They laid the man in the boot of the taxi they had purloined. He stared up at them with a half smile and milky white eyes
Slamming the boot shut, Freddie smiled. 'I'll deal with this. You get yourself home and ready for the last walk. The condemned man, that's what you are today.'
Jimmy shrugged. 'No I ain't.'
He was serious and Freddie watched the boy's anger as it rose to the surface.
'I have the best little bird in the world, she is good and kind and decent. She would stand by me through anything and she is a little grafter.'
''Course she is, mate.'
It was said as if he had never heard such tripe in his life, and as he walked round to the driver's seat, Jimmy followed him and grabbed his arm.
As he pulled Freddie round towards him, he said quietly, but with enough menace to start a real argument, 'Don't mug her off, Freddie, she is everything to me. No one will ever take her place. She is my life, she is everything good that I have, and no one will ever talk about her without respect.'
It was a threat, it was a starting point for war. It was the most truthful thing he had ever said.
Freddie took a deep breath. Looking into Jimmy's eyes he saw real love, and it wasn't just for Maggie, it was for him. Jimmy was asking him not to ever make a crack about Maggie when she was his wife. He was asking him to afford her respect in every way possible, he was asking him to remember they were blood brothers, that they had ties that went beyond everything they had ever known.
Freddie was in a quandary. He knew that this was tantamount to mutiny, but he also understood where Jimmy was coming from. He loved the little whore, and she was a whore. He only had to sit it out and wait for her to blot her copybook, because she would. They all did in the end.
So he smiled and said gently, 'It was a joke, mate. You've got a little fucking blinder there. Ease up, boy, it's your fucking wedding day.'
Jimmy watched the way Freddie avoided his eyes, and in that moment he saw him properly for the first time in years. Really saw him. From his gold snide Rolex to his diamond signet ring. He saw the ragged nails on his hands and the stubble on his chin. The rough silk suit, and his hand-made shoes. Even with all the money he was earning he still looked dilapidated, he looked seedy and worst of all, he looked what he was.
A cheap hood.
They were a lot of things, but cheap hoods should not be one of them. They were the best you were going to get in their world and Jimmy had made a conscious effort to reflect that in his manners and his dress. Freddie, as always, just expected everything to come to him because of his attitude and his fearsome reputation. The drugs and the loans were just coming into their own. People who had never had the money before now wanted recreational puff, or cocaine. Speed was for the cheapos, the Giro generation. The new designer drugs were for the new generation of people who worked hard and played hard.
This new world was going to give Jimmy everything he had ever dreamed of or wanted, and he knew at that moment that this man, the man he loved more than any other, would always be his Achilles heel.
Their world was changing and they had to change with it.
Freddie was what Ozzy called a romancer, and Jimmy finally understood what that meant. He suddenly felt depressed, but he drove back to his mother's house and forced himself to get into the enjoyment of what was to be his wedding day.
Jackie was dressed in a blue Ossie Clark trouser suit that had walked out of Maison Riche in Ilford High Street hidden underneath a sheepskin coat, and had then made its way to her house at half the asking price. It had bell-bottom trousers and was hand-stitched. In baby-blue crepe, it was cut for a woman with large breasts and Jackie's spilled over the neckline and made her look sexier than she had in years.
The kids all looked lovely, dressed like little angels in their bridesmaid dresses, and Freddie was nowhere to be seen.
Jackie had already drunk a bottle of wine and it was only eleven o'clock in the morning. The car was picking them up in an hour and she was sorry now that she was so early for once. Normally she'd be late for everything, including her own wedding.
Baby Freddie was gurgling away and little Rox was helping hold his bottle of tea for him even though he was more than capable of holding it himself. He loved tea and Maggie, being the fussy bitch she was, had dropped off a new bottle the day before, one that didn't have tea stains inside it. Jackie smiled as she opened another bottle of cheap German wine. Wait until marvellous Maggie had a few fucking ankle biters, see how she got on then!
At the moment she was like all new brides, dreaming of her lovely home and her perfect kids. Well, she had news for her – they all dreamed of that. Reality unfortunately made you see the error of your ways. Marriage was like war, and if you were lucky you managed to win a few battles.
She had watched her sister the last few months, with her wedding lists and her swatches, and now she looked at the girls in their peach-coloured bridesmaid dresses and stifled the urge to laugh once more. Madame Modèle had been there at eight that morning and put all their hair up, and she had then decorated the French pleats with little peach-coloured flowers.
Jackie's own hair looked stunning and she was grateful for the woman's light touch.
She could not help feeling jealous because this was so different to her wedding. That had been a quick marriage when she had been five months pregnant because Freddie had not been sure it was what he wanted to do.
The humiliation still stung.
It was only the way Freddie had ridiculed all these arrangements that had made her feel better about it all. He had taken the piss from day one, and then when Maggie and Jimmy had bought the house he had slaughtered them.
Deep inside, however, she knew that it was not funny, in fact it was wonderful what they had achieved, considering their ages. But even though she knew that, her natural antagonism and feeling of inferiority stopped her enjoying what they had achieved with them. Her sister had eaten, shat and slept this wedding, and she had not even tried to help her, not really. She had taken her cue from Freddie as always, and even the bridesmaid dresses had only come about because the woman who was making them lived locally and had been happy to come to her house.
She was drunk now and she knew it. The world was suddenly taking on a rosy glow and the kids were looking at her with that look they had but she was determined that no one was going to piss on her firework today.
Freddie still wasn't home when they got into the wedding car and left for the church.
Joseph walked up the aisle of the Holy Trinity Church in Ilford and felt so proud he wanted to burst.
Jimmy was watching from the front pew and he could see the worried expression on his face. It was only then that he realised they had no best man.
Freddie was nowhere to be seen.
He felt Maggie tense beside him and automatically slowed down. The wedding march was playing and the rest of their family and friends were there. No one, not even Freddie Jackson, was going to ruin this day.
As they approached the altar he heard the sighs of the women. They were all remarking, he was sure, on how beautiful his daughter looked.
And she was beautiful. She was stunning and she was his heart.
He could hear Lena crying and smiled to himself. Bless her, at least this time she was crying for the right reasons. Last time she had been crying because she had known her elder daughter was about to make the biggest mistake of her life. That had been proved time and time again. Where was her prick of a husband, anyway? He should have been here by now. Since the boy had been born he had been a bit better. At least he came home more often than he ever had before.