'No, Freddie, you are wrong, not our boy, not my baby…'

Freddie dragged his wife up off the stool and whispered into her face with such hate and anger she was terrified all over again. 'She was eighty years old, Jack, and she was robbed and assaulted. And it ain't the first time he has done something like this either. I was guilty of letting it go the last time. I sorted it for him because that's what we do, ain't it, for our kids? But not this time, I ain't going to do it, he is a fucking nonce, a nonce, and I ain't fucking turning a blind eye. You had better shut your fucking trap, before I fucking shut it for you once and for all. He is a fucking beast and we have to sort this cunt out now!'

Jackie was bawling now. She was in bits, and she was also petrified that what Freddie was saying was true.

'You are wrong, Freddie, he is a little boy!'

For the first time in years Freddie felt something for his wife, he was so impressed with her loyalty towards their son. If Little Freddie had robbed a bank or even murdered someone he would have stood beside her and lied with her. But this was different, this was wrong. This was beasting, this was about the fucking nonces on the VPU units. This was so far out of his sphere it frightened him. Supposing this boy did something and people heard about it, knew that this fucking sex offender was his flesh and blood.

'It was Mrs Caldwell, your old granny's mate! They robbed her, assaulted her and then, how is this for a fucking party piece, Jackie, they set fire to a fucking tramp who had tried to help the poor old cow!'

Jackie was now on the edge, she was hysterical. 'He wouldn't do anything like that, Freddie, he ain't like that. My baby ain't like that… Why ain't they come for him, then? Why ain't Old Bill come here, eh?'

Freddie sighed. 'I was told about Mrs Caldwell by the attending officer. As luck would have it, we pay him off. He alerted me to what was going on, Jackie, and I have had to lay out serious wedge to keep this fucking ponce out of the nick. Now will you fucking believe me, Jackie? I only gave this cunt a pass because I can't live with what he's done. Or with people knowing what he's done. Can't you fucking understand that much at least?'

Little Freddie lay on the sofa in the living room and listened to his parents arguing. He knew from experience that eventually they would forget about him. He had fucked up, but for all his father's threats he wouldn't really put him away. He would ground him, watch him, and give him another curfew.

Then it would die down. The man who had sired him would find other things to do, and his mother would let him out and lie for him as always.

All in all, he had got off lightly.

Jackie came into the living room and gave her baby a gentle hug. She had finally understood where her husband was coming from, but no matter what he said or what he threatened, her son was going nowhere. He was not bad. If only Freddie could see him like she saw him. He was only a kid. Because he was a big boy for his age people thought that he was older than he was and tried to treat him like an adult. But he was only a kid and Freddie was too hard on him.

Everyone was against them, since day one she had fought against getting any kind of help. He was just a child and because his last name was Jackson he was ostracised and picked on by everyone. The filth hated him, the courts hated him, the social workers looked at her as if she was dirt! They had it in for him and all. He was her baby, her last-born, and she was not about to let anyone tell her that he was bad.

He was in with the wrong crowd, and because he was such a big fucker people remembered him more than the others. He was easily led, and that was all that was wrong with him. They wanted him to be put away, put in care, or stuck in some fucking home, some fucking institution. Well, not while she still had a breath in her body. She would fight for her baby, she would keep him home with her. No one was going to take him anywhere.

She knew inside that none of this was true, that the name Jackson actually stopped anything even remotely like that happening, but it was the only way she could cope with her son's problems.

She was grateful for the vodka Freddie had brought in for her, although it also told her how bad this had become. But as ever she pushed all the terrible things from her mind, drank herself stupid and made a point of forgetting anything detrimental to her own peace of mind or wellbeing.

Freddie had fucked off and for once she was glad he had gone out. Over the years she had wanted him home so badly, but now she didn't care either way. Her Little Freddie was sitting with her, cuddling her, and she didn't need anyone else. He was her life, and no one would take him from her.

Now she was drunk as a skunk, she told Little Freddie that over and over again.

Maggie was lying on the bed with her son. He was asleep in her arms and she marvelled at the love she had for him. When she looked at him she wondered how she had ever let Freddie dictate her feelings for someone so precious, someone who had come from her own body. He was half hers, half of him was made up of her and she had let her hate for Freddie come between her and her child.

Her child.

Since the day she had fronted Freddie up, she had felt so much better. She felt she had taken the power back, even though that expression irritated her, especially when she heard it from complete drongos on daytime talk shows, who had no concept of real women's problems. She knew what having real power over someone meant. She had lived with it day in and day out for so long.

Freddie had possessed the power over her because she had been terrified he would tell his wife what had happened and Jackie would blame her because she could never admit that her husband was capable of raping her sister.

It was Jackie's reaction she had been most afraid of.

She had also been so scared that Freddie would tell her husband, tell everyone they knew that he had slept with her, and she had believed that everyone would think it had been by choice. Now, all this time later, she knew no one would think that she would even contemplate touching him.

Now, she was happy, happier anyway, than she had been in years.

Seeing Kimberley in the hospital that night, and seeing Jackie for what she really was, a fucking coward and a drunk, had made her understand her own fears and her own problems.

Telling Jackie that she would lay her out had been such a big step for her. All her life her elder sister had dictated to her, told her what to do, given her advice, slagged her off, insulted her. She had treated Jackie like some kind of fucking goddess when, in reality, she was a drunk. A manipulating, vicious, drunken bitch who for some reason she had always felt a strong and genuine love towards. And she had always assumed that the feeling had been reciprocated. Now Maggie wasn't so sure. She knew Jackie ran her down to her mates and talked badly about her within the family.

Maggie had also realised that, whatever happened between her and Jackie, she wouldn't lose the girls' love. She had taken them over many years before and they loved and needed her. The girls would still be there, whether she was talking to Jackie or not.

So she had told her sister what she thought of her, and gone home to find Freddie trying once more to inveigle his way into her confidence, into her mind and, worst of all, into her real life with her husband.

He had sat in her house with her man, and she had finally had enough. She had wanted him to tell Jimmy what had happened so badly. She was sick of keeping it secret, protecting people who did not deserve her care or her protection.