By the time he was seven, Jimmy had learnt to take care of himself. He would scour the markets looking for a few hours’ work in order to buy food, and if there was no work to be found, then he would resort to picking the occasional pocket. Jimmy felt no remorse for his past thieving. It had been done out of necessity. These times had been rare, but when he had been forced to steal he had done so without thinking twice. It was a case of survival, for without the odd wallet or purse he had lifted, he would have died; it was as simple as that.
At the age of eight he had been taken on as a runner for a local bookmaker. The work had been easy enough; it was keeping a sharp look-out for the law that had been the hardest part of his job. Betting was illegal then, just as it was now, but it was the runners who took all the risks. If caught, they faced imprisonment, and the penalties were harsh, while the actual bookmaker, the man behind the gambling enterprises, carefully covered his tracks, usually beneath the veneer of a respectable businessman. The law knew of these men, but to succeed as a bookmaker a man had to be smart, and with the money pouring in on a regular basis, these men could afford highly skilled bookkeepers to account for every penny that swelled their coffers.
Jimmy had been a runner for only a few weeks before he felt the strong arm of the law. It had been a month after his eighth birthday when the burly constable had caught the young boy taking a bet from an elderly woman outside the Hackney Town Hall. Screaming, kicking and punching, the terrified child had been dragged by the scruff of the neck down the busy thoroughfare of Mare Street. The officer had been just a few minutes away from the police station when Bessie Wilks, her scrawny arms laden down with cheap groceries, had collided with the struggling boy and irate policeman. Even in his terrified state, Jimmy had recognised Bessie immediately. She was one of the neighbours who had often fed and sheltered him during his childhood. He had gazed at her with anguished eyes, feeling the vice-like grip of the constable’s hand around the back of his neck. For a few agonising moments, the woman and boy had locked eyes, then Bessie, her voice rising to a shrill scream of protest, had let go of her shopping, whereupon tins and other assorted goods had rolled and bounced noisily down the cobbled street. Jimmy’s heart had soared as he’d quickly realised Bessie’s intention of causing a diversion, but the streetwise constable had maintained his grip. Bessie had screamed louder, crying out for help to retrieve her week’s shopping. A small crowd had formed, glad of the unexpected entertainment on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, and the constable’s grasp had loosened as he attempted to pacify the distraught woman. It was all Jimmy had needed. With a strong, swift jerk, he had twisted from the policeman’s hold, and like lightning was off down the streets, his strong young legs pumping frantically as he literally ran for his life.
Later that night he had returned to his old street under cover of darkness and knocked on Bessie’s door. Bessie had opened the door warily, then, seeing the young boy, had quickly ushered him inside. But instead of the warm greeting Jimmy had envisaged, he’d received a hard clout around the head accompanied by the words, ‘Yer stupid little git.’ Still dazed, he had then been given a hot meal of beef broth and dumplings with two doorstop slices of bread to mop up the hastily reheated meal. Over his late supper, Bessie had told Jimmy his parents had done a flit over six months ago, no one had heard of them since. The news had come as a great relief to Jimmy, and when, later that night, he curled up on Bessie’s wooden floor under threadbare blankets, he had slept soundly and without fear for the first time in his young life. From that day on Bessie Wilks had become his adopted mother.
Jimmy’s life had altered from that day. With a safe home to return to, he had become more confident, and with careful saving and the shrewd mind he had been born with, he gradually began setting up his own betting empire. It had been a long, often perilous business, for local bookmakers didn’t take kindly to opposition, but Jimmy had persevered. It had taken him over ten years to establish his own patch; now, at the age of twenty-eight, he was where he had always wanted to be – at the top, living in a home he had at one time only dared dream of, and with enough money tucked away to ensure he never went hungry again.
Yet although Jimmy didn’t mind recalling his early days from time to time, there was one part of his past he refused to dwell on. Even as the thought entered his mind, Jimmy quickly shut down on the painful memory. That episode in his life was over and done with. It was the only part of his past that even Bessie wasn’t allowed to mention. But despite his iron determination, a hazy vision of a face with bright green eyes and smiling full lips flashed across his mind. Gritting his teeth, Jimmy shook his head impatiently and took out his gold fob watch. Seeing the time, he clenched his lips in angry frustration. He should have known better than to agree to let Charlie visit the young girl Amy, when it was obvious the poor young man was smitten with the lovely blonde, even though he had been in her company for only a short space of time. But the boy was young, and the young were susceptible to romance, as he knew only too well. It was as one got older that a person became more cynical; or maybe it was just him. But if it was, then he had good reason to feel the way he did. Taking another look at his watch, Jimmy clicked his tongue, his patience fast running out for his erstwhile employee. The bloody little sod, he was taking liberties now, and Jimmy wasn’t the type of man you took liberties with, as Charlie should know by now.
When another five minutes passed, Jimmy leant forward on the leather seat and was about to alight from the carriage when he saw the front door opening wider and a slim form emerge from the house. At the sight of Rebecca Bradford, Jimmy experienced a stirring in his stomach that he hadn’t felt for many years, and inwardly cursed himself for coming here today. He could just as easily have got another of his men to drive him to his club, after all, it was Charlie’s day off – so why hadn’t he? To make matters worse, he’d had Charlie stop to pick up a large bouquet of flowers for the woman approaching the carriage. As soon as the flowers had been laid carefully on the opposite carriage seat, Jimmy had berated himself for the gesture. After all, he had already helped the two young women, and stayed to look after the old trout in the upstairs bedroom while the girls rested, and he wouldn’t have offered his services if that miserable excuse for a man, namely Phil Bradford, their supposedly loving brother, hadn’t made a quick exit. But, as he’d been telling himself for the last fortnight, he would have done the same for anyone, and after the elder sister had dropped her hostile demeanour towards him, and thanked him for his kindness, that should have been an end to the matter, especially as there was obviously another man in the picture. It was true that Rebecca hadn’t been that pleased to see the heavily built man from next door; it had been equally obvious that the man in question imagined himself to be an important part of the young woman’s life. All right, he grudgingly admitted to himself as the woman drew nearer, Rebecca Bradford was a very attractive woman; she was also evidently a very moral one to boot. And as Jimmy wasn’t looking for any long-term commitment, there seemed little point in continuing the brief association.
‘Mr Jackson, how nice to see you again.’ Rebecca was standing in front of the carriage, her face only inches from his. ‘And thank you so much for the flowers. You really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, but I’m very grateful, they’re lovely.’
Jimmy shuffled uncomfortably on the seat. ‘It was my pleasure, Miss Bradford, and I’m glad to see you looking so well after your recent ordeal. I hope you didn’t mind Charlie calling on your sister, he’s hardly spoken of anything else since he met her. I’m afraid your sister has acquired an admirer, but if Charlie’s not welcome, you only have to say the word, and I’ll soon have him out of your home.’
‘Oh, no, that won’t be necessary; in fact, I’m glad he called. I haven’t seen Amy this happy since…’ Rebecca shrugged her shoulders uneasily, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have revealed Amy’s feelings to this man.
An awkwardness descended over the two people until Jimmy, clearing
his throat said, ‘The police tell me that the men who attacked you are due in court on Tuesday. I’ve been asked to appear as a witness. Will your brother be coming with you and your sister to court? If not, then maybe you’d allow me to accompany you both.’ The moment the words were out of his mouth Jimmy cursed himself for a gormless fool. Not five minutes ago he’d been telling himself to stay away from this woman; now he was offering to spend the day with her.
Rebecca’s face lit up at his words. She had been dreading the court case, as had Amy, but with a man like Jimmy Jackson by their side, the ordeal wouldn’t be so bad. ‘That would be wonderful, Mr Jackson, although you’ve already done so much for us, I don’t want to put you to any more trouble. My brother and uncle have said they’ll come with us, but…’
She didn’t have to explain further, not to Jimmy, who had quickly summed up the brother, and the uncle couldn’t be much better, otherwise Rebecca Bradford wouldn’t be looking so relieved at his offer.
Doubtless, she would be able to attend court without a male presence, unlike most women who couldn’t seem to do anything without a man’s arm to lean on. But Rebecca Bradford wasn’t the type of woman Jimmy was used to associating with; she had courage and character, plus that undefinable trait that spelt class. And that was something you couldn’t acquire, it was a quality one was born with, and this woman looking at him with open gratitude had it in abundance. As Jimmy held her gaze he couldn’t help thinking what a terrible waste it was of such qualities, squandered and stifled by her living standards, looking after a bed-ridden harridan, and having a stupid, gutless brother to contend with as well.
Feeling a flush spreading over her face, Rebecca coughed quietly before asking hesitantly, ‘Would you like to come inside for a drink, Mr Jackson? It’s very cold out here.’
Jimmy jumped guiltily as he looked at the shivering figure. What was he thinking of, sitting in the warm cab, while this young woman stood freezing on the cobbled pavement? He had his hand on the handle of the carriage when Charlie and Amy emerged laughing from the house, and immediately Rebecca stepped back, her arms hugging her slim body to ward off the cold October wind.
‘Sorry I took so long, Mr Jackson,’ Charlie grinned in at his employer. ‘I’ll drop you off at the club then I’m going over the park with Amy… If that’s all right with you. I’ll pick you up about six, all right, Guv?’
Tearing his eyes away from Rebecca, Jimmy nodded. ‘Yeah, all right,’ then, his attention back on Rebecca, he added kindly, ‘I’ll pick you and Amy up on Tuesday, Miss Bradford…’
‘My name’s Rebecca, Mr Jackson, and thank you.’
Jimmy smiled broadly. ‘And mine’s Jimmy. Until Tuesday then, Rebecca.’
Rebecca smiled back then waved as the carriage drove off. As she turned to enter the house, Phil, looking very dapper in his best suit, came bounding towards her. Rebecca smiled wryly. ‘Sorry, Phil, looks like you’ve missed the boat again. Better luck next time.’
Hurrying into the warmth of the house, Rebecca scurried towards the blazing fire, while a stiff-faced Phil remained on the pavement, his bleak eyes fixed on the disappearing carriage.
Chapter Eight
‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Richard Fisher, his fat face wreathed in smiles of paternal benevolence, beamed down on his cousins as the small group left the Old Bailey. ‘That judge didn’t waste time, did he. Ten years a piece for the two accomplices, and fifteen years for the ringleader, and they got off lightly if you ask me. If I’d had my way, the whole lot of them would be dangling from the end of a rope. Still! That’s another three ruffians off the streets, and thanks to our friend Jimmy taking the stand as the main witness, you two girls didn’t even have to go through the added ordeal of testifying. Thanks, Jimmy, mate.’
Jimmy looked at the proffered hand with thinly veiled contempt. This was the first time he’d met the portly man, yet already he was calling him by his first name and acting as if they’d been close friends for years. The brother was just as bad. How two lovely, independent young women like the Bradford sisters could have such weaklings as menfolk was a mystery to him. So much for the theory of the weaker sex. Though Jimmy had never agreed with that old adage. He’d known women who could chew nails and wipe their arses with sandpaper without turning a hair; not that he would put Rebecca and Amy in that category, but…! Conscious of the girls’ anxious glances, Jimmy took the offered hand reluctantly, and when the sweaty, pudgy hand tried to keep the grip for longer than necessary, Jimmy disentangled his grasp roughly, then quickly turned his back as he saw the hovering Phil nervously moving forward, his hopeful smile dropping at the deliberate snub.
Turning his attention to the two girls, Jimmy doffed his hat and asked cheerfully, ‘Can I give you girls a lift home, or maybe you’d like to have a drink to celebrate? I know I could do with one after sitting in that place for the last four hours. Just our luck that our case was on last, but you never know with these things…’ Jimmy was amazed to hear himself babbling like an awkward youth. Spreading his legs wide, he clasped his hands firmly behind his back and said in a firmer voice, ‘Of course if you’d rather go straight home, I’ll drop you off first. Your aunt must be worried.’
At the mention of Maude, Rebecca’s back stiffened. Of course her cousin would be worried. Worried she would be left alone to fend for herself if Mrs Gates decided to get off to her own home. Maude would also be dying of curiosity by now – well, she’d just have to wait a little longer, wouldn’t she?
‘Thank you, Mr Jack— I mean, Jimmy.’ Rebecca smiled warmly, unaware of the effect she was having on the rugged man. ‘Actually, Maude and Richard are our cousins, we only refer to them as Aunt and Uncle out of courtesy. But, yes, we’d love to go for a drink, wouldn’t we, Amy?’ She turned to where Amy was excitedly nodding.
‘Oh, yes, please, Jimmy,’ the younger girl answered breathlessly, before adding shyly, ‘We’ve never been in a pub before, have we, Becky?’
Rebecca’s face coloured slightly. Lord, but Jimmy must think she was a complete drudge. To have lived in the East End for as long as she had, and at her age to have to admit she’d never been in a pub was somehow shaming, as if she didn’t have a life. Then again, she didn’t, did she? A deep feeling of determination began to burgeon through her body. She’d been meaning to do something about her sorry state of affairs for a long time, and now seemed as good a time as any to make good her resolve. Tilting her chin up proudly she replied, ‘No, we haven’t. In fact, I’m afraid we’ve both led very dull lives. I think it’s about time we changed that, don’t you, Amy?’
Hearing the on-going conversation, both Richard and Phil moved nearer the trio, anxious not to be shut out. ‘That sounds like a great idea, Jimmy.’ Richard slapped Jimmy on the back, a gesture that brought a tight, grim line to Jimmy’s mouth. If there was one type of person he couldn’t stand it was a sycophant. As the words formed in his mind, Jimmy silently laughed at the use of the word. Sycophant, huh! Crawler sounded much better, it had more bite to it. The English language was a wonderful thing, and Jimmy had struggled to educate himself over the long, hard years, spending every spare hour in the public library in a bid to learn all the things he had missed out on through his lack of schooling during his formative years; but you couldn’t beat the good old-fashioned words when describing people such as these two men.
Helping the girls into the carriage, where a grinning Charlie was perched up in the driver’s seat, Jimmy said quietly, ‘I won’t be a minute,’ then turned to the still-hovering men. Lowering his voice, he hissed harshly, ‘Listen, you two ponces, the only reason I’m here is because of the girls, so piss off and stop trying to pretend we’re old mates, because we ain’t, and never will be. I just feel sorry for those two poor cows for having two miserable, gutless excuses for men in their drab lives. And you…’ he scowled at Phil, who fell back a pace in fright. ‘I ain’t gonna tell you to stop gambling, ’cos you can’t. It’s in your blood and you’ll never
change, more’s the pity, so I’ll keep taking your bets, ’cos at least that way, you won’t have to worry about getting your legs broken if you can’t pay up. But you’d better not let those girls go short because of your habit, or you’ll have me to answer to. D’yer understand me, Bradford?’
Phil gulped noisily then nodded. ‘Yeah, all right, Jim— I mean, Mr Jackson,’ he amended hastily, at the look of pure venom etched on the face glaring at him. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, he blurted out, ‘I know I’m not the best brother in the world, but I do love my sisters and—’
Already walking away, Jimmy rounded on the hapless Phil. ‘Well then, bleeding well show it, and look after them. They deserve better, and if you were any sort of a man, you’d know it.’
Phil’s eyes dropped under the accusing stare, and Jimmy, recognising the genuine shame the other man was feeling, relented. ‘Look, if you can’t stop gambling… Well then you might as well do it where I can keep an eye on you. Come and see me on Monday and I’ll see if there’s anything going by way of a job. That’s if you’re interested.’
Phil’s eyes lit up, his shoulders straightening, as a new feeling of worth surged through him.
Luck Be a Lady Page 7