Chapter Thirty-Four
‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’ Carl accosted Kenny the very next evening when he was on his way out, all dressed up like a dandy as usual, the quiff in his greased hair even more pronounced.
‘What?’ Kenny adopted a picture of innocence, not knowing what was coming but careful to be prepared.
‘Have you been seeing that Maureen person, that prossy round the back of Tonman Street? Did she really offer to dispose of the kid? Was that the reason Dena left you standing at the altar? Because if so, then I’m not surprised. You deserved it.’
Kenny said nothing but his expression told all.
‘You disgust me. Where were you brought up? In a sewer?’
‘Don’t play the Holy Joe with me. Even Mam had a couple of clear outs in her youth, she told me so herself.’
‘Clear outs! Is that what you call it? This is a human life we’re talking about here. A child. Our mam, bless her sweet heart, had more men than she can rightly remember, and yes, I’m aware she admits to having had a couple of abortions. That’s why neither of us has a father, or any idea who he might be, but that’s no reason for you to go down the same road. I keep hoping we Garsides can salvage our reputation, grow a bit of dignity, and put our dear mother’s colourful past behind us. But I never do take your lack of common sense into account. Get out of my sight before I start to wish she’d cleared out you as well.’
‘I can improve,’ Kenny burst out, wanting his brother to like him, needing his approval.
‘Oh, and how will you manage that, may I ask? Where are you off to now for instance? Up to more bother, I’ll be bound.’
‘No!’ Innocence shone out of him, hands spread wide. ‘As a matter of fact I’m going to the flicks with me mates. We’re going to see that new movie, Rock Around the Clock. Happen if you got out a bit more, you wouldn’t get yourself into such a state.’
‘I don’t understand where you get your money from, when you don’t even have a job. All you seem capable of is washing up in Mam’s back kitchen, not what she had in mind for her younger son.’
Kenny danced back and forth in agitation, his skinny legs in their drainpipe trousers and artificially huge feet in their crepe sole loafer shoes, somehow unable to keep still. ‘Well, you’re wrong, I have got a job, so there. I’ve started me own security firm, looking after people. Me and my mates keep watch at night and see off any likely trouble.’
Carl’s eyes widened. ‘Any likely trouble? Security firm? What the hell do you know about security?’
Kenny puffed out his chest. ‘I keep my ear to the ground. I’m a success.’
‘More likely if they pay you enough you agree not to break into the place yourself and nick their takings. Is that what you’re up to? Is that it?’
A crimson flush darkened his neck and Kenny took a step towards his brother, one clenched fist raised. ‘If anyone else had accused me of that they’d have felt the weight of this, right?’
‘Don’t hold back on my account,’ Carl growled. ‘I would take great pleasure in taking you apart, yet again One for the road, eh?’
‘You keep your nose out of my business, right? Or brother or no, I’ll break both your legs.’
‘You and whose army? Does Mam know about this little scheme of yours? No wonder the market has had so many break-ins. I can see it all now, you daft cluck.’
Carl began to walk away but Kenny grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him round. ‘One word to anyone and I warn you, you’ll regret it. You keep your flaming mouth shut, right?’
Carl Looked down on him with undisguised contempt. ‘I will keep quiet, yes, but not because I’m scared of you, you little worm. But because if it gets out what you’re up to, we’ll all suffer. We’ll all get tarred with the same brush. I shall speak to Mam though, and hope she can drum some sense into your stupid noddle.’
When Kenny had gone, slamming the door behind him, Carl punched his fist into the wall in silent fury. Stupid bastard! He’d get them all thrown off the market if he carried on like this, and himself in the lock-up.
Later that same night Carl was alerted by a neighbour that his brother had indeed been arrested for disorderly behaviour, and was being held in Minshull Street Police Station. He and a group of his mates had ended their evening at the pictures by jiving in the aisles, ripping up seats and chanting ‘We want Bill’, and ‘rock, rock, rock.’ Very nearly starting a riot until the police had swooped in to stop them.
‘Next time,’ Belle said, ‘go and see The King and I instead. Deborah Kerr is lovely, and that Yul Brynner can darken my bedroom door any day of the week, but the music in that picture wouldn’t drive anyone to riot.’
‘No thanks. Not my cup of tea.’ Kenny winced as his mother dabbed Dettol on his cut lip. He’d already suffered a long lecture from his brother, now he wearily prepared himself for another.
‘I don’t know what this new rock ‘n’ roll is all about, nor do I want to know, but choose somewhere less public for your riot next time, will you? I’ll never manage to climb the ladder of respectability if you keep knocking me off it.’
Belle was getting so desperate over her lack of progress in getting elected onto the committee that she’d even bought herself some of the new premium bonds, hoping she could win herself a fortune and retire instead. Now that was sad, Belle Garside starting to think about retirement.
‘Sorry, Mam. Eeh, but it were good. We couldn’t help ourselves. Our feet just started going and we couldn’t seem to stop.’
‘Aye, well if you don’t watch out you’ll get a ball and chain attached to them dancing feet of yours. And look at them skinned knuckles. Who have you been beating up?’
Kenny shrugged. ‘Some bloke who got in me way. I won’t be made a fool of by nobody.’
‘No, you can manage that all by yourself,’ making him yell out loud as she dabbed at the open wounds with disinfectant. ‘So what’s all this about a protection racket? Whose daft idea was that?’
‘Mine, and it’s not a daft idea. I’m raking it in. I’ve got most of the inside stalls signed up and I collect from them every month. Now I’m starting on the outside ones but they’re a bit trickier as they don’t have to lock up and leave stuff behind. But most of them have storage depots, a warehouse or garage where they keep their stock, and the last thing they want is to have it nicked. They’ve come to depend on me. Nobody gets done over on my watch.’
Belle’s eyes narrowed as she paused to listen to her younger son’s bragging. A stream of blood ran from an open cut on his head but she made no move to staunch it. ‘And is that because you’re good at your job or because, as Carl has suggested, you don’t turn them over if they pay you.’
‘That poxy brother of mine always has to throw his weight about like he’s holier than thou. He thinks he’s bleeding Carlton Heston.’
‘Well, answer me, which is it? No, don’t bother, I can see the answer written in the guilt on your daft face. You’ll have to be a lot cleverer at disguising your feelings, lad, if you intend taking up a life of crime.’
‘Don’t you start.’
‘Actually, what I’m thinking is that you’re in need of a bit of mature guidance. Any business that isn’t quite – pristine - shall we say, demands good cover. So why don’t we set you up in something legit, then no one will ask awkward questions about what it is you do with your time? And your little security racket can be run alongside it on the QT.’
‘QT?’
‘On the quiet. Lord save me from thick sons. You need to disguise your under-the-table activities with an honest one that is all above board. A proper business.’
‘What sort of proper business?’ Kenny frowned, not sure he cared much for the sound of this.
Belle was thoughtful for some minutes as she slapped Elastoplast and Germalene on to various cuts and bruises, ignoring Kenny’s cries and whimpers. ‘There you are, good as new, and I think I have the answer to your problem. Alarms. You can sell bu
rglar alarms. The perfect solution. I’ll even put up the starting capital for you, in the form of an interest free loan. And in return you can do something for me.’
Kenny’s eyes glittered with excitement. ‘I like it, but I can’t afford to share the profits with you, Mam. I want a car. A Ford Zephyr. Dena would be sure to take me more seriously if I had wheels. She’d be dead impressed.’
Belle pursed her lips, for once devoid of their usual coating of lipstick, since it was so late. Then she allowed them to widen into a beatific smile. ‘You shall have a car, my precious. Whatever your little heart desires. I shall buy it for you myself once you’ve succeeded in getting me on to that committee.’
She leaned closer, gripping his startled face between the flat of her hands, her highly polished nails glistening in the firelight. ‘All you have to do is to persuade all your clients to vote me on as the next market superintendent. There, that’s not too difficult, is it? You can do that small thing for your mam? You’ve plenty of time, the elections aren’t until April which gives you nearly three months to work on people. Play your cards right, lad, and we’ll both be in the money. Then I’ll help you get your mucky little paws on Dena. Right?’
‘Consider it done.’
Despite his mother’s interesting offer, which he was more than willing to pursue, Kenny was furious with Dena. He knew that the only person who could have told Carl about Maureen and the offer to rid her of the baby, was Dena herself. Nobody else knew. And he was not best pleased by this show of disloyalty on her part. The bitch was out of control and she really needed teaching a lesson. What right had she to go telling tales about him behind his back, and to his own brother for God’s sake?
He hammered on her door. Dena, I know you’re in. I want to talk to you.’
‘What is it now, Kenny?’ She opened the door and his heart lurched at sight of her. She was holding the baby in her arms, a towel slung over one shoulder as if she’d been bathing it, her hair all damp and tousled. Damn it but he wanted her. If it weren’t for the bleeding infant in her arms, he’d push her down on the floor this minute and get on with the job.
‘Can I come in?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. We’ve been through all this already. Please do stop coming round, Kenny. I find it most upsetting.’ And she closed the door in his face.
Kenny stamped down the stairs seething with fury. How dare she treat him so callously? She’d be sorry one day. He’d make her sorry.
It looked like Alice was Kenny’s only hope. Maybe she could again try to talk Dena round although he had grave doubts that she would succeed. He doubted anyone could make Dena come round, even her own mother.
If necessary, he’d have to find some other way to win her. He’d give the matter his most serious consideration.
For now Kenny turned his attention to his new security business, and to his newly appointed task of trawling the market, making it plain that he was canvassing for his mother while collecting his monthly dues. Some people were more than willing to vote for her, saying they were fed up with Joe Southworth anyway, as he did little to improve trade. Others were harder to convince and Alec Hall was stupid enough as to laugh.
‘You taking up politics an’ all, now lad? Nay, that I have to see.’
‘It’s for Mam. She’s the one who wants your vote, not me.’
He laughed again. ‘Nay, your mam won’t expect anything from me. She had her fill of what I had to offer years ago. She’s never been back for seconds.’
Kenny socked him one right on his nose and was deeply satisfied to see blood spurt out. ‘I hope I’ve broken it, but just in case I haven’t, you vote for her at the next election right, or I’ll come back and finish the job.’
Annie and Clara Higginson, the two maiden ladies who ran the hat stall, may well have seen the occurrence if their nervous twittering was anything to go by. They swiftly agreed that they’d be delighted to vote for Belle. Hadn’t they said all along that she was excellent committee material.
‘And here is our monthly payment, as usual,’ said Annie, usually the more forceful of the two. ‘Not quite the full amount, I’m afraid, as Christmas is never our best time. We are so much busier in the spring, particularly Easter, don’t you know. Yes, yes, much busier, dear boy.’
‘That’s not my problem. And I’m not your dear boy.’
‘No, no, of course it isn’t, of course you’re not. I mean . . . oh dear,’ the poor woman flustered. ‘We wondered if perhaps we could pay different rates, at different times of year, taking into account fluctuations in trade. Would that be at all possible? No, perhaps not. I can see by your expression that it would be most inconvenient for you. Well, well, it was just a thought. Do tell your dear mother that she will most certainly get our vote. Only too happy to oblige. And if there is anything more we can do, you have only to say, only to say.’
‘All you have to do, love, is vote for Mam and pay me what you owe, that’s all. I’ll call for the balance next week.’
‘Yes, yes, of course dear . . . er, Kenny . . . er, Mr Garside. It will be ready and waiting, I do assure you.’ And she offered up her most simpering smile before he laughingly strode away, a jaunty swagger to his step.
Next he went to see Winnie Watkins at her stall. Unfortunately, Dena wasn’t there, which was disappointing.
‘Nay,’ Winnie said, shaking her head, well wrapped up from the winter cold in her usual woolly bobbed cap. ‘Me and your mam don’t exactly see eye to eye on matters regarding market regulations. She wants to put up rents sky high, while I think they’re high enough, and all we need is better value for money.’
‘I expect she has her reasons,’ Kenny said, not too sure what these might be.
‘Aye, I dare say she has, like lining her own pocket. Joe Southworth might be a dimwit, and lazy, but he’s fair, and he votes labour, of which I’ve been a paid up member all me life. Your mother, I believe, votes for the other lot, so there we are. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.’
Kenny stepped closer. ‘I reckon, if you give the matter a bit more thought, Winnie, your views might change and you’ll come to see that it’s in your best interests to start seeing eye to eye, at least so far as the committee is concerned. If you catch my drift.’
Winnie straightened her spine. ‘I’m not sure that I do, lad.’
‘I hope I don’t have to explain things more fully. That could be very uncomfortable for you, very uncomfortable indeed.’
‘And I hope that isn’t some sort of threat, because I remember you when you were nothing but a snivelling brat in wet britches. You’re not much better now, but I’ll have you know that my Donald will give you what for, if you so much as lay a finger on me or mine.’
Kenny burst out laughing. ‘I shall look forward to it. Now that could be very interesting. See you later alligator.’
Winnie watched him go with a deep sense of unease.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Christmas was almost upon them yet again. Snow was turning to mush on the roads and buses and cars skidded and slid, spraying the unwary with sheets of wet ice. Pavements were piled high with the stuff and everyone was wrapped up well in fur lined ankle boots, overcoats, woolly hats and scarves.
There was the smell of chestnuts roasting and hot baked potatoes, home-made mint chocolate from Lizzie Pringle’s Chocolate Cabin, and the sharp tang of holly and mistletoe from the wreaths hung up on Bette Hemley’s flower stall. Molly Poulson had made her special pork and ham pies for the festive season and Joe Southworth’s cake and biscuit stall was doing a roaring trade. It was commonly agreed that no one could ice a Christmas cake as delicately as Irma, his wife. These were so popular you had to place your order weeks in advance.
Barry Holmes’s stall glistened with heaps of oranges, tangerines and rosy red apples. He’d added bags of cob nuts and walnuts, plus a few pink pomegranates, in keeping with the season, and could often be seen giving away nuts and raisins to goggle-eyed childre
n.
‘I’m a soft-hearted fool where kids are concerned,’ he told Dena when she laughed at him for giving away his profits. ‘And here’s a bag to put in the stocking of your little treasure.’
Dena gave him a quick kiss. ‘What would I do without you?’
‘Actually you seem to be doing very well without me these days. You certainly don’t ask me to baby-sit as often as you used to. You haven’t needed me in weeks. What’s up, have you given up on your dancing?’
Dena laughingly shook her head. It was true that she hadn’t asked him to baby-sit much at all in recent weeks, not because of Carl’s disapproval of him, but because Winnie was generally willing to sit with Trudy, so there’d been no need
‘Course not, though admittedly most nights I’m glued to my sewing machine, so it’s felt like it at times. Anyway, Friday is still our night out, and Gwen insists we go to the Ritz for the special New Year’s Eve do.’
‘Splendid! Well, you’ll need me to baby-sit then?’
‘No, that’s OK. You’re relieved of duty. Winnie has volunteered to do the honours. She’s going to sleep at mine.’
Barry frowned, looking disappointed by this news. ‘There’s no need to bother Winnie. You can count on me to stay as late as you like. Where would I want to go these days anyway, old fogey like me?’
‘It’s no trouble. I think she likes to do it. Bit of company for her I expect.’
He pulled a face. ‘Well I don’t suppose she gets much conversation out of Donald these days.’
‘Barry, that’s unkind. Poor Winnie. I worry about her, I do really. All on her own and rarely letting anyone inside her house in case they find out the truth about her poor deceased husband.’
Putting on the Style Page 27