The man shook his head. ‘It’s always serious.’
Ted scowled and waved his hands around. ‘I got turned over but can’t prove it, especially not against… Anyway I should have won. It was a big pot and I would have been made for quite some time with that kind of money.’
The man frowned as he sat behind his large oak desk in his book-lined office. ‘It’s not that I don’t understand; you have to understand that I can’t help you. I don’t work for you, thankfully. I work for your mother and under strict instructions. She is tired of bailing you out. I don’t know what’s happened to you and why you keep getting into so much debt. Gambling doesn’t pay your bills.’ He sighed. ‘Look, I know you’ve had a difficult time since your wife died but you’re creating your own problems, you must see that. Your mother has always listened and helped where she could. You have benefitted so much from her need to bring the family back together, but she has finally recognised that paying off so many of your gambling debts hasn’t worked because you’ve just found the nearest game and chased the dream all over again.’
The man stood up and thrust his hands in his trouser pockets and gazed out at the rain-spattered window before turning back to Ted. ‘It’s about time you realised you’re never going to win the amount of money you’re after.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand, Ted. You could’ve achieved so much. What’s happened to you?’
Ted thumped his fist down on the desk. ‘I didn’t come here for a lecture from you in your holier than thou position, with your musty old books and certificates. I know I’ve made mistakes but there are some very dangerous people after me, people I can’t just turn my back on. It doesn’t work that way.’
‘You mean like you did with your family? You just left them for someone else to look after.’
Ted knew he was fighting a losing battle but he couldn’t stop trying to get the help he needed. It was different this time. ‘It was for their own good; it was for their own safety. Look, Jerry, what you don’t understand is that I keep gambling because I want to get them back, because I want to get a home for us.’ Ted ran his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like for me.’
The man scowled. ‘Don’t call me that. I hated it when we were younger and nothing has changed; I still hate it.’
Ted forced a faint smile to his lips. ‘That’s just it, we were friends. Don’t you want to help me if only for old times’ sake?’
Jerry shook his head. Sighing, he looked up at his book-lined shelves, evidence of all the work he had put in to get where he is today. There had been no rich parent for him, no one bailing him out.
Was that a chink of light Ted saw in Jerry’s armour? ‘Please, I shall be forever grateful.’
Jerry straightened his jacket. He studied Ted for a moment before shaking his head. ‘You do know if you’d had a regular job you could’ve kept a very nice roof over your family’s heads. I don’t know what you expect, but nothing comes for free; there’s always a cost. Let’s hope the price you’re paying is worth it.’
Ted’s lips tightened; the moment had gone. ‘I wanted to speak to my mother – that’s what I expected – and not to have to deal with you.’ He scowled. ‘Look, I don’t want us to fall out but if I don’t get this sorted out quickly, at best I shall end up with some broken bones, at worst my body will be found floating in the Thames.’
Jerry sighed at the change of tone. All pretence had disappeared. ‘Well, you know your mother isn’t available.’ He bent down, opened the desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to Ted. ‘Your mother knew you would end up coming here. She knows you better than you know yourself, and it’s about time you started listening to her. I’ll leave you for a moment while you read it.’
Ted turned the envelope over in his hands, jerking round as the office door slammed shut behind him, relief spreading through him, as he realised no one had come in. He looked back at the envelope, his name scrawled on the front in his mother’s handwriting. He took a deep breath; his mother writing to him wasn’t a good sign. Poking his finger under the sealed flap, he ripped it open. He pulled out the single sheet of folded paper.
Dear Edward,
Ted sighed; only his mother ever called him Edward, particularly when he was in trouble.
For you to be reading this letter I am assuming that I am either dead or you are in trouble, again.
As you are fully aware family is very important to me, and I must confess to not coming close to understanding your actions, but I also realise you will not change just because I keep going on. Let’s face it, you stopped listening to me years ago. So I’ve decided to use my money as an incentive to get your family back together and to stop you from ruining people’s lives. I don’t know how much you owe this time, and I have no desire to know, but there is a substantial amount of money that you can have to clear the path for you to get your house in order. When you have lived together with your family, and have stayed out of trouble then you can have the rest of your inheritance. If this isn’t possible then you will get nothing.
Your father, God rest his soul, will be proud of me for finally taking a stand.
Your loving mother xx
Ted stared down at the words on the paper. Nothing had changed, and the only difference was that her disappointment was in writing for all to see. He smiled. At least she was giving him the money to sort out Mickey Simmons. That was all that mattered. Ted turned round at the sound of the door handle creaking. He watched as it turned. He dropped the letter on the desk and stood up, just in case.
The door was pushed open and Jerry walked in.
Ted sighed and sat back down again. He smiled when he noticed Jerry was carrying another envelope, only this one was bulging.
Jerry threw it on the desk. ‘This is what your mother is giving you and as I understand it there will be no more until you’ve sorted yourself out.’
Ted picked up the envelope, squishing the notes down inside. ‘You know you could be more help to me. My mother listens to you.’
Jerry scowled. ‘You still don’t get it do you? Your mother is my client and you are not. It is my job to look after her interests. Now please leave. I have work to do before my next appointment.’
Ted stood up and gathered up his mother’s letter and pushed it in his trouser pocket. ‘I’m going.’ He took the couple of steps to the door and pulled it open, almost bumping into the impeccably dressed secretary with her mousy brown hair neatly rolled into a chignon. He stepped aside for her to walk in. Ted almost ran out of the office, nearly falling over one of the dark oak, red-cushioned chairs that stood lined up against the wall. He pulled open the black front door and stepped out onto the street, trying to avoid the puddles that were getting bigger with every minute that passed. It wasn’t long before the rain started to seep through the holes in the soles of his shoes and his feet squelched as he walked along. His grip didn’t loosen on the money he had been given; he hadn’t even stopped to count it. He knew it didn’t matter how much it was; it probably wouldn’t be enough. His mind was already chasing round in circles, trying to remember where the next big game was going to be and when.
A car chugged to a standstill and two men dressed in black suits and wearing trilby hats got out. The men were suddenly walking either side of him. ‘Hello, Ted, I believe you ’ave something that belongs to us.’
‘I don’t think so, lads.’
Slips chuckled. ‘I admire you, Ted. Yer don’t seem to care that you are now playing with the big boys, or that yer playing with fire.’
Beads of perspiration formed on Ted’s forehead, and the palms of his hands were damp. ‘I’m not, I’m just getting the money together that I owe your father.’
Slips looked around him before grabbing Ted’s arm and swinging him round.
Ted lost his balance and slipped to the floor. His suit was instantly soaked and his hat landed in a puddle further along the road.
Slips stood over him. ‘Don�
�t take me for a fool. I could give yer a good kicking now.’ He snatched the envelope from Ted’s hand. ‘This was due weeks ago. Don’t yer care that Mickey knows everything there is to know about yer? He makes it his job to know. ’Ow do you fink he manages to stay in control of so much? Knowledge is power.’ He ripped open the envelope. ‘This is a good down payment and may buy yer some time but I’ll be looking for the next instalment next week.’
*
Dot’s eyes narrowed as she watched her brother reading his letter for the second time. She no longer noticed the fresh outdoor smell that always accompanied him and his patched trousers and check shirt.
Tom sighed as he peered up from the paper he was clutching.
Dot quickly looked down, concentrating hard on the stack of sliced bread that was standing in front of her on the kitchen table.
Tom leant back on the wooden chair he was sitting on. ‘Annie still sounds like she’s enjoying living her life in London with Rose and Joyce.’
Dot looked up from buttering the stack of sliced bread. ‘Be happy for her, Tom. When I worked with Rose and met that niece of mine for the first time in goodness knows how many years they were lovely.’ She smiled. ‘You should be proud of her.’
The paper rustled as Tom folded up the letter from his daughter. ‘I am, I just worry. I don’t know Rose like you do. She was always said to be up to no good before she left for London with Annie.’
Dot shook her head. She thrust the end of the knife into the butter. Ran her hands down the front of the blue floral apron she was wearing to protect her plain blue dress. ‘I can only speak as I find and she was, is, a wonderful friend and a very talented seamstress.’
Tom turned the letter over a couple of times before thrusting it back into the envelope. ‘You sound like you miss it.’
Dot chuckled. ‘I suppose I do in a way but still wouldn’t change what I have now. It’s wonderful to be back with you and Pa, and helping out with the chickens let alone having a family to cook for.’ She glanced around her. ‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, although I do wish Ivy was here. We did have some laughs together.’
Sadness trampled across Tom’s weathered face. ‘She missed you after you left. I remember thinking at the time she probably only married me because you and her got on so well.’
Dot threw back her head and laughed. ‘I shall ignore that Tom because you know as well as I do Ivy totally adored you.’
‘I know, I adored her too.’ Tom stood up and walked over to the window gazing in wonderment at the new crops growing, despite the awful rain they had been having. There was a time he would have worried about his crops being ruined but not anymore. ‘You know everything has changed so much in the last year. I miss them all and I want everything to go back to how it was.’ His shoulders hunched over.
‘I know.’ Dot’s lips thinned as she held herself and her tears in check. Staring at his stooped back, she didn’t have the heart to tell him Annie would probably always live in London now.
Tom stood silent for a moment, staring hard at the farm he had worked so hard to keep. ‘The only thing that remains constant is the land; the crops keep growing no matter what happens in our lives.’
‘But it doesn’t happen by itself. We have to feed, love and nurture it; otherwise it gets overcome and strangled by weeds.’ Dot’s eyes welled up with unshed tears. ‘That’s why I’m here, to give back some of the love and nurturing I casually left behind when I ran away.’
‘I know and we’re pleased you’re here.’
Dot forced a smile. ‘Hopefully, that means you’re not looking to get rid of me. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.’
Tom turned and smiled at his sister. ‘Well, it certainly makes Pa happy to have you back home.’
Dot laughed. ‘Only Pa?’
Tom shook his head. ‘No, not only Pa, but what about Arthur?’
Dot picked up the knife again and studied the buttered bread in front of her. ‘What about Arthur?’
Tom scowled. ‘Don’t give me the innocent “What about Arthur”. He clearly loves you and I believe you love him so what are you going to do about it?’
Dot shrugged.
‘If that was one of the girls, you and Ivy would be saying something like: “Don’t shrug your shoulders like that.” You need to talk it out.’
Dot frowned. ‘I know but he’s living in London and I’m here so there’s not much to talk out.’
Tom walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. ‘You know I’ve lost Ivy, and far too soon in my opinion, but you still have the love of your life here, Dorothy, and he still wants to be with you. Don’t throw it away, sis. It’s time you and him had a proper conversation about your futures, even if it means making a compromise somewhere along the line.’
Dot peered under her lashes at her brother. ‘It must be serious. You’ve called me by my full name.’
Tom smiled. ‘You may joke but I’m deadly serious. He’s visited you here several times since you’ve been home. He at least deserves an honest conversation before he goes back to London tomorrow.’ He paused. ‘When he gets back from the village I’ll take Margaret and Pa out to give you some space.’
Dot frowned. ‘There’s no need. We can go out if need be.’
The back door suddenly flew open. The spring sunshine lit up the room. Margaret, wearing an old pair of her brother’s overalls, pulled off her muddy farm boots. ‘Am I interrupting?’
Dorothy’s face lit up at the red cheeks of her young niece. ‘No, not at all – you’re looking very flushed.’ She studied her niece. ‘You know you should let me alter those clothes if you’re going to keep wearing them.’
‘They’re not too bad and will do for now.’ Margaret gave her father a mischievous smile. ‘While Pa’s been hiding away I’ve weeded all around the potatoes and cabbages, and my back is killing me now.’
‘Margaret, I’m so sorry, I got caught up talking to your aunt.’ Tom smiled. ‘It’s her fault.’
Dot threw her head back and laughed. ‘I haven’t heard that since we were children. It’s good to know nothing has changed between us.’
Tom laughed.
‘What’s all the laughter about?’ Arthur boomed as he walked through the front door.
Tom smiled at his old friend. ‘We’ve just gone back to being six years old again.’ He turned to Margaret. ‘Come on, let’s go and find your grandpa.’
Margaret stared at her father before peering down at her boots. ‘I’ve only just left him talking to the chickens.’
Tom chuckled. ‘I’d say I’m surprised but everyone seems to talk to the chickens. They’re obviously good at keeping secrets.’ He walked towards the back door and pulled on his boots. ‘Come on.’
Margaret frowned but moved to follow her father. He waited while she bent down to pull on her boots.
Arthur’s gaze followed them. ‘Was it something I said?’
‘What? No, of course not.’ Tom looked over at him. ‘I’m sure Margaret can confirm I’ve been idling in here for far too long this morning.’
Margaret’s face broke into a smile. ‘I would never dare suggest such a thing, even if it is true.’
The sound of laughter followed the pair of them out of the house.
Arthur’s laughter faded. He sat down at the kitchen table and began tapping his fingers rhythmically.
Dot watched him for a few seconds. ‘I was making Tom a sandwich but as he’s gone out again would you like it instead?’
Arthur stopped tapping and ran his hand through his hair. ‘No, at least not yet, thank you.’
Dot sighed. ‘What’s going on?’ She placed the buttered slices of bread on top of each other and covered them with a tea plate. ‘I know something is, so you might as well tell me and get it over and done with.’
‘I thought the same, what with Tom going out as soon as I came in.’
Dot gave a nervous laugh. ‘Yes, that b
rother of mine is not very subtle is he.’
Arthur stood up but his gaze stayed fixed on the grain of the wooden table. ‘So what’s going on then? It’s obviously something to do with me so that means it’s something to do with you as well.’
Dot shook her head. ‘Nothing is going on. Tom just thinks we should have an honest talk about our futures.’
Arthur sat down again. ‘I must admit I agree with him, even though I’ve been avoiding it.’ He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I wanted to give you a chance to realise I’m not the same man you left in London. It’s one of my many regrets that I hurt you so much, but that’s something I have to live with. I’ve never stopped loving you. I, selfishly, got caught up in my own grief, but I’m hoping you could grow to love me again.’
Dot’s eyes filled with unshed tears as the memories of their life together bombarded her mind. She reached out and rested her hand on his arm. ‘The last few years of our lives together were difficult times but I never stopped loving you. I only left because I needed to mourn our son and try to survive as well. I felt you were slowly, and painfully, killing me.’
Arthur nodded. ‘I can’t put into words how sorry I am.’ His eyes were full of pain. ‘I don’t expect you to believe me but I’ve been trying to show you that I want my life to be with you and only you, if you’ll have me.’
Tears rolled down Dot’s cheeks. She quickly brushed them away with the tips of her fingers. ‘It’s not as simple as that. You’re in London and I’m here. I know it sounds selfish, and it was my decision to leave here in the first place, but I’ve missed out on a lot of years with my father and brother and I don’t want to be left with the regret of not spending time with them. We know better than anyone how precious life is and how quickly it can be ripped away from us.’ She sniffed as the tears began to cascade down her cheeks again, leaving their salty residue on her lips. ‘I don’t want to have to choose.’
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 8