This would be difficult because they needed each other at this moment in time, and so although their meeting was fraught with undercurrents and hidden agendas, it would all be put aside in the pursuit of money.
But once the money started rolling in, the borders had been opened, and they had become legends in their own rights, there would still be the little matter of Joey Black and Freddie Jackson.
The clever money was on Freddie, but the outsiders were of the opinion that maybe he might be the better bet. Unlike Freddie, Joey had something to prove.
'Are you sure this is not going to get you a capture, Jimmy?' She asked this every time, and he smiled at her concern. She really was looking out for him and he loved her for that. 'Look, Mag, anything I undertake has a risk and we've
always known that, right? This is no different, except we will be settled at last, we will never have to do a hand's turn again unless we want to. Just relax, if I did get a lump you'd be all right.'
She smiled at him as she always did. He needed to feel she was behind him, and she wasn't. Not really and she never had been. But this was her Jimmy, and she wouldn't go against him and what he wanted to do. He thrived on his work, he was always careful, and he was always honest with her. She knew that if Freddie knew just how much he told her he would panic. But Jimmy trusted her and he had good reason to. She would never, ever do anything to harm him or their life.
'Can anyone connect you to the factories?'
It was a fair question and one he had been expecting. 'Nah, to be honest the Blacks will take care of that side of it once we have established the trade runs. Our main interest at the moment is getting the stuff out to the distributors. So stop worrying, woman, it's all under control.'
This was her cue to let it go. He had that inflection in his voice which told her he had said enough now, and wanted the subject changed. She knew him so well.
He was pouring himself a glass of cold milk, and she watched him as he glanced around the spotlessly clean kitchen. 'The girls in bed?'
She nodded.
'And that mad little fucker's gone home, I trust.'
She grinned, then remembered what her mother had said about him. She decided not to mention anything just yet.
'Did you hear the latest about him?' Jimmy asked.
Maggie shook her head and tried to look innocent. 'No, what?'
'According to Freddie, who thinks it's hilarious, the child, if he can be called that, has been dumping outside people's houses. If they try and tell him off, he drops his kecks and dumps on their doorsteps.'
Maggie shook her head sadly, 'He is out of control, Jimmy. I think he should be put away.'
Jimmy shrugged and finished his milk. 'That might be closer than anyone thinks.'
She frowned. 'What do you mean?'
'According to Freddie, the social workers want him to go to a special unit. It's for troubled kids and although he would be the youngest one there I think even Fred sees that something has got to be done.'
Maggie didn't say anything, though she hoped the boy did go away. If what she had heard was true the sooner he got professional help the better. But she also knew Jackie would never countenance it.
'Is me mum still getting her hair done tomorrow?'
Maggie yawned slightly. It had been a long day. 'She's popping over in the morning.'
Since the day they married, and Freddie Senior topped himself, Jimmy's father rarely had anything to do with his son. He never visited them, and no one ever mentioned it.
Jimmy nodded and rinsed his glass under the cold water tap. He didn't look bothered but she had a feeling he was. He would choose Freddie over anyone, except maybe her.
Though sometimes she even wondered about that.
Freddie was in bed with Stephanie. She was a good-hearted whore and he liked her. She was as thick as two short planks and her sense of humour was childish, but they had a rapport and best of all she never asked him for anything, ever.
If he turned up he turned up, if he kept away for months she never batted an eyelid in his direction. While Pat had worked out of the Ilford house he had kept away from her. Now, though, she was back on his list of things to do and she loved it.
As they lay together smoking a joint they heard the bedsprings in the next room creaking. They started to laugh.
'She don't half get some poke next door,' Stephanie said.
'In more ways than one!'
Stephanie was rolling up now, because she was so stoned and because, when Freddie was like this, he made her happy. He was being his most charming, and his most sexy. She loved the darkness of his skin, the whiteness of his teeth. He was always chewing gum or mints, so his breath was always fresh. She appreciated little things like that, in her job some of the clients' bodily hygiene left a lot to be desired.
Freddie cuddled her to him and she felt safe, safe and happy.
Then he flipped her expertly on to her tummy and, lying on top of her back, he bit her on the back of her head. As she struggled he pushed her face harder and harder into the pillow. As he entered her from behind she was grunting like an animal, and the pain in her head and thighs brought flashing lights into the blackness of the pillow. She could feel her chicken takeaway from earlier in the evening rushing into her mouth, and clogging up her nose as she tried desperately to get it out of her mouth so she could breathe.
She was choking, and the overpowering feeling of helplessness was terrifying in the extreme. She could hear him calling her names, and telling her that she was nothing, a whore, a slut. The words were merging together into one and as she lost consciousness she felt the burning of the food in her nostrils, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Little Freddie heard the front door crash open and still didn't take his eyes off the film he was watching. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was his favourite video at the moment, and the blood and gore were just starting to spurt everywhere. He saw his Uncle Jimmy flash by in his peripheral vision, and stayed watching the TV.
Freddie was asleep in bed with his third woman of the night – first Pat, then Stephanie and finally his wife. Hearing the noise he opened his eyes blearily. Jackie was still snoring beside him and the duvet had come off the bed, showing her fat body sprawled across him like a beached whale. Her breath was rank and he pushed himself away from her. Then he realised that someone was stomping up his stairs and heard Jimmy's voice swearing and shouting, and it occurred to him that something terrible had happened.
Freddie had smoked some cocaine earlier and, mixed with the brandy, it had badly affected his reaction times. It wasn't until he was dragged bodily from the bed by Jimmy that he started to wake up properly.
'What the fuck's going on!' Jackie was sitting up in the bed, clutching a pillow in front of her to hide her nakedness and watching in amazement as Jimmy started to attack Freddie.
'You fucking vicious cunt! You wanker!'
Never had Jackie seen Jimmy sound so angry nor heard him shout so loudly. What frightened her more was that Freddie was not attempting to fight back in any way. He was just lying on the floor taking it.
Jimmy was kicking him, and when he was finally spent, he looked down on Freddie. Shaking his head in obvious despair, he rubbed his eyes and face, and Jackie saw the tiredness that had come over him.
'You went too fucking far this time. She's dead, Freddie. Dead.'
Jackie heard the word dead, and her whole body went cold. The fear had hit her now. This was serious, really serious and she was terrified that she was going to lose her husband over it.
'Who's dead? What the fuck is going on here, guys?' The fear in her voice communicated itself to her husband, who seemed suddenly to come out of his stupor.
Freddie got up off the dirty floor, and as Jimmy looked around him at the squalor that was Freddie's life and the mess that was his closest relative, he felt himself fighting back the urge to cry. 'Look at the way you live, the way you exist here with this lot. You're like a pack of fucking animals in a lair. This ain't a life, Freddie, you live like fucking parasites, the lot of you.'