The Faithless - Martina Cole [82]
The young men looked away. They knew who he was, and that was what had aroused their interest. Jonny was a name to them, he was famous. They dreamt of being him one day. The difference was that, at their age, Jonny would have challenged anyone who had spoken to him like he just had, no matter who they were.
The owner of the restaurant came over then. ‘Everything all right, gents?’
Jonny nodded. ‘Yeah, sorry, mate, feeling a bit fragile today.’
The owner smiled coldly. ‘Well, that’s understandable, ain’t it?’
Jonny’s fist, when it hit him, was so unexpected he took the full force of it. Linford was out of his chair and holding his friend back in seconds. The other diners in the restaurant were watching in fascination and terror.
Jonny knew he had done a wrong one, but he was sick of the way people were judging him; they didn’t know him, they didn’t know the half of it. This little story would be all over Silvertown by the morning and he was glad. It was about time people remembered just who they were dealing with. He was sick to death of it and, right now, anyone was fair game. He had been too nice; he should have shown his strength from the off. He had tried to play Mr Nice Guy because he had been feeling guilty. Well, that was then and this was now, and he wasn’t going to take it lying down any more.
Outside the restaurant, Jonny looked over the A13 towards the concrete jungle that was Ford Motor Works and, spitting on to the pavement, he said angrily, ‘Fucking shithole this place, can’t believe we even bother to come out this far.’
Linford opened the car doors and, once inside, said calmly, ‘Like we’ve said before, things like what you’ve done leave a nasty taste, and thumping all and sundry ain’t going to help matters, is it?’
Jonny laughed. It was his old laugh, loud and raucous. ‘Fuck them, Linford my boy. Fuck them all. Now let’s get to Bow and be done with this lot. I’ve had enough.’
‘Whatever you say, boss.’
Linford started the car and they made their way to their meeting with Derek, neither of them saying a word, both lost in their own thoughts.
Chapter Seventy
Jack Callahan was laughing to himself as Mary watched him in amazement.
‘Are you feeling the ticket, Jack? Laughing away there all on your Jack Jones.’ She was pleased to see him happy if she was honest; it was a long time since there had been any merriment in this house.
Jack looked at his wife and said seriously, ‘I have a lot to be cheerful about, my lovely, but I can’t say too much just yet. Once it’s over you’ll know soon enough.’
Mary was nonplussed at his answer, but she kept her own counsel; there were some things you were better off not knowing, and this sounded like one of those things. Jack had not been right since he had seen young Vincent earlier in the day, and whatever they had been talking about had cheered him up no end.
She smiled to herself; young Vincent was a nice boy and now she was pleased he was seeing her granddaughter. She had revised her earlier opinion of him. She had met Jack when they were teenagers and they were still together, so she wasn’t against young lovers like Cynthia was.
She pushed thoughts of Cynthia out of her mind; she was done with her and she didn’t want her taking up any more of her time or her life. It was the shame that was the hardest to bear, although the fact that people knew she had outed her daughter permanently had helped them get over that. But it was the effect this had had on her grandchildren that really rankled. James Junior was still locked up in a secure unit. She didn’t even know what that meant until Miss Bellamy had told her, and the shock had really knocked her for six. But it was the best place for him. He wasn’t right that child; to do what he had done was not natural.
Still, at least Mary had heard from Gabby. She didn’t sound thrilled at her new accommodation but she didn’t sound too down about it. She was going to school at least, and she said it wasn’t that bad. Well, it wouldn’t be for very long. Miss