malt like this.’ Eddie took another sip. ‘I’ll give you a DNA sample if you think you need one,’ he said. ‘But your eyes, Jack ‒ dark, like stones. They’re Jason’s eyes, Harry’s eyes.’
Jack looked over again at the smiling picture of Liam and Jason. Did Jason miss out by not having Harry in his life? Or was he happier with his adopted dad, just like Jack had been with Charlie?
‘Did Harry know Jason was his?’ Jack asked.
A smile came over Eddie’s face. ‘The only thing I ever had in my life, that Harry didn’t, was a son to be proud of. So, no, I didn’t tell him. Jason came along just after Dolly’s first miscarriage. Harry got a man with a van to come round here with everything from their nursery. Gave it all to me. He just needed it out of his house. No baby, no memories, move on ‒ that was Harry. It tore Dolly apart to see it all go, but she put his pain above hers and let him do what he needed to. By their third miscarriage, he was numb to it all, but Dolly . . . Her pain was just as deep and just as cruel. That’s why, when they both said “no more”, she left that nursery like a shrine to all the little ones they could have had. So, there he was, on my doorstep, supervising a couple of grands’ worth of baby stuff being unloaded and brought in here for mine ‒ oblivious to the fact that he was actually providing a new nursery for his own.’ There was that smile again. ‘Can you imagine what he’d have done to me if he’d known? He’d have torn my heart out with his bare hands. See, Harry could father kids ‒ as we know ‒ but what he never had was a boy to teach about life. A legacy.’
Jack stared at Eddie, not really knowing how to respond to any of what he was hearing. What Eddie had done sounded so cruel, and yet, he seemed so proud of it.
‘You sound as if you hated Harry.’
‘No, no, no. I loved him. But he was a selfish man. Harry would have ruined Jason, like he would have ruined you. Let me put you straight. Harry Rawlins fucked my wife, Jack. Fucked her with no regard for me. When he was on the run, he went to my Jackie for help – clean clothes, money and the like – so don’t judge me for taking what was his, ’cos he took what was mine first!’
The whisky was making Eddie brave, but Jack didn’t mind. He’d come here for some back story on his birth dad and he was certainly getting it.
Eddie glazed over for a while as he gazed at his dead son’s photograph. During the silence, Jack thought about Charlie. Eddie was still suffering such a great loss – was this what grief was? Was it something you never, ever got over as long as you lived?
‘Jackie never actually told me that Jason was Harry’s and I never asked,’ Eddie continued, wiping his eye. ‘Then one day – Jason would have been around five – I said he couldn’t have something, and he looked at me like he’d cut me down if he could. That’s when I knew for certain he was Harry’s. Harry was dead by then, so . . .’ He stood up, as if to clear his head. ‘Jason was taller than you, tall like Harry. You got Trudie’s height.’ Eddie cackled as he gauged with his hand how tall he thought Trudie had been. By the looks of things, she was somewhere in between his knee and his shoulder. ‘Course, I might be remembering her kneeling down . . .’ Another cackle of laughter. ‘No, no, I’m joking. She was a good sort, your mum.’
As Eddie rocked and laughed at his little joke, Jack frowned, and the deep vertical line in between his eyebrows became more prominent. When Eddie looked up and saw his expression of distaste, his laughter stopped as quickly as it had started.
‘S-sorry,’ he stuttered. ‘I didn’t mean nothing by that.’
Jack just nodded. ‘What about the rest of Harry’s family?’
He might as well get everything out of Eddie while he was on the back foot.
‘My dad and Harry’s dad were brothers. Harry’s dad was a tough businessman, buying and selling antiques in a relatively legit business, while also running with some heavy-duty villains. Harry’s dad got sent away for armed