The Feud. Kimberley Chambers
for their lives. Raymond had always been far too intelligent to end up like them.
Eddie picked Raymond up at nine on the dot. ‘I’ve found you a flat. It belongs to a mate of mine who’s doing a bit of bird. It’s fully furnished and he only wants a score a week rent. I’ll take you there now, it’s in Dagenham, and it’s only ten minutes away from me and Jess.’
Eddie said very little as Raymond walked around the flat and studied the joint. It was very basic, but clean and certainly liveable.
‘Whaddya think?’ Eddie asked, once Ray had looked in every room.
‘Yeah, it’s OK. Beats listening to me parents argue,’ Raymond said bluntly.
‘Once you find your feet, you can get yourself somewhere better. It’ll do you until then, though. Get your stuff packed up tonight and I’ll pick you up in the morning and help you move in,’ Eddie told him.
Raymond looked at Eddie in amazement. He hadn’t expected things to move this quickly; he thought he’d be moving in a month or so. He hadn’t even told his parents that he was leaving home yet. ‘It’s a bit quick, ain’t it, Ed? Can’t I move in in a couple of weeks? It’ll give me more time to sort stuff out.’
Eddie shook his head. ‘If you’re gonna be working with me, you definitely need your own space. Too many eyes, too many questions, Raymond.’
Raymond nodded. He could hardly argue with Eddie, could he now? He forced a smile. ‘Tomorrow it is, then.’
The next step was Savile Row, where Eddie forked out on two suits, four shirts, three ties and a pair of black leather shoes. Eddie had known the guy who owned the tailor’s shop for years.
‘Seeing as my family are your best customers, how quick can you get one of them suits altered for me?’ he asked.
‘It’ll be done by tomorrow afternoon, Mr Mitchell,’ came the owner’s reply.
‘There’s nothing like people showing you a bit of respect, Raymond. One day that will be you, son,’ Eddie said, as he guided him towards a posh restaurant.
With the menu written in French, Raymond urged Eddie to order for the both of them.
‘And bring over a bottle of your finest champagne as well,’ Eddie told the waiter.
Sipping the bubbly, Eddie and Raymond chatted about Jessica and the kids until their food arrived.
Raymond, who was by now starving, bolted his down within minutes. ‘Nice bit of grub, ain’t it, Ed?’
Eddie laughed. ‘It’s OK, I’ve had better.’
Already loving his new life, Raymond gladly accepted the offer of another bottle of champagne.
Clearing his throat, Eddie decided it was time to drop the bombshell. In detail, he explained the conversation he’d had with his family and the task Raymond had been given.
‘So where do I find this Mad Dave?’ Raymond asked immediately.
‘He owns a two-bob car lot on an industrial estate in Leyton. He’s in a right remote spot at the back of it. There’s a young bird works for him, calls herself his secretary, but really he’s shafting her behind his old woman’s back. I can’t remember the bird’s name, but she’s about eighteen, a single mum and she leaves at three to pick her kid up from school. Mad Dave ain’t got many friends – horrible cunt he is – so chances are, once she’s gone, he’ll definitely be on his Jack Jones.’
‘How much does he owe you?’ Raymond asked calmly.
Eddie was pleased, but also quite taken aback by the kid’s attitude. He seemed keen to pass the task and Ed hoped that it wasn’t just the champagne talking.
‘Eight grand he’s fucked me over for. He brought a load of hooky motors off of me. He owed ten altogether, but he paid back two, then he came out with some cock and bull about the Old Bill nicking the cars off him. It’s a load of old bollocks, I know it is, but he’s been fobbing me off ever since. I try and be fair with people, Ray, but I’ll be honest with you, if I still hadn’t got me dough by the end of this month, I was gonna do the cunt meself.’
‘Can I take something with me to use if I need to?’ Raymond asked.
‘I’ll give you something to carry. I’ve got a cosh, a baseball bat – you can take whatever you want. Anyway, you ain’t gotta worry. Me and the boys will sit just outside the gate. Any agg, we’ll be there like a shot, mate.’
Raymond smiled. He’d never suffered from having a nervous disposition and he wasn’t about to get one now. He needed this job and he would do whatever he had to, to prove his worth. ‘I’ve got me own tool, I’ll use that, and thanks anyway, but I’m sure I won’t need any help.’
Eddie was stunned by the boy’s coolness. ‘Be warned, Ray, Mad Dave’s a big old lump. A wanker he is, but a pushover he ain’t.’
Smiling, Raymond topped up both of their glasses. ‘To me and Mad Dave. May the best man win, eh?’
Two days later, all Savile Rowed up, Raymond sat in the back of a white transit van alongside Eddie, Ronny and Paulie. Uncle Reg had donned his check cap and pipe, and had offered his services to drive.
‘I wore this just in case we were seen. I look like some OAP on a jolly boys’ outing, no one’s gonna clock us with me driving,’ he laughed.
‘So you’re ready to play with the big boys are you, Ray?’ Ronny asked sarcastically.
Raymond could tell immediately that Ronny didn’t want him in the firm and was determined to prove him wrong. ‘More than ready,’ he answered politely.
‘Next on your right, Reg. You know where it is, don’t you? Straight down the bottom of that road.’
‘Don’t worry, I know I’ve semi-retired meself, but I ain’t fucking senile yet,’ Reg said jokingly.
Ronny nudged Paulie as they pulled up outside Mad Dave’s appalling-looking car site. ‘I’d love to be a fly on the wall, wouldn’t you?’ he whispered.
Paulie ignored him. Whatever the end result, this kid had bigger bollocks than most.
‘What tool did you bring?’ Eddie asked, as he opened the back door.
From nowhere, Raymond pulled out the biggest butcher’s knife Eddie had ever seen. ‘Fucking hell. Where did you get that from?’
‘I used to be a butcher, didn’t I? And I know exactly how to use it. Now, are you sure his bird’s gone home?’
Eddie urged Reg to poke his head around the gate.
‘She drives a light-blue Ford Fiesta and parks it just on the right as you go in.’
Within seconds, Reg hobbled back, giving the thumbs up.
Ronny sat quietly as Raymond stepped out of the van and strolled into the car lot like he owned the place. Flash little cunt, I hope he comes unstuck, he thought to himself.
With the knife tucked firmly down the inside of his jacket, Raymond spotted the Portakabin and marched straight in.
Mad Dave was sat on a black leather chair. He had his feet on a wooden desk, a beer in one hand and a copy of the Sun newspaper in the other. ‘Can I help you?’ he said, without properly looking up.
‘Yes, you can. I work for Eddie Mitchell and I’m here on his behalf to collect the eight thousand pound that you owe him.’
Mad Dave took a large gulp of beer, burped, then threw his head back with laughter. ‘You’re ’aving a giraffe, ain’t yer, mate? So you’re telling me that that mug Eddie Mitchell has sunk so low in his fuckin’ business empire that’s he’s sent some teenage kid round to threaten me?’
Raymond grinned. ‘I’m not a teenage kid and I’m not threatening you.