The Betrayer (6 page)

‘I was daydreaming. I didn’t see yer do him,’ Tommy said, as his pal flopped on the grass next to him.

‘I elbowed the cunt as I went up for a corner. I did that good a job, I think I nearly took his eye out.’

Tommy laughed. ‘Whaddya think our punishment will be this time?’

Freddie shrugged. ‘Don’t know, don’t care. We’ll be all right, Finchy knows we only do the wrong ’uns.’

At the end of the game, both Tommy and Freddie were summoned into Finchy’s office.

‘Look lads, I won’t go to the guv’nor, but that’s the second week in a row two lads have received medical treatment on your behalf. I have to punish you, so it’s no TV for either of you for a week, starting from tonight. Now go and get showered, then back to your cells, both of you.’

Tommy and Freddie were in high spirits as they got showered and changed. Their punishment was a piece of piss. Freddie’s cell was right next door to Tommy’s, and they’d learnt how to communicate by tapping on the wall. They had their own code and were able to have some basic conversations.

‘Right, I’ll see yer at dinner,’ Freddie said, as they reached their cells.

‘What we gonna do if we can’t watch telly?’ Tommy asked.

‘We can have a nice little chat. We need to talk and plan our future.’

Tommy shook his head. ‘We’re gonna be locked up for years. What’s the fuckin’ point?’

Freddie grabbed Tommy by the shoulders. ‘Look at me, Tom. We might be boys now, but when we get out we’ll be men. We have to be ready for it.’

Tommy smiled. As usual, his pal was right.

SIX

Ethel Hutton stood outside the hardware store in Dagenham Heathway and eyed the contents suspiciously. A stout woman, Ethel had an old-fashioned dress sense, grey curly hair, and due to her bloody hard life, looked far older than her fifty-six years.

Ethel had been thieving for years – case of bloody having to. She never chored locally. A, she’d never take from her own, and B, she was far too well known in the East End even to attempt it.

Dragging her shopping trolley behind her, Ethel entered the store. Tools always sold well and she needed to have a good day today. Her Maureen was taking James to visit Tommy and she’d promised to give them the train fare.

There were a few people standing at the counter and the man who was serving was far too busy to be noticing her. Filling her trolley with anything expensive and saleable, Ethel was just about to exit the store when she heard shouting.

‘Oi, stop, thief!’

Unaware that a second member of staff, posing as a customer, had been watching her, Ethel had no other choice than to leave her trolley and leg it. Running up Heathway Hill, she didn’t see the dodgy paving stone. Seconds later, Ethel was lying face down on the ground, writhing with pain.

‘Gertcha, cowson,’ she said to the shop worker, as she clutched her ankle.

The police arrived within minutes.

James pushed the pouffe towards the window. It was heavy, but he could just about manage to move it without any help. Standing on top of it, he pressed his face against the glass. The old woman who used to live next door had recently died and now there were new neighbours moving in. James was hoping there’d be a boy his age for him to play with.

‘Your sore throat seems miraculously better. Don’t be so bleeding nosy, come away from that window,’ Maureen ordered, as she handed him a tray with his egg and chips.

He’d jibbed off school earlier, saying he was ill, and she was sure he was playing a fast one.

James smiled as he dipped his bread in the yolk. ‘Do you think there’ll be some boys I can play with, Mummy?’

Maureen shook her head. ‘Afraid not son. I spoke to ’em earlier. They’ve got a little girl, same age as you.’

‘Aw, I wanted a boy to play with. I don’t like girls.’

Maureen ruffled his head. ‘You will do when you’re older. At least I hope you will.’

Hearing his favourite programme about to start, James forgot about the neighbours and concentrated on
Mr Benn
. The man in the bowler hat was a legend and today he was a cowboy.

Leaving him to watch his hero, Maureen smiled and left the room.

Ethel avoided arrest by lying and pretending to have a broken ankle. She seemed truthful and in so much agony that the police called an ambulance and decided not to prosecute her. She’d told them it was a one-off. ‘I swear, I’ve never nicked anything in me life,’ she insisted. ‘I only did it ’cause me poor daughter-in-law needed the money for train tickets to visit me grandson.’

‘Where’s your grandson living, then?’ one of the officers asked.

‘Norfolk. He’s retarded and they’ve put him in one of them homes – you know, a funny farm.’

The two officers had a quick chat among themselves. They’d retrieved the shopping trolley, the store had its goods back, so there was no harm done.

‘Poor old cow,’ the young copper said to the older one.

After hearing that she was being let off, Ethel waved at the two Old Bill from the back of the ambulance. As soon as the doors were shut, she cackled with laughter and did a wanker sign at them.

Arriving at the hospital, Ethel gave the doctors a false name. She refused to go into a cubicle, saying that her leg now felt better and she’d rather sit in the waiting room in a wheelchair.

‘I’m claustrophobic. I’ll wait ’ere for me x-ray,’ she lied.

As soon as the coast was clear, Ethel half ran and half hobbled out the door. She didn’t have a clue where she was or how to get home. Asking a passer-by, she learned that she was in Romford.

‘Romford. Fucking Romford,’ she muttered as she trudged towards a bus stop.

After a lot of wrong directions, Ethel finally got a 103 back to Dagenham East station. She knew her way home from there. The district line took her straight through to Stepney Green.

As she sat on the train, Ethel wondered how she was going to tell Maureen that she didn’t have the money for the train tickets. The poor cow had booked the visit and was going up there in less than forty-eight hours. With her shopping trolley confiscated, there was no way that Ethel could get the cash before then. Not only that, having a near escape and falling arse over tit had slightly unnerved her. She’d have to give it at least a week before she felt confident enough to go out on the rob again.

Maureen was sitting on the carpet, playing dominoes with James, when Ethel let herself in.

‘What a bleedin’ day I’ve had. Nearly got arrested, and I’ve been stuck at a fuckin’ hospital in the middle of nowhere.’

James listened to his nan’s antics with interest. He had never forgiven the police force for arresting Tommy.

‘You should have hit them, Nanny, and kicked them.’

‘Stay here and watch telly, James,’ Maureen ordered, as she shoved Ethel towards the kitchen. She’d had one son go off the rails and was now determined to keep the other wrapped in cotton wool.

Hearing her trip to Feltham was now in serious jeopardy, Maureen put her head in her hands.

‘What am I gonna tell the boys? I spoke to Tommy yesterday, he sounds so much brighter. As for James, his heart’s gonna be broken.’

Ethel stood up. ‘I’ll tell yer what we’re gonna do. Get yer coat, and we’ll go and find that no-good bastard son of mine. He never gives you a fuckin’ penny, yet he’s always got money to spend in the pub.’

Maureen hated her husband and despised asking him for anything. Tonight was different though. She was that desperate, she’d have gladly asked Jack the Ripper to fund her journey, if it meant she could get to see her son.

‘Put your parka on over your jamas, James. Quickly put your shoes on, we’re going to see Daddy.’

Usually, Maureen would rather go without food for a week than have herself or her family walking the streets looking like tramps, but this was an emergency. Anywhere else in the world they might have looked a funny sight traipsing down the road. Ethel’s back and ankle were playing up and she was walking like Quasimodo. Maureen had her curlers in and James looked like an orphan in his pyjamas, navy anorak and scuffed black shoes, but no one took a blind bit of notice of them as they headed towards the pub. The East End had a culture of its own.

Tommy senior was an easy chap to find. If he was skint, he was at his bedsit in Whitechapel. If he had money, he was either in the Horn of Plenty, or the nearest betting shop. Today, Tommy had had one of his better days. He’d won a score this morning on traps one and six. Now he had his arm around Shaking Sheila, and was in the process of worming his way back to hers for a quick leg-over.

Sheila had been a real beauty in her heyday. That was before the alcohol had ravaged her face and body. She now woke up like she had St Vitus’s dance every morning and it took her at least six drinks to stop the shakes, hence the nickname.

Tommy wasn’t in the habit of being fussy. She had big tits, and he wasn’t exactly Warren Beatty himself. Buying another round, he decided to go in for the kill. Grabbing her arse, he stuck his tongue straight down the back of her throat. Paralytic and virtually unable to stand, Sheila grabbed him and responded as if her life depended on it.

Ethel spotted her son immediately. ‘There he is with some dirty stinking whore,’ she said, as she dragged his family towards him.

Maureen didn’t give a shit that he was mauling some rough old bird. He repelled her and as long as he never laid another finger on her, he could maul whoever he wanted.

Seeing his mum approach, Tommy withdrew his tongue from Shaking Sheila’s throat.

‘Whassa matter?’ he slurred.

Ethel held open the palm of one hand and pointed at Maureen and James with the other. ‘Your wife and son need money to go and visit your Tommy in Feltham. I’ve tried to help ’em, but I can’t this time.’

Tommy shrugged his slouched shoulders. ‘Whaddya want me to do? I ain’t got no money.’

Squinting through one eye, Sheila suddenly realised that the cute little boy must be Tommy’s son.

‘Is that your daddy?’ she slurred.

Frightened of the woman with the big boobies, James nodded and quickly moved away from her.

When sober, Sheila hated children. They were a bloody nuisance. When drunk, she loved every hair on their little heads.

Ethel made Tommy empty the pockets of his dirty trousers. ‘One pound, ten pence. Is that all you’ve got? You might be my son, but you make me fucking sick, Tommy Hutton. Pissed up in ’ere, day in, day out, and not a penny towards your family’s upkeep.’

‘Issall gone,’ Tommy slurred.

Sick of the mad woman who kept pestering him, James moved to the other side of the pub and sat at a table. Sheila, who was desperate to get away from the family argument, decided to play chase with him.

‘Where you gone, little boy?’ she shouted, as she staggered his way.

Seeing her lunge towards him, James leaped off the chair and ran back towards his mum. Hearing a commotion, he looked behind him just in time to see Sheila fall into the table and land flat on her back.

‘Can we go now, Mummy?’ he said, tugging Maureen’s arm. His dad hadn’t even spoken to him and he didn’t want the mad woman to chase him again.

Having kept her trap shut until now, Maureen looked at the one pound ten pence in her hand and felt her blood boil. Slipping James the coin, she ripped the pound note up in shreds, dropped it in Tommy’s pint and then promptly poured the contents over his drunken head.

‘You fucking arsehole,’ she said viciously. ‘Come on, we’re going.’

Grabbing Ethel with one hand and dragging James by the other, she marched out of the pub, head held high.

An hour later, back home with a brandy in her hand, it was Ethel who started laughing first.

‘Did you see his face when you poured the beer over his head? I didn’t know if he was gonna cry or lick it up off the bar.’

Maureen knocked back the contents of her glass and forced a smile. She was still worried about the visit, but had an idea. It was the last resort, really. Maureen didn’t have a phone indoors, but Ethel had one and allowed her to use it if she needed to.

‘Mum, do you think Kenny would lend us the money for the train fare? I can pay him back within a month.’

‘Course he would,’ Ethel said immediately.

Unlike Tommy, her youngest boy was extremely wealthy and a credit to her. He and his wife Wendy had no children, but Kenny loved kids, and Ethel was positive he’d be only too pleased to help his family out. He wouldn’t see Tommy have no visitors, that was for sure.

‘I’m surprised I never thought of Kenny. Run over to mine and ring him,’ Ethel insisted.

‘No. I don’t like to,’ Maureen said sharply. ‘You do it, Mum. Ask him for me.’

‘You’re a funny girl, Maureen. He don’t bleedin’ bite, yer know,’ Ethel said, as she picked up her bag.

Five minutes later, Ethel was back with good news. ‘You ain’t even gotta get a train, Maur. He’s driving yer down there in his new car. He said he’ll probably bring Wendy for the ride. He also said that he’s gonna get you a phone installed, he said you should have one now so that Tommy can ring yer.’

Maureen was horrified. She always felt inadequate around Kenny and Wendy. Their lives were so different from hers and she felt extremely uncomfortable in their company.

‘I don’t wanna go in the car. I’d much rather go by train.’

Ethel poured them both another brandy. ‘Don’t be so bleedin’ stupid. You’ll enjoy going by car, and James’ll love it.’

Hearing his name mentioned, James wandered into the kitchen. Ethel grabbed him and sat him on her lap. ‘Uncle Kenny’s gonna take you to see your bruvver in his brand new car.’

James bounced up and down excitedly. He loved cars, they were his obsession. ‘What car has uncle Kenny got?’

Ethel lifted him off her knee. Her bloody ankle was playing up again. ‘He’s got a Jaguar.’