The Take

'Where's me boy, then?'

Jimmy sounded a

He nodded, but she knew he was not happy and he would have preferred to drop the boy off on the way there. She had justified leaving Jimmy Junior there already because she had a lot of work to catch up on and she needed the time to herself. This was really a complete fabrication but she still tried to convince herself that it was true.

'Ain't your mum and dad going, then?'

Maggie turned to face him. As he looked into her lovely face, Jimmy wondered for the millionth time what was so wrong with his wife that she couldn't take to her own child.

'Maddie is going to me mum's and having him for a while. They won't stay long anyway, you know that. Me dad hates Freddie, and me mum only tolerates him. Once Jackie has a few and gets stroppy they'll bugger off.'

Jimmy nodded, but he was still upset that his little fella was not at home to greet him. He looked around his home, and knew that this was a home to be proud of. It was a six-bedroomed detached Georgian house in three acres. It had a pool, a sauna and was like something from a magazine.

Maggie had the knack of doing the places up, he could not deny that. Yet this house felt empty, devoid of any real life. It was crazy because he had wanted a home like this all his life, and now he had it, he couldn't enjoy it. He knew it was because of Maggie and her attitude towards the boy, and as much as he loved her, he adored his son. Jimmy Junior was a diamond, clever, fu

She had never seemed to really care for him. After his birth Maggie's attitude had been put down to postnatal depression, but although she had recovered from that eventually, she simply hadn't ever bonded with the child.

He walked up the large staircase, and as always marvelled at the beauty of this house, and he knew that he would move out in the morning to a little flat if it would bring back the happiness they had shared in the early days of their marriage.

Maggie came out of their bedroom suite and she looked stu

She smiled back and he saw the professionally whitened teeth and the immaculate make-up and knew the smile was there and reaching her eyes only because her son was not in the house. She relaxed when the boy was away from her, and he knew that was not fanciful thinking because he felt the change in her, saw the difference in her moods.

She moved sedately past him and he walked into his large bedroom with its twin bathrooms and dressing rooms and he felt completely empty inside.

Jackie looked lovely. The girls had done her hair and makeup, and had made sure she did not get pissed too quickly by rationing her drinking.

Little Freddie, who was now huge and cumbersome, was lying on the front-room floor as usual, watching Sky TV

Dia

He was already well known to the police and hated by nearly everyone in his orbit. Because he was Freddie Jackson's son and heir he was allowed to get away with murder and one day that would be what he was charged with. She had no doubt about that whatsoever!

Jackie burped, and the sound made Dia

Jackie was dressed in a black trouser suit and she looked nice. She was pleased with how well she had scrubbed up, but the drink had bloated her and although the weight that had piled on a few years ago was now dropping off her at an alarming rate, her hands and face were still puffy. She should cut down on the booze, but knew that she wouldn't.

Anyway, it was her birthday. If you couldn't have a drink on your birthday, when could you?

Dia

Kim always looked like she was sickening for something, as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But she was all grown up now, so it was none of her business what went on in that girl's head. She had done her bit, and it was up to them to sort themselves out.

Jackie put her daughters out of her mind and wondered if her Freddie would turn up like he had promised. He had better. She didn't ask a lot of him, just that he came out with her on high days and holidays. Surely as his wife she was entitled to that much?

Little Freddie kicked out at Kimberley as she walked past him and she ignored him. He started shouting and swearing at her as she walked up the stairs to go into her bedroom.

Dia

Freddie was already in the pub, not because he was waiting for his wife, but because he was chasing a piece of skirt who worked behind the bar. She was young, only eighteen, but she had the knowing look he loved, and the slutty way of dressing that told him she was well up for it.

Well, so was he. He was now investing in his future sex life by buying her drinks and charming her with his stories and jokes. He was a Face, and as such was already halfway into her knickers. He was half pissed, too, but he was being a good boy because he wanted to impress this little hussy and hopefully bed her before the night was out.

He knew she had a baby, which was always a guarantee for a good time in his experience. Once they were lumbered with a kid and a council flat, the novelty of motherhood soon wore off. Then they were lonely, skint and, more to the point, looking for a bit of excitement to liven up what had turned out to be a very dull and boring existence.

Girls like this little barmaid amazed him. They wanted kids but when they arrived, very few actually enjoyed the experience, and then they wondered why the men in the equation fucked off out at the earliest opportunity. What man in his right mind would believe that the same girl who had dropped her drawers in nanoseconds for him had not done the same thing many times before with other mugs? So the girls quite rightly ended up on their Jack Jones, and then became the local shag for married men like himself.