The Victim. Kimberley Chambers
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watched him go and then got into his own car. There was no going back now, not now he’d called it on. Nothing would bring Lukey boy back, but as the child’s grandfather, Terry saw it as his duty to do whatever he could for Luke’s memory.
Georgie and Harry O’Hara sat silently on the sofa as their dad fondled Sally on the armchair. Neither child particularly disliked Sally – she had always been quite kind to them and given them lots of attention when Luke was alive – but today she was solely focused on their father and had barely spoken to them all afternoon. Noticing that her dad had put his hand up Sally’s short skirt, Georgie grabbed Harry’s hand.
‘Come on, let’s play in the other room,’ she said.
Thrilled to have Sally back and also desperate for a leg-over, Jed was happy to let his children do their own thing. His mum had gone to do the weekly shop, his father had driven her there, and when she got back he would leave her in charge of the kids while he took Sally upstairs for a good seeing-to. It would do them good to spend some time alone; they could have sex, then talk about Lukey boy.
‘What you doin’, Georgie?’ Harry asked, as his sister stood on a chair and removed items from the fridge.
‘Ssh,’ Georgie warned. She didn’t want her father to get wind of what she was up to.
Harry watched his sister in awe as she buttered the bread, spread some Marmite over it, then put big lumps of cheese in the middle. Georgie placed the sandwiches into her Mister Blobby lunchbox. She then placed four cans of Pepsi and four packets of crisps in a carrier bag.
‘You hold the lunchbox, I’ll carry the bag ’cause it’s heavier,’ she whispered to Harry.
Georgie put her Puffa jacket on, helped Harry into his, opened the front door and urged Harry to follow her outside. She could hear her dad making strange noises in the living room, so she left the door slightly open in case he heard it click shut.
‘Are we going for a picnic, Georgie?’ Harry asked excitedly.
Georgie held Harry’s hand and urged him to run towards the nearby fields. ‘No, we’re running away to Nanny Joycie’s house.’
Unaware that his great-grandchildren were on their way to his old abode, Stanley Smith finished the last of his rabbit stew and puffed out his cheeks.
‘Have some more,’ Pat the Pigeon ordered, as she leaped out of her seat to bring the large saucepan over.
‘Christ no, I’m that bloated I can’t even move.’
Pat smiled. She knew how to take care of a man – her mother had instilled it into her from a very early age. ‘Patricia, all you’ve got to do in life is learn to cook like an angel and act like a whore in the bedroom. If you can successfully master those two acts, no man will ever leave you – why would he?’ her mum used to insist.
‘I’ve made a rhubarb crumble, but if you’re stuffed we’ll eat that later for supper, Stanley. My Christine lent me a film the other day, reckons it’s bloody brilliant. It’s called Thelma and Louise. Have you seen it?’
Stanley shook his head. ‘Well, you go and make yourself comfortable in the living room while I wash up and then we’ll have a couple of cans of bitter to wash that dinner down and watch our film.’
Stanley grinned and did as he was told. Unlike Joycie, who had always treated and spoken to him like something untoward on the bottom of her shoe, Pat was kind, she respected him and Stanley could get very used to that indeed.
Back in bitterly cold Rainham, Harry O’Hara was shivering, tired and had just fallen over on the uneven ground and grazed his knee. ‘Can you pick me up, Georgie? My knee hurts,’ he asked with a tremor in his voice.
Seeing headlights approaching, Georgie pushed Harry behind a bush. The only way to Nanny Joycie’s house was via the road and because it was a country lane there was no pavement to walk on.
‘Why do you keep pushing me?’ Harry wept.
Aware that Harry’s teeth were chattering, Georgie gave him a hug. She opened her Mr Blobby lunchbox, gave Harry a sandwich, then handed him a can of Pepsi out of the carrier bag. It was dark now, pitch black, and as they nibbled on their sandwiches they could barely see what they were eating.
‘I’m sorry I pushed you, Harry, but if we don’t get out the way when a car drives along, we might get run over.’
Harry nodded tearfully. He didn’t like the dark, had always been afraid of it. ‘When will we see Nanny Joycie’s house?’ he asked.
‘Soon, but you have to walk quicker, Harry. I can’t carry you.’
They finished their sandwiches in silence, then Georgie stood up and grabbed her brother’s hand. She knew they were going the right way. Her teacher had taught her how to tell her left from her right and she knew her nan’s house was this way, because she’d spotted it from her grandad Jimmy’s truck. Georgie didn’t miss going to school at all. She hadn’t been back since her mummy had disappeared and she was pleased that she didn’t have to sit cooped up in a classroom every day. Not only that, she didn’t want to leave Harry indoors on his own. If she went to school, her brother would have no one to play with.
Feeling herself shiver, Georgie turned to her brother. ‘It’s nearly bedtime now, so we must run before Daddy finds us.’
Not wanting to be found by his daddy, Harry ignored the pain in his bruised knee and did as he was told.
Alice O’Hara had had a pleasant afternoon. Her Jimmy rarely took her out, but on the way back from Tesco, he’d suggested they have a meal in a local pub. For the first time since Marky and Lukey boy had died, Alice had laughed and smiled. She’d even drunk five pints of Guinness and it was good to forget her troubles, even if it was only for a day.
‘I wonder what the chavvies have been up to?’ Alice asked Jimmy. She was dying to get home now to have a little cuddle with her Georgie girl.
‘I dunno, but you’ll soon find out,’ Jimmy replied, as he pulled up outside their house.
‘I’ll kill that Jed, he’s left the poxy door open, the house’ll be bloody freezing,’ Alice moaned as she marched into the hallway. ‘Georgie, Harry, Nanna’s home,’ she yelled.
The silence immediately unnerved Alice and left her with her usual feeling of doom and gloom. ‘Jed, where are you?’ she screamed. He had to be here, his Shogun was outside.
Hearing his mother’s dulcet tones, Jed got out of bed, put his pants and jeans on and walked to the top of the stairs. ‘I’m up ’ere. Sally’s home, so we’ve been getting reacquainted, if you know what I mean.’
‘Are the chavvies up there with ya?’ Jimmy asked.
Jed felt the colour drain from his face. He’d got so used to his mum looking after the kids, he’d sort of forgotten she wasn’t there. He ran down the stairs like a lunatic. ‘Georgie! Harry!’ he yelled.
Alice ran back into the hallway. She’d checked all the rooms and looked out the back. ‘You stupid, selfish little bastard. The front door was open, you dinlo.’
As Alice began pummelling her son’s bare chest with her fists, Jimmy searched for his mobile. He’d forgotten it earlier when he’d gone out with Alice. ‘We’d better call the gavvers,’ he yelled.
Alice stopped hitting her son and chased her husband into the lounge. ‘No, dordie, no. If the gavvers get involved, we’ll have social services knockin’ on the door and they’ll take the chavvies away from us. We gotta find ’em ourselves.’
Fuming that after such a good day his Alice was now in floods of tears, Jimmy grabbed his youngest son around the throat. He tapped his forehead with his free hand. ‘You wanna start thinking with that rather than this,’ he said as he kneed him in the bollocks.
‘For fuck’s sake, Jimmy, fighting ain’t