Usual disclaimers, usual warnings, to which I am adding inane repetitiveness (we are talking about Yizzel here!) Anyhow, here 'tis.

~10~
Of threats, duffings up and scruffy fathers

'You sure you're all right now, sweetheart?' Joey asked.

Leaning back in her seat, Martina sighed. 'Oh, I'm all right. Shouldn't have overreacted. I don't know what came over me.'

She couldn't see his face straight on, but from what she could see, Joey was grinning, and clearly about to make some supposedly witty remark about just exactly what had come over her. She prepared herself for another verbal spar, when Joey's face suddenly turned to horror. He slammed on the brakes, and Martina had just enough time to see the car heading straight for them and shriek.

The Jag squealed to a stop at the same time as the approaching car braked, resulting in only a gentle bump. Joey winced. 'The paintwork…' he whined.

Martina, heart still hammering, shot him a horrified look. 'Oh, so it didn't matter that we nearly both got killed, then? Just so long as your car...'

'Shh,' Joey put one finger over her mouth; a gesture which got her heckles up immensely. Who did he think he was to go shushing her like that? She was about to give him a piece of her mind when she noticed the panicked expression on his face. Martina had never seen Joey look so worried- not even when he was in danger of being caught out down the Social Security. His eyes darted from side to side, and went very pale as he craned his neck to look in the rear view mirror.

Martina stole a glance herself. There was another car behind them, its nose touching the back of Jag, mirroring the vehicle in front of them. They were hemmed in. The DHSS lady's heart rate, which hadn't even settled down to its normal rate after the almost-crash, picked up once more. This was very sinister- she could see why Joey had looked so afraid. A lump came to her throat as a possibility hit her. Joey Boswell clearly had more money than he let on about- that was obvious enough judging by the amount of expensive gear he owned and the amount of cash he was willing to throw about- and it had always been obvious that he wasn't getting all of that from the DHSS. A large portion of it, maybe, but not all of it. And suddenly the frightening thought attacked Martina that perhaps he was always involved in shady dealings, and that was how he came by all that spare cash. She'd only been joking when she'd suggested this to Joey- but now she was terrified her jape had become reality.

Was Joey involved with the mob? Or had he been, and now they were coming to collect something off him that he'd neglected to pay? A parade of horrible ideas assaulted her. She turned to Joey, half of her wanting to cling to him for protection, the other half wanting to hit him and run, but he spoke before she could do either.

'Stay in the car.' His voice was low and emotionless, and it unnerved her further.

'Joey, what is going-'

'Just stay in the car.' He unbuckled his seatbelt, opened up the driver's door, and then paused. Turning back towards her, he took hold of her hand, clutching at it for a moment. His own hands were clammy and shaking, and Martina noted with some relief, though she wasn't sure it should be relief, that whoever these people were that had blocked his car, they weren't his friends. This could prove to be very dangerous. What was she doing with this man?

Joey leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, but this time it didn't reassure her or feel sweet- it just conveyed to her his own terror.

'Stay,' he muttered again, and if she hadn't been frightened for both their lives, she would have hit him for talking to her like she was his obedient puppy.

She watched, rigid in her car seat as the eldest Boswell stepped out into the gathering dark.

'Ah. Greetings!' Joey tried to keep his tone casual. He'd known immediately who he was facing- Yizzel and his mate were far too predictable- and they were easy enough to deal with. Joey had gotten himself out of plenty of situations involving these clowns. They didn't scare him- their plans always had holes, and though he often worried when his family got involved, they had never ended too badly. But he had Martina in the car now, and she wasn't used to this sort of thing. The idea of her getting tangled up in all this nauseated him in more ways than one- what would she think of him if she thought they were making dodgy deals? And, more significantly, he didn't want her being put in any sort of danger. Yes, she was tough behind the DHSS partition, but this was different.

'We don't like to keep you, do we, Yizzel?' came the voice of the boss, and he melted out of the shadows, coming to stand rather menacingly in front of Joey, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

'Naw, don't like to keep yer,' echoed Yizzel from behind Joey's head, and the eldest Boswell closed his eyes, breathing deeply to stay calm.

'Well, in that case, perhaps you'd better be off.'

'Jokin' now, are you, Joey? I don't like people jokin' around wiv me, do I, Yizzel?'

'Nah.'

'What is it this time?' Joey put a lot of effort into trying to sound macho now. 'Another load of stolen goods you'd like someone else to deliver? A chauffer job?'

'It's yer father,' said Yizzel's mate.

'Yeh,' said Yizzel.

Joey felt the colour drain from his face.

'We 'ad another little wager wif 'im- and he 'asn't paid up.'

Joey knew where this was going now, and he didn't like it one bit. 'So,' he said, still keeping his voice even, 'I take it you think I'm gonna settle up instead.' There was more to that sentence, along the lines of well you thought wrong, but Yizzel's mate spoke before he could utter it.

'Five 'undred quid.'

Joey set his jaw. 'On yer rocket.'

'I don't think you should be talkin' to us like that- should he, Yizzel?'

'Nah,' said Yizzel.

'Because we know somethin', don't we, Yizzel?'

'Do we?'

Yizzel's mate kicked him in the shin. 'Yes, we do, Yizzel,' he growled. 'Because we happen to know somethin' about this man's father, don't we, Yizzel?'

'Do we?'

Yizzel's mate rolled his eyes and gave up asking for his input. 'A good source tells us about your father's…condition, shall we say?'

Joey swallowed. He didn't know how these vile bastards had found out about Freddie's heart, but this was going from bad to worse, and he had the sinking feeling he wasn't going to get out of this one entirely unscathed.

'And if he gets so much as one little shock…' Yizzel's mate made a throat-cutting noise, which Yizzel mimicked.

Joey tried to keep his breathing even.

'So imagine what it'll do to him when he finds out his favourite son's snuffed it. Won't be pretty, will it?'

'Nah, won't be pretty.'

Well, there it was then. The threat to him plus the threat to one of his family, all delivered in a neat little package. He had no choice. He'd have to hand over a large wad of cash, or he, then his father, then, by proxy, his entire family would suffer the consequences.

With a horrible lurch to his stomach, Joey reached into his pocket. He resented Yizzel's mate's easy victory. If he got away with this blackmail once, he would try it again. Freddie's condition wasn't likely to go away, and these crooks could completely milk it to their advantage. What could he do, though? His hands were tied. Yizzel and his mate each took a menacing step towards him, and he hastened to find his wallet.

'Five hundred, did you say?' he moaned, but as he began to pull notes out of his wallet, both gangsters' faces turned from him and towards his car.

That couldn't be good.

Martina was used to sitting behind a desk all day, but she couldn't sit still now even for a few minutes. She shifted in her seat,fidgeted, wrung her hands, tried to turn her thoughts to something else, but with Joey outside being cornered by some shady-looking thugs, it was impossible. What was she supposed to do, though? This whole situation terrified her. Part of her wanted to just get out, to get as far away from here as was humanly possible and stay well away from all this shady stuff. But every time she managed to talk herself into going, her entire body froze. She couldn't leave Joey.

If there was any way she could help… oh, what was she thinking? The last time she ended up in a dark alley, Joey had had to rescue her. She didn't know the first thing about what to do in this sort of crisis- and she still didn't know what Joey had done to get involved in all this in the first place. It would be the most ridiculously foolish idea in the world to get out, to go over to him and try to get him out of it. It would never work, he had told her not to, and she would most likely land them both in more trouble.

So, of course, that was exactly what she did.

'Oh, look, Yizzel! Joey's got a little friend with him!'

Uh oh.

'Martina!' Joey's voice was higher than usual. 'Get back in the car.'

'No, I think your friend should join us, shouldn't she, Yizzel?'

'Yeh. Join us.'

Martina walked forwards in a daze. What had she done? What was she going to do?

'Come join the party, sweetheart,' said the more sinister of the two men, and Martina felt the blood in her veins run cold. 'We can't 'ave innocent lit'le girls goin' off down the streets at night!'

'And callin' the police,' said the other one.

'That much was implied, Yizzel!'

Joey had crossed over to her in an instant, pushing her behind him. 'I told you to stay put!' he hissed over his shoulder.

Despite the fact she was supposed to be afraid, Martina felt indignant rage boiling up inside her. 'And since when did you have the right ter tell me what I can and can't do?' she growled back.

'Martina, this is hardly the time or the place!'

'And why, may I ask, are you in this mess in the first place? I did wonder about you, Joey Boswell-'

'It's not like that, sweetheart! I can assure you that this is nothin' to do with-'

'Havin' a nice little chat over there?'

Joey and Martina, still fuming at each other, stopped arguing and looked up at Yizzel and his mate.

'Oi,' said the bloke who must be Yizzel, 'ain't that the woman from the Social Security?'

Martina tried to place the two thugs, but they didn't spark anything in her memory.

'Well, so it is, Yizzel. So it is.' Yizzel's mate leaned in uncomfortably close to the pair. 'Seein' someone you shouldn't again, are you Joey? Remember what happened last time? Roxy Hartwell's husband wasn't too happy when he found out about you, was 'e? If I recall correctly…'

'If I recall correctly, you were the one who got duffed up, not me.' How Joey could still act so obnoxious when faced with danger? He even seemed to be smiling now. 'Well, I suppose that's what comes from bein' so complacent…and so careless with yer fur coats…'

Oh. Martina had a sudden memory of Joey telling her this story on the first afternoon they'd spent together. She'd laughed then, believing it to be a tall tale embellished to entertain her. Now it seemed like he might have been telling the truth, and this idea unnerved her even more than the prospect of what might happen to them at this very moment. Just what did Joey Boswell do with his life? Whatever it was, somehow she'd gotten herself entangled in it, and now she seemed to be facing the consequences of that decision.

'Don't try and act clever with us,' Yizzel's mate said, taking a leisurely drag on his cigarette and blowing smoke in Joey's face. 'The last man who tried that regretted it, didn't he, Yizzel?'

Yizzel made a face which was probably supposed to illustrate the pain the last man who acted clever had experienced.

'And the last time you acted clever you got duffed up by Roxy's husband,' said Joey cheekily. Martina wanted to smile at his impertinence, but there were too many things to worry about.

'Ooh, you will regret that comment,' Yizzel's mate replied, and although she was angry with him and unsure about so many things, Martina still found herself clutching his arm.

'Oi! Lads! If this is about the debt, I can explain!'

The new voice startled all four of the little group, and from around the corner bounded a scruffy heap of a man, silvery hair sticking out from under a moth-eaten cap.

'Dad!' Joey shouted.

Martina looked at the newcomer with astonishment. She would have had more of an opinion on whether or not there was any family resemblance between him and Joey, but the shock of all these things at once was a bit too much. She hadn't expected to be suddenly be confronted with another member of Joey's family, not so soon, and certainly not in this manner.

Yizzel and his mate were now also facing Joey's father, the full force of their ominous approach now turned on him. 'You got our readies?'

'Well, you see,' the man laughed nervously, and Martina noticed for the first time a large shoebrush of a moustache quivering on his upper lip, 'I were followin' this paintin' round- 'ad to wait til I could afford it- bought and sold it this mornin' for twice its value, so, er... I can pay yer back now.'

He reached a hand into his moth-eaten jacket and pulled out an enormous wad of cash that made Martina's eyes widen. 'I've got six 'undred 'ere…five, wasn't it?'

'We'll take the six- the extra 'undred quid can be your late fee,' Yizzel's mate said, holding out a gloved hand, and with a tremendous sigh, Joey's dad passed the whole bundle to him.

'So, that's all settled now, is it?' He laughed again.

'Not quite.' The thugs were pointed in their direction again. 'We're still not quite finished with your son.'

'Look,' said Joey in a low voice, 'you've got what you wanted plus some- now on yer rocket.'

'There's still the question of this lass.' Yizzel's mate reached out to touch her face and she flinched away, trying to stare him down with the same look she used in the DHSS.

'Don't you touch her,' Joey warned.

'There is, of course the problem that she might squeal on us, isn't there, Yizzel?'

'Yeh,' said Yizzel, and Martina rolled her eyes in spite of herself. This repetitive thing was really starting to get on her nerves. 'Tell the coppers and all.'

'She won't,' growled Joey, 'so leave it, okay?'

'I can speak for meself, you know,' Martina snapped. No-one took any notice of her.

'Look,' Joey told Yizzel and his mate, 'how much do you want to clear off?'

'Tryin' to buy us off, are you, Joey?'

'You catch on fast,' said Joey. He rummaged in his pockets, pulling out a wad of notes twice as big as his father's had been and peeling some off of it, and Martina resolved to bring it up with him when all this was over, while she was telling him off about all of this, 'take this, and then on yer bike.' He waved his arms toward their cars.

Yizzel's mate peered at the cash he'd been presented with. 'Not much 'ere, is there, Yizzel?'

'Ain't there?'

'It's more than you deserve,' Joey sounded utterly fed up. 'Now make yerselves scarce, or the family'll have somethin' to say.'

'Don't you remember what we said earlier?' Yizzel's mate asked. 'What'd happen if your father…'

'He won't be shocked any more. He's seen us.'

'But if something happened to you…'

'Then the rest of us'll make sure you regret it,' Joey sounded just as menacing as they did now, and Martina didn't like this side of him. It was everything she'd been worried about from the beginning. 'We're not a merciful lot, you know. And there are more of us than you think.'

Yizzel's mate counted the money again. 'Well,' he said, and though he was still trying to appear in control of the situation, Martina was used to seeing through people's façades, and she could tell he'd been put out by Joey's latest remark, 'we're not 'appy about this- but it'll do. Don't you think, Yizzel?'

'Not 'appy,' said Yizzel. 'But it'll do.'

Martina couldn't hold back any longer. The sarcastic, DHSS lady part of her just had to comment. 'Don't you 'ave an original thought in yer 'ead?'

To her surprise, his mate roared with laughter. 'She's made o' good stuff, this one! Sure I can't tempt you away from Joey Boswell, sweet'eart?'

She shuddered at that. This man's approval wasn't something she particularly wanted. It might just be their ticket out of here though- if she could make them believe she wasn't scared of them, they might stop harassing Joey and skulk off to wherever they came from.

Then she'd be free to do some haranguing herself.

'Oh, I don't think your 'usband would appreciate that,' she said, with a meaningful look at Yizzel. 'What would 'e say if you weren't there to say it for 'im?'

Yizzel's mate didn't appreciate the husband remark, but he seemed to respect her quick wit anyhow. 'Let's not cross the line now, shall we, love?' he warned, tipping his hat to her. 'Come on, Yizzel. We've got places to be.'

'Places to be,' said Yizzel, and slouched off towards his car. As he reached the door he paused. 'Husband?'

A couple of shouts from his mate to leave it be and they were off, being sure to bump the front and back of the Jag as they went. Martina heard Joey make a horrified little noise. 'My car…'

'Oh, enough about your car!' she spluttered. 'You, Mister Boswell, have a lot of explaining to-'

'In a minute,' Joey waved her off, stepping away from her and crossing the narrow street to address his father. Martina, fuming even more, followed him.

'Dad, what do you think you're doin'!' Joey chided. 'Getting' yerself into trouble with that lot- and with yer 'eart…'

'I know what you're gonna say, son,' said Joey's dad, 'I know what you're gonna say- but there's no harm done, is there?'

Joey looked like he was about to remind the man that there was very nearly rather a lot of harm done, and Martina was inclined to say a similar thing, only she felt it wasn't her place. As soon as this little family conversation was over, she would let Joey have it. Until then, she'd just wait.

'I was 'avin' a bit of a grey day, you see, son,' Joey's father continued. 'Grey as rainclouds, it was, so I thought I'd try me luck. And…'

'Okay, okay,' Joey cut him off. 'Like you said, there's no 'arm done. But we'd better all get out o' here before anythin' else 'appens. How'd you get here, son?'

He smiled, and his resemblance to Joey peered out for a split second. 'Brought me cart, didn't I?'

Joey groaned. 'You can't walk that thing about so much- you'll wear your heart out. I'll drive you back to yer flat.'

He appeared to be about to protest, but a look from Joey silenced him. 'Oh, all right then. I'll pick me cart up tomorrer.'

Joey put his arm around the man, guiding him towards the Jag. 'Come on, Martina,' he called over his shoulder.

Martina followed, but she was by no means happy about it. She wasn't one of Joey's minions, to be ordered about. That was another thing she would have to discuss with him as soon as she got a chance- bringing the total number of things-to-yell-at-Joey-about to more than she could count. Her mind was still spinning from the evening's strange turn of events as she climbed into the passenger seat, doing her seatbelt up and staring out the window ahead.

Joey gave her a small smile as he started the engine. She didn't return it. There was too much to be considered. Tonight had started out so well- it had only been around twenty minutes ago at the most that Joey was telling her he adored her and they were joking away with ease, and now, all of a sudden, they'd been cornered by gangsters of some sort, and then Joey had started acting unsavoury himself.

She'd known right from the start he wasn't a one hundred per cent honest person- she'd known he'd been fiddling the DHSS, but this was different. This wasn't just something she could smirk about and say she'd catch him out for- whatever had just gone on was unethical, perhaps even criminal. She didn't have all the facts, of course, but this whole incident had cast a huge shadow of doubt over their whole relationship. Whatever was going on, she wanted no part of it- and how could she stay involved with Joey if she couldn't trust him?

She didn't want to lose him, though. She should have had no qualms about breaking it off with him right here and now- as a DHSS lady it was a dreadful idea to go out with someone you had to work with anyhow- but ever since the incident with Mister Wilson, the idea of staying away from him had become unthinkable, unbearable even.

What do I do? she thought. How is this ever going to work?