotta pull yourself together. How you gonna take care of our chavvie properly if you’re upset all the poxy time?’
Frankie stared at him in horror. Her mum had only been dead for two months, so surely she was allowed to grieve. ‘Just go, Jed,’ she said angrily.
Jed stood up. He was gagging for a good night out and he wasn’t going to let Frankie spoil it for him. ‘I’ll try not to be late. Why don’t you have an early night? You look ever so tired,’ he said gently.
Frankie wanted to tell him to fuck off, but didn’t have the guts to. If she was still living back at home, she would have told him where to go, but what was the point now when she was so reliant on him?
‘Love you,’ Jed said, as he slammed the trailer door.
Over in South London, Eddie Mitchell reread the letter he’d received today from Paulie. He didn’t usually receive a lot of post, but today he’d had mail from Raymond, his Uncle Reg and his eldest brother.
Raymond’s letter was pretty brief, but he’d asked for a visiting order to be sent, which had pleased Ed no end.
Reggie’s letter had been pleasant, but long-winded. He’d spoken in detail about Auntie Joan, Auntie Vi, Uncle Albert, but had said very little else of interest.
It had been Paulie’s letter that had been the real eye-opener. A, Ed hadn’t expected to ever hear from him again after the fall-out they’d had earlier this year, and B, no other fucker had told him that Jed and Jimmy O’Hara had turned up and ruined Jessica’s funeral.
To say Ed was livid was the understatement of the century. It wasn’t just the fact that the bastards had had the front to turn up, it was also because no one had felt fit or brave enough to tell him about it. Eddie was especially annoyed with Gary and Ricky. He could understand people not wanting to tell him what had happened by letter, but his sons had been to visit him week in, week out.
Folding up Paulie’s letter, Ed shoved it under his pillow. Even his own flesh and blood obviously believed he’d lost the plot that fucking much he couldn’t handle any more bad news.
Turning on his side, Eddie stared at his vulgar cellmate. Big Bald Baz was in his usual position, lying flat on his stomach, snoring and farting like an unadulterated pig. Ed didn’t smile much lately, but tonight he couldn’t help but grin. All them arseholes that thought he was a sunken ship would think differently after tomorrow. He had mourned as much as he could mourn, cried as many tears as he could cry, and now he couldn’t wait to prove his doubters wrong. From tomorrow onwards, Eddie Mitchell was back with a bang.