Ted watched Arthur closely. ‘You’re all right, no one knows I’m here.’
Arthur stepped back inside, running his fingers through his hair. ‘Well, you best get inside before anybody sees you. I don’t want no trouble being brought to my doorstep. I have the feeling that’s exactly what you would bring. Joyce deserves better, as indeed they all do.’
Ted shook his head as he stepped over the threshold, removed his trilby, and closed the door behind him. ‘We were friends once.’
Arthur stared at him, taking in his dishevelled appearance and the bruising on his face. ‘You’re right, but looking at you right now I find that quite hard to believe. I can’t imagine what we ever had in common to form that friendship. I can’t believe how badly you’ve treated Joyce. You should be ashamed of yourself.’
‘You’ve got a nerve; you were a drunk!’
Arthur’s mouth tightened. ‘That’s right I was, but mine was caused by grief. What’s your excuse? And, before you say anything, it’s not an excuse I’m proud of, but trust me I lost everything that was important to me.’
Ted shrugged. ‘I didn’t come here for a lecture. I know what I’ve done but no one knows what I’ve been going through.’
Arthur could feel anger raging through him as he stared at Ted. ‘And what about your daughter? What about Joyce? What about what she’s been going through? Don’t you care at all?’
‘As I said, I didn’t come here for a lecture.’
Arthur shook his head. ‘No, you could never be told. If I had to guess what brought you to my doorstep I would say it was money. It’s always been about money. You have no idea what it’s like to lose a child, and yet you’ve just thrown yours away with no thought. One day you’ll wake up to the fact that life isn’t about money; it’s about caring for the people around you and the ones you love. Let me tell you something, when you lose everyone you love none of it means anything anymore because you have no one to share it with.’
Ted glared at Arthur before brushing past him and striding into the dining room. ‘I don’t have long.’ He stood next to the window and pulled back the edge of the curtain. He peered round it, looking on to the street. ‘I have a debt to pay and I don’t have the money.’
‘Then get a job and stop gambling.’ Arthur stared at Ted. ‘Have you not learnt anything from when you left your family short, your wife working miracles to put food on the table? Do you seriously think that when you had a win the presents you brought back made up for that?’
‘Look, Arthur, do you think I wanted to come here? Do you not recognise desperation when you see it?’
‘I’ll tell you what I think, shall I? I think it’s about time you got yourself together and had a proper conversation with Joyce.’ Arthur paused, and stared at Ted. ‘Don’t you care you could lose your daughter to a German bomb?’ He waved his newspaper in the air and it rustled as Arthur turned its pages. ‘According to the newspaper those bombs we heard the other night were around Stoke Newington, Dalston, Hoxton, Shoreditch, Whitechapel, Stepney and Leytonstone. They’re getting nearer and people are dying.’
‘Of course I care. Those poor people must have been terrified.’ Ted glanced over at Arthur, but didn’t look down at the newspaper. ‘I hope they were all taking shelter in their basements.’
Arthur studied Ted for a moment. ‘The homes were bombed to the ground and people were killed and you can’t even bring yourself to look at the paper – never mind read about it.’
Ted turned away and gave a troubled sigh. ‘Look, I don’t want to bring trouble to Joyce, or to you, but I have a feeling it could already be too late for me to change that.’
Arthur took a sharp intake of breath. ‘What does that mean? Is she in danger?’
‘Not if I can pay my bill.’
Arthur’s eyes widened as he suddenly made the connection. ‘Is that who Frank is?’ He dropped his paper and clenched his fists down by his sides. ‘I’ve been trying to find out about him because he keeps turning up and I’m not convinced he’s the guardian angel he professes to be.’
Ted didn’t answer. He looked at the floor before looking up again and letting his eyes roam around the room.
‘Don’t even think about taking something that’s not yours; believe me I won’t hesitate to contact the police.’
Ted shook his head and bit his lip before pleading with Arthur. ‘I have to pay this debt. I was cheated out of a big win and now they’re after me. I’ve paid some of it but I still owe quite a bit. As I said I wouldn’t come here if I wasn’t desperate.’
Arthur didn’t know what to do. He had no desire to help Ted but also wanted to protect Joyce at all costs. ‘Wait here and I’ll get you some money but don’t ever darken my doorstep again unless it’s with Joyce’s blessing.’ He turned and walked out of the room.
Ted wandered round picking up figurines, examining them before returning them into the cabinet. He noticed the small box on the side and opened it. He gasped as he stared down at the thin gold band that sat in the middle of it. Ted looked up as heavy footsteps thudded along the hall. He looked down at the ring one last time and thrust the box into his jacket pocket.
Arthur waved the notes around. ‘You can have this and I don’t want it back but there is a stipulation to this deal: you make sure Frank is called off and you talk to Joyce. She has been in a right old state since she saw you at the hospital.’
Ted nodded and reached out to take the money.
Arthur scowled at him and pulled his arm back. ‘No nodding, I want to actually hear the words. I want to see if I can believe you.’
Ted’s lips tightened. ‘I want to make it up to her, I promise. I didn’t mean to just leave her but my life went from bad to worse, and I got into a right old mess. In the end I thought it was safer for her if I wasn’t in her life.’
Arthur stared at Ted. ‘And yet you’ve still brought trouble to her door so that hasn’t quite worked out, has it?’ He shook his head and threw the money on the table. ‘Take this and get out.’
Ted reached out to seize the money before Arthur changed his mind. ‘I will sort it, I promise.’
*
Ted stood outside the pawnshop in Victoria Road. He had purposely travelled away from Arthur’s house so he wouldn’t bump into Joyce. He peered up and down the busy street. The fumes from the coughing exhaust pipes filled the air while the clouds of smoke drifted up and disappeared into the grey sky. The sun was trying to break through, although, at the same time he felt a couple of spots of rain. He looked around him. The last thing he needed was to bump into Arthur or Joyce. He turned to stare in the pawnshop window at the many items of jewellery and watches trying to entice the customers in. He could see the shop was full to the rafters with many different things that people had sold on.
Ted tapped the outside of his trouser pocket to check the folded notes Arthur had given him were still there. He didn’t want to part with the money he had been given; it felt like a gift. He had the idea of trying to find another card game where he could double it again, but not one of the Simmons games. He smiled. It was good to have a plan, and this one would work. He could pay off his debt and then talk to Joyce about them living together as a family. His fingers clasped around the small box in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out and opened it. His eyes glazed over as he stared down at his wife’s wedding ring. Could he do this? Could he really sell his wife’s wedding ring? A voice yelled in his head, telling him he could always buy it back again when he’d had his win. His conscience thought otherwise and argued back. What if he didn’t have the win? His wife’s ring would be lost forever.
‘Well, fancy seeing you here, Ted.’
Ted looked up, trying to hide his misery from the man standing in front of him.
‘Is the ring worth anything do you think? Could it pay off your debt once and for all?’
Ted shook his head. ‘Look, Slips, I’m doing the best I can to raise the money. If I hadn’t been stitched up in that game it wou
ld never have come to this.’
Slips sneered at him. ‘Do yer want me to pass that on to my father?’
Teds eyes widened and panic trampled across his face. ‘No, of course I don’t, but you know as well as I do I had a great hand there, and it’s strange that he had the only hand that could beat me.’ Ted paused for a second. ‘Let’s face it he was supposedly playing blind as well, so how else could he have known? I was convinced that money was mine; otherwise I would’ve stopped.’
Slips threw back his head and roared with laughter, drawing attention to them from people walking by. ‘No, yer wouldn’t of, yer can’t help yerself. There’s your daughter working so hard and yer just throw away yer money. I wouldn’t mind but yer not even any good at it. I told yer not to play when I met yer on the door but would yer listen? No. So when yer say yer shouldn’t be in this position and were cheated out of yer winnings: yer right yer shouldn’t be in this position, because yer should’ve listened to me before yer joined the game. But as always, Ted Taylor, yer know better than everybody else so yer reap what yer sow.’
Ted stared at the ring. ‘This was my wife’s wedding ring. I’ve just stolen it from my daughter. That’s what I’ve come down to.’
Slips shook his head. ‘That makes yer worse than me, because I’d never steal from someone I loved, or maybe yer don’t love ’er so that makes it easier. Were yer not brought up to believe family is family and nothing else matters?’
‘Of course I was, but difficult times call for desperate action.’
Slips snatched the box out of Ted’s hand. ‘Let’s have a look, see if it’s worth anything.’
Ted snatched it back. ‘You can’t just take this; it belongs to my daughter.’
Slips leant forward and grabbed Ted’s jacket with both fists and pulled him in close. ‘Don’t push yer luck wiv me because I’ve tried to be nice, but now yer just plain taking advantage of my good nature. Don’t make me ’ave to remind yer what the taste of yer own blood is like.’ He stared at Ted’s terrified expression. ‘Yer need to understand yer no good to me dead but if I ’ave to send a message then I will; after all I can always get the money from yer daughter, Joyce, now she’s a lovely girl and a great cook.’
Ted’s arms were limp as they hung by his sides. He tried hard to hide his fear by turning his head away.
Slips shook Ted. ‘Look at me.’
Ted turned his face to look at him. The smell of onion on Slips’s breath was strong; he tried to hold his breath.
Slips slammed his forehead against Ted’s, knocking off his trilby hat. ‘I’m not messing.’ He pushed Ted away and snatched the ring back.
Ted frowned. ‘Please, you can’t take it. It was my wife’s and now my daughter should have it. Look, Slips, I just need a bit more time. I’m getting there.’
‘I’m not heartless. You can keep the ring, but yer must give me the money that your friend Arthur has given you.’
Ted shrugged. ‘What makes you think Arthur has given me any money? And how do you know about him?’
Slips smiled. ‘Trust me when I say I know everything about you. I even know what room your mother is in at the hospital. So it’s up to you; do yer wanna play clean or dirty because I can do either as yer well know?’
Ted fidgeted as he looked around him.
Slips took a step nearer. ‘No one is coming to your rescue so hand it over.’
Ted took a deep breath. ‘What makes you think I have any money?’
Slips chuckled. ‘It’s one of the oldest signs in the book, Ted; you keep touching your pocket to make sure it’s still there.’
Ted sighed, his shoulders hunched over.
Slips shook his head. ‘Please don’t tell me you were going to gamble it away?’
Ted shook his head. ‘Of course not, what do you take me for?’
‘Ted, one thing you’re not is a very good liar so I’m saving yer from yourself.’ Slips paused and held out his hand. ‘Hand it over. Don’t make me hurt yer again because I will. It’s better yer get a beating than me.’ He lifted his chin. ‘Yer know, snapping your arm in half will be easy, then there will definitely be no card playing for yer.’
Ted’s heart was pounding. He thrust his hand inside his pocket and pulled out the wad of notes and handed it to Slips.
‘It’s good to see you’re finally learning.’ Slips flicked through the notes before handing back the wedding ring. ‘As I said, I’m not heartless, but it’s not enough, although it will buy yer some time.’ He turned to walk away, stopping to pick up his hat, and looking thoughtfully at Ted. ‘Think carefully about what yer do with that ring.’ He turned away and carried on walking.
Ted frowned. ‘Please, Slips; leave my family out of this mess. I beg you not to involve them in it.’
Slips put his hat on his head at a jaunty angle. ‘Ted, I didn’t involve them; yer did that when yer didn’t pay. Yer know ’ow it works; everything is fair game.’
18
There was something about hospitals, the smells and the quiet stilted atmosphere of people whispering. Doctors and nurses moved silently around the ward; only the uniforms rustling together as they moved gave their presence away. The trolley wheels squeaked as it made its way down the ward, carrying books and newspapers for the patients.
Mavis sat very still in the chair next to Simon’s bed. For the first time there was tension between them. She wasn’t sure if it was her age or the heat of the June sunshine beating through the window but beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. Opening her black handbag, she retrieved her white lace-edged handkerchief and dabbed it on her face. How she now longed for the rain they’d had in April. ‘Don’t you think it’s time I told Joyce and Barbara you are here?’
Simon was still in the same position; he had one pillow and was lying flat on his back. He scowled. ‘No, Barbara can’t be trusted to keep anything to herself and Joyce has probably moved on.’
Mavis’s lips tightened. She couldn’t argue about Barbara but Joyce…
A doctor was suddenly standing at the foot of Simon’s bed flanked by two nurses. ‘Good morning, Mr Hitchin, how are you feeling today?’ The doctor picked up Simon’s notes and took a pen from the top pocket of his white coat and began writing on them. He walked round to the side of the bed and placed the notes on the bedside cabinet. ‘Have you tried to get out of bed yet?’
Simon frowned. ‘No, Doctor, I haven’t. It’s quite painful to move any part of my body.’ He took a breath. ‘Actually, it hurts just to lie here.’
The doctor picked up Simon’s notes again and started to read them. ‘It looks like you are doing well so there’s no reason why we shouldn’t get you out of bed.’ His lips twisted a little. ‘Of course before we do try I expect you realise it’s going to hurt like hell. That’s partly stiffness, where you’ve been so still, and also your body has started healing. The skin needs to have movement, as indeed do your joints as they can all stiffen through lack of use. As far as we can tell we managed to get all the shrapnel out of your back so it’s just about letting it heal now. You’re lucky with where it hit your body; it could have been much worse.’
Mavis cleared her throat. ‘Would you like me to leave?’
The doctor looked up and smiled. ‘Not on our account; your son might be glad to have you here by the time we’ve finished with him.’
Mavis stood up. She clasped her hand round the top rung of the heavy wooden chair, and set it down a little further away from the bed. It went down with a thud and nearly toppled over. She glanced across at the doctor and nurses. ‘Sorry, I was trying too hard to be quiet.’
The doctor nodded.
One of the nurses stepped round the bed and stood nearby. ‘Don’t worry, it’s all right.’
The doctor cleared his throat.
Each of the nurses eyed him before moving into position, one either side of the bed.
The doctor watched as Simon prepared himself for the pain. His breathing was already coming in short b
ursts. ‘Mr Hitchin, you’re not expected to do it all yourself this time; the nurses and I will push and pull you into position to sit you up, but first they will bend and stretch your legs a little and then your arms. If it really gets too much then please let us know and we’ll stop for a moment for you to catch your breath.’
Simon nodded, bracing himself for the pain that was going to assault him from every angle.
Mavis watched as they pushed and pulled Simon about. His face screwed up in agony, his hands gripped the side of the bed, but he never screamed out.
‘You’re doing very well, Simon. Keep going and you will get there.’ The doctor watched Simon’s every move while offering words of encouragement. ‘If you do this every day it won’t take long before you’ll be relatively pain-free. Your leg will take a few of months to heal so you’ll need a walking stick going forward.’ The doctor paused. ‘I know it’s painful and I’m sorry to push you so hard but you’ll thank me in the long run.’
Simon’s face screwed up in pain. ‘I know.’ He gasped. ‘I’ve got to get better, no matter what.’
Mavis welled up as she watched the pain etched on Simon’s face. She felt so helpless. She wanted to do what every mother wanted to do, protect and cradle him from harm, but she didn’t. She sat in silence watching and praying he was going to be all right. She sent up silent prayers hoping they would be answered. Mavis couldn’t help but think it would’ve been a good thing if Joyce could have been there. She would have lifted his spirits rather than him thinking their relationship was no more.
The doctor helped Simon sit in an armchair and propped his leg up. ‘I know you’re feeling extremely uncomfortable right now; hopefully the painkillers will soon start to take effect, and as exhausting as it is, it will do you good to get out of bed and start moving around. You’ve been in here for a while and it’s not a good thing for you to still be in bed. The more you move the quicker you’ll be released from the pain and the easier moving will become, but it will take some time for it all to go.’
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 26