Even Dicky was laughing as Richie helped Harry calm his wife down. Then he turned back to Terry Baker. Terry was about to get the hiding of his life, and no one watching the event, not even young Dianna, was willing to help him out.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Terry was lying on the filthy floor battered and bleeding, and against her better judgement Dianna went to him. As she tried to kneel on the floor beside him to give him some kind of comfort, Roxanna dragged her away roughly.

'Leave him, Di, for fuck's sake. He is a fucking muppet.' Her tone showed that she thought her sister had gone mad.

But look at him, Rox, he's in a right state.'

'Fucking right and all, so he should be.'

Rox's voice was hard and without any emotion whatsoever, and it occurred to Dianna that even though she professed to loathe their so-called father, Rox was actually more like him than she thought.

In fact, it was the loyalty factor that was kicking in, no more and no less.

Dianna could hear Terry groaning, knew he had to be in terrible pain and she didn't know what to do about any of it. She had caused all this. He had explained about her father hating him, and how Freddie had used him in the past. If she had only waited for him outside, if only she had not walked away from him like she had, this would never have happened. Now look at him. He would never forgive her, she knew that, and who could blame him?

His forearm was shattered, it was hanging loosely at the elbow. He had been trounced so badly that he would never be able to work again. He was covered in his own blood and even though they knew he would live, that would not guarantee him a pass once Freddie Jackson heard the full story.

Terry had to have been mad to even think he might get away with mugging off Freddie's kinfolk. Jackie Jackson was renowned as a piss head, a pill popper and a wanker, and that was just what her friends said about her in the comfort and safety of their own homes. But she was Freddie Jackson's wife, even if he only stuck around because of the boy. Jackie was off limits to anyone who valued their life, their family's lives, or their credibility.

Terry Baker must be off his trolley, but then, they had heard the stories about him. Gossip was, after all, their main conversational directive. It wasn't classed as gossip, of course, it was classed as tipping each other the wink, or giving out the nod. They dealt in facts, not women's chat.

Dicky was shaking with the anger and the excitement a real heavy tear up created in a body, especially when he was the undisputed victor. He gulped at the brandy handed to him by Paul, and he felt the friendly and respectful hand that squeezed his shoulder gently. Paul was telling him he had done the right thing.

As he looked at Rox he knew he had pleased this beautiful woman of his no end. She was made up with pride, and she was beaming at him now as he tried to calm himself down.

He had saved her mother's reputation, what was left of it anyway, and defended her honour. Whatever she might think of her mother privately, no one outside their tight-knit circle of family would ever hear it from her. Jackie was, after all, her mother. In their world that accounted for everything.

Dicky understood that way of thinking, and he would give Jackie her creds. His own mother had been on the game most of her life, and he respected her for that. He didn't like it, but he understood it. The grief he had taken as a child over her chosen, but ultimately lucrative, lifestyle had paid off for them both. The fights that had consequently ensued as she had been called names, been denigrated by the kids he mixed with, had stood him in good stead for this kind of life. He could have a row, and he appreciated the fact that he could take on men much larger than him, because that had been a must all his life.

Fight or die, had been his only option then, and he had fought for his mother at first and then later on for himself, for the respect of his peers. His father had been either banged up or on the trot most of his life. She had done what she could to keep them clothed and fed, and no one would ever say anything about her that was even remotely out of order.

Now the fight was over, the doors had been locked and the place was to all intents and purposes out of bounds, especially to the Old Bill. It was taken for granted that, naturally, no one had seen or even heard anything that had happened.

Terry would be dumped outside a hospital at some point, but for the moment he could lie there and think about what a cunt he was, because that was the general consensus of every person in the building.

Rox pulled Dianna to one side and said under her breath, 'What the fuck is going on with you? He was cunting our mother and you were going to help him?'

She was trying to understand this sister of hers, who as far as she was concerned needed a slap herself. They all knew the score, they had grown up knowing the score, so why would Dianna, Dianna of all the people in this place, try and help him? It didn't make sense, but being a clever girl the reason why hit her like a billiard ball in a sock.

'Is he the mystery bloke? Is he the fucking squeeze you've been hiding away? No wonder you didn't want the old man to know about him. That is Terry Baker.'

Dianna nodded. She had been sussed.

'Dad hates him, Di.'

Dianna was nearly in tears. 'Dad hates everyone.' She sounded like a petulant child even to her own ears.

'He hates him for a reason and you know that. For all his faults Dad looks out for us in his own way. Terry Baker was banged up on an armed robbery and he caused untold aggravation for the old man before he went. You would do well to remember that in future.'

Terry Baker had gone down in history as one of the only people to ever mug off Freddie Jackson and get away with it, but only because of a lucky capture while robbing a NatWest bank in Silvertown. No one knew what had caused the barney in the first place, only that Freddie had been looking for him for days before the fatal blag. The lump Terry had incurred had in fact been a lifesaver.

He was handsome, a man with panache, and he was also what was commonly termed an arsehole. He had gone down in local folklore as a man who had blagged with no rhyme or reason, except for a pump-action shotgun and two mates as stupid and naïve as he was. He had always been a person with a personality deficit, which was caused by his complete lack of one in the first place.

He would argue over a pound, and with drink or drugs inside him he became morose and aggressive and he was also under the mistaken impression that he could take on all comers. Terry Baker was a lot of things but a fighter was not one of them. He was a weapons man, a machete king, not a fisticuffs person, regardless of what he might think to the contrary.

But women loved him. He knew how to push all the right buttons and his handsome face was adept at hiding his utter contempt for the female population. He had seen Dianna as nothing more than a bit of fluff, some fun. He was shagging his biggest enemy's daughter, and what more could any man in his position want?

'Dad, please, Dad…'

Freddie sighed as he stopped the car. As he looked as his son, his boy, he was not surprised to find that he had no feelings for him whatsoever. He had felt a lot of emotions about this child over the years, anger, love, sorrow. Even he was susceptible to a child's ability to make you love them, make you protect them, but even Freddie Jackson had his limit.

No matter what he had done in his own life, no matter how badly he had treated Little Freddie and even Maggie over the years, he could not, in any way, shape or form countenance his son's actions.