Hey guys! I watched 'The Take' the other night and I really wanted to write something to do with it so here's a start, I hope you all like it and I am working on my other stories don't worry :) Tom Hardy is just electric in this mini series and he plays such an amazing character that I wanted to put my own spin on it, hope you like it :)
Freddie Jackson. Even his name strikes fear in me to this day. But there was a different side to Freddie, a side he didn't show that often. I was one of the people he showed it to occasionally. Now I'm not defending anything he did to me or anyone else but I just feel it's fair that people know the two sides there was to Freddie. Freddie got me involved in a life I told myself I was never going to get involved in, he got me sucked in and nearly ruined everything for me…but he had another side to him. A side even his family didn't know he had. A loving, emotional side that was in need of a shoulder to cry on and I was the unfortunate person that he picked.
I don't remember a lot of Freddie before he got out of prison to be honest. I was only about 15 when he first got sent down. But I remember his name being talked about on the block. The block being the little square our apartments surrounded. I remember kids saying Freddie Jackson was the man, kids looked up to him. I was not one of them. Freddie lived a few doors down from us with his family and all I can really remember of him is standing outside my flat, with my sketch pad up on the cold concrete sketching what I saw when he approached me. His girlfriend at the time, the yoke who lived on the floor below us, Jackie was standing at the end of the row, at the stairs smoking and watching everything Freddie was doing.
"What the fack you doin'?" he jeered grabbing my pad from my grasp. He flicked through it and laughed at each sketch. He wore a leather jacket with the collar up and dark aviator type sunglasses and dodgy teeth.
"Give it back will you" I snapped grabbing it back.
"Alrigh' don't be expecting to do anything with them drawins' kid, nobody gonna bother when they find out where you're from" he said taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
Almost immediately my mother appeared at the door grabbing my arm and yanking me inside.
"Leave my daughter alone" she sneered at Freddie. All he did was laugh in her face and flick some ash on her doormat. She slammed the door and pulled me into the kitchen.
"You stay away from Freddie Jackson Alyson. He is nothing but trouble!" she snapped, tears forming in her eyes.
"Mom, I wasn't talking to him he grabbed my sketch pad but I told him off"
She looked at me and smiled. "I know I just don't want you getting mixed up with the likes of him. He's not good news darling, and you're going onto bigger and better things" she smiled kneeling down and clasping my face.
"You're going to go to Art College and make something of yourself; you'll never have to live in a place like this"
My mother had always wanted me to go to college that was her dream. She wasn't like most of the mom's on this block who didn't care what their kids were up to, she watched me like a hawk and made sure I went to school every day. She always said you can spend a fortune but you can't spend an education. Education was the key to getting out the shit that we lived in now. It wasn't my mother's fault; my father was the no good one in the family, leaving us with nothing to rot here like rats and that was something my mother never wanted for me. Her worst nightmare would be I would end up dependent on a man, especially on a man like my father or as she saw it, someone like Freddie Jackson.
The next I remember was when I saw was the day the police arrived and took Freddie away. He had that same walk, the walk that said 'I don't give a fuck what you do to me.' I watched from the balcony with all the neighbors as they gossiped and said how they knew all along that whole family were nothing but scum. I saw Jackie, his now wife, rush out to the car to hug him one last time and shouted that she was going to wait for him. I sighed and whispered good riddance before going back inside to finish my homework. And that was all I heard about Freddie Jackson. For the next 6 years, the place was at peace. Jackie became more dependent on alcohol that was obvious but I kept to myself as my mother had always told me and motored through school eventually getting a scholarship to the National College of Art and Design. I had totally forgotten about Freddie. His mother and father moved out of the flats into a house in the suburbs so the only reminders were Jackie and her horrible little children. I would pass by their flat everyday on the way to college and every day without fail Jackie would sneer a horrible remark about me. My mother told me she just had a chip on her shoulder because she was going nowhere in life which I suppose was true. Her sister on the other hand who was about the same age as me seemed to have a good head on her shoulders but again I was told have nothing to do with any of them so I didn't. But Freddie was right about one thing, I had to lie in college about where I lived because the first few people I told where I actually lived refused to speak to me so I had to pretend. But I got over that, at the end of the day it's about your talent not where you come from.
I got off the bus at the top of my road and walked casually down. I didn't have to be back at college until later that evening so I had a good few hours to eat and chill out at home. I was going to work on my midterm presentation while I had that significant block of time. A lot of people were standing outside our flats and I thought maybe the police were having another raid, except they were smiling. So the police certainly weren't around. I saw a huge banner hanging from our floor that read 'Welcome home Freddy!'
O Jesus, he was out wasn't he? They all stood around waiting for him to arrive clearly. They ignored me as usual; I also got some of the scowls that I get every day. If you weren't into drugs or crime you were seen as an outsider but that certainly didn't bother me. I would laugh at them from cosy suburban home one day. I pushed through the crowds and walked up the stairs and just as I got to our floor I heard a car horn beeping loudly. I glanced and saw a car speed up and an older, much more intimidating Freddie emerge from the passenger seat. Clearly doing time at her Majesty's pleasure would put years on you. Although he still looked the same in some ways, same greasy hair, same tacky clothes, same dodgy choppers, same stupid aviators. His cousin who I knew to see got out of the driver's seat and smiled clearly happy to have his cousin back in his life. Jackie emerged, jumping and wrapping her legs around him, clearly no shame. Everyone cheered and the beer bottles were cracked open. I locked my front door but heard a barrage of laughter and cheering coming from up the stairs, it was going to be a long welcome home party for Freddie.