he’s been …’ Stephen had reverted to using his childhood name, something he hadn’t done in many years. Robert knew that hearing Jimmy use it had prompted him to do so and it enraged him. He swung about and glared at his brother.
‘You’re not wanted here.’ Robert sent that over a shoulder at his father as he gripped Stephen’s arm and shoved him towards the pub.
‘We goin’ in fer a drink, Jim? Could do with a drink, Jim.’ The woman who’d been lurking quietly by the kerb took a pace forward. Her short, skinny body had easily been overlooked in the shadowy gloom. But now she nervously approached. Edie Greaves had need of a drink and Jimmy had promised her he knew of a place where they could go this evening and get treated handsomely for free. In fact, he’d been promising her many good things would come their way once they got to Islington. In Edie’s eyes, the only benefit so far had been in managing to abscond and leave a pile of debts behind in Kent.
Robert turned back just in time to note the change in his father’s attitude. He recognised the look gripping Jimmy’s sagging face and it turned his guts. Jimmy sorely wanted to tell the woman to shut up or, as he’d frequently done with their mother, stop her complaints with his fist. But he couldn’t because he was putting on an act for them all. The prodigal father had come to give his blessing to his son’s marriage. Like fuck! Robert knew that if this miserable, cowardly excuse for a man had come to find them it was because he wanted something very badly. The crafty bastard had probably already made it his business to find out that Stephen had nothing to offer, so Robert knew it was him he was after. Somehow, Jimmy Wild had discovered he’d done all right for himself and had come back to Islington to see what was in it for him.
‘What’s goin’ on?’ Matilda Keiver came bursting out of the pub trailing people in her wake. ‘Pam said there’s a feller being a nuisance. Want him shifted, Rob?’ The crowd behind her chortled and encouraged her playful belligerence. Everyone knew Tilly Keiver wasn’t frightened of a fight. If a bloke needed a slap, she was the one to give it to him. And he’d come off worst. Her nephews knew her reputation too, and would usually have laughed along with the others.
But they didn’t; and after a moment it penetrated Matilda’s booze-fuddled brain that something wasn’t right. She marched forward, whiskey glass in hand, squinting into the dusk to see who was causing a ruckus at her nephew’s big day. After their mum had died, and when they were just starting out fending for themselves as young teenagers, Tilly had done what she could to help Rob and Steve even though money was tight for her too as a war widow. She still treated Fran’s boys as an extension of her own family. Today she’d had the status of the groom’s mother, and the bride’s family were duly conscious of her role.
Tilly stopped and frowned at the man lounging against a wall a few feet away.
‘Hello, Tilly. Remember me?’
At the sound of his voice, she froze, open-mouthed, her whiskey hovering by her lips. A moment later the glass slipped from her nerveless fingers and shattered on the ground, spattering her shins and the hem of her best dress.
‘Jimmy?’ she gasped, and tottered a step closer, her head leading the way as though she were trying to identify a deadly reptile without getting close enough for it to strike.
‘Long time no see,’ he murmured, grinning at her. ‘Bet you missed me, ain’t yer?’
At this she bounded forward, letting fly with her fists. ‘You fuckin’ bastard! You should be dead!’ She sobbed in anguish.
Jimmy ducked easily out of the way of her assault. ‘No need fer that, Til. I’d’ve got you another drink, gel, honest!’ He hadn’t lost the knack of winding her up in a way that only she could hear and understand. ‘Still need the booze then, do yer?’ he laughed, fending her off as her clawed fingers flew at his face.
And that was all the private chat they managed after not seeing one another for almost ten years. The next moment Edie Greaves had hold of Tilly’s thick, fiery hair and was yanking back her head to slap her face. Robert landed a heavy hand on his father’s chest and shoved him so hard he was freed from Tilly’s grip and went tottering backwards until he collapsed on his backside on the pavement.
More people had come out of the pub to see what was going on. Alice Chaplin rushed to her mother’s side and a moment later her sister Bethany joined her in trying to prise the two women apart. As Edie stumbled away, breathing hard, Tilly drew back her lips in a snarl and landed a final punch on the side of her opponent’s head.
‘Come back tomorrer and have some more,’ Tilly spat at her, knuckling blood from her lips.
‘For Gawd’s sake! What’s going on?’ Alice demanded, gazing horrified at her mother’s cut mouth.
Trying not to meet her eyes, Tilly put an arm round Alice’s shoulders. ‘Let’s get back inside,’ she muttered hoarsely, shrugging off concerned guests who’d come to her aid. Catching sight of Pam’s mother, who was gawping at her with disgust, Tilly tilted up her chin and gave her such a fierce look the woman scuttled back through the Duke’s doors.
‘Little Alice … you’ve grown, ain’t yer?’
Alice looked about to see where the voice had come from. There was something horribly familiar about it, and instinctively her stomach had lurched. But her mother had hold of her arm and was forcefully steering her towards the pub. Breaking free of her mother’s grip, she turned with an unaccountable feeling of dread. It was then that she saw him. He was still sitting on the pavement, but comfortably now, as though he liked it there, with his arms clasped about his knees. ‘Did you marry the lanky git who lived next door?’ Jimmy asked. ‘Geoff Lovat, weren’t it? He were right sweet on you, as I recall …’
Alice glanced over at her husband, her eyes wild with terror, her heart drumming so fast she feared it might burst from her chest. Josh Chaplin had their daughter in his arms. Lilian was still sleeping, undisturbed by the pandemonium. He quickly handed over his precious burden to a woman close by in readiness to rush to his wife’s aid, but by the time he reached her she’d crumpled unconscious to the floor.
TWO
‘I did feel a right fool, fainting like that.’
‘All things considered, it’s lucky you didn’t have a bleedin’ heart attack,’ Tilly returned forcefully. ‘Or me, fer that matter,’ she continued in a mutter. Slanting a look at her daughter, she poured her a cup of tea then pulled out a chair opposite her at the table. A silence settled on the two women as they brooded on their own thoughts, elbows on the splintered tabletop, cups cradled in their palms.
A few days had passed since Stevie’s wedding reception had been ruined by Jimmy Wild’s reappearance in the land of the living. The party had broken up after the commotion, despite the newly wed couple’s half-hearted attempt to persuade people to jolly up and stay a while longer. The bride’s parents had been the first to leave. Mr and Mrs Plummer had scrambled to collect their coats and fled, relatives in tow. Tilly had felt like telling them that their daughter had a bun in the oven, just to wipe the contempt from their faces. But by then everyone had had enough. The festive atmosphere had vanished. The immediate family had been too preoccupied with the turbulent emotions and memories stirred up by Jimmy’s resurfacing; the guests couldn’t wait to get out and spread the gossip. Even for this neighbourhood, where calamity and drama were regular visitors, this was sensational news.
Tilly and Alice had not seen each other since that evening. Once Alice had revived from her faint, Robert had
