by Martina Cole
Ivy grinned. She loved conversations like this, they excited her.
‘So long as you didn’t upset him.’
Even June laughed now, and Debbie.
‘Of course, he cut off Alfie Archer’s ears with a broken glass because he grassed up Harry Petersen. Remember him, Mum? Big Harry the Scandinavian docker?’
‘That’s right, his wife was a nice woman, felt sorry for her I did. That Harry was a right nice-looking bloke and all, white-haired with icy blue eyes. He was a looker all right. Ended up doing an eighteen for armed robbery after Archie grassed him. So he had his ears removed. That used to be a warning then, in the forties and fifties like, not to grass up what you heard. It was a kind of message to others when you saw him ear-’oleless walking about the place. I remember his name - Jacob Daniels. That was it, weren’t it, son?’
He nodded dreamily.
‘Yeah, Jacob Daniels. Christ, Mum, you’ve got a memory, you have.’
Ivy preened at the compliment.
‘Well, they was the good old days, weren’t they? It’s a different world now. Villains ain’t got the class no more. I mean, even the Davidsons and the Bannermans don’t really belong to the upper echelons, not like the old-style manor bosses. They looked out for their own they did. I remember during the war they made sure we had a bit of whatever was going, you know. Bacon, a few eggs, whatever. Consequently people kept stumm, respected them. Not like nowadays when you have all these young kids dealing drugs and that. Like that Barry. He deals drugs, I heard.’
She looked pointedly at Susan, who answered her through gritted teeth.
‘You want to get your facts right, Ivy, he don’t deal drugs. He leaves that for the likes of Georgie Dixon who Dad got his from.’
Joey laughed at the two women trying to score points off one another. But Ivy wasn’t impressed.
‘That’s different. They’re for medical reasons, ain’t they, son?’
Joey nodded.
‘But she don’t go out with Barry any more, do you, love? You took your old dad’s advice, didn’t you, Susan? And if me mother’s right, you got out of it just in time. Them drug dealers are heading for a fall. Davey’s got his eye on them, and Bannerman.’
Susan looked into her father’s face.
‘What’s that? After a cut, are they?’
Joey looked full at his daughter. His voice low and angry, he snapped, ‘That’s right, love, they’re after a cut, and that cut is what will put food on this table in future so you keep that in mind.’
The pure loathing in her eyes made him angry and he could feel it spiralling through his body to his head. But he would not lose it today. Today he was on his best behaviour.
‘Well, I can’t sit here listening to you lot waffling on, I have a hot date.’
All eyes turned to Debbie who was trying in her own way to make it easier for Susan.
‘Who you going out with then?’
Joey’s voice was mild now.
‘Micky Shand. The son, by the way, not the father.’
They all laughed.
‘Good on you, girl, they’re a nice family. His dad out now then?’
Debbie nodded happily.
‘Yeah, he got out about ten days ago. They had a lovely party for him, pearly queen and everything. It was a right laugh.’
June smiled.
‘I heard about it. Wish I could have gone meself but with all that’s been happening . . .’ She left the sentence unfinished.
Joey grabbed her hand in his and squeezed it.
‘Well, everything’s okay now, love. We’ll be riding the pig’s back now, girl. We’re on our way up. I want to buy a house next.’
Ivy’s face was a picture of joy.
‘Imagine that! My son owning his own drum.’
Susan grinned and said nastily, ‘What you gonna call it - Dunrobbin?’
Joey looked at her for a split second before his fist shot out and caught her on the side of her face. June and Debbie leaped from their seats and pulled her away from the table.
‘Leave it, Joey! Just leave it, mate. She was out of order and she’s been punished, don’t let her ruin the day.’
June pushed Susan from the room and dragged her towards her bedroom. Inside she shut the door and pushed her none too gently on to the bed.
‘I am sick of you, Susan. I am so sick of you today you would not believe it.’
Susan rubbed at her face and felt the lump swelling already from the blow.
‘You asked for that, winding him up. You know what he’s fucking like.’
‘Yeah, I do, and so do you, so why are you back here with him? This will be you soon. A punch here, a kick there. You know it as well as I do.’
‘He don’t mean the half of it, you wound him up deliberately, but I tell you now - you push him too far and he’ll break your neck.’
Susan closed her eyes, the throbbing of her cracked jaw penetrating into her brain.
‘As soon as I’m fifteen I am out of here.’
June laughed then.
‘I think we can safely assume that one, Sue, but in the meantime you really have to learn to keep your trap shut. I don’t want to see you any more today unless you can keep a civil tongue in your head.’
She pulled her daughter’s face round roughly and looked at it.
‘You’ll live. But I warn you, don’t wind him up and don’t wind me up either. I have enough on me plate as it is without you causing more hag for me.’
As June walked from the room Susan let the tears fall. She hated Joey McNamara; hated him with a vengeance. And she was beginning to dislike her mother. She already knew that any respect she had ever had for her was gone.
Today had been the beginning of the end for mother and daughter. It was to be the start of a long-running battle between them that would last almost the rest of their lives. The rough love June had doled out as and when it suited her would be all but withdrawn over the next few years until they literally hated one another.
Chapter Seven
Barry Dalston had nice eyes and he knew it. He would look straight into a woman’s face and smile at them and was always amazed by the reaction, especially from the older ones.
He knew he wasn’t exactly good-looking in the conventional sense, but he had something about him. Something the women liked. He guessed rightly it was his devil-may-care attitude and physique.
The night before, he had been to a pub in Bethnal Green with his mates and had met a woman there called Sophie. She was thirty-five, with a nice car, a nice flat and great tits. She was married to an insurance broker called Alfie who was boring. According to Sophie if boring the arse off people was an Olympic sport, her Alfie would get the gold.
She was a little overweight but her plumpness made her feel sexier to him, and if her hair was just a tad too bright to be real and her dresses just a little too tight to be comfortable, Christ, she was a laugh.
In her car she had climbed over the back seat as if she did it every day of her life, flashing a pair of black lacy knickers and plenty of flesh above her stocking tops.
Barry had had an erection like a policeman’s truncheon in five seconds flat, and as she caressed it and giggled he had nearly come there and then.
It was a new experience for him. Sophie expected to enjoy herself. The fact that some women actually did enjoy sex had until that moment passed him by.
Looking into his eyes, she’d exclaimed happily, ‘Well, boy, am I glad I didn’t wear me glasses. I’d have screamed with fright.’
Barry had loved it, every second of it. From her breasts spilling out of her dress to her straddling him and holding his arms behind his back as she made herself come. He felt as if he had died and woken up in a shagger’s paradise. It was all his schoolboy dreams come to life in front of his eyes.
Afterwards she had smoked a cigarette and then started again, something that had frightened Barry as much as it exhilarated him. Never would he have believed a woman could want i
t like that, like a man did. When her tongue had snaked around his erect penis the second time he had had to name the whole of West Ham football team in his head to stop himself from screaming out.
Sophie loved the effect she had on him and told him so. Barry sat in the back of the car, dazed and knackered, but up for whatever she wanted to do next. They had arranged to meet twice a week, and he was looking forward to it more than he had ever looked forward to anything in his life.
He was whistling as he walked up the Mile End Road on his way to meet Susan. It didn’t occur to him that he was two timing her because Susan - his Susan as he thought of her - was thick in many respects. She fancied herself a bit because she read books, but as far as the real world was concerned she didn’t have a clue. And that suited Barry right down to the ground. Who wanted a bird with more up top than themselves? was his reasoning.
If Susan ever found out about Sophie he would talk her round because he knew in his heart of hearts that Susan needed him a damn’ sight more than he needed her. It was six months now since her father had come out of hospital and at nearly fifteen she could soon start to see who she liked and her father could get fucked. Barry wanted her with a belly full of arms and legs. That way he was in, even Joey McNamara would have to swallow him then, anything being better than the shame of a little bastard arriving.
Barry smiled as he thought about it.
Joey was a Number One man now, a real face with real connections, and Barry wanted a bit of it: a bit of the glory, a bit of the limelight. As Joey’s son-in-law he would get it.
Plus, he liked Susan in a funny sort of way. Her eyes looked into his constantly and it was like having a really devoted dog that could chat to you and tell you how much it loved you, how great it thought you were. And she let him have what he wanted, when he wanted - and for a boy like Barry with a libido that went up and down like a whore’s drawers that was a bonus.
So, all in all, he was happy with life. If only he could get an in with Susan’s family he would be okay.
He had already started on the granny. If he saw her round the shops or the market he always made a big fuss of her, and the silly old bitch loved it. She even let him and Susan use her house while she was at bingo, and considering she and Susan used to hate one another Barry put it down to his natural charm.
In fact Susan and Ivy had become quite pally over the last few months, now they had a common enemy: Susan’s mother June.
Susan loathed her and Barry found that strange as she had loved her so much once. He had warned her a couple of times about rowing with her mother over nothing. It was bad enough she hated her father without causing hag with her mother and all. The few times he had seen June he had made a point of letting her know he thought Susan’s attitude to her left a lot to be desired at times.
He was that determined to get himself an in.
Once he married Susan he could give her a right hander and sort her out once and for all, he decided. He slipped into the Londoner for a quick drink and saw Joey McNamara sitting at the bar. Smiling, Barry walked up to him and nodded.
Joey ignored him and carried on talking to the woman beside him, a dark-haired half-caste with eyes like pieces of coal and non-existent tits. Barry wouldn’t have given her the time of day.
He ordered a light and bitter and smiled to himself at the conversation taking place beside him. This was more like it, this was what he wanted a part of.
‘I am telling you, Joey, the man is loaded. He’s a regular customer and always has about five grand on him. All you need to do is make sure you see him before I do, right? I can’t roll him, he’s been using me too long and he’s the type of bloke who wouldn’t be scared of Old Bill knowing he tommed it. But if you take him as he’s coming to see me, you have the money and I have a great alibi. You see, the customer before him is a man called Josh Gold, the little Jewish bloke from the market. He’ll be my witness, see? What do you say?’
Joey sighed. Turning slightly on his stool, he shook his head.
‘Five grand? Fuck off, Babs, and find someone else to take the shit. I can’t be bothered.’
She shrugged.
‘Fair enough, Joey, it was just a thought.’
As she walked away he pulled her back roughly.
‘If you do roll him, I want my twenty-five percent, though. That’s my cut these days.’
She nodded, resigned to the fact that opening her mouth had cost her money.
‘Of course. I’ll let you know if it happens, okay?’
Joey grinned, displaying his none-too-white teeth.
‘Oh, Babs, I’ll know if it happens. Ain’t nothing happens on this turf without my say-so any more, you remember that.’
Barry followed her out of the pub. As she tried to walk fast on impossibly high heels he grabbed at her arm. She faced him and smiled, showing large white teeth.
‘Hello, and what can I do you for?’
The Caribbean lilt was strongly in evidence even though she was more cockney than many around her, having been born on the Bow Road.
Barry was both annoyed and flattered to be taken for a punter.
‘There’s nothing you can do for me, love. I ain’t never been a lover of black pudding myself.’
‘Then you don’t know what you’re missing, boy.’
He grinned.
‘I have a good idea. Listen, Babs, I overheard your little chat with Joey Mac in there. Maybe I can help you out?’
She looked him up and down. Her voice insolent now, she said nastily, ‘I want a man, not a boy.’
‘I’m man enough for what you want, lady.’
Babs laughed then. She admired his guts and his self-confidence.
‘My pimp is Jonah. You ready for that, boy?’
‘I’ll sort out fucking Jonah if needs be. Now do you want to have a chat or not? I can guarantee you a nice little earner for ten minutes’ work. What do you say?’
‘Look, you’re Scottish. I mean, your accent isn’t going to do you any favours, is it, not on a rent man?’
Barry laughed.
‘You’re black but it ain’t done you no harm, girl. Listen to me. I’m going to cosh the fucker and rob him, not have a conversation with him. Now do you want to talk or not?’
Babs looked him over once more.
‘I drink up West in the Crown and Two Chairmen. I’ll be there at eight tonight if you’re still interested. Think about it before you commit yourself, and think about Jonah too. He might swallow me tucking up a punter but not an outsider.’
Barry grinned again, and she grinned back. She liked him.
‘Fuck Jonah.’
Babs laughed out loud.
‘Oh, I have boy, many times.’
As she sashayed away on her high heels Barry felt a burst of happiness. His first real kill and he had got it himself. He felt his balls tingling with the thought of what he would do and then he was hurrying to meet Susan. He could get round her nan’s, give her one and still make it for eight up West.
All in all, life was good.
‘All I’m saying is, if your father finds out there’ll be murder done.’
‘I don’t really care, Mum, it’s none of his business. So stick that one up your pipe and smoke it.’
June sighed heavily as she battled an urge to smash her daughter’s head in with the heavy ashtray beside her make-up bag. Putting on her make up and arguing with Susan was becoming a bit of a habit.
‘You’re not going out in that, surely?’
Susan looked down at her new jumper. Ice pink, it buttoned up the back with little pearl buttons and went over a black pencil skirt. It also emphasised her already considerable bosom. High heels finished off the outfit. With her eyes made up and a new feather cut, Susan thought she looked nice.
‘You look like an old whore!’
Susan laughed.
‘Well, you should know all about that, Mum, you practically invented that look on your own.’
‘Bollocks!’
<
br /> Susan looked at herself in the mirror.
‘No, Mum, tits.’
She cupped her breasts and jiggled them.
June felt like laughing but she didn’t. This new Susan was a different kettle of fish altogether. Fighting and arguing at the drop of a hat. This was the first time they had spoken even remotely civilly for weeks.
‘They are a size, girl, ain’t they?’
‘I like them, they make me special. And, Mum, believe me when I say Barry adores them.’
June sniffed.
‘I’m sure he does, but if your father sees you dressed like that Barry will be looking for his nuts all over the East End.’
‘Mum, I only dress like this when I’m seeing him, and with me blanket coat over the top no one sees nothing they shouldn’t. Even in me usual sloppy gear they stand out like beacons, so stop worrying.’
June looked at her daughter’s face. It was lit up from within. She envied her in some ways. To be young and in love with your whole life ahead of you. She also knew that she should help her more with Joey, but she couldn’t. Joey had a thing about Susan and deep inside June guessed what it was. The same two things that attracted Barry Dalston.
‘All I’m saying is, be careful. There’s more to life than a pair of tits and a bloke.’
Susan laughed then, a nasty sound.
‘And you would know all about that, would you? The trollop of London giving me advice? Shove it, Mum. What’s the matter? You jealous you got a bit of competition, is that it?’
At that June lost her temper and gave Susan a stinging slap across her freshly made up face.
Susan’s fist went back and she had planted it firmly between her mother’s eyes before she realised what she had done.
June staggered backward, trying to grab hold of the dressing table. Instead she fell in a crumpled heap on the bed. Susan rushed to her, trying to help her up and apologising over and over again.
‘Mum! Christ almighty, Mum, I am so sorry. Mum, please let me look at you.’