East End Jubilee

by Carol Rivers

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I looked out the window after it drove off. There’s a big hole in the glass where the bricks came through.’

  ‘So they really have gone?’ Rose was still suspicious even though she knew Will was telling her the truth.

  ‘Yes. Honestly.’

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ Her legs collapsed under her and she sank down on the stairs, the little wooden chair falling out of her hands against the banister.

  ‘Rose, are you all right?’ Em called shrilly.

  ‘Mummy! Mummy!’ The two girls rushed towards her. Suddenly they were all clinging together, arms locked, faces wet with tears of relief. She pulled them against her tightly choking back her own sobs as Em and Will crouched on the stairs and they all trembled together like one big jelly.

  ‘Mummy, I was ever so scared.’ Donnie lifted her face and Rose kissed her forehead.

  ‘So was I,’ Marlene sniffed. ‘I thought it was Old Nick.’

  Rose murmured in confusion, ‘Old Nick?’

  ‘Yeah,’ nodded Marlene staunchly, her curly hair flowing over her shoulders like brilliant tongues of flame. ‘Or sometimes in the Bible he’s called Beeslebub.’

  ‘Be-el-ze-bub,’ Donnie corrected, giving a little hiccup. ‘You always get it wrong.’

  ‘It was only me anyway,’ said Will, remarkably calm. ‘I just heard this crash and another one, so I got under the covers.’

  ‘Are you hurt, love?’ Em smothered him in kisses and squashed his face in her hands as they sat on the stairs.

  ‘No, I’m okay.’ Embarrassed, Will shrank against the wall and the two girls’ tears soon turned into giggles.

  ‘Well, you could have been badly cut or knocked out by the bricks.’ Em turned to Rose. ‘What happened? I woke up in a start and the next thing I knew you were standing at the top of the stairs holding a chair above your head and shrieking like a lunatic.’

  ‘I was going to stop whoever it was coming up the stairs.’

  ‘It was only me, Auntie Rose.’

  ‘I know that now, love,’ Rose said shakily. ‘But as you’ve slept in so many places in this house and in the yard, I forgot you were downstairs. I thought the men in the car had broken in.’

  Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the door. The knocking turned into a pounding and then there were voices. Lots of voices.

  ‘That’s Uncle Benny and Auntie Anita,’ Donnie cried. ‘And David and Alan.’

  ‘They must have heard the glass go,’ Em said and they all tried to get down the stairs to open the front door.

  Rose went back upstairs to Matthew. He was still fast asleep in his cot beside the double bed. He’d slept through everything. She pulled his blanket round him then tumbled down the stairs and joined everyone else. She still couldn’t stop shaking. How many more times would this happen, she wondered, or something like it? And next time, would someone be hurt? It was just lucky that Will’s camp bed was over by the gram. If he’d been under the window the glass and the bricks would have fallen on him.

  Rose shivered as the cold air blew in. Benny stood in his vest and underpants and clutched a hammer in his hand. Anita was beside him, her short fair hair standing up in spikes on her head and an old frilly dressing gown pulled round her neck. The two boys were bare-chested. They wore only pyjama bottoms. Behind them were Sharon and Derek Green and Mike and Debbie Price all in coats hiding their nightclothes. Anita leapt forward and hugged the breath out of Rose.

  ‘I’m all right, Neet. We’re all all right.’

  Anita held her at arms’ length. ‘What happened?’

  ‘They chucked bricks through the window.’

  ‘This can’t go on, love. It can’t. You’ll have to tell the police.’

  ‘It won’t do any good, going to them.’ Rose knew Anita was concerned for their safety, but Inspector Williams would probably laugh in her face.

  ‘Not all the police are bent. There must be some good ones.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s finding them.’

  Two days later, Bobby arrived at the door. It was half past eight in the morning. As it was the Christmas holiday everyone was still upstairs having an extra hour’s sleep. Rose had just dressed and was about to put the kettle on. Bobby looked terrible, as though he hadn’t slept all night.

  ‘Bobby, what’s wrong?’ Rose asked, dreading the answer. Every time she opened the door now, she expected trouble.

  ‘They’ve done me car in,’ he said angrily, his blue eyes blazing. ‘It’s a write-off.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I left it outside the shop last night and when I came down this morning I didn’t recognize it.’ He stepped inside as Em came down the stairs, her hair rapidly freed from curlers and dressed in her trousers and cardigan. When he saw her his eyes softened to their old, soft blue, but then as he pushed back a lock of blond hair from his face, he grew angry again. ‘They drove nails in the tyres and poured paint all over it. When they’d finished ripping the insides up they bust as much of the engine as they could, then left their calling card. A couple of bricks through the windows.’

  ‘Oh, Bobby, no!’ Em wailed.

  ‘I’d like to lay my hands on the bastards who did it.’

  Rose felt her legs begin to shake again. ‘Your lovely car,’ she whispered. ‘Do you think it was him?’

  ‘Who else could it be?’ Bobby’s face was red now and his hands clenched into fists. ‘He’s a bad lot, this bloke, Rose. Eddie should never have got mixed up with him.’

  ‘She knows that,’ Em said defensively. ‘They tied her up and cut off all her hair, didn’t they?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s unforgivable. Someone has to do something.’

  ‘I’ve tried,’ Rose said helplessly. ‘I just don’t know what to do next.’

  ‘There’s no use blaming her—’ Em began, but Bobby shook his head.

  ‘I’m not. But I think we should go to the police.’

  ‘What could they do?’ Rose said, her voice rising uncontrollably. ‘That Inspector Williams won’t help. Eddie was put away because of him. How do we know who to trust?’

  ‘We have to do something,’ Bobby said urgently. ‘Someone has to.’

  Rose put her hands up to her face. Her head was aching and her thoughts were in turmoil. She didn’t want to accept the truth, that the only person who could do something was Eddie. It was Eddie that Norman Payne wanted. This was how he blackmailed and threatened his victims until they gave in and agreed to do as he wanted. It was only Eddie who could stand up against him and refuse.

  She looked at her sister and Bobby and saw the fear in their faces. She knew she would see that look again and again over the coming years if they didn’t make a stand now.

  ‘You’re right, Bobby. When Eddie comes home, we’ll go to the police. We’ll find someone who’ll listen to us and help us.’

  Bobby looked at her with a little frown and nodded. ‘It’s got to be done, Rose.’

  Just then Matthew cried out from upstairs. Her heart lurched unpleasantly. Both she and Em turned to run up together. They almost collided. Then Donnie called over the banister that they were taking Matthew in their room to play with him.

  Em collapsed on the stairs. She looked up with wild, frightened eyes. ‘We’d better postpone the party. I couldn’t enjoy it, what with all that’s happened. I’m sorry, Bobby. Really I am.’

  ‘Does that mean we’re not engaged?’

  Em nodded slowly and it was then that Rose knew they simply couldn’t go on like this. As soon as Eddie came home, their lives had to change.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  He was filthy rich.

  Eddie smiled at the screw as he stowed his saved wages from the workshop in his pocket. A ruckled, unpressed pocket it was true, but after almost two years stuck in brown paper, his suit didn’t look that bad, not really. Four pounds fifteen and sixpence, yes, he had earned every penny in that stinking sweatshop. He was rich!

  Some
how Norman Payne didn’t seem to matter much any more. Like a bad dream, his spectre had almost vanished overnight as freedom beckoned, the bright March day holding more for Eddie than the promise of spring. His Rose would be waiting at the gate with Benny, and the three of them would drive back in style to Ruby Street where he would hold his daughters and son safely in his arms once more.

  Just let Payne try it on now he was free, well, almost free. The swine was happy to bully women and carve up the cons in the nick. But Payne would have his work cut out if he showed his ugly mug in Ruby Street, though he had to admit his skin still crawled when he thought of the tiny package of Rose’s hair pressed into his hand. Payne had really got to him then. He still wasn’t certain he believed what Rose had told him, that they hadn’t hurt her. Christ Almighty, they could have killed her – or worse.

  ‘Don’t forget your watch,’ the screw reminded him as he turned away from the bench. ‘Nice piece, that.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Eddie flung the cheap imitation leather strap across his wrist and felt even more like his old self. The watch, a bit flash because it really did look the business with its pearly face and luminous hands, had been the last of his stock from Cox Street. He’d bought it for a song from a punter who needed cash. The trophy was a reminder of his old street cred and he felt a renewed dart of pride. Once upon a time he’d been able to flog ice to an Eskimo and get away with it. But all that would have to change if he wanted to go legit. He’d big plans to get himself a licence for a market stall, settle down and be his own boss. No more street trading or floating, he was Payne’s lackey no more. No, this time Rose would be proud of him.

  ‘Your missus waiting?’ the police officer enquired solicitously.

  Eddie grinned. ‘Too right, mate.’

  ‘Then you’re a lucky bastard.’

  Eddie didn’t need to be reminded how lucky he was to have Rose. Most cons suffered the inevitable fate, dumped by their girlfriends or wives. Some just faded away, others stopped writing or never showed up with their VOs. That’s what got to the poor devils. No news, no communication, nothing. Just that silence that stretched on for years and a stray bit of poisonous gossip that did your head in.

  Eddie had often joked with Solly Rosenberg that it was only Alma and Rose who kept the prison postal service going. Solly had read Alma’s weekly letters dutifully, although most of them bored him stiff. They’d had a real laugh over some of the things she said, as Solly imitated his wife’s nerve-twanging tone and read the family news aloud. He was a good bloke, old Solly. They’d shared a lot of laughs together and Eddie had missed his company. Solly had even written to wish him good luck on the outside.

  The outside! Eddie’s heart raced as he thought of being a free man again. He’d make all this grief up to Rose. As soon as he took possession of a kosher stall, he’d pay off his debts and provide for his family. Rose could chuck in that poxy job at Kirkwood’s, look after the kids properly and life would be rosy again.

  Eddie gave a confident shrug. ‘Well, this is it then. I’ll be taking me leave. I’m just going to call in and pay me respects to the Guv’nor, tell him how sorry I am to be leaving.’

  ‘Yeah, you do that. Perhaps he’ll extend your holiday for free.’ The screw laughed coarsely and, tearing a sheet of paper from the book on the desk in front of him, he slid it across the stained, chipped surface of the desk towards Eddie. ‘There you are, all the paperwork done. You’re almost a free man. Like a smoke?’ The screw tossed a filter tip across the desk.

  ‘Yeah, why not?’ Eddie wasn’t bothered really. He could take it or leave it. But he picked up the fag and slipped it in his breast pocket along with his release forms. ‘Ta. I won’t hang around to enjoy it as it might spoil me breath. You ain’t got a peppermint have you?’

  The warder laughed raucously. ‘No, but there’s a bottle of Jeyes in the lav.’

  Eddie turned on his heel and whistled his way to the far door. Another screw opened it and escorted him along a narrow, white painted corridor. For the last time Eddie inhaled the stink that was burned into his brain; disinfectant, boiled cabbage, human excretion, stale sweat. Glistening beads oozed from his forehead. His mouth was dry and he licked his lips. He had to keep a handle on his excitement, so he walked jauntily, as he used to, uncaring that his old suit needed more than a press to restore its dignity. He’d soon be wearing something smart, slicking back his hair with Brylcreem again, polishing his shoes until he could see his face in them. Life was six feet away from being back to normal.

  Even so his gut went over when he was a few yards away from the outer door. He felt like running, charging at it, but he kept his head and paced himself, swallowing down the animal urge to flee.

  Five minutes later he was in the fresh air. He sucked in the oxygen; his lungs couldn’t get enough. They hurt as he gulped razor sharp breaths. The world was a beautiful place. Across the road, a sandy lane wound intriguingly through a wood. He could walk up it if he wanted to, right to the end with no one to stop him. Above him a tall oak tree swayed, its naked, twisted branches bereft of leaves. He could climb that tree if he wanted, right to the top.

  Eddie blinked hard, relief and disbelief flowing through his body. In front of him was a gate, the last barrier to his freedom. A uniformed security guard was on duty, raising the red and white striped pole to visitors. Eddie looked round expectantly for Benny’s lorry. Rose had said they would be here for one o’clock.

  He checked his watch. Twenty past six. He smiled ruefully. A nice piece all right but it couldn’t bloody keep time. He should have put it right before he left. He looked up, still smiling. A wind was getting up, a cold March wind cutting like an invisible mower through the grass in the field close by. What a beautiful sight. The outside world.

  Freedom . . .

  ‘That’s right, Eddie, take a good, deep breath. Lovely ain’t it? And it don’t cost a penny.’

  Eddie spun round. He froze. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he groaned, his new-found confidence immediately disappearing.

  ‘That’s no way to talk to an old friend.’

  ‘You’re no friend of mine.’

  Norman Payne leered at him and raised his hand. He beckoned with his well-manicured index finger and two men jumped out of a car parked innocuously by Reception. They, like Payne, were dressed in camel overcoats, their shoulders packed with muscle. They stared at him with cold, merciless eyes and Eddie quaked inside.

  ‘Now, now, old son,’ Payne said easily, effeminately curving his gloved hand against his thick silver hair. ‘We’ve got a lot to catch up on.’

  Eddie braced himself. Where was Benny? Where was Rose?

  Payne smiled as if he was reading his thoughts. ‘Ah yes. Your wife.’

  Eddie sprang forward wanting to tear out the man’s throat. The two heavies blocked his way. ‘Where is she? What have you done with her, you ponce?’

  Payne’s smile disappeared. ‘Using the space between your ears never was your strong point, was it, Eddie?’

  ‘Where is she?’ Eddie demanded as the two minders pushed their chests against him.

  ‘Now why should you think I’ve done anything with her?’ Norman Payne raised his heavy black eyebrows. His expression was mock innocence. ‘I merely passed the time of day with her – and her escort – about an hour or so ago. For some reason they seemed agitated when I enquired about the health of your fine children and sister-in-law. Sad to say they left in a bit of a hurry.’ His hard, cold eyes met Eddie’s in silent triumph. Payne tutted. ‘Cause me any more trouble, Eddie old son, and you’ll never see your pretty kids again. Now, be a good boy and get in the car.’

  Trussed like a chicken, Eddie was delivered to the vehicle. Squeezed in the middle of Payne’s two minders he tried to get his paralysed brain to work. But he was having déjà vu from Coronation Day. Only this time it wasn’t for himself he was shit scared. This time it was for his family.

  As the driver of the car started the engine, Payne turn
ed from the front seat to sneer at him. ‘Not a word as we go out of the gate,’ he muttered between gritted teeth.

  Eddie wondered if it was possible to alert the guard to his plight. But the bonnet of the long, sleek limousine slipped unchallenged through the barrier. It was clear the operator had no intention of finding himself work.

  Just my bloody luck, Eddie thought bitterly, but anyway, what could anyone have done to help? Payne held all the cards and he, Eddie, was what he’d always been. The joker in the pack.

  ‘Please, please, let me see them,’ begged Rose as she sat on the chair, as she had once before, with her hands tied behind her back.

  She received no reply from the man who stood guard on the door, his face blank. He was a small man, but muscular with a neck the size of a bull’s.

  ‘It’s no use, Rose. Save your energy.’ Benny was sitting beside her on another chair, his wrists and ankles bound. They’d been easy prey for Payne’s men when they returned from Hewis. Rose still didn’t know if she’d made the right choice leaving Eddie to fend for himself. Payne had been lying after all, when he’d told them the children and Em were safe back in Ruby Street. She shivered as she thought of Payne’s stomach-churning words to her back in the prison grounds.

  ‘Your children are missing you, Mrs Weaver,’ he had taunted her after striding over to the lorry like some sort of official. She had wound down the window and as soon as she heard his voice, recognized him. Although she’d been blindfolded the last time they met she’d know that voice anywhere.

  ‘Wh . . . what have you done to my children?’ she stammered helplessly.

  ‘As yet, nothing. Leave now and you’ll find them safe and sound.’ Payne had smiled obsequiously. ‘We’ll give your husband a lift home.’

  ‘Stay there and don’t move,’ Benny had yelled at her as he jumped out of the lorry. But as he lunged at Payne, the backup intervened. They’d dragged Benny behind the lorry and she’d sat there, not knowing what to do, wondering what would happen to Em and the children if they didn’t get home in time.