by Martina Cole
Lenny shouted from the small hallway as he took off his overcoat, ‘That smells fucking handsome, Shaz. I could eat a scabby horse between two mattresses.’
She smiled. He said the same thing nearly every night, even when her food had been an absolute disaster, but she loved him for it.
He washed his hands in the bathroom and then made his way into the kitchen. The house was spotless, and the table was laid like a restaurant: napkins, the works. She was funny like that, his Sharon – she even refused to have red sauce in the house. She said it was common. He had to go along with it. The house was her domain.
The pie and mash, peas and gravy looked delicious. She was getting to be a really good cook. Even his mum was impressed, and that wasn’t an easy thing to accomplish. As his dad was often heard to say, she would have found fault at the Last Supper.
They chatted amiably and ate together in complete harmony. Sharon wasn’t a girl who forced opinions on you; she was quiet, willing to listen to her husband’s chatter. But Lenny knew there was steeliness inside her. If she thought she was in the right she would not back down. It was one of the things he loved about her.
‘Here, Len, Isaac is thinking of selling the betting office. He’s had enough, I think. He is getting on, bless him.’
Lenny stopped chewing at her words. ‘How much does he want for it?’
Sharon shrugged. ‘I dunno. Why?’
Lenny grinned. ‘Just wondered, that’s all. It’s a nice little earner.’
Sharon opened her blue eyes wide as she said, ‘It’s that, all right. I should know, I do the takings.’ She carried on eating, her lovely face intent on her food.
‘Listen, Shaz. I have a bit of business tonight. I will be out late. But it will bring in a good few quid.’
Sharon nodded. ‘Okey-doke.’
He smiled. He loved that she never questioned him. She accepted everything he said at face value. Most girls would have wanted the ins and outs of the cat’s arse. Where you going? Who with? How long will you be out?
‘I will be back as soon as possible, babe, you know that.’
She smiled again and nodded happily. ‘I know that, Len. I’m going to have a long bubble bath and an early night. I feel tired today.’
He was immediately concerned. ‘You all right, babe? I can stay here, darling.’
She rolled her eyes in irritation. ‘I’m pregnant, not suffering from fucking terminal cancer. I’m just tired, mate. Plus I want to watch Dempsey and Makepeace without you making remarks all the time.’
He laughed at her, she was such a strong character. ‘OK. If you’re sure, mate.’
She cut him another huge piece of steak and kidney pie as she said, ‘I will be fine. Just you be careful, OK?’
He nodded. She knew he wasn’t going out to wish anyone well. She was aware he was up to some kind of skulduggery, and she was a woman who understood that the less she knew about his nefarious businesses the better. She was a real fucking diamond was his Sharon, and he couldn’t believe his luck.
Chapter Fourteen
Billy Mason was a man who always had to have just that little bit more. No matter how good the earn, he always felt it should be greater. Greed was a prerequisite for a criminal lifestyle, but that depended who you were nicking from. Banks, building societies, big houses or Post Offices were seen as fair game. Council flats were seen as off limits, unless you were a junkie piece of shit. No one with half a brain nicked off their own. Billy Mason should have known that better than anyone – he had been in the Life long enough.
But Billy lived by his own rules; he prided himself on that fact. He also had a belief in his own God-given right to take any earn that he saw fit. He was confident that the men he worked alongside were too frightened of him and his reputation to even consider giving him the hard word. He was happy with his life, and he was coining it in.
Billy Mason’s big mistake was that he was a creature of habit. A large man with a beer gut and Denis Healey eyebrows, he wasn’t exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer, but what Billy had going for him was money and a sense of humour. He could laugh a woman into bed. He genuinely loved them – all shapes and sizes. He could find something complimentary to say to any woman he came across, even if it was only that she had nice eyes or a good set of teeth. He frequented Tiffany’s in Ilford every Thursday for Grab-A-Granny night, or if you were a female, Grab-A-Granddad.
As he tripped out of his house in Manor Park, bathed, shaved and smelling of Old Spice, he was nonplussed to see young Lenny Scott on his doorstep.
Lenny smiled graciously and said respectfully, ‘Sorry, Billy. Can I come in a sec, mate? I need to discuss a rob I heard about. Thought you might be interested, like.’
Billy Mason was always up for a rob of any kind, and he liked this kid. Smiling, he said jovially, ‘’Course, son.’
He held the front door open and followed the lad inside. Billy’s house was like him – old but well looked after, all Axminster carpets and Dralon furniture, smelling vaguely of beeswax polish and Flash liquid.
Lenny went into the through lounge-diner with him; it was a typical Ilford house – practically on the pavement and no garden to speak of. High ceilings, though, and nice cornices, with the original fireplaces. Lenny approved of it.
Billy was eager to get going – it was nearly half past ten, and all the birds would be turning up at Tiffany’s after the pub. It was free for women before ten thirty. He liked to get in early and stake his claim. Still, he was all smiles as he asked, ‘Is this the robbery at Lloyds Bank in the high street? Because I never shit on my own doorstep.’
Lenny sighed heavily, and slipped an iron bar out of the sleeve of his raincoat.
Seeing it, Billy shouted angrily, ‘You cheeky little fucker!’
Billy Mason could have a row, no one would dispute that. But young Lenny Scott could have a better one. He concentrated on the man’s eyes and legs. When he left twenty minutes later, Billy Mason was barely functioning.
Lenny stopped at a phone box and called an ambulance; he had left Billy’s front door ajar so they could gain entrance. He went to a mate’s and washed up there – burned his clothes and changed into a new set.
He was home and in bed by twelve fifteen. He hugged his young wife to him, and she snuggled into him naturally as she slept contentedly in his arms.
Chapter Fifteen
Jack Johnson was over the fucking moon. The fact that Lenny had done a perfect job was just the icing on the cake – carrying it out that same night was an even more pleasing surprise. Lenny Scott just did what he was told, no questions asked. Not yet twenty years old and he had the nerves of an old hand. From what Jack could gather, old Billy Boy was half-blind and would walk like he was on a fucking carousel for the rest of his life.
That was the result he wanted. Never leave an enemy with the means to come back at you, but make them serve as a reminder to everyone just what your retribution would be if they decided to fuck you over. Billy Mason was a treacherous cunt. Jack had given him a serious earn but he had always suspected that Billy Mason would one day want more; he was a greedy ponce. Well, he would regret his covetous nature now. Jack took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, but it still rankled. He had trusted Billy once. He had given him a good lifestyle but that had not been enough for him: he still wanted the main chance.
Lenny drove into the yard, satisfied. He was happy with his night’s work, and felt that he had done a good job. He had liked Billy Mason, but he had been given a task and he had done it to the best of his ability. He hoped that Jack was pleased with him, though he was suddenly filled with trepidation as he walked into his office. Maybe he’d gone too far. But he had been asked to teach the man a lesson and he had done just that.
Jack was smiling as if he’d just won the pools and Lenny immediately relaxed.
‘You fucking little fucker!’ Jack was out of his seat and pulling out a chair for Lenny. ‘Sit down, son, you earned it.’
; Lenny Scott was embarrassed; he had not expected this. Jack Johnson appreciated the boy’s reticence – he wasn’t crowing about his job like many others who would have given him a blow-by-blow account, acting like it had been a fucking royal event, trying to prove they were indispensable. Young Lenny just did it, and that was that. He had seen this boy’s potential and Jack loved it when he was proved right.
‘You’ve done good, Lenny. I’m impressed. I told you what I wanted and you did it without fear or favour.’
Lenny smiled sheepishly.
‘Who did you bring on board?’
Lenny frowned. ‘No one. I thought this was best kept in-house, so to speak.’
Jack grinned; this was just getting better and better as far as he was concerned. ‘What, you did it on your Jack Jones?’
Lenny nodded. ‘’Course, Jack. I wasn’t sure you would want it done mob-handed, like. It was just me. I gave him the business, though. He ain’t going anywhere for a long time.’
Jack Johnson sat back in his comfortable chair and wondered at a lad like this; he was clearly a fucking one-man war machine. Billy Mason was no easy mark. He could take care of himself – that was why he had worked for Jack in the first place.
‘Well, Lenny, I can’t tell you how fucking impressed I am. Especially as you went all on your tod. I want you to know that I won’t forget this. I am going to bung you a serious drink – ten grand cash. And, listen to me, son, if you ever need anything you just have to talk to me, all right? I will give you the earth on a plate. You proved yourself to me, mate, not just as a worker, but also as a man I would be honoured to have running my businesses.’
Lenny Scott felt almost tearful at Jack’s words. This was what he had dreamed of, what he had always wanted – the big in, the rite of passage.
‘I think the world of you, Jack, you know that. You gave me the opportunity to have a serious earn. I will never forget it.’
Jack Johnson looked at the huge young man sitting before him. The lad was humble, he was grateful. And evidently he was also a dangerous little fuck.
‘Son, listen to me. You’re on the road to greatness, and I want you right beside me.’
Lenny nodded his huge head, and he smiled as he said, ‘Thank you, Jack. Appreciate that.’
Jack Johnson looked at Lenny Scott and thanked Christ and all the saints for dropping this boy into his lap and not someone else’s.
Chapter Sixteen
Ivy Conway was fit to be tied and her daughter was already sick of listening to her.
‘He apparently crippled a man, nearly blinded him. It is all over the pavement.’
Sharon Scott sighed. Lenny had explained everything to her, as he had guessed she would hear about it eventually. He had shown her the ten grand cash and said that it was just a means to an end, that Billy Mason had had Jack over and it was a lesson needed. It had all sounded very reasonable the way that Lenny explained it. At least that is what she chose to tell herself anyway, even if there was a bit of her that found it very frightening. But it was her husband’s business not hers, and the sooner her mother realised that, the better for everyone.
She turned on Ivy and shouted, ‘Oh, give it a rest! It’s his fucking job. If you want to keep coming round, Mum, my advice to you is to keep your opinions to yourself. Lenny is my husband. I love him, and I will not hear a bad word about him, OK?’
Ivy Conway was so shocked she actually stepped away from her daughter.
‘I mean it, Mum. He is trying to give us a good life. You know as well as I do that he works for Jack Johnson, and that means he will never be a choirboy.’
Ivy Conway looked at her beautiful daughter and realised that she had lost her. Her beautiful baby was as caught up in Lenny Scott’s world as he was. She also knew that no good could come from it; everyone had to pay the price for their sins one day. Sharon looked into her mum’s eyes as she said seriously, ‘I mean it, Mum. Lenny is my family now. I will not have a word said against him.’
Chapter Seventeen
Lenny Scott’s standing in his community had only grown since the incident with Billy Mason. He felt himself how everyone he came into contact with treated him with respect. But Lenny, being Lenny, didn’t let it go to his head and that too was noticed and appreciated. He still gave people their due, and that was something the men in his world really did respect. Too many had made enemies when they had gained their reputations. It was a pleasure when a person remembered that good manners cost fuck-all, and it went a long way.
Lenny was at the betting office picking up his wife, and Isaac was all smiles as he invited him into the office for a chat. Lenny was only too pleased to accommodate the old man – he had been very good to his Sharon.
‘You know I am selling up?’
Lenny nodded. ‘Yeah, Sharon said. Nice little earner. I wouldn’t mind it myself.’
Isaac grinned. ‘Good. Because it’s yours, son.’
Lenny looked bewildered. ‘Sorry?’
Isaac grinned again, and he was genuinely pleased as he said, ‘It is a gift, from Jack Johnson. It will be all yours by the end of the month.’
‘Fucking hell!’
Isaac laughed delightedly as he said, ‘I hope they do, son. I ain’t had much fucking luck up here.’
Chapter Eighteen
Big Lenny Scott was made up for his son. He was so young and he already had the world by its balls. Big Lenny was as proud as punch. Lesley, on the other hand, was, as usual, the prophet of doom.
‘I can’t believe it, Dad, it’s all in my name. It’s mine – well, mine and Sharon’s, obviously. She will run it, you know, do the day-to-day. It’s a fucking right little earner. I reckon we will be able to start looking at houses within the year.’
Lesley looked at this son of hers who she loved with all her heart, and feared that she’d lost him to the Life. ‘So, you get this betting office for nearly killing a man, is that it?’
Lenny looked at his mother and said quietly, ‘Yeah, Mum, that’s about the strength of it. But do you know what? I am going to tell you what Sharon told her mum. Keep your fucking nose out. I don’t live here any more. I’m a grown man with a family and I will earn for my wife and my kid in any way I can.’
He looked at his father, pleased to see that he was of the same mind. Nevertheless, Big Lenny chastised him. ‘No need to swear at your mother, son. But I admit you are in the right. I admire you. You’re a big lump with a quick brain. A lethal combination in our game. I’m made up for you.’
Lenny grinned. ‘This is just the start, Dad. I really love my job, you know. Jack Johnson’s so good to me. I trust him. He’s a good man, a decent man.’
As Lesley watched her husband and son talking, she realised that her boy was as far gone from her as if he had been struck dead. That he could talk to her like that! Her husband was acting like he was the Christ Child, and everyone was treating her as if she was visiting royalty. She was devastated. Her handsome son had had the brains to go to university, and he had thrown it all away. Now he was a thug, no more and no less. And a vicious thug at that.
He had crippled a man and he had not even had the excuse of the drink. Keith had been because of alcohol – she had made herself believe that. But this last one she couldn’t justify to herself, however hard she tried.
She watched as her son talked about his plans, and she wondered at a future that was based on violence. Never in her life had she felt so low, so disgusted with her family. Even Sharon, who had turned a blind eye to what Lenny had become. It was as if Lesley had never really known her son. Her dreams were dead, and all she had now was the promise of a grandchild to give her any hope for the future.
Chapter Nineteen
Ivy was delighted with things. After her initial shock at the Billy Mason incident, she had done what Sharon had asked and accepted the situation. If she was honest, it was mainly because Ivy was enjoying her newfound celebrity as Sharon Scott’s mother. She loved the way people who had never given her
the time of day before broke their necks to ask how she was and how her daughter was. It was heady stuff.
Sharon was on her time now, and she looked amazing. She still had a tiny bump and loads of energy. She was training up a girl to manage the shop while she was off with the baby, but she was saying how she would be in and out, keeping her eye on ‘the business’, as she called it. It was a dream come true in many respects. Just eighteen and she had a lucrative career and the world at her feet.
Ivy would always have her reservations about Lenny Scott but, in fairness to him, he had the makings of a good provider. He was a nice lad and he loved her girl – that was evident.
‘I can’t believe it, Mum. And Isaac, bless him, kept it quiet. He is made up for me and my Lenny. Reckons I can run the place with my eyes closed. Said I was a natural because I can work out the bets in me head. But, honestly, once you get the knack, it’s easy as pie.’
Ivy looked at her husband and they laughed together for once. It was good to see their girl so animated and so happy.
‘You got a fucking good one there, girl, but I don’t need to tell you that.’
Del Conway had asked around and he knew that young Lenny wasn’t putting it about; he had nothing but a good rep in every way. For all the boy’s grandiose notions, if he hurt his girl, Del would shoot the fucker dead – that was a given. His daughter was his flesh and blood, and no one would ever make a cunt out of her, no matter who they were. The hardest fuck in the world couldn’t argue with a gun. He genuinely liked young Lenny and, as long as taking care of Del’s baby girl was his main agenda, they would get along like a proverbial house on fire.
‘We can start looking at houses now, because we have a legitimate earn, like. It is so exciting.’