She was eighteen and three months and she was listening to Freddie Jackson as if he was the oracle and looking at him as if he was something the cat had dragged in just for her.
Well, fuck her now, let her make her own mistakes. He had just about had enough. If Liselle stayed upstairs he was safe enough. If not, she could sort this lot out herself.
Jackie was alone in her house and as usual she was drinking vodka mixed with wine. She had been so sure that she was going to lay Maggie out once and for all, but she had ended up leaving with her daughters and her shame at her predicament was growing by the second.
Her daughters should have seen her confront and conquer the woman who had accused their father of rape, yet she knew they believed it of him. Her own kids thought that little of their father, and she knew they thought even less of her.
It was this that was troubling her so much. In a few hours her whole world had come crashing down around her ears and she knew that there would never be any going back now. Her mother and father would be in bits about it, especially after the kid dying. He was the kid now, because she knew in her heart that Freddie was his father. Freddie had fathered that little boy.
If Maggie told Jimmy what she had said there would be murders. Maggie had denied it all but she had known her sister was lying through her teeth. Maggie was trying to save her, trying to save the family and on one level she understood that. But looking at Maggie today, with her perfect hair and her perfect home, the usual jealous animosity was to the fore.
Even with the grief she knew her sister was having to cope with, Jackie still found it hard to feel any pity for her. In fact she felt that Maggie had all the luck, even her bloody kid had died and she was once more a free agent.
What she wouldn't have given to have offloaded hers over the years. Especially the girls, who had driven her mad with their backchat and their constant sniping at her.
She picked up the bottle of vodka and saw that she had downed over two thirds of it, and she wasn't even starting to feel drunk. It took longer and longer now, she was just topping up. She was half pissed all day every day. But instead of her usual happy feeling she was experiencing an incredible anger. It was bubbling away and the more she thought of how she had humiliated herself at Maggie's, the more she felt she should do something, something spectacular, to make amends.
Rape! She was having a laugh if she thought that old flannel would wash. The hate was inside her once more. She could never allow herself to believe that her husband had done something so monstrous. It was, she decided, the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard of, and she was not going to let that fucking skank get away with the accusation.
She swallowed down the rest of her drink and poured herself out another, larger glass. She was feeling in the mood for revenge now and she had a good idea how she was going to achieve it.
Jimmy needed a rocket up his arse and she was going to see that he got just that. She would make Maggie think twice before she threw around those kind of allegations.
She was almost out of control now, she knew the signs, and she knew she was on the verge of losing the little bit of rationality she possessed.
Everyone was the enemy now, including her slag of a husband, and especially that skinny bitch who had the nerve to call herself a sister.
Paul was on the phone to Jimmy. 'He is cunting you up hill and down dale. Everyone is blanking him as best they can, but you have to come and get shot for me, Jim. He is fucking out of order.'
'Start clearing the pub, Paul, on the quiet, OK?'
Paul sighed and whispered angrily, 'I have had enough of him. Liselle is like the fucking anti-Christ, walking round with a face like a fucking Rottweiler chewing on a hornet's nest, and blaming me for her niece being out of her fucking box. And to add insult to injury, he is accusing me and you of being arse lickers for Oz. Who will not be in the least impressed when he hears about this lot.'
Paul sounded worried. Freddie was not a man anyone would take on lightly, and Paul, even though he had his shotgun, would much rather leave the man's removal to Jimmy Jackson.
Jimmy sighed. 'You're like a fucking old woman, Paul. Get a fucking grip, you nonce. Just do what I say and clear the pub. Leave everything else to me. I want a car and I want peace and quiet, do you get my drift?'
Paul didn't answer and Jimmy knew then that he was finally taking the seriousness of the situation on board.
'When I arrive, I want you to fuck off, and I don't want to see you until the morning, all right?'
Paul was nodding in complete and utter consternation. 'OK.' Only that morning he had said there would be murders. He had not, however, meant it literally.
Freddie was calling out to him from the bar, 'Phoning your boyfriend? Tell him I am ready when he is.'
Melanie was laughing her head off and this alone was annoying Paul. He knew Jimmy could hear it all as well. He felt like a kid who had been caught out grassing, but then again, he knew that was how Freddie wanted him to feel.
'Ignore him, Paul. Just get yourself out of there, OK.'
The line went dead then and Paul stared at the phone as if he had never seen it before. As he replaced the receiver, he saw his wife standing at the top of the stairs. The fear on her face was evident as he said quietly, 'Pack a bag, we are out of here.'
'What about Melanie?'
Paul shrugged in exaggerated boredom. 'What about her?'
Maggie was alone, and as always since her baby had died she let the quiet envelop her. She liked being on her own. It gave her a feeling of security because she could still pretend that he was alive, that he was going to walk through the door laughing with his daddy. Only poor Jimmy walked in by himself and the bubble burst and she became more aloof than ever.
All that wasted time, all those years when she had not been able to even touch the child without a feeling of revulsion. Freddie taunting her with his eyes and with his smiles, how had she lived through that?
She wondered at times how she had coped with it all. Now she would put up with anything to have him back beside her, no matter how much his presence might hurt her.
And Jackie – the balloon would be going up soon there. She knew her sister too well. Now she had this big black secret that she could use as a big stick, and Jackie would take great pleasure in beating her with it.
Maggie hated her at times, and she never wanted to see her again, but it was still second nature to her to try and protect the woman who would happily destroy her and her life.
She waited patiently for her husband to return.
'This is between me and Freddie.'
Glenford sighed, much like Paul had a few minutes earlier. 'Let me come with you, eh?'
Jimmy shook his head. 'Nah, I have a lot of sorting out to do. You get yourself off home, mate. You've been stuck to me like shit to a blanket all day.'
'Is this as serious as it feels, Jimmy?' Glenford's voice was soft. He had a deep brown voice and it was a kind voice, unless the person he was addressing had upset him in some way. Then his voice sounded deadly, and the listener was aware that their days were liable to be numbered unless they did exactly what he was asking of them.
It was this determination, which Jimmy also had in abundance, that had made them such good friends.
'Do you remember all those years ago, Jimmy, when Freddie tried to have me over with that shit grass?'
Jimmy nodded.
'I knew even then that you were to be trusted and Freddie was nothing but a piece of shit. A lucky piece of shit, he had been lucky enough to have been banged up with Ozzy who saw a worker and utilised him. But without you he would not have lasted a month, and do you know the worst thing of all?'
Jimmy shook his head.
'Freddie knows that as well, and that, my friend, is why this day had to come.'