The other two nodded in agreement; then Max, touching on a lighter subject, said, ‘Glad to have the nipper back, Mrs Leviston?’ There was a grin on his face.
‘Very glad, Max.’
‘Has he been behavin’ himself?’
‘Well—’ I slanted my gaze at him now and pointedly said, ‘It all depends, Max, on what you mean by behaving himself.’
He took my point and said, ‘Like that is it, Mrs Leviston?’
‘Like that, Max,’ I said.
And at this the three men laughed and Tommy said, ‘For my part, I always think the English language is very dull; it needs a bit of colour.’
‘You’re right there.’ Rodney was nodding at him now. ‘And I think the youngster’ll always bring a little colour in his chatter. Trust him.’
And now I put in quickly, ‘And if I may say so, Rodney, I trust you not to help him, or any of you.’
‘Oh, Mrs Leviston.’ The heads were wagging, the grins were wide, and Max’s widened still further when I said, ‘As for you, Max, we’ll have to have a talk.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.’ He took on the attitude of a child to a teacher, and the laughter from the three of them caused heads to turn …
Two hours later we were back in the court again; the jury filed in; the foreman was standing; you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. The judge’s clerk asked the foreman of the jury, ‘Do you find the accused guilty or not guilty?’
‘Guilty on all charges, my Lord.’
‘And is that the verdict of you all?’
‘It is, my Lord.’
The three men in the dock remained still for a moment; then the boxer and the thin man bent their heads deeply, only the one who acted as chauffeur remained straight, there was even a smile round the corners of his lips. I could understand that woman being afraid of him.
The judge was speaking again, first to the jury.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I want to thank you for the care and attention which you have given to this case. Lest any of you may have any lingering doubts as to the correctness of your verdict let me say that it is overwhelmingly supported by the evidence. The accused have already been found guilty by another jury of serious offences involving drug running which has had dire repercussions on thousands of lives. They were distributors of heroin and LSD, and when they were finally apprehended they had in their possession drugs with a street value in the region of two million pounds. I have had some despicable creatures stand before me in the dock in my time but never have I faced any as low as the three before me now. On their own admission they drugged this young woman and although she was unable to resist them they knew that she was quite conscious and would be in a state of terror when they cold-bloodedly tossed her over a high cliff trusting that the turn of the tide would take her body out with it and so cover up their dreadful deed. Fortunately the tide did not do as they had planned but the injuries which she sustained in the fall almost succeeded in ending her life.’
The judge now turned his attention to the three men in the dock addressing each of them by name: ‘William Smith, Thomas Robberton, and Daniel Foxbrown, on the charge of abduction and attempted murder I sentence each of you to life imprisonment to run not less than twenty years, and on the charge of drug trafficking, I sentence each of you to ten years imprisonment to run concurrently.’
There was no word or movement now from the dock, and the warders led the men down to the cells.
The woman remained in the dock. There were two women warders, one on each side of her seemingly to support her, and the judge, looking at her, said, ‘Elizabeth Myter, on the charge of harbouring drugs and assisting in their distribution, I sentence you to five years imprisonment. And on the charge of being associated with the three male accused and having knowledge of their intention to commit murder and in no way endeavouring to stop them, which you could have done by an anonymous phone call to the police, I sentence you to five years, the sentences to run concurrently.’
Did I feel pity as I watched the woman being helped from the dock? No, I didn’t, for she hadn’t really been concerned with what would happen to me, only that it didn’t happen on her premises …
It was over. Or was it? In the hall I came under a barrage of cameras and reporters, and when I found the Mohican pushed to my side and a camera lined up to snap us, the Mohican swiftly turned his back and stood in front of me; and there we were, close, and our faces almost touching. The next minute he had gone, pushing his way through reporters, and Tommy was shielding me with the help of Janet’s three boys as we made our way to the car.
Once inside, I lay back and thought for a moment that this was the time when I was actually going to pass out; and then I told myself not to be silly, it was all over.
‘You’ll soon be home,’ Tommy’s voice was soothing, calm, reassuring. It wiped the Mohican’s face from my vision.
Janet, Harold and Sandy, were waiting for me. Harold grabbed my hand, Sandy jumped all over me, and Janet said, ‘Well?’ and Tommy answered for me, saying, ‘Life for the three of them, the woman five years.’
‘Good. Good.’
A few minutes later, seated in the drawing room, a drink in my hand, I looked up at Janet and said, ‘The lads were there.’
‘Yes, I know; they said they were goin’. Max has got a job an’ all at last. I said he was riskin’ things to take a day off but he said he wasn’t going to miss it. Did … did you see John?’
‘Yes. Yes, he was there.’
‘Did the lads see him?’
‘Yes, I think they did, but they didn’t speak.’
‘No, I told them to keep clear of him ’cos I wouldn’t put it past them to have a go at him ’cos of our Hilda. Well, I’ll get you somethin’ to eat; I bet you’re starvin’.’
I did not say food was the last thought in my mind; and when she left the room and Harold, standing before Tommy and me where we sat on the couch, said flatly, ‘I liked the Indian,’ I almost burst into tears.
And it was Tommy who said, ‘So did we; we were very fond of him,’ and he took my hand and looked hard at me and said, ‘Isn’t that so?’
‘Yes, yes,’ I answered; ‘we were very fond of him.’
Tommy was no fool.
Seven
It was a Friday towards the end of March, the twenty-ninth to be exact. Tomorrow I was to be married to Tommy and, as on the day I married Nardy, Gran and George were with me. They had arrived late last night. George had definitely intended to be present, but, apparently, Gran had deliberated, her excuse being, there were so many things to see to, with Kitty once more in hospital having another grafting, and Mary needing company at this time. And then there was the club: she was running an outing due to take place next week, the first one of the season. Oh, there were so many things she had to see to. Nevertheless, here she was; but keeping clear of the kitchen, for, as she had plainly stated, she couldn’t stand that Janet: uppish she was, and her only a servant.
It was the word uppish applied to Janet that gave me the idea. And when I thought of Janet’s family, the word caused me to gurgle inside. And I had been gurgling a lot inside of late. I was feeling so much better: I could walk without the aid of a stick; I had no more pains, either in my stomach, leg, arm, or head. Oh, my head was very clear now; and I had turned to my writing again.
But now I was determined to do something about Gran and her animosity towards Janet and Londoners in general. She was now sitting in the drawing room turning up the hem of her coat which she considered too long. Tommy, who had last week started a month’s holiday, and had spent his time between dashing in to see me, getting rid of his flat, and visiting the boat on which we were to spend the first three days of our honeymoon, the idea being that Captain Lee would take it to a mooring somewhere down the Thames, leave us on our own for three days, then bring Harold to join us before we set off to cross the Channel—fearful thought to me—and, as he said, meander around the French countryside just a
s the boat’s previous owners had been wont to do every year.
So now I went into the kitchen and Janet greeted me with, ‘I’ve cleared the two shelves in the pantry and the top half of the fridge for them caterers to put the iced things in. Now I’ll clear the dresser … ’
‘Janet.’
‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘Will you do something for me?’
‘Well now’—she turned fully towards me—‘I don’t think you’ve got to ask that, ever, unless it’s somethin’ that nobody else in my position could do, such as drive a bus, or pilot a plane.’ She was laughing heartily now.
‘I think it’s going to be harder than either of those things.’
‘Yes?’ She poked her head forward in enquiry.
‘Sit down.’
She sat down, and I sat down, and after looking at her for a moment I said, ‘Will you take Gran along to your house tonight and introduce her to your family?’
‘Wh … at!’
It was so like my wh … at that I laughed and said, ‘You heard.’
‘Gran? Me! She … she can’t stand the sight of me, that woman, she’s … ’
‘She thinks you’re stuck-up.’
‘Wh … at! Me?’ She was digging her finger into her chest now while her face spread wide in laughter and amazement. ‘Me, stuck-up, with our lot? How could anybody be stuck-up with our lot? Now I ask you, ma’am?’
‘Well, I know that, but she doesn’t; she’s never met any of your family. She’s got this thing about southerners, and I think she’s only got to meet Max, and Billy, and Joe, and the rest, and she’ll change her mind. Quite candidly I think she’ll call them her cup of tea.’
‘And what about me? She’ll still think the same about me.’
‘No, she’ll not. I’m sure she won’t when she sees you among your family.’
‘Oh ma’am, I couldn’t do it. How could I go up to her and ask her?’
‘You could.’ I pulled a face at her. ‘You can be very diplomatic when you like.’
‘Huh! Diplomatic. I don’t even know the meanin’ of the word. As for being it, how could anybody be diplomatic with our crew? Everything comes straight out.’ She covered her eyes with her hand and her shoulders shook as she said, ‘Oh! But you know, ma’am, I’d like to see her in our kitchen, yes I would, and Georgie an’ all. But Georgie’s different.’ She was looking at me again. Her eyes were moist and mine were too as I replied, ‘Yes, Georgie’s different. He’s been about a bit, has Georgie. He’s always the same, no matter who he’s with, king or commoner.’
‘Yes, I like him. Our lads and ’im would get on all right together, but … ’
‘Yes,’ I put in, ‘like a house on fire. Well, what about it?’
‘Well, give me time; I’ll have to think about it. Well, how will I say it? How will I approach ’er?’
‘As you say, think about it.’
I got up and left her still seated, her face cupped in her hands now but twisted up with laughter …
Gran finished her coat; we had lunch. I said I was going to rest for an hour and she should do the same. I went into my room, not only to give Janet a chance to speak to her alone, but I really did want to rest or rather to think of tomorrow and the step I was taking. I wasn’t afraid of it; I knew I’d be happy with Tommy, safe, secure, and I didn’t mean money-wise.
I’d always considered that I knew myself: I’d had plenty of time years ago to get to know the person inside my plain frame, to probe into her mind and understand the reason why she said this or did that. When I’d fallen in love with Nardy it had been the first time I had experienced love, and during the comparatively short time we spent together I had seen myself as a very sensible and matter-of-fact individual; my emotions ran on straight paths: I loved, I disliked and I hated. Oh, yes, I hated. I hated Stickle, although he was in prison and could not possibly do me any more harm, for twelve years that is. That was my first mistake. The second was when I imagined that my emotions could not be drawn away from their central point: I was too sensible to be affected by an attractive voice, two deep brown eyes, and a personality that at first was a mystery and then became attached to somebody who was very brave; only to respond finally to this like any young girl without the experience of life, of good men or bad. The Mohican had become Sir Percy Blakeney, the modern Scarlet Pimpernel.
I had thought about him a great deal after the court case when, for a moment, our faces almost touched. But Tommy’s love had gradually pushed him into the background. And now I rarely thought of him except when I saw Hilda. Hilda was doing what she said she would do, making something of herself. Janet often gave me a progress report on her and always ended up by saying, ‘Oh! I never thought to see the day when Hilda would become sensible.’ And with the last report she said, ‘She beats May now. She’ll go some place yet, our Hilda. Funny how things turn out: if it hadn’t been for that fellow she would have still been the dimwit I always thought her.’
So much for a mother’s opinion of her offspring.
I lay thinking about tomorrow, not about the wedding, or Tommy, but about how the company would mix, because the whole of Janet’s family would be at the reception. And then nearly all of Tommy’s friends from the office, some of them, no doubt, who had attended my marriage to Nardy. And, of course, Mike and Jane.
There were sixty people invited all told. The flat would take them, but would they take each other? Well, that was up to them; we wouldn’t be here after the first hour or so.
I closed my eyes and softly I said, ‘I’m doing right, Nardy, aren’t I?’ And his reply seemed to come to me, ‘Of course you are, dear. As Tommy said, I wanted it this way.’
I had lulled myself almost into sleep when Gran’s voice came at the door, saying, ‘Can I come in, lass?’
‘Yes. Yes, Gran.’
As I pulled myself up on the bed she almost skipped towards me, her wrinkled face stretched wide. She sat down with a plop on the side of the bed and she flapped her hand at me as she said, ‘You’ll never believe it, not in a month of Sundays.’
‘Believe what in a month of Sundays?’
‘Her! Her in the kitchen, Janet.’
‘Oh, my goodness!’ I pretended to be upset and I closed my eyes and put my hand to my brow; and this brought quickly from her, ‘Now, now, it’s all right. Don’t get yourself in a tizzy; I’m not goin’ to blow me top about anything. But listen, just listen, will you?’
I took my hand away and said, ‘Yes, all right, I’m listening.’
She laughed now and her body began to shake. And then she said, ‘She’s asked me and Georgie along to her place the night.’
‘Wh … at?’ It was my old wh … at.
‘Aye, you might say “What?” Her askin’ me along. I tell you, I couldn’t answer her until she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. You mightn’t like it, you see we’re rather rough and ready.” Then I thought to meself: What? Her lot rough and ready?’
I put in here, as I shook my head at her. ‘I’ve told you before, Gran, that … ’
‘Yes, I know you’ve told me afore, but there’s rough and ready and rough and ready, and I imagine very rough an’ ready comin’ out of that one.’
‘Well’—I shrugged my shoulders—‘you’ve seen Harold.’
‘Yes, but he’s a bairn and he’s been knocked from dog to devil and so that’s understandable. And it isn’t only workin’ men that swear, the nobs can do their share, my God, don’t I know it! There’s the Tweddles that live two doors down from our Georgie. He’s supposed to vote Conservative but you should hear him. As our Georgie said, he’s worse on a Sunday in the pub, ’cos then his talk comes out under blasphemy.’
I again put my hand to my brow, and as I did so I said, ‘Well, are you going?’
She drew in her lips and wagged her head from side to side, saying, ‘Well, as I said to her, if you didn’t need me an’ our Georgie, we could slip in for an hour. Anyway’—she now poked her face close to mine—�
�I want to see what the set-up is. She’s always so damn particular here: everything in its place an’ a place for everything.’
‘Well, that’s how I want it.’
‘Oh, she’d be like that if you didn’t want it.’
‘Don’t forget, as I’ve told you, Gran, she worked for Nardy’s mother from she was a young girl. She nursed Nardy from a ba … ’
‘Aye, aye, aye, I’ve heard all that afore. Anyway, I’ll know more the night, won’t I?’ Her eyebrows moved up to her dyed hair, then she asked quietly, ‘I won’t have to get dressed up, will I?’
‘Oh, no!’ My voice was emphatic. ‘Good gracious, no!’
‘Well, what I meant was, put on me suit that I’ve got for the morrow.’
‘No, of course not. You’re keeping that, surely. Just your ordinary frock and coat.’
‘Yes. Well’—she rose from the bed—‘I wonder what our Georgie’ll say.’
What Georgie said was, ‘Never, Maisie! She’s accepted a booking to go round to Janet’s. Can you believe it?’
‘Not quite, Georgie.’
‘I’m expected to go with her. Mind, I thought old Tommy would be havin’ a bachelor do, but he tells me no. He said he’s had experience of them and he wants a clear head for the morrow, else you could walk out on him at the last minute.’ He now chucked me under the chin, saying, ‘You wouldn’t do that, would you? He’s a nice lad. You’ve been lucky, you know, in a way, lass: two good fellas like that; they don’t often come in pairs, good fellas.’
‘No, they don’t, Georgie. I’ve known three good fellows, four in fact. The first one was called Georgie.’
‘Aw! Go away with you.’ He pushed me from him, then pulled me back to him with his arm around my shoulder.
‘Then there was Mike.’
‘Oh aye, Mike.’
Musingly now, he said, ‘She’s like a cat with nine tails, would you believe it? ’Cos she’s hated the sight of that woman, you know, never stopped talkin’ about her back home. Eeh, she’s a marler! By! Altogether, women are queer cattle. All except you, hinny.’ Then he changed the subject abruptly by exclaiming, ‘Eeh, that boat! God above! I’ve never seen owt like it. An’ you’re goin’ on your honeymoon on her. You know, lass, when I look back on your life, it’s like something you’d see on the pictures, so much has happened to you. As Mam says, you’re hardly ever out of the papers. But here’s one that doesn’t mind. They say back at the depot: “Your lass is in the papers again I see.” Do you know that? You’re known as … my lass.’
Harold Page 22