Putting together a plate of food for her husband she walked over to him and saw with relief the girl take the opportunity to get away from him.
Freddie Jackson Senior took the food gratefully and then inspected the chicken leg. He took a large bite and said through the mouthful of food, 'He better get his arse in gear. I ain't hanging about all night for him.'
He didn't mean it, she knew that he was looking forward to seeing his boy. He was, after all, a mirror image of himself as a young man and who could resist that? Who could resist seeing themselves replicated in another human being? He loved his boy even while he was jealous of his youth. Freddie Senior had kept his charm, but drink and debauchery had quickly put paid to his handsome looks. Her son must have inherited one of her genes, though, because no matter what he did Freddie still looked good.
Maddie saw Jackie throw back another glass of wine in seconds and recognised the warning signs of her daughter-in-law's phenomenal temper. Jackie's face sank somehow, as if the life was draining from it, and her eyes became hooded. She looked as if she was on drugs and, knowing Jackie, she probably was.
Maddie watched the girl's mother pushing her towards the kitchen and trying to calm her down. At times like this she was sorry for Jackie, was reminded of herself as a young woman, not in looks but in the bewilderment at the treatment from a man who she adored.
A man who could not even come home to see his children, but had to spend the day with his friends as usual. Six years banged up and nothing had really changed.
The pub was packed, the music was thumping and everyone was treating Freddie to drinks. He was a Face now. He was twenty-eight years old, he had done a lump and he was also a different man to the one who had gone away all those years ago. He was regaling them with stories of people they had only ever heard about but who he assured them were his blood brothers now.
Jimmy was worried about how fast time was passing while his cousin looked like he had no intention of going home at any time. Let alone in time for his own party.
'Come on, Freddie, we got to get a move on. There's a big party at your house in your honour.' Jimmy's voice was high now, it was gone nine o'clock and he knew there would be murders. 'All the family will be there and your mum's dying to see you.'
He knew that mention of his mother would lessen Freddie's anger.
Freddie stared at the younger man for a few moments before hugging him tightly to him and kissing the top of his head. 'You are a fucking good kid, Jimmy me boy.'
Jimmy basked in his cousin's pleasure.
'You're the business, Freddie, everyone knows that.'
It was what he wanted to hear, needed to hear.
'Come on, guys, grab a few bottles, it's back home to the horror of family life for me.' Freddie squeezed a few choice behinds as they walked from the pub, pointing towards a particular girl every few seconds and smiling at them.
Jimmy saw Donny Baxter wink at him with respect, and understood for the first time ever what made his cousin enjoy his reputation so much. Little Jimmy was buzzing, but Little Jimmy was also a six-foot-two man with the want inside him now.
Freddie was home and all would be right with his world.
Maddie saw the girl making sheep's eyes at her husband once more. Time was she would have caused murders, but nowadays she was glad in some ways since it kept him from wearing her out on a nightly basis. She just wished he wouldn't chat them up in front of her, it was humiliating.
What was it that made these men so desirable?
The violence? The feeling of only being alive when you were around them? The danger of knowing they could be gone again in days, hours even?
And Freddie was the same, he was like the spit out of his father's mouth. That was another one of her mother's sayings.
As if Maddie's thoughts had conjured him up her son pulled up outside the house in a large white stretch limousine. As he fell out of the door she could hear his raucous laughter. He was drunk. Happy drunk, but drunk all the same.
Still, she consoled herself, and justified her son's abandonment of his family by thinking no one could blame him. Banged up all that time, he would need to let off steam.
Kimberley, Dianna and Roxanna watched as their father strode up the overgrown garden path and, walking straight past them without even a glance in their direction, burst into the house.
Kimberley, the eldest and therefore old enough to remember the fighting and the arguing, said little. The two younger ones had eyes rounded with excitement. The man their mother harked on about constantly had just breezed past them smelling of brandy, cigarettes and unwashed clothes.
A small retinue of friends followed him sheepishly into the house. Unlike Freddie, they were aware that they should have been here hours ago.
Jimmy's father, James, watched carefully – he, like his wife, Deirdre, had never rated Freddie, and their son's worship of him worried them.
Jackie heard her husband's booming voice and ran from the kitchen on her high heels, her face a bright red mass of anger and also excitement.
'Freddie!' She jumped into his arms and he held her off the ground with difficulty, hugging her tightly before putting her down roughly.
'Fuck me, girl, you weigh a fucking ton! But don't worry, I'll soon shag you back into shape.'
He looked around him happily, proud of his quip, thinking he was the man. After all he was the reason they were all there in the first place.
Jackie's family stared at him in disbelief as Jackie herself beamed with positive happiness.
The King was home, so God help the Queen.
Book One
Woman, a pleasing but short-lived flower,
Too soft for business and too weak for power:
A wife in bondage, or neglected maid:
Despised, if ugly; if she's fair, betrayed.
– Mary Leapor, 1722-1746 'An Essay on Woman'
Do not adultery commit;
Advantage rarely comes of it.
– Arthur Hugh Clough, 1819-1861 'The Latest Decalogue'
Chapter One
Jackie awoke to the electric pain of a hangover, her eyes felt as if they had been sprayed with hot sand and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
In seconds she realised her husband was not beside her.
Even after only one night she was aware of him. After he had been sentenced it had taken her a long time to accept that he would not be coming home to her. Heavily pregnant, she had felt his absence acutely. It had been hard losing him like that, but she had waited. Waited and longed for him. While he was in prison all she had thought about was her man, and not a day had passed when she had not missed him and felt almost a physical pain.
But now he was out he didn't even recognise his home any more.
Sighing, she was about to drag herself from the bed when she heard the unmistakable sound of Roxanna's laugh. It was like a fog horn, loud like her mother's but full of infectious humour like her maternal grandmother's.
She could hear her husband's own loud laugh following her daughter's and smiled to herself. The girls were older now, he might find them a bit more interesting. He had never really got to know them before, and she hoped that now he was finally home they could all start being a proper family.