Patrick Brodie loved the West End, and he felt at home there.
He had no worries about losing his crown because he had earned it, fair and square, and he was respected and, more importantly, he was feared. He had made sure of that, and he was proud of it as well. Soho was a shithole to the majority of people. To him it was just a means to an end.
Lil, the love of his life, was cooking another baby and once she was delivered of it, she would be back to her usual self. His kids were smart, handsome and well-looked after. He had money all over the show, a beautiful home and he had what he had never believed was possible for a man brought up as he had been. He had happiness inside himself, real happiness, even if he didn't look like he did. Only Lil, his Lil, knew how happy he was and how much he cherished his life with her. Everything else was as nothing when measured against his family.
God had been good to him, he knew, and he thanked him every Sunday by paying his respects and enjoying the peace and tranquillity that church seemed to bring him.
Life, he felt, was good.
'My party is going to be the best party ever and you can invite any of your friends, Lance.'
Pat Junior was feeling magnanimous, even though his brother had been irritating him all day. He knew that he was being overly nice about Lance and his wicked tongue and though he had decided that he was just a really annoying little brother like any other, he understood his brother's unhappiness better than Lance did.
'Why would my friends want to go to your crappy party?'
Pat Junior shrugged at his brother's words. 'Well, the offer is there if you want to ask anyone.'
He stopped himself from saying, 'if you have anyone to ask that is', but he knew it was pointless because he didn't get any kind of thrill from hurting his brother's feelings. He knew Lance had the burden of knowing that their mum didn't really have a lot of time for him, though she pretended to, and that his Nanny Annie had too much time for him, which he guessed was why his mum got so annoyed with his brother.
His nan seemed to take Lance over as soon as she stepped on to the premises and that suited him because Pat hated her, really hated her, though he had never admitted that to anyone out loud, of course. He knew his mum put up with her and the girls liked her because she was enamoured with them like everyone else was. Twins did that, they made people take notice of them somehow. He adored his little sisters, and he understood why they made such an impression. But Lance was hard work and he felt for his brother even as he got angry with him.
So he sighed heavily, saying, 'Well you can ask anyone you want, OK?'
Lance nodded, feeling bad now. He knew Pat Junior was at the end of his considerable patience so he smiled and, as always, it changed his whole face; he looked handsome and innocent. The way he would have looked all the time if he wasn't always on the look out for slights or what he saw as insults.
'Thanks, mate. I'll think about it, all right?'
Pat Junior nodded.
And then they both sat down and watched Jackanory together in what was, for once, almost a friendly silence.
Lil walked in and saw her two sons together and smiled at them. They were both so alike and even Lance seemed happy for a change. As she sat down herself and sipped at a cup of tea, she wished that she could feel this contentment more often. But it was so difficult for her because she knew she couldn't.
Lance was watching her warily from the corner of his eye and the guilt that she felt because of him rose up inside her as it always did and made her feel so bad about herself that she almost cried. She tried as hard as she could with him, but the urge to slap this child of hers was overwhelming.
She watched as Patrick Junior glanced at his brother and then slipped his hand into Lance's, all the while acting like there was no atmosphere in the room and there was nothing to be worried about. It was the way that Lance grabbed at his brother's hand as if he was saving him from drowning that was the worst thing of all. Because she knew that Patrick was, as usual, acting as a wall that kept her and her second son as far away from each other as was physically possible and she did nothing to stop him.
Lil appreciated her eldest son's help and loved him all the more because she knew he was doing it all for her; she knew that he had no real time for Lance either.
Like her husband with Dennis Williams, who had eventually worn out his welcome, her son had the same attitude with his brother. Unlike Dennis Williams though, Lance had the sense to keep on his brother's good side.
Lil was worried though. Dennis had nearly brought trouble to her door and even though Pat had sorted it, she was still smarting from it. No matter what Pat said or, more to the point, didn't say, she had her mother to rely on where gossip was concerned.
The Williams brothers would always be trouble to them, she was convinced of that much at least.
Dave was nervous and he wondered what kind of reception he was going to get in Patrick's office. He hoped against hope that he would be alone, that he didn't have to talk to him with an audience of any kind. He felt Pat owed him that much at least but he couldn't demand it; his days of demanding anything were long gone.
The fact he was invited to the club was a touch because he knew that if Pat Brodie was going to do anything to him it would not be where he could be seen or heard. He needed to know the score, not just for him, but for his brothers who were waiting for him to let them know if they were safe or not. The family had been divided and all he could do now was to try to iron out their differences as best he could. If that meant swallowing his knob then he was willing to do it like a professional hostess. Dave was more than aware that anything he was given now would be the dregs and he had to accept that and work his way back into Pat's good books. He had to try to salvage something of their working relationship so that his brothers and himself could at least earn a crust of some sort.
He was also worried about what had happened to Dennis. He knew Jimmy had been on board, so he knew that it wasn't going to be anything he wanted to hear, though he would listen to the gory details if necessary and accept it with as good a grace as he could.
At the end of the day, he had to keep reminding himself that, no matter what, he had to do what was best for the rest of the family, himself included. That the old days were dead and gone. He had to take what was offered with as much pride and dignity as he could muster, and eventually it would all blow over.
At least that is what he kept telling himself.
As he parked his car and walked slowly through the evening bustle that was Soho, he felt the sickness rising inside his chest. This had once been his stomping ground, had once been the epitome of everything he had ever wanted or indeed ever achieved but now the streets were cold and unfriendly and he didn't feel a part of it all any more.
The flashing neon lights and the garish posters with nude women and their strategically placed stars, were alien to him. Sex was on sale everywhere, but underlying that was the stench of pimps and the Brodies, all out to take whatever they wanted.
The smell of Chinese food mixed with pasta was sickening and the grey-skinned women who only seemed to come alive at night looked sinister; their make-up and cheap clothes suddenly showing him just how false the world he had inhabited for so long really was.
Soho was all top show and if you scratched the surface you were reminded that it was all built on lies and pretence; he had been part of that pretence once and now he was being forced on to the sidelines. It was a very cruel lesson and one he would remember all his life.