back in the day: Fanny Cradock.
Frankie Mitchell clapped as Calum Butler finished his rendition of Eminem’s ‘My Name Is’. She would never have believed her children could mix so well with others, but Georgie and Harry had taken a real shine to Calum and Regan. It was a joy and relief to witness their happiness and laughter for once. They always seemed so miserable at home and had never enjoyed anything she and Stuart had organized for them.
Little Vinny was sitting on the opposite sofa, and when he playfully grabbed Regan in a headlock and threatened to sing again unless his son did, Frankie found herself joining in with her children’s laughter. Sammi-Lou had described her husband as ‘a brilliant father’ who had ‘a unique way with kids’ and she’d been spot on. Little Vinny was a natural.
Eddie Mitchell wasn’t having the best of days. His daughter Rosie had sicked up all over the back of his new Range Rover earlier. Then, minutes later, some dopey tart had pulled out of a side turning and pranged into him. Now, to crown it all, he’d been summoned to Lakeside to pick up an inebriated Joycie and Queenie, who had somehow managed to get themselves into a state only two teenage girls could dream of.
‘Where’s my Vinny?’ Queenie asked again. She’d tried both her sons’ numbers for at least an hour before Joyce suggested they ring Eddie to pick them up. Even Little Vinny wasn’t answering his bloody phone.
‘Queen, grab hold of the other side of Joycie, will ya? This is embarrassing, love,’ Eddie spat as he saw yet another crowd of kids looking their way and laughing their heads off. He’d virtually had to drag the woman he would always refer to as his mother-in-law through the shopping centre like a rag doll, and he prayed no bastard recognized him. Everyone was looking and laughing, such was the state Joyce had got herself in. And Queenie was unsteady too.
‘Put your arm around me shoulder, Joycie. We’re giving all these old trollops down ’ere something to gawp at, that’s for sure,’ Queenie bellowed, much to Eddie’s horror.
After what seemed like hours but was probably only in fact twenty minutes, Eddie finally had both women belted up in the back of his Range Rover.
‘Sorry for being tipsy and having to ring you, but my Raymond’s useless, you know that, Ed? You’re a far better son to me than he is and we’re not even blood-related, are we? It was the shock of finding out Queenie’s granddaughter might be going to give birth to her grandson’s baby what made us go to the pub in the first place, weren’t it, Queen?’
‘Yep! And where is my Vinny, by the way? Bet I can guess why Michael has his phone switched off. Fornicating with that Italian slapper, I dare say. More fool him, eh, Eddie? I bet you wouldn’t go back with a woman who’d had your brother’s dingle-dangle up her, would you? Makes me feel sick.’
‘Dingle-dangle! I love that bloody word. Used to call my Stanley’s a “tinky-winky”,’ Joycie shrieked.
Listening to his musical idol belt out a tune or two was far preferable to listening to two old-age pensioners discuss a man’s anatomy, so Eddie cranked the volume up as loud as it would go.
Queenie and Joycie knew all the words to ‘Maggie May’ and sang along quite happily.
‘Now Rod I could’ve quite easily fancied,’ Joyce shouted in Queenie’s ear.
Queenie ignored Joycie and instead tapped Eddie on the shoulder. Ed turned the music down and before Queenie could ask him the same question again, told her, ‘Vinny’s fine. I saw him earlier. But as I’ve already told you, I have no idea what his plans are for this evening.’
‘Yes, you do. I might be knocking on a bit, but I haven’t lost my marbles yet. My Vinny’s got a bird on the firm, can tell by the shady way he’s been acting recently. Nobody knows him better than his mother. So what’s she like then? Come on, spill the beans, Mr Mitchell.’
Georgie O’Hara was most impressed. After much persuasion from his father, Regan had finally agreed to sing and he had a superb voice. Georgie had heard many a travelling lad croon an Elvis tune, including her own boyfriend, but Regan’s version of ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight’ was truly captivating. That was Nanny Alice’s favourite Elvis song too.
Harry leaned towards his sister. ‘Put your tongue away. Flies might breed on it.’
Georgie punched her brother hard. Harry had been acting up today and was now grating on her immensely. ‘You sure you’re not a gay boy like Joey? Only you seem very obsessed with Regan yourself.’
Homosexuality was extremely frowned upon among travellers and when Harry lost his rag, like she knew he would, Georgie slapped him around the head before following her mother into the kitchen. ‘What’s a matter? You’re crying.’
Fiercely wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Frankie smiled. ‘Take no notice of me. Just having a weak moment. Been a nice day, hasn’t it? I’m so pleased you and Harry have made friends.’
‘We would’ve made friends ages ago if you hadn’t locked us up. And we love music. We used to sing regularly back home. Travellers don’t watch TV all the time like gorgers do. We sing and play music lots.’
Frankie knew the travelling way of life as well as anybody. Jed had loved to sing, and it was the norm that when families got together, everybody including the children would be urged to belt out a tune. ‘How about I ask your granddad to buy you one of those karaoke machines? You and Harry can have it in your bedroom and play with it whenever you want.’
Exasperated, Georgie snatched her hands away. ‘We’re not five! We don’t play with things. And how would you play with a karaoke machine anyway? You can’t! You sing along with the music. We don’t want one in our bedroom either. Other people need to join in to make it any fun and we live in the middle of nowhere with no friends.’
When her daughter stomped out the kitchen, Frankie topped up her wine glass. Then the tears came. Joey had told her last night that he needed to move back home next week and she had no idea how she would cope alone. Georgie was right: their house was in the middle of nowhere, but her dad had chosen it because its remoteness would make it more difficult for the children to escape. Now, however, it held far too many memories of Stuart and it was too big and cold. She realized she’d come to loathe the place with a passion.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ Little Vinny asked.
‘Everything. I can’t do wrong from right when it comes to my children, and I do try my best. Joey’s moving back home next week and I’m never gonna cope. Georgie and Harry hate it where we live and so do I. My youngest son doesn’t even want to come home, he’d rather live at my dad’s. And I keep expecting Stuart to walk in all the time. I even imagined I heard his footsteps the other day, coming up to bed.’
‘Perhaps you should think about moving. You’re only renting, aren’t you?’
Frankie nodded. ‘My dad’s paying the rent and he’s shelling out for those security blokes. I hate seeing them all the time too. They give me the heebies. But the lease isn’t due to end until next year, and I can’t stay there that long. Between me and you, once Joey goes home, I’m afraid I might get drunk one day and do something stupid. I don’t think I would, ’cause I love my kids too much, but then I get these dark moods and I just don’t want to be in this world any more. Life is shit, Vin, it really is. We must go to a better place when we die, surely?’
‘Things will get better, Frankie. I’ve been through dark times in the past –
