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 gonna find ’em. Let’s go search for ’em,’ Alice cried.
The house had automatic lights at the front and back, but Jimmy grabbed a couple of torches. Georgie was four and Harry was only three, so they couldn’t have got far.
‘You don’t think the Mitchells have snatched ’em do you?’ Jed asked, still holding his private parts.
‘No chance, with Frankie still inside. It’s more than they dare do,’ Jimmy replied confidently.
‘What’s going on?’ Sally asked, as she appeared at the top of the stairs.
Jed ignored her and pushed his parents out of the front door. He felt tearful now and sick with fear. He’d already lost one child and losing his other two didn’t bear thinking about.
Stanley sat open-mouthed as Thelma and Louise prepared to drive off the cliff. It wasn’t the film that was causing his state of shock, it was because Pat the Pigeon had just laid her head on his shoulder and put an arm across his belly.
Even as a lad, Stanley had been no lothario. Women had never liked him, full stop, and apart from the rare fumble with Joycie, he’d had fewer sexual encounters than a monk.
Willing Thelma and Louise to get on with it and drive off the bastard cliff, Stanley was relieved when they did so and as the credits rolled, he immediately faked a yawn and stood up. ‘Oh well, that’s me done for the night. Them bitters have knocked me out.’
‘What about your rhubarb crumble?’ Pat asked, sitting up straight.
‘I’m still bloated from that stew, love. Is it OK if we eat it tomorrow?’
Pat the Pigeon was a five-foot-two, voluptuous and big-breasted blonde. She was in her mid-fifties, but still had a lovely complexion and an extremely pretty face. With her hearty laugh and sexy smile, men had always fallen at her feet and even when she’d been married to Vic, she’d had to fight off unwelcome advances from her army of admirers. Stanley was a different kettle of fish and as desperate as Pat was to get him into bed, she knew she had to play the waiting game.
‘Slowly, slowly catchee monkey,’ her wise old mum used to say.
‘Yes, of course it’s OK to eat it tomorrow, Stanley. You get off to that nice comfortable bed in the spare room and I’ll see you in the morning, lovey.’
Desperate for his nan not to go off her head or get drunk and smash the house up like she did the last time when his grandad left home, Joey had offered to stay the night with her. Dominic, being the best partner a man could wish for, had just arrived with a big bag of fish and chips for them all.
Pleased that his nan was tucking in, Joey offered her another pickled onion.
‘I bet that’s the old bastard. He’s probably too frightened to use his key,’ Joyce said as the doorbell rang.
Positive it couldn’t be his grandad, as they hadn’t heard his car pull up, Joey put his plate down and stood up. He opened the door and could barely believe his eyes. Georgie was standing on a plant pot, which she’d used to reach the doorbell, and Harry was standing next to the pot, shivering and crying.
‘Oh my God. Get inside, you’re both freezing,’ Joey urged his niece and nephew.
When the children walked into the room, Joyce dropped her dinner on the floor in shock and burst into tears. ‘Oh, my little darlings,’ she said, as she knelt down and hugged them both.
Dominic looked at Joey in astonishment. ‘How did they get here? Did Jed drop them off?’
Joey knelt down, it had been raining for the past half an hour, so he took the children’s coats off and ordered them to sit next to the fire. Harry was still sobbing and, overcome by emotion, he clung to his Nanny Joyce. Her cuddles reminded him of his mummy.
Joey knelt down and held Georgie in his arms. ‘Who brought you here?’ he asked her.
‘No one. We ran away.’
As Georgie then burst into tears as well, Joey turned to Dominic. ‘What are we gonna do?’
Dominic knelt down next to Joey. ‘This is important, Georgie. Why did you run away? You must tell us what happened.’
‘Because we wanted to see our mummy,’ Georgie cried.
Joyce was the next to break down in tears. ‘How did you find Nanny’s house?’ she wept.
‘’Cause I saw it when I was in Grandad Jimmy’s truck.’
‘Where is Mummy? Don’t wanna live with Daddy no more,’ Harry exclaimed, hiccupping.
Joyce
