Slips shook his head. ‘Well, I can tell you when the next game is going to be if that’s what yer want to know, although I had hoped you’d learnt yer lesson this time and wouldn’t be back again.’
‘Thank you for your concern Slips, but as I’ve already said, I have money and wish to talk to your father.’
There was a scraping of a chair across the tiled floor. Slips looked behind him and saw his father walking towards them. The smell of cigar smoke got stronger as Mickey Simmons got nearer. ‘Well, to what do I owe this honour, Ted? Don’t usually see you during the day. I heard you say you wanted to see me.’
Ted pulled himself upright pushed his shoulders back and mumbled, ‘I mustn’t show fear.’ He took a breath. ‘I have some business to discuss with you.’
Mickey Simmons laughed. ‘And what possible business could you and I have to talk about? Apart from you losing at cards to me what else is there? Or maybe you just wanna list of where the games are? You should know better than anyone that I never reveal when and where games are going to be held until a day or two beforehand.’
Ted studied Mickey Simmons for a second. ‘I am expecting someone to join us shortly, but I wanted to get some preliminary talks out of the way first.’
Mickey put his cigar to his lips and puffed vigorously on it, sending swirls of smoke into the air. ‘Now you have me intrigued.’
Ted nodded. ‘That’s good. I just want five minutes of your time to discuss some business.’ He peered over his shoulder at Slips standing there waiting to chuck him out, before looking back at Mickey. ‘I have money in my pocket and this bit of business will be to your advantage. You just need to sit down with me for five minutes.’
Mickey’s eyes darted from side to side. ‘All right, come over here and we’ll take a seat and discuss your business proposal. Do you wanna whisky?’
‘No thanks, I need to keep a clear head and make sure my decision is sound for once in my life.’
Mickey chuckled. ‘I think this is a side of you I haven’t seen before.’
Ted looked over his shoulder at Slips. ‘I am expecting a Jeremiah King to join us shortly so can you please let him in when he knocks on the door?’
Slips looked over at his father, who gave him the nod.
Mickey walked Ted over to a nearby table. ‘So, I can’t pretend I’m not surprised to see you.’ He indicated for him to sit down.
Ted nodded. ‘No one is more surprised than me.’ He walked round the table and pulled out a chair where he could see the room and the door.
Mickey smiled but said nothing.
Ted didn’t take his eyes off him. ‘I have some money in my pocket here and I want to buy something you own.’
Mickey’s eyes narrowed as he once again drew on his cigar. ‘Show me the colour of it, and then we’ll discuss detail.’
Ted pulled a wad of notes out of his pocket and placed them on the table in front of him.
Mickey studied the notes for a moment. ‘There’s quite a sum there, Ted.’ He paused, then reached out and picked up a pack of cards and confidently started shuffling them. ‘You can tell me what you want in a moment but why don’t we have some fun first.’
Ted watched the cards closely, almost mesmerised by the movement.
‘Why don’t we cut the deck and say ace high and the highest card wins?’
Ted sat in silence for a moment. ‘Wins what?’
Mickey smiled, his cigar balancing in the corner of his mouth. ‘If you win you can have what you want for nothing, but if I win I get that pile of money for nothing.’
Ted stayed silent.
Mickey stopped shuffling. ‘Come on, there’s a fifty-fifty chance you’ll win, that’s not bad odds is it?’
Ted’s lips tightened. ‘No, Mickey, I’m not gambling this money away. It has to be done all legal and above board. The person I’ve asked to join me here is a solicitor, who will draw up papers if you agree, which I think you will.’
Mickey raised his eyebrows. ‘What is it you want to buy?’
Ted smiled. ‘It’s the place my wife and I had some good times in whenever we were in London together, and as you said it’s bleeding you dry I thought I’d take it off your hands.’
Mickey threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘You most certainly can.’
Ted’s heart pounded in his chest. ‘First, we have to agree a figure.’
23
Rose stopped and put the two shopping bags down by her feet. She sighed, looking over her shoulder. ‘Remind me why we volunteered to do this?’
Annie followed suit. She smiled at her friend. ‘Because Joyce is our friend and she’s trying to earn a crust and cooking is all she knows; at least until she works out what she’s going to do.’
Rose chuckled. ‘Oh yeah, that was it. Well, next time we have the urge to help just remind me it’s hard work being nice to people.’
Annie giggled. ‘You know you don’t mean that. You’d do anything for Joyce, as indeed would I.’
Rose waved her hand in the air. ‘I know, but where’s her father when he’s needed? He seems to have disappeared again.’
Annie moved aside to let someone pass her on the pavement. ‘I’ve had similar thoughts but haven’t liked to mention it. Do you think despite everything Joyce has been through, and him, he’s gambling away his mother’s money?’
Rose shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. It’s a shame because he could be helping her to build something good, but, I suppose, he’s not that sort of father. I mean he’s even left Philip. It’s a good job Arthur is so great with him.’
Annie nodded. ‘I was hoping that once she discovered he was alive they would be able to have a good relationship. It’s a shame, especially as she had such a good one with her mother.’ She picked up her shopping bags. ‘Come on, let’s get going. We’re nearly at the theatre.’
Rose sighed before doing the same. ‘I hope he doesn’t keep hurting her because I may not be able to keep my mouth shut.’
Annie smiled at her friend. ‘You will. You’re not as tough as you make out. Look how kind and careful you were with Arthur when we first arrived and he was drinking all the time.’
Rose stared straight ahead. ‘That was different. It wasn’t right, but he was grieving whereas Ted just doesn’t seem to care about anybody but himself.’
They stepped forward together, the sun warm on their faces.
Annie looked across at her friend. ‘He did save Simon’s life, so maybe he’s not as selfish as we think.’
Rose nodded. ‘Maybe, I hope I’m proved wrong, for Joyce’s sake, but time will tell.’
They walked on in silence, each locked into their own thoughts.
‘Thank goodness we’ve got here.’ Annie pushed the stage door of The Lyceum open with her elbow and hips. She almost fell in when it flew open, and dropped the bags at her feet. Gasping for breath, she mopped her forehead. ‘It doesn’t feel like it’s getting any cooler out there.’
Rose quickly followed. ‘Let me get in out of this heat.’ She squeezed past the bags Annie had dropped and followed suit.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have just left them there.’
Bert pulled his ample body up from his chair. ‘It’s not likely to end anytime soon; after all it is August.’ He took a step nearer. ‘Those bags look heavy. What yer girls got in there?’
Annie rubbed the palms of her hands together, the red welts confirming Bert’s observations. ‘They are heavy. We bought some food that our friend Joyce has cooked to sell. We thought we’d try and get the word out that she’s a great cook. We’re hoping that one day she’ll have her own restaurant, but until then…’
Rose sighed. ‘She’s certainly had her life turned upside down lately so we’re just trying to help where we can.’
Annie leant against the wall. ‘I don’t know if you met Joyce. She was cooking at the Meet and Feast Café in Shaftesbury Avenue, but it’s closed down because there was a fire.’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘And before you say anything – no, she didn’t cause it.’
Bert chuckled. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’
Rose laughed. ‘Knowing you, Bert, I expect you were. Anyway, we bought in some food to see if the staff would like to buy any of it. Joyce was up all night cooking so it’s very fresh and hopefully we can get her back on her feet.’
Bert tapped his lips with his finger. ‘I don’t know if yer need permission from Mr Tyler to do that.’
Annie lowered her head and her shoulders hunched over. ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. It seemed like a good idea at the time but we obviously didn’t think it through.’
Bert stepped forward and picked up the bags. ‘Don’t let it get yer down. I’m sure he’ll say yes to yer. Where do yer wanna put it all and I’ll carry them for yer?’
‘I’m not sure; they need to be out of the way.’
‘Look why don’t yer just leave them ’ere with me while yer speak to Mr Tyler and see what he says.’
Rose stood up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, hopefully we won’t be long.’
Kitty swung open the stage door and stepped inside. ‘What’s this? Are you two leaving home?’ She laughed.
Annie smiled. ‘It certainly looks that way doesn’t it, but actually we bought some food in. We’re hoping to sell to the cast for lunch or whenever they’re hungry. I thought if I put a jar out then people could just leave the money for what they take. I trust them.’
Kitty gave her melodious laugh. ‘That could be your first mistake.’
Annie looked crestfallen. ‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea then?’
Kitty laughed again. ‘I’m only playing with you. Who has made this food?’
Annie opened one of the bags and the smell of fresh bread wafted up. ‘Our friend Joyce did. The one meant to be doing the food for your wedding. Actually, that’s something we need to discuss with you now that the café’s not available, but now isn’t the right time or place.’
Rose nodded. ‘Do you think Stan will allow us to lay a table out?’
‘It smells lovely. I don’t see why not! Leave him to me. We’ve just got to figure out where to put it where it won’t be in the way.’
Bert opened one of the bags. ‘Everything smells delicious. Can I have a pie? I’ll give yer the money for it.’
Annie laughed. ‘Of course. I have no desire to carry it all home again.’
There was a rustle of paper as Bert pulled out a meat and potato pie. He looked up to see three sets of eyes staring at him. ‘I don’t know if I can eat it with yer all staring at me.’
The girls laughed at his awkwardness.
Annie was the first to look away. ‘Sorry, Bert, we were just waiting to see what you thought of it.’
Bert bit down on the edge of the pastry; he raised his eyebrows as he silently chewed and licked his lips.
Rose stared at the doorman, trying to second-guess what he was thinking. ‘Well?’
Bert smiled. ‘It’s the best pie I’ve ever tasted. It’s wonderful. The pastry almost melts in yer mouth. I’ll tell everyone I see, don’t yer worry about that.’
The girls stepped further along the corridor, ready to talk about laying out the food when Rose rushed back to one of the shopping bags. ‘I almost forgot my material.’ There was a rustling noise as she pulled out a brown paper bag, which had some white cotton peeking out the end.
*
Simon sat in front of the canvas tilting his head one way then the other. He’d never painted portraits before, and he wasn’t sure if his attempt was good or bad, but he decided to persist. It hadn’t taken long for it to take shape; he was enjoying the challenge of painting something different.
Mavis poked her head round the door, not saying a word; she stood there almost holding her breath while watching her son. He appeared quite relaxed and relatively happy sat with his paintbrushes poised mid-air. He had always made no secret that painting was his way to lose himself. She no longer moaned about the smell of the paints or the drips from his brushes that formed shapes on the floor. Every morning she heard the groans coming from his bedroom as he did the exercises the hospital had given him. She worried he pushed himself too hard but had to admit she could see an improvement in the way he moved. He suddenly seemed to have purpose again.
Simon looked down at something in his hand and smiled.
Mavis craned her neck but couldn’t see what he was holding, only the thin gold chain dangling from his hand. She stopped worrying about it and smiled, happy that he seemed more content, but she knew he was missing Joyce and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t doing more to contact her. However, she had to step back and let him make his own decisions. He appeared to have come to terms with everything that had happened, which somewhat surprised her.
Barbara sidled up to her mother. Mavis moved sideways in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, so her daughter could see in the small room. Barbara opened her mouth to speak but Mavis nudged her with her elbow. They both stood there in silence watching Simon at work.
There was a faint clicking noise before Simon suddenly turned round, his eyes narrowed. ‘I thought someone was watching me, and assumed I was imagining it.’ He put what he was holding into his painting coat pocket, away from prying eyes. He wasn’t ready to share yet.
Mavis gave a nervous laugh. ‘I’m sorry, Simon, but I could watch you paint all day long. It fascinates me.’
Simon gave half a smile. ‘Well, maybe you should try doing it yourself.’
Mavis threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh. ‘Oh no, I could never do what you do. I keep telling you you’re the one with the real talent.’
Barbara stepped further into the room. ‘How are you feeling, Simon? Are you still doing the exercises you were told to do?’
Simon chuckled at her. ‘You’re getting as bad as Mother. Keep fussing.’
Barbara sighed. ‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or insulted by that comment. However, I do want to make sure you’re improving, and according to Mother, the doctor said you would. Mind you, after the pair of you keeping the fact you were back a secret for several weeks, I’m amazed I’m even talking to either of you.’
Simon put down his paintbrush. He took his sister’s hand in his and squeezed it tight. ‘Please try to understand I wasn’t really in a fit state for visitors, and still needed to get my head around a few things. Even now I’m not sure I have. I still have a long way to go.’
Barbara nodded. ‘I do understand. You’re lucky I love you, but I can’t help feeling a little hurt. And if I feel that I hate to think what Joyce must feel. You know she worked her socks off in that café every single day, early mornings to late evenings, even bringing that poor little mite in every day. She stood up to the landlord and wasn’t going to pay any more rent, even though I thought we should, and he was scary.’ She paused. ‘I wasn’t sure I liked her at first but I was wrong. You need to pay her a visit and sort it all out before I really become right motherly and bang both your heads together.’
Mavis and Simon burst out laughing.
Simon turned to Mavis. ‘See, Ma, she’s turning into you. God help me with two of you in the house.’
Mavis winked at her daughter. ‘And, that’s without Joyce being here, to boss you around.’
Barbara run her hands down Simon’s back; the coarse material of his painting coat was rough to the touch. ‘In all seriousness, Simon, Peter is selling Joyce’s baking on his stall. I’ve seen it, and everything is selling very well, which isn’t that surprising. Are you going to help her? Are you going to be a part of it?’
Simon glanced back at his canvas and said nothing for a moment. ‘Don’t you worry about what I’m doing; you should just try and do your bit, if that’s what you want.’
Mavis looked at her daughter and shook her head.
Barbara frowned. ‘I’m sorry, Simon, I can’t stand by and watch you and Joyce throw everything away.’
Simon s
tared straight ahead. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not throwing anything away.’
Barbara clenched her hands down by her sides. ‘I don’t know if you’re interested or not, but all her friends are trying to help her one way or another, and you could be doing the same, especially considering how hard she worked for you.’
Simon rested his hand on the back of a nearby chair and pulled himself upright, grabbing his walking stick, which was leaning up against it. He peered up at the clock sitting on the solid oak mantelpiece: nearly ten o’clock. ‘It’s time I ventured out for a walk.’
Mavis frowned. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No, Ma, I have to learn to get on with things and you have to let me.’
A tight band of fear gripped Mavis’s chest. ‘What if you fall or get tired?’
Simon frowned and his lips tightened for a moment. ‘I’m not going to live my life as an invalid, Ma. If I get tired I’ll find somewhere to sit and if I fall I will get up again, with or without someone’s help.’
Mavis had anxiety etched on her face.
Barbara looked from one to the other. ‘Ma, Simon’s right, you have to let him go. You can’t mollycoddle him for the rest of your days.’
Mavis lowered her eyes. ‘I can try.’
Simon limped over to his mother. ‘Ma, I’ll be all right, have faith. This is something I have to do to start making everything right again.’ He began undoing the buttons of his coat and smiled. ‘See, I’m getting quite good at undoing buttons with one hand.’
Barbara smiled. ‘Or you could have undone them while you were still sitting down.’
Simon chuckled. ‘Yes, that’s true, but who said I was organised enough to think things through properly?’ Wincing, he took a step nearer to Barbara. ‘Thank you for bringing me clarity.’ He smiled at her serious expression. ‘I’m a lucky man, and I’d be even luckier if you helped me out of this so I can get out of this house.’
24
Joyce glanced across at Peter. She was bursting to tell everyone about her conversation with Simon but there never seemed to be a good time. Annie and Rose hadn’t been in the house at the same time lately so she had hugged her secret to herself. She watched as Peter weighed potatoes to put into his customer’s shopping bag. Saturday was the busiest day of the week for the market. She was exhausted. Getting up early to do some baking to earn a living was taking its toll. She was grateful to Annie and Rose for asking Peter to sell her goods on his stall and for taking pies and bread to the theatre but she didn’t know how long she could keep managing on just a few hours’ sleep.
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 33