Lil had developed enough of a body to attract any red-blooded male but he had not thought back then that she would have known how to use it and keep a man interested in her for as long as she had. Four kids and one on the way and Brodie still acted like she was his first girlfriend.
'Are you listening to me?'
Mick Diamond was brought back to the present by his wife's strident voice.
'Course I am!'
'Well, what do you think then? I heard that Dennis Williams was on the warpath again. He is a nutter, him.'
Mick nodded. 'True, Annie, very true.'
He watched her as she cooked him bacon and eggs. She was a good old stick was Annie, really. She was just a miserable bitch and he knew he had contributed to that over the years.
'How is Lil anyway?' Mick asked about her because he could not think of any other topic of conversation and he knew Annie was after a chat
Annie smiled. A rare smile that made the years drop from her and softened her face so that she looked almost beautiful.
'She ain't a bad girl really, Mick. There's plenty worse than my Lil.'
Mick was so flabbergasted at her words that he forgot to swallow and nearly choked himself in the process. As he coughed like a TB patient, Annie slapped his back for him and he was saved from saying anything that would have alerted his wife to the shock and absolute amazement her words had caused him.
Annie, though, was more than aware of the effect her words had had on her husband and she finished off the breakfast in silence.
She wasn't going to enlighten Mick about why she had changed her opinion of her daughter because he would only use it against her in some way. But the fact that Lil could still find it in her heart to make sure that her mother was solvent as she approached old age, despite her upbringing, had really affected her.
To know that someone cared about you was a new and wonderful feeling for Annie.
As Mick had battered her down and broken her spirit within months of their marriage, she had done the same thing to poor Lil, blaming her for the abortion that her own life had become.
Lance made up for a lot with her; she had seen that boy born and felt, for the first time in her life, what love could be. She had experienced the selfless love that a mother should feel for her children, though she had never felt it towards her own daughter.
When Lil had called her into the kitchen the day before and handed her the paperwork to her little flat, she had been speechless. Even more so because she knew that Lil would have had her work cut out convincing Patrick Brodie to give her a penny sweet, let alone the roof over her loaf of bread.
Lil had explained that it was in her name but that the solicitor had written up a contract that stated it was Annie's until her death and only then would it revert back to her daughter. This, she knew, was so that Mick Diamond didn't get a look in and she could understand that. He was capable of bumping her off if he thought he would get his mitts on a few quid.
When Annie arrived home she looked around her. For the first time in her life, she was secure, really secure, and she wondered at how lucky she was that her only child had her best interests at heart, despite everything. She had made herself a stiff drink and then she had found herself being bombarded with memories of every little thing she had done, or, if she was honest and more to the point, not done, for her daughter.
It was only now that she was finally understanding what other women had taken for granted. All you really had in the end was your kids. Rich, poor, beggar or king, the children you had were the only people who cared about you in the end.
The knowledge that she was set up for the rest of her life had also given Annie a confidence that she would never have thought she could possess.
Whatever else Annie might have thought about her daughter, she would always appreciate what she had done for her. Even more so because she had done it without any kind of fanfare whatsoever.
Mick Diamond watched the changing expressions on his wife's face and knew from long experience that something of moment had occurred. What that might be, he had no idea. He would have to bide his time and ferret it out of her gradually. He was a patient man, he could wait.
Whatever it was, it had to do with money. That was the only thing that brought a smile to this woman's face. Other than Lance, of course, but he didn't count.
Chapter Eleven
'No, fuck off. You are having a tin bath, I hope?'
Trevor didn't laugh as he didn't think it was actually expected of him. Pat Brodie's voice was high enough not just to sound surprised, but to also convey major disbelief.
'How much did they skank then?' Patrick was trying to keep his breathing normal and not let his anger get the better of him. When he was like this he was capable of anything and he needed to hear everything that had occurred so he would not go off half-cocked.
'Over a hundred grand and, have a guess what, I had to go and get the money for them. They knew I pay out quick and that is what they were banking on. I had to hand over my hard-earned poke to those fucking eejits without being able to say anything. If I had argued, they would have graved me without a second's thought.'
The fear was still in Trevor's voice and Patrick knew that he was obviously still feeling the terror that only that kind of threat could bring. Death threats were bad enough but when you knew it was not just a threat but a real possibility, it could really fuck up your day. Especially when you also had to undergo open-wallet surgery or the threats would materialise in seconds.
Patrick was itching to make amends; the fact that Trevor was not just a mate but under his protection was well-known. Trevor paid him a decent slice of wedge to make sure he could sit in any game and be safe and secure.
The cards were a hard game for people like Trevor. He was a one-off, a real player; he was the exception to the rule. Somehow, Trevor won more often than he lost. He was a nice bloke as well, a decent guy, in fact. Patrick had always liked him and, more to the point, respected his talent because he knew that only a few people were given such a gift. He had watched Trevor over the years and he could not express in words just how fucking amazing the man was with a deck of cards and a decent pot. But the bottom line was that Trevor was not a fighter. He was not a hard man and he didn't want to be. That was the whole idea of making a few quid, you didn't have to be anything. You bought the safety you required and you got what you paid for. To have Trevor here now, in a terrible state, telling him that he had been fleeced by three baboons and a nancy boy, was so outrageous that Patrick wanted to rip someone's head off just for the hell of it.
'Did you know them? Do you know where they drink? Anything that might tell us who was the brains behind it.'
Trevor nodded. 'The big one I recognised. It took me a while to suss it out but I've seen him with young Dave Williams. He's been in the casino a few times. I think he was nervous of me because I kept staring at him; he was getting right shirty.'
'Dave Williams?'
Patrick just stopped himself from saying, 'My Dave.'
Trevor nodded. 'I'm sure, Pat.'
Pat stood up and looked at Trevor for long moments, his eyes darkening with his growing anger. Then he suddenly said, 'The fucking two-faced cunt.'
Patrick's answer and the way it was delivered was the single most shocking thing that Trevor had ever heard. Patrick Brodie was known as a hard case but no one knew what he was really capable of.
Pat was sensible enough to keep the real villainy out of the mouths of locals. He knew that gossip was what put most people behind bars. Gossip usually had a grain of truth in it and it always amazed him when men discussed their skulduggery in public; it was like asking for a tug from the filth. Being well known was a very good reason to keep your trap shut because everything about you was discussed, exaggerated and believed by everyone around you. It was human nature and the only way to keep safe was to keep quiet.