The Victim. Kimberley Chambers

you thinking of Luke?’ Harry whispered.

      Georgie shook her head. ‘I was thinking of Mummy.’

      ‘Can we go see her, Georgie?’

      Georgie didn’t answer immediately. Nanny Alice had told her that her mum was in prison because she’d tried to kill her dad, but Georgie didn’t believe it. Her mum would never do something like that, she was too nice. Hearing movement on the landing outside, Georgie turned to her brother, so her mouth was next to his ear.

      ‘If I tell you something, you won’t tell anyone, will you, Harry?’

      ‘Promise, Georgie.’

      Ever since Georgie first learned to walk, she’d had a habit of running away and exploring. Once, when her uncle Joey had taken her to a pub, she’d hidden in the woods, climbed up a tree and watched the police search for her. She loved an adventure; it was part of her nature.

      ‘You know yesterday when Grandad drove us home?’

      Harry nodded.

      ‘I think I saw Nanny Joycie’s and Grandad Stanley’s house. It wasn’t far from here, so maybe we can run away and they can take us to see Mummy.’

      For the first time in weeks Harry’s eyes lit up. He liked Nanny Joyce and Grandad Stanley and, most importantly, they always gave him cuddles. ‘Can we go there now?’ he whispered.

      About to reply, Georgie was stopped in her tracks by the bedroom door opening.

      ‘Up you get, yous two. Come on, now. Nanny Alice is gonna do us all a nice big fry-up. Bath first, then breakfast after.’

      When her nan turned her back, Georgie put her forefinger to her lips to warn Harry to keep schtum. She then held his hand and led him out of the bedroom.

      Jimmy and Jed O’Hara had got up at the crack of dawn and gone over to the fields to check on the horses. It had been cousin Sammy’s job to feed them and keep an eye on them while Jimmy and Jed were away, but by the looks of the stallion lying on the grass, he hadn’t done a very good job.

      Neither Jimmy nor Jed could be described as animal lovers. Jimmy owned a goat that he rather liked, but he’d sold all the dogs now, and the horses were just a way of making money.

      Jed knelt down and looked into the stallion’s eyes. ‘He don’t look good, Dad. I think you’d better ring a vet.’

      ‘Nah, he’s had it, boy. It’ll be cheaper to shoot him meself,’ Jimmy replied.

      As they headed off to get the gun they kept hidden nearby, the conversation turned to Alice.

      ‘She seems much brighter now, Jed. Did her the world of good spending time with Tina and the kids.’

      Jed agreed. Tina was his brother Marky’s wife. The last month had been awful for all of them, none more so than himself. Marky had been murdered, then Jed’s son Luke had been shot by mistake. The bullets had been meant for Jed, and Lukey boy had died in Jed’s arms. Jed had thought he would never smile again at the time – he wished he was dead instead of his boy – but, unlike the boy’s mother, who had literally fallen to pieces, he’d had to pick himself up and carry on. As a proud travelling lad, he had no choice other than to put on a brave face, but what had happened was eating away at him inside, like a fast-spreading cancer, and he would never be truly happy until he got revenge for his brother and Lukey boy.

      ‘What’s happening with Sally? Why don’t you invite her round for dinner, that’ll cheer your mother up no end,’ Jimmy suggested.

      Jed shrugged. Sally was Luke’s mother, and she was also pregnant with their second child. Unlike Frankie, whom his mother had despised, Sally got on like a house on fire with Alice.

      ‘Why you shrugging? You ain’t split up with her, have you?’

      ‘Nah, but I’ve barely seen her since Lukey boy died. I’ve only met up with her twice since her father came round and poked his fucking oar in. She’s still staying at his, and when I rang her earlier to tell her I was home, she came out with some cock and bull about having gut ache. I reckon her old man has told her to keep away from me.’

      ‘Or she could be telling the truth, Jed. Perhaps the girl ain’t well. How far gone is she now?’

      Jed smirked. ‘I dunno. Men don’t take much notice of dates and times, do they? She’s probably about three month, at a guess, but what with that slag Frankie being pregnant at the same time an’ all, I didn’t really listen.’

      As they reached the field again, Jimmy turned to his son and smiled. ‘I know it’s been a tough few weeks for you, boy, but you’ll get through this, I know you will. None of us will ever forget Lukey boy, he was a little diamond, a chavvie to be proud of, but you and Sally will have plenty more chavvies. Take my advice and look after that Sally – she’s a good girl, your mother likes her and you could do a lot worse.’

      Without waiting for a reply, Jimmy marched over to the stallion, put the gun to its head and dispassionately shot it.

      Eddie Mitchell was not in the best of moods. He’d drunk far too much Scotch the previous evening and even though he hadn’t felt drunk at the time, this morning it had made him feel sluggish and heavy-headed. Even a shower hadn’t made him feel any better; it had actually made him feel worse. Ed got dressed and studied himself in the mirror.

      With his six-foot frame, his couple of days’ trademark stubble and his short dark hair, which he’d recently started to wear slicked back to cover the odd strands of grey, he looked good for fifty-three and he knew it. He’d always been broad-shouldered, but when he’d been banged up for accidentally killing his wife Jessica, he’d trained a lot in prison through boredom and he’d walked out of those gates with the toned body of a thirty-year-old.

      Turning his head slightly to the right, Eddie fingered the scar down the left-hand side of his cheek. Women had always loved it – they said it made him look rugged – and men had always been jealous of it, wishing they had one to make them look as manly, but he’d always fucking hated it. It wasn’t the actual scar itself: if someone other than Jimmy O’Hara had put it there, he would have probably been quite proud of it, but the fact that his worst enemy had scarred him just reminded Eddie every day how much he hated O’Hara.

      The shrill ring of the landline interrupted Eddie’s foul mood. It was Stuart, his old cellmate from Wandsworth.

      ‘One week to go. One week to go. I’m counting down the hours, and I can’t fucking wait,’ Stu sang to the tune of ‘Here Comes the Bride’.

      Despite his own problems, Eddie had to laugh. Stu had recently been moved to an open prison and he seemed to have the use of a phone morning, noon and night.

      ‘What’s been happening, mate? How’s Gina?’ Stuart asked.

      ‘Yep, everything’s fine and Gina’s just popped to Tesco,’ Eddie lied. He wasn’t one for talking over prison phones and he hadn’t told Stu any of the recent gossip. He would tell him everything when he picked him up next week. ‘Listen, Stu, I’ve gotta shoot out, I’m running late as it is. Bell us later if you can and don’t worry, your bed’s all made up here and Gina insists you can stay as long as you like.’

      Ending the call, Ed wanted to smash the phone against the wall as the bastard rang again. ‘What?’ he screamed into the receiver.

      ‘Ed, it’s me. Are you OK?’ Gina asked.

      ‘Sorry, babe. I thought it was one of the boys.’

      ‘When can I come home, Ed? I’m pulling my hair out here through boredom.’

      ‘Soon. I’m going to sort things out right now – that’s if I ever get off this poxy phone,’ Ed said sarcastically.

      ‘Oh, sorry, go on, you get off and ring me as soon as you get things sorted. I can’t wait to see you again. I love you, Ed.’

      Eddie