Jimmy had never been the same, and Freddie was more than aware of that. He didn't even stay for a drink with him any more unless he had to, and Freddie was fed up with it all. It was a brass, so what was the big problem? It was certainly a melon scratcher as far as he was concerned, anyone would think it was a real person who had died, someone with a life, or at least a life expectancy.
Jimmy was blanking him. He knew a blank when he got one, and he was getting a bit miffed with it all. It seemed young Jimmy could be one awkward ponce, an observation he had made many years ago. Now, though, it seemed Jimmy was under some kind of impression that what he thought actually mattered.
The atmosphere between them was still rife with accusation and even though they had never once discussed it since the fateful night, the blame was there whenever Jimmy looked at him and it was starting to really give him the hump.
This friendly mugging off had to stop, and Freddie was now ready to address it.
Since the night Jimmy had come to his house all testosterone and anger, he had made a point of keeping his trap shut. He knew that Jimmy had a point and he'd been quite happy to play the game. Now, however, it was over and time to look through the round window. Freddie was aware that it was still too soon to flex his muscles, so he smiled and shook hands and wished Jimmy well.
Outwardly at least.
But he did not have 'wanker' tattooed on his forehead, and he was tired of being treated like one. Inside, he was fuming.
And now he had exactly what he had been waiting for. The fact it had come at such a timely pass just made it seem all the more enjoyable.
The Blacks were kicking off over every little thing, he had seen to that himself. He had been having little digs at every available opportunity, and had made sure they were now both sick of him.
Their main supplier was over from Amsterdam and, oh dear, it seemed he was in Glasgow, which meant little Jimmy had to get his arse up there quick smart. The man was supposed to have been in London, where the main action was to take place. The Blacks were doing their nuts, as was the Amsterdam bloke, and now poor Jimmy had to go and smooth it all over. Well, such was life, eh? He grinned to himself. He had made a point of fucking up the arrangements and the Blacks and he didn't augur well, so Jimmy would have to go.
Maggie was doing her crust because she wanted to go out for their anniversary, and now that was all gone skew-whiff and, judging by the telephone conversation Jimmy had just had with her, she was not a happy bunny.
Well fuck her, and fuck Jimmy.
Freddie smiled again. As Jimmy left to pack a bag and get a flight to Scotland, he stayed in the pub with Paul and Liselle, happier than he had been for ages, and started the serious drinking of the night.
Maggie was fuming, and she made sure that when Jimmy got home she would not be there. She knew he hated coming home to an empty house. He liked her being there all of the time, and she also knew that Jimmy, being Jimmy, had no real idea where his clothes were kept. So she drove to her mother's and smiled grimly at the thought he would have to drag the dressing room apart to find his underclothes.
Well, let him. She was sick to death of him always being available for everyone else in the world, except her. She was so angry with him that she had no interest in his trip, or anything else for that matter. She had talked to Pat, who had been her usual high-handed self about everything. She was another one who thought she was the dog's bollocks and she was nothing, without her brother she was nothing. Like Jackie she was only as good as the man they were embroiled with.
Well, Maggie had her own life and her own businesses… but deep inside she knew she needed Jimmy just as much. They were trying for a baby, and somehow she'd felt sure it would finally happen. This was to have been their special night, and when he told her he had to go to Scotland she had felt like launching him into outer space. She had new underwear, a bottle of champagne being chilled and strawberries and cream waiting to be consumed. All the things the women's magazines told her would make the night sexy, romantic and ultimately exciting.
She smiled wryly Pity the magazines never allowed for when the man in the scenario was a fucking drug-dealing shit-bag who would have to fly to Scotland at the last minute because another couple of drug barons had made a fuck-up of momentous proportions. She supposed they assumed everyone reading their crap were like them, middle class, married to bankers or advertising men, people in suits. No doubt the nearest they got to the criminal fraternity was if they published the crime figures.
At this moment in time Maggie really envied them. Sometimes, when the women came into her salon and talked about their lives, she really loathed them. Not the ones from her world, with their bleached hair and their permatans, but the ones that came in over the weekend. The execs, they had nicknamed them, the ones who talked about their holidays and their jobs. The women who didn't think it normal to discuss a friend's husband's court case, or his latest encounter with the female sex. Who saved up for things, and wanted to get promoted at work because the money would mean they could start a family.
Women whose husbands were not called away at a second's notice, or who didn't put their lives on the line every day and risk a hefty prison sentence.
She had wanted to give Jimmy an ultimatum at one point this night, but she suddenly knew she would be wasting her breath. It had taken this to make her see her life for what it really was.
Nothing she said would stop him going, so she decided that just for once she would not be there like a good little girl. He could sort himself out and he could see how he got on without her doing everything for him. She was being silly, probably being petty, or at least that was what her husband would think. She rarely kicked off and so the fact she had now would mean fuck all to Jimmy.
She knew he had to go, because the bad blood between Freddie and the Blacks stopped him from being able to take any real part in the deals, but it still rankled. Freddie walked away from everything, it was what he did, the ponce. He was a fucking waster, he pulled in serious wedge yet he always had an excuse never to do any of the real collar. She wished he would just once do what he was paid for. Instead of always leaving it to her Jimmy.
Jimmy was Ozzy's right-hand man. He earned well for them and she really loved him. She tried to imagine herself with someone else and she couldn't. There had never been anyone else, never would be, and she knew that was also true for him. She felt bad suddenly, felt disloyal, and in her world loyalty was everything. Her Jimmy was a good provider, and they were young, they had plenty of other nights.
As she pulled up outside her mother's she was sorry she had not stayed behind to see him on his way. Bless him, he was a lovely man, really. The guilt was starting to eat into her thinking now, and she was calming down. She didn't really want him to go off on his own, without her even throwing him a kind word. Anger was a terrible emotion, it made you do things you knew were wrong.
She sat in her Mercedes Sport and she wept for a few minutes. She knew that Jimmy would ring her from Glasgow and she would answer his call, and then everything would be all right once more. But she couldn't let him get on the plane without making her peace with him. Supposing something happened to him?
She loved him, would always love him, and she knew that she was wrong to make him suffer like this. But she wanted a child so badly, and this was their time for making one, making a perfect, gorgeous little Jackson.
She plastered a smile on her face and, turning the car around, she raced back home as fast as she could.