by Beezy Marsh
I was only saved by a van with a huge placard on the top, and a fella yelling through a megaphone: ‘Women! Your country needs you. Sign up here for vital work. We need you to work to get Britain back on its feet!
‘Don’t stay at home when you are needed in our factories and offices.’
The van drew up right beside us and he clambered out of the passenger seat.
‘You, ladies, can I interest you in signing up today, to help your country,’ he said, brandishing a clip board.
I’d heard about women being accosted by government officials who were so desperate to find staff after the war that they were signing girls up on the street to get them to go to work.
‘Oh, that’s all we need,’ said Alice, through gritted teeth. She turned to face him.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Alice, almost sweeping him into the gutter with a flick of her arm. ‘We are all in gainful employment, my good man. We work all the hours that God sends, in Gamages.’
‘You can say that again,’ I muttered under my breath, as I escaped Alice’s clutches.
That afternoon, Gypsy did her hair and had a bath in the tin tub in front of the range before leaving early to go to the club. She was still high as a kite about the prospect of dinner with Albert Rossi, even though he’d belted her one.
I tried warning her that a leopard doesn’t change its spots but she wouldn’t hear a word of it. The scummy grey water was cold in the old tin bath and Gypsy was long gone, in a waft of her cheap Coty perfume, when there was the most almighty hammering on the front door.
I pulled it open to find Jimmy standing there, his collar pulled high up around his chin, his hat low over his eyes, and bloodstains on his hands.
‘Nell,’ he said, ‘Thank God you’re here! Please let me in.’
‘What in the name of Christ Almighty have you gone and done?’ I said, my mouth falling open at the sight of so much blood. It was on his overcoat too, a great splodge of it.
‘I’m on my toes, Nell,’ he said, white with fear, stepping over the threshold. ‘Half of London’s after me. If the law gets me looking like this, I’m going to have some explaining to do and if Big Alf’s men get me, I’ll be in the foundations of one of them new buildings they’re putting up all over the East End. I’ve just got to lie low until Billy sorts it all out.’
Suddenly the newspaper headlines made sense.
‘Tell me you weren’t involved in that chivving,’ I whispered, taking hold of him by the shoulders, knowing full well what the answer was. The damp, fetid air of the little hallway stuck in the back of my throat as I gasped: ‘Tell me you didn’t go and stripe that fella’s face!’
‘This is a war, Nell,’ he said.
‘The war with Germany is over but this is our war, right here on the streets of London and I’m a bloody good soldier.’
‘You did everything you could to get out of doing your duty in the Army, Jimmy!’ I cried. ‘You made up dodgy eyesight, flat feet and every other ailment you could bleeding well think of to keep your barrow and now you are fighting for the King of Soho as if you’re life depends on it. What the hell has got into you?’
He pulled a wad of bank notes from his pocket and handed them to me: ‘This.’
I stared at it. There was at least two hundred quid there, in used notes. It was a bleeding fortune. It was enough for us both to get out of Soho, just as he had promised.
Old Ma Harris started to stir from her afternoon nap in her bedroom right beside us: ‘Gypsy? Is that a fella I can hear?’
‘No, Mrs Harris,’ I said, ‘Just some kid playing Knock Down Ginger. I’ve sent him off with a flea in his ear. You go back to sleep.’
Jimmy lowered his voice as we made our way down the hall to the scullery: ‘It’s enough for us to make a fresh start, to rent a house together, start over. I did it for us, Nell.’
I shut the door and turned to him.
‘Oh, Jimmy,’ I said, ‘You bloody fool. They are going to throw the book at you. You’ll be looking at a seven for this, hard labour and everything. How can we be together, if you are in the nick?’
He was crushed by that.
‘I had no choice, don’t you see,’ he said, with a wild look in his eyes. ‘I’m in the gang, one of Billy’s Chaps, and he was testing me out with the biggest job he’s had for a very long time. I’m made in the gang because of this. The Chaps are already calling me Jimmy the Razor.’
‘And where are they now?’ I said, despairingly. ‘Where are they, your gangland mates? They’ve run back into the sewers where they belong, and they have hung you out to dry. I don’t see you banging on their doors. You’re right here, banging on mine.’
He stared at the floor: ‘They told me to lay low, until the heat is off, because their drums are the first place the cozzers will come looking. And I can’t go to Billy. It just ain’t done. That is not the way it works. I’ve got to keep him out of it. It’s a loyalty thing. It’s the gangland code. He’s the boss.’
Jimmy took off his blood-spattered coat, rolled up his sleeves and started to scrub himself clean in Gypsy’s dirty bath water.
Suddenly, the penny dropped for me.
‘It was in the paper, Jimmy, earlier on this morning. Billy Sullivan has set it up, so you will take the fall for him. He’s got an alibi and he’s got one of his posh politician chums to cover his back.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Jimmy, looking more like frightened child than a gangster on the run.
‘Billy Sullivan can distance himself from the attack on Big Alf and say it was nothing to do with him because he will say he was having dinner with other people that night,’ I said, flatly. ‘He’s taken out his rival by using you, but his hands are clean as far as the establishment are concerned. He has witnesses.’
‘How do you know that?’ he said. ‘Billy wouldn’t do that to me.’
‘Wouldn’t he?’ I said. ‘He’s running a fancy spieler in Mayfair; The Lucky Seven they call it. And the posh git who was in the paper calling for whoever done the chivving to be banged up in jail for a very long time was sitting next to Billy Sullivan all night playing cards. He was being taken for every penny while you were slashing Big Alf. He owes Billy big time and so he is going to dance to Billy’s tune, you mark my words.’
‘That’s bollocks,’ said Jimmy. ‘You’re just making this up. That is just dancers’ gossip from the dressing room, ain’t it?’
‘No, Jimmy,’ I said. ‘It is the truth.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was there, I saw it with my own eyes.’
‘What the hell were you doing there?’ he said, anger flashing across his face.
‘You are not the boss of me, Jim,’ I said. ‘You stood me up at the cinema remember? So, I went for a drink at The Windsor to drown my sorrows, if you must know, and I got roped into it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking crestfallen. ‘I was given the job, I had to see it through. I left flowers at the club, to apologise. I tried to do the right thing, honest I did. Didn’t you like them?’
‘Of course, I liked them,’ I lied. ‘I loved them but that is not the point.
‘Billy Sullivan used me too, as part of his alibi. He made me and Gypsy go to Mayfair to serve them all drinks. He gave me a new dress…’
His face fell, like I’d just smacked him in the jaw.
When he glanced up again, he was consumed by anger: ‘Did he touch you?’
‘You don’t own me, Jim!’ I spat. ‘It’s none of your business what he did or didn’t do and if that’s the way you are going to talk to me, you can get out now.’
I waggled my finger at him, the one with the diamond on it.
‘This ain’t your ring, and it never will be, let’s get that straight. It’s my ring, I earned it myself. No man will ever be the boss of me.’
‘I don’t want to be the boss of you, Nell. You are your own woman. I just didn’t want to think of him laying his hands on you, making you do things. I just
want to take care of you…’
I looked away and walked over to the kettle. Water sploshed from the tap, breaking the silence.
‘We’ve both been played by Billy Sullivan,’ I said, eventually.
‘I don’t want to lose you, Nell. I’m sorry, for everything. I was trying to show you I’m a man you can be proud of, a man worth marrying.’ Jimmy sank his head into his hands and began to shake: ‘I can’t go to prison, Nell. I don’t want to be locked up. I want to be with you. I want us to have the life we should have had with our baby, our firstborn, Joseph. I think about him all the time. I dream about him, Nell. I swear I can see his face every time I close my eyes.’
He was crying now, tears coursing down his face: ‘I want to have children with you, come home to you and feel you next to me in the bed, every night.
‘I want to see your face every morning and watch our kids run off to school and kiss them goodnight and keep them on the straight and narrow.’
I went to him and put my arms around his shoulders.
He pulled me close and the moment we kissed, all the desires and hope we had for our lost life together collided, in that grimy little scullery.
Jimmy wasn’t perfect by a long shot, but we came from the same streets, we understood one another and we weren’t out to fleece each other like everyone else in Soho; so perhaps he was perfect for me.
He carried me upstairs in his arms and laid me gently on the single bed. It wasn’t like the first time, in the back alley, when I was fumbling and excited and scared at the same time and he was leading me astray.
I unzipped my skirt and undid my blouse while he peeled my stockings down my thighs. Then I felt for him, urgently, wanting him inside me. I felt the hardness of him and the firmness of his body as he nudged his way into me. He brushed his fingers across my breasts, and I tingled at his touch.
‘Oh, Jimmy,’ I whispered.
We lay there, in the fading light of the afternoon, making love to each other, for the first time in our lives.
Outside in the street, the shouts of kids playing kick the can died away and the sun set over Soho.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
NELL
Soho, London, March 1947
Jimmy lay in a tangle of bedsheets, staring at the ceiling, as he lit another cigarette.
The muscles in his chest tightened as he stretched like a cat, before he turned to put an arm around my waist. His eyes sparkled, like they used to when we were courting, but he treated me differently now, gazing at me as if I was something so precious, he didn’t want to let me go.
‘You are a very beautiful woman, Nell,’ he murmured, nibbling my ear.
‘And you are a very wanted man,’ I said, pinching his cheek and wriggling myself free. ‘I’ve got to get to work, Jim, they’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.’
I pulled on my stockings and fastened my suspender belt, as he watched me, mesmerised.
‘I can’t believe Billy would rat me out,’ he said, eventually. ‘I just can’t believe it.’
‘It isn’t a case of ratting you out,’ I said, leaning in closer to kiss him again. ‘It’s about distancing himself from you, while getting the benefit of the dirty work you’ve done because the rival gang will be broken.
‘He doesn’t care if you do time in jail; he’s paid you off and you get the reputation in gangland, but he keeps his position as the King of Soho.’
It was as if a lightbulb had gone on, right over Jimmy’s head.
‘The Whites are his biggest threat, since the Italians were all but cleared out of London in the war,’ he said. ‘They were trying to muscle in, and Billy didn’t like it because Big Alf wouldn’t do a deal, ’cos it would have left him short-changed. The fella you saw in the carpet was just one of his foot soldiers.
‘We beat out of him where Big Alf would most likely be.’
‘So, Big Alf had to be publicly humiliated by being cut by one of Billy’s men,’ I said. ‘He’s lost his power now, no one will line up behind him. He’s a spent force.
‘But Billy keeps his hands clean and what’s more, he can even get toffs like Lord Dockworth to take the heat off him.’
‘How am I going to get out of this, Nell?’ said Jimmy, running his hands through his hair.
‘I’ll think of something, Jim,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a few tricks of my own up my sleeve to outfox Billy Sullivan.’
I was thinking about breaking into Billy’s office somehow, but I didn’t want to worry Jimmy with that because it was a dangerous plan. When I was in Holloway, I’d heard Rose talking about making a copy of a key using bathsoap.
I glanced around the room. Gypsy had a nice bar of scented soap on her dressing table and so I stuck that in my pocket.
I turned to Jimmy: ‘Jim, you can’t stay here. You’ll get me and Gypsy thrown out if the old bat downstairs hears you.’
‘I know,’ he said, propping himself up on his elbow. ‘I might be better across the water down around the Elephant. There are more places I can hide out there.’
‘So true,’ I said, with a giggle. ‘You did a bloody good job of hiding from me often enough. You were like the Scarlet Pimpernel of the fruit and veg stall!’
He pulled me to him, and I tumbled over on the bed.
‘I ain’t letting you go ever again, Nell,’ he said, his voice hoarse with longing.
‘We will meet again, Jim, just like the song says,’ I said, prising him off me. ‘But I really do need to get my skates on, or I’ll miss my singing slot.’
‘I’ll wait for a few hours then I’ll lift the latch and go,’ he said. ‘But I’m going to leave most of this here, for you, for safekeeping.’
He handed me the wodge of notes. ‘This is the start of our new life together, Nell. I mean it,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens, keep it safe. For us.’
That evening, I strolled into the club and slap bang into Billy Sullivan, who was propping up the bar, dressed in an immaculate suit, as always.
‘You’re late,’ he said. ‘I was about to send out a search party. Everything alright?’
I felt his eyes travelling over my body and it revolted me and thrilled me at the same time. I tried not to think about that because it seemed so disloyal to Jimmy. Billy was like a virus, coursing through my veins, and I just wanted it to burn itself out.
‘Fancy a drink before you go on?’ he said, pouring me a glass of champagne.
I accepted it and sat beside him, sipping at it.
‘I read some interesting headlines this morning,’ I said, sweetly. ‘I saw your friend Lord Dockworth in the paper talking about the dangers on our streets after that razor attack.’
He flinched, just slightly, as a few punters started ear-wigging.
‘Dreadful business,’ said Billy, loudly enough for them to overhear. ‘I was just having some drinks with friends that night. It was a very convivial evening as I recall. But then you know that, because you were there, weren’t you, sweetheart?’
He put his hand around my waist, firmly.
I leaned my head towards his shoulder and whispered in his ear: ‘I heard Jimmy’s in the frame for the attack on Big Alf. But you know that anyway, don’t you?’
His eyes were like molten lead as he murmured: ‘You watch your mouth.’
‘You don’t scare me, Billy, because I know you cheat at cards,’ I said, under my breath.
The next thing I knew, he’d pulled me to my feet and was steering me across the club, in the direction of his office.
‘Keeping playing,’ he barked at the pianist, who was looking confused because I was due to start singing. ‘This won’t take long.’ Alma and the dancers sighed and started another high-kicking routine.
Billy frogmarched me up the dank corridor and into his office, slamming the door shut. He turned to me, with a face like thunder.
‘What in the name of God do you think you are playing at?’
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ I shot back. ‘You used me and
you used Jimmy! You don’t care about him, even though he is loyal to you. You’ve got to help him get out of the frame for this razor attack,’ I said.
He seized my wrists and held me tight: ‘You don’t tell me what to do, Nell. No woman ever tells me what to do. And you have no idea about my feelings for you, so don’t presume that you do.’
Just as suddenly, he let go of me, turned his back and walked around to the desk, running his hands through his hair. As he did so, I slipped his office key off the desk and into my pocket. I had Gypsy’s bath-soap in there and I pushed the key into it, as hard as I could, praying that it would leave an imprint.
Billy was pouring himself a whisky, as I quietly sneaked the key back onto the edge of his leather topped desk, my pulse quickening with the fear of being discovered.
‘But what about Jimmy?’ I said, trying to calm my nerves.
‘What about him? He’s paid well, he knows the risks, he’s one of the gang,’ he said, watching me closely.
‘But if he goes to prison…’
‘That seems very likely, wouldn’t you say?’ he smiled at me, that toothy grin of his, as he sat down. ‘He will do his bird and I will make sure he gets paid a salary when he comes out. Jimmy’s one of the little people, a foot soldier if you will. He knows his role.’
‘But he thought he was on to something big…’
‘Turns out he was, he’s all over the papers. And that’s before we get to the court case,’ Billy laughed.
I turned away in disgust.
‘Nell, with things the way they are after the war, people want to see the streets of Soho being cleaned up. They need to know that people who wield razors go to prison, and that is what they will get.
‘Alf White and his mob aren’t going to be a trouble to anyone anymore. People can feel safe under my protection and I can keep a handle on things. That’s what the cozzers want, that’s what I want. It’s how things work.’
‘But Jimmy believed in you…’
‘I know you’re fond of Jimmy,’ he began.
‘You know nothing,’ I shouted.
‘Let me finish!’ He slammed his hand on the table, hard.