The Victim. Kimberley Chambers

as he searched high and low for his keys. He found them down the side of the armchair and, as he stood up, he came face to face with his father’s photograph.

      ‘I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, Dad.’

      Alice O’Hara was feeling more positive than she had in weeks. Her son and grandson being murdered had knocked her for six, but visiting Marky’s widow and his two sons had somehow helped her come to terms with her grief. Her daughter-in-law, Tina, was a tough cookie and she had given Alice a serious talking-to. Tina had made her realise that no amount of screaming, crying and self-pity were going to bring Marky or Lukey boy back and, for the sake of the rest of the family, she needed to get her act together.

      Singing along to Hank Williams’ ‘Lovesick Blues’, Alice carried two large china plates over to the kitchen table. On one there were sausages and bacon and on the other black pudding and fried bread.

      ‘Get stuck in and I’ll bring the eggs and beans over in a tick,’ she said.

      Georgie stared at the two big plates in horror. The meat was swimming in grease and she hated that black stuff and the horrible bread that her nan cooked.

      ‘Nan, can me and Harry have Rice Krispies instead?’ she asked.

      ‘Don’t start, Georgie. You need to get some meat on them bones of yours, so you eat what Nanny gives you,’ Jed shouted.

      ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Jimmy said as the doorbell rang. He hated being disturbed at mealtimes; it pissed him off big style.

      ‘You eat your breakfast, Jimmy. I’ll answer it and tell whoever it is to take a running jump,’ Alice insisted.

      With the spatula still in her hand, Alice stomped into the hallway and, as she opened the front door, very nearly had a fit. ‘Gertcha, you murdering mother’s cunt. Get off my property before I kill you,’ she screamed, as she lunged at Eddie with the greasy spatula.

      Eddie held his hands in front of his face to stop the stupid bitch from blinding him. ‘I ain’t come here to cause no trouble. I need to speak to Jimmy. I wanna make amends for what happened.’

      ‘Amends! Fucking amends! Gonna bring my Marky and Lukey back from the dead are you, you animal?’

      Hearing a commotion, Jimmy and Jed ran to the front door.

      ‘You no-good shitcunt,’ Jed yelled as he lunged at Eddie.

      As his son grabbed Mitchell around the neck, Jimmy waded in to pull Jed away from him.

      ‘Look, I’ve come here to apologise, not fight. I know nothing can make up for the stupidity of my brothers, but what happened was fuck-all to do with me. I wanna try and sort this mess out for good,’ Eddie said.

      Georgie O’Hara was brighter than most four-year-old girls and as soon as everybody had left the kitchen, she’d scraped her and Harry’s greasy breakfasts into the bin and covered the evidence with her nan’s tea-towel. Now she’d led Harry into the hallway to see what all the fuss was about.

      Because Eddie had been in prison for virtually all of his grandchildren’s lives, neither Georgie nor Harry knew him that well. Both had visited him in Wandsworth with their mum, but it was Harry who had seen him more recently than his sister, and recognised him first. Thinking that his grandad had turned up to take him and Georgie home to their mum, Harry let go of his sister’s hand and ran towards Eddie.

      ‘Grandad, can we see Mummy?’ he yelled excitedly.

      Eddie had been too busy arguing with Jed to notice the kids were there and he felt really emotional as he laid eyes on the pair of them. Georgie looked skinnier than the last time he’d seen her and Harry seemed a few inches taller.

      ‘Get away from them chavvies. They’re nothing to do with you or that whore of a daughter of yours any more!’ Alice screamed.

      ‘I want my Mummy!’ Georgie sobbed, as Alice roughly dragged her and Harry back towards the kitchen.

      ‘Grandad, can we come home with you?’ Eddie heard Harry shout just before the door was slammed. Eddie felt completely useless. He could tell the kids were unhappy – it was written all over their little faces – and he needed all his self-restraint to stop himself from putting them in his motor and taking them home with him.

      ‘You ever come near my kids again, I’ll fucking cut you to pieces,’ Jed yelled, lunging at Eddie once more.

      Jimmy grabbed his son by the hair. ‘Get in that kitchen with your mother and make sure them kids are OK.’

      ‘No! Why should I? That bastard killed my son and …’

      Grabbing Jed by the neck, Jimmy marched him into the kitchen. ‘You leave this to me and if you come back out this kitchen, I shall clump you so hard you’ll see fucking stars,’ Jimmy warned as he slammed the door and marched back to where Eddie was standing. He walked out into the cold December air, shut the front door and marched Eddie over to where the stables were.

      ‘You’ve got some fucking nerve turning up here, I’ll give you that much,’ he spat.

      Unlike Eddie, Jimmy O’Hara was no oil painting. He was six feet two, had dark, greying, wavy hair, thick lips, a beer belly and a big bulbous nose that splattered over to one side of his face. Jimmy opened the stable door, let Eddie inside and turned to him with a look of hatred.

      ‘So, what do you want?’

      Eddie was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his cool. Jed had attacked him and had ripped his Armani shirt, he hadn’t been able to speak to his own grandchildren and now he had this big, ugly prick looking at him as if he were some kind of faeces he’d trod on. Taking the advice of his probation officer, who had told him to take ten deep breaths whenever he felt as if he was about to lose his rag, Eddie spoke in the most sympathetic voice he could muster.

      ‘I came here to apologise for the deaths of your son and your grandson.’

      Jimmy gave a sarcastic chuckle. ‘Well, that’s fucking big of ya. We’ll forget all about it and be best buddies then, shall we?’

      ‘Just drop the sarcasm and hear me out will you, Jimmy? It weren’t fucking easy for me to come round ’ere today, so the least you can do is listen to what I’ve got to say. If you don’t, then I’ll walk away now and we all know what will happen next, don’t we? You’ll shoot a couple of my family and then I’ll shoot a couple of yours. And so it goes on Jimmy, like it always bastard well has done, until we’re all laying six feet under.’

      ‘Go on then, talk, I’m all ears,’ Jimmy spat.

      ‘I’ve come here today not only to apologise, but also to offer you a deal. You know as well as I do that I had sod-all to do with what happened. I’ve had sweet fuck-all to do with my brothers for years – they might be my flesh and blood, but they’re mugs, the pair of ’em. I ain’t stupid; I know you’re gonna want revenge and so would I if I’d gone through the same as you had. So I’m gonna give you permission to go ahead, do what you’ve gotta do with Paulie and Ronny and when you do, I promise they’ll be no repercussions from me or my family.’

      ‘I think you’ve forgotten something, Mitchell. Your cunting brothers happen to be in Belmarsh with a lot of your old pals and I know for a fact that you’ll say one thing to me, then have their backs watched for ever more. Don’t insult me, by treating me like some dinlo, please.’

      ‘I promise you, Jimmy, I won’t get involved. My brothers fucked up big time and now they have to pay the price. I’ll keep out of it, I swear I will.’

      Jimmy was thinking of the bigger picture. He would never truly rest until all of the Mitchells were dead, especially Eddie, but if he agreed to this deal now, it would give him plenty of time to plan the rest of their executions properly. Neither Eddie nor his sons were any man’s fools, and Jimmy wanted that fucking Raymond dead as well. Doing life in prison didn’t appeal to Jimmy one little bit and if Alice ever lost her beloved Georgie girl over his rash actions, she