Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End Carol Rivers (best sales books of all time .txt) 📖

Ronnie let his jacket fall back into place. 'Tony Stratton poured too much of your hooch down his own throat and landed up in hospital. He's in a coma and Sammy now has only one aim in life. To eliminate you or me, but preferably both of us.'

Micky stared in silence at his brother. 'You're kidding.'

'If Sid and Bernie hadn't come back early from Joyce's I wouldn't be standing here now.'

'But I never had no complaints from Sammy before,' Micky protested lamely. 'Me and Lenny make good stuff, we got a good business going!'

'Tell that to the Strattons,' Ronnie muttered, his face taught with anger. 'I warned you often enough. Tried to shut you down but you wouldn't have it, even dragged Sean into delivering for you.' He pointed to Bella and Terry. 'And these two are involved, no doubt?'

'Why not? They're on the payroll fair and square,' Micky stated defiantly. 'I give Terry a good wedge and he's thankful for it. Ask them if you don't believe me.'

But Ronnie was having none of it. 'You have overstepped the mark this time, bringing in kids. But you wouldn't care about that, would you? You would use a cripple chained to a post without a second's thought if it suited your purpose.'

'I swear, on Mum's life, Ron. My booze ain't iffy.'

'Mum's not here, thank God,' Ronnie stated flatly. 'She would be sick at heart if she was.'

Ronnie knew time was fast running out fast. He also knew he was weak from loss of blood. He would be weaker still when Sammy arrived. A part of him wanted to see Micky take Sammy's punishment and learn from it. But Micky was right. If Mum and Dad were here, they would not tolerate a split in the family. United they stood and united they fell.

As he gazed into his brother's eyes, he knew that what was Micky's understanding of the world wasn't other peoples. But no matter what Micky had done, he was a Bryant. And Sammy Stratton would not be turning up to find him alone.

Ronnie looked hard at his two brothers. 'Go to the car. Henry's hardware's in the boot. Bring the lot in. Sort it out between yourselves. And gather anything else handy that we can use.'

Just then his legs began to fold beneath him. He knew he was about to black out from loss of blood. He shook his head in effort to rouse himself, but even before he hit the ground, he was out cold.

Bella drew the damp cloth over his forehead. Very slowly he opened his eyes. 'It's all right, Ronnie, lay still.'

'What happened?'

'You passed out and I got Sean and Micky to bring you up here.'

'Where are they now?'

'They've gone down to the car. You're bleeding bad, Ron.' She watched him ease himself up on the couch and press his hand over the blood on his shirt.

'Bella, do yourself a favour girl, and get out of here,' he told her hoarsely. 'Take Terry with you and get as far away from here as possible.'

She shook her head. 'I'm not going anywhere, Ron. Not without Micky.'

Ronnie's voice was low. 'This doesn't involve you and it promises to be one hell of a night. Sid and Bernie will have dropped Sammy Stratton's two dummies off by now. When they spill the beans to Sammy there will be ructions. I want you to go to Joyce. She'll take care of you both.'

'Don't waste your breath Ron,' Bella said stubbornly. 'Me and Terry are staying.'

Just then Sean and Micky came up the stairs. 'Are you all right, bruv?'

Ronnie wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. 'Yeah. I'm okay. Have you done what I told you?'

Micky nodded. 'We're ready for them.'

Sean looked worried. 'How do we know if they'll come?'

'They will, take my word for it,' Ronnie assured him.

'We're looking at a full-scale bundle?' Sean asked, going pale.

Ronnie nodded as he swung his legs down from the couch. 'Yeah, no doubt about that.'

'You're bleeding bad,' Micky said anxiously. 'Bella, you got anything to put round him?'

She nodded. 'I'll find some cloth. But the wound will need to be cleaned first.'

Micky grinned at her. 'Say no more. A drop of the hard stuff is just what you want.' He went downstairs and returned with a hip flask. 'Here you are girl, this will do the job.'

'What's in there?' Ronnie demanded, frowning suspiciously. 'Not the rubbish you concoct, I hope.'

'Of course not,' Micky replied sullenly. 'Now go on Bells, clean him up.'

When they were alone, she opened the soiled jacket and undid the buttons of the shirt. Her stomach lurched at the sight of the knife wound and the blood seeping out of it.

Ronnie caught her wrist and shook it. 'Look at me, Bella. I need you now. Don't faint on me, will you?'

She swallowed. 'I'm all right.'

'Have you ever used a needle and thread?'

'Course I have. Lots of times. But - ' She stopped as she realized what he was implying.

'Then you can stitch me up,' he continued, his eyes full of pain. 'It's the same principle. Won't be no different to darning a sock.'

'But I've only got ordinary sewing things. Not the proper stuff like they use in a hospital.'

'It'll do the same job, I promise you.' He tilted his head towards Terry. 'Now send the kid downstairs and give me some alcohol.'

Five minutes later, when she had cleaned Ronnie up and given him the rest of the hip flask to drink, she prepared the needle and thread. It took all her will power to slide the point into his flesh and when he groaned she paused, trembling at the thought of the pain she was about to inflict.

'Go on, go on,' Ronnie urged through gritted teeth.

Forcing her fingers to move, she brought the two sides of the wound together. Ignoring the blood that still escaped, she sewed carefully, convincing herself that it was Terry's trousers she was mending, not Ronnie's wound.

After it was