“That’s quite enough of that,” one of the screws said from the corner of the room. “Sit down.”
The three of them sat down, with Ruby gazing at her father adoringly.
“So, what’s new?” Martin asked them.
Ruby cast a worried look at her mother, clearly panicking that she was going to tell her father about Ruby’s latest escapade.
But Babs wasn’t feeling particularly vindictive that morning.
“Same old thing,” she said. “Old Mo has gone away for a long holiday.” She gave Martin a meaningful look as she spoke in code.
Martin nodded. “Yes, Tony told me.”
He didn’t look bothered, Babs thought. It was like water off a duck’s back to him.
“Well, I’ve got some news,” Martin said, grinning at his daughter.
For some reason, that made Babs feel nervous. “What news?” she asked snappily.
“I could be getting out of here sooner than we thought.”
“That’s brilliant,” Ruby said, looking as pleased as punch.
Babs wasn’t quite so thrilled. “Why? What has happened?”
“It’s the new legal team I’ve got working on my case. They’ve secured a date for the appeal.”
As Ruby chatted on with her father happily, Babs let her mind drift. Life would be very different when Martin got out. She wasn’t looking forward to it, at all. She’d gotten used to having the house to herself and being the one who made all the decisions at home. She hadn’t had to play second fiddle to Martin for a long time, and she was quite sure she would hate returning to their old life.
“You don’t look very happy, Babs,” Martin said, and she picked up on the mocking tone in his voice. She realised he could tell what she was thinking.
“I’m fine,” she said, and then she forced herself to add, “It’s brilliant news.”
Martin laughed and then asked Ruby to go off and get them some biscuits. When their daughter was safely on the other side of the room beside the large tea urn, Martin leaned forward and spoke to Babs in a whisper. “Tony told me what happened.”
Babs stared down at the table. She should have guessed Tony wouldn’t keep it to himself. But she wouldn’t give Martin the satisfaction of rubbing her nose in it.
“It was nothing. It’s all sorted now.”
Martin nodded slowly. “Everything is sorted just as long as you remember your place, Babs.”
Babs let out a laugh. “How could I forget, Martin? You and Tony remind me of it constantly.”
Martin’s features hardened, but before he could respond, Ruby was back with the biscuits, so they went back to playing happy families.
CHAPTER 30
J emima tucked her red hair behind her ears and licked her lips nervously. She was standing outside The Queen’s Head in Poplar, debating whether or not to go inside. Babs Morton had told Jemima that Gerald Patterson drank at this pub. Jemima tried to peer through the window. The bar didn’t look too busy. There were a few men propped up by the bar, but Jemima wouldn’t know whether one of them was Gerald. She only had a brief description from Babs.
She looked up the street wondering whether she should run away. She didn’t know whether or not she could trust Babs. Every time the older woman looked at her, Jemima felt as though Babs was judging her, and it made her feel nervous. She had followed Babs’ advice and not told her father what she was planning to do tonight. In fact, she hadn’t told anyone and was now starting to worry that had been a bad idea. What if things went south? Perhaps she should have asked one of her friends to come along, but they were all too immature and wouldn’t understand why Jemima would want to do such a job for Babs Morton.
The truth was Jemima craved the excitement, at least she had earlier, but now she had her doubts.
She took a step backwards as a boozed up middle-aged man burst through the doors of the pub and staggered out onto the street.
“Hello, sweetheart. What’s a lovely young girl like you doing out here all alone?”
Typical old letch, Jemima thought and turned her back on him. She knew she looked nice as she had taken her time over her appearance this evening. Her long red hair, her best feature, was piled on top of her head, and a few loose tendrils fell down framing her face.
“Stuck up bitch,” the man muttered over his shoulder as he stalked off down the street.
Jemima ignored him, took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the pub. The smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer hit her immediately. It was still early so conversations were less boisterous than they would be later on. As Jemima stepped inside the main bar, it seemed to her like everybody stopped talking at the same time. Heads swivelled towards her.
Jemima tried to toss her hair, momentarily forgetting that she had pinned it back. Her cheeks flushed, but she tried to look confident as she strode across to the bar. It only took seconds before one of the punters sidled up to her. Jemima was pretty sure this wasn’t Gerald Patterson. Babs had told her Gerald was a good-looking man, and the greasy haired man in front of her with a patchy beard certainly wasn’t.
“Can I get you a drink, darling?” He asked as his eyes travelled up and down Jemima’s body.
Jemima forced herself not to shudder. “I’ll get my own drink, thank you,” she said primly.
Unfortunately, the man didn’t take the hint and instead of going away and leaving her alone moved even closer to her.
“Don’t be like that. A drink will loosen you up a bit.”
Fortunately at that moment, the man behind the bar asked Jemima what she would like to drink and so she turned to him and ignored the greasy haired man. “I would like a port and lemon.”
The Barman nodded, and as he began to prepare Jemima’s drink, she said, “Is Gerald Patterson in tonight?”
The man on Jemima’s right muttered, “Oh I should have guessed you would be one of Gerald’s girls.”
The Barman’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up at Jemima suspiciously. He paused for a moment, and then seemed to decide she wasn’t a threat and nodded in the direction of the window. “He’s over there by the window, drinking alone. Perhaps you can cheer him up. I’ve never seen him look so miserable.”
Jemima turned and saw a handsome man sitting at a table by the bay window, staring into his pint. Babs had been right. He was good-looking, so perhaps that would make this evening a little easier.
Jemima paid the Barman and took her drink across to Gerald Patterson.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Jemima asked, turning on her brightest smile.
She needn’t have bothered. Gerald didn’t even look up before saying, “I’m not in the mood for company tonight.”
Jemima hadn’t expected that. She had never been turned down by a man in her life, and didn’t quite know how to react. For a few moments, she stood there dumbfounded, looking like a fool.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How humiliating. If she couldn’t even manage to persuade Gerald to buy her a drink, how would she persuade him to traipse across Poplar to Martin Morton’s club? Suddenly, she felt very much like a little girl playing an adult’s game.
Jemima could feel the eyes of the other men in the bar on her and she felt like they were laughing at her.
She plonked a glass on the table and then sat down in the empty chair opposite Gerald. “Well, I’m going to sit down anyway. These heels are killing me.”
As she spoke, Gerald’s gaze focused on her feet and then travelled up her legs slowly before his eyes met hers. She saw the spark of interest in them, but she wasn’t about to make it easy for him. He had turned her down once, so now he was going to have to grovel.
“I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough couple of days,” he said and smiled.
Jemima didn’t answer and simply took a sip of her port and lemon. She didn’t return his smile. Instead, she reached inside her handbag for her cigarettes.
“Here let me,” Gerald said, reaching over to light a cigarette and holdin
g out a gold lighter.
Jemima leaned forward and allowed him to light the cigarette.
“Forgive me for being rude,” Gerald said. “What’s your name?”
Jemima pretended to hesitate before replying. “Jemima. I don’t normally come into pubs like this, but I was supposed to be meeting a friend and they haven’t turned up.”
“Their loss is my gain,” Gerald said smoothly.
Jemima smiled, hoping to encourage him. Afterwards, she wished she hadn’t been quite so encouraging. Gerald proceeded to tell her how difficult things had been for him lately, and as the drinks kept coming, he moaned more and more and drank so much that Jemima wondered whether he would be able to walk.
As Gerald stood up, preparing to order another round, Jemima put a hand on his arm. “I’ve had enough here,” she said and gestured around the pub which had now filled up quite considerably. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
Gerald grinned. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Um.” Jemima pretended to think for a moment. “Let’s go to Mortons. They have fantastic music there.”
Gerald shook his head. “It’s too noisy there for me.”
Jemima pouted. “But it’s my favourite club.”
Gerald hesitated as he rocked slightly on his heels. “I don’t know…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jemima said, reaching for her handbag. “I should probably get home now anyway.”
“No, don’t go yet. The night is still young. Come on, we’ll go to Mortons if you really want to.” Gerald reached for Jemima’s coat and held it out for her.
As Jemima’s arms slid into her coat, she smiled. Step one was complete. Now came the difficult part.
* * *
Gerald had had far too much to drink. Jemima staggered under his weight as he leaned on her for support. Under normal circumstances, the walk to Mortons would have taken ten minutes, but thanks to Gerald’s inebriation it took twice that long.
Jemima kept checking her watch anxiously. It was almost nine o’clock. Why did Gerald have to be so drunk? She glanced at her watch again. It had been an eighteenth birthday present from her father, and just looking at it made her imagine his reaction if he found out what she was doing. She shivered.
“Are you cold, sweetheart? Here, cuddle up to me. I’ll keep you warm.” Gerald was now slurring his words.
Jemima only just managed to resist rolling her eyes as they turned the corner and finally saw Mortons. She had never been so glad to see a nightclub in her life. Only a few more yards and they would be there.
Jemima nodded at the men on the door. They knew her father, red-haired Freddie, and Jemima often came to the club. She pulled on Gerald’s arm, encouraging him to walk faster as they passed the queue outside the club.
Gerald looked bemused. “Do they know you here?”
Jemima nodded. “I live in the flat above the club,” she lied smoothly.
Gerald was frowning, and Jemima tried to pull him into the club before he had a chance to change his mind.
“I thought Martin Morton owned the flat.”
Jemima nodded again. “He does, but he doesn’t have much use for it now he’s inside, so the Mortons rent it to me.”
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” Gerald said as he looked around the dark club, which was packed.
“Why not?” Jemima shouted over the music.
“The Mortons aren’t very happy with me at the moment.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. The Mortons are never here. They own the club, but they don’t drink here.”
Gerald nodded but he still looked about the club warily.
Jemima leaned close until her lips were practically touching his ear. “It’s ever so loud down here. I can hardly hear myself think. Why don’t we go upstairs to my flat?”
They were the magic words. Gerald perked up and grinned at her. She took his hand and led him through the crowds beside the bar, heading towards the door to the living quarters.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned back to smile reassuringly at Gerald and then let out a gasp of shock when she felt him squeeze her backside as he followed her up the steps.
Jemima couldn’t get into the flat fast enough.
She opened the door, and once they were inside, Gerald pushed her up against the wall, pressing his lips down onto hers.
She pushed back hard on his shoulders, and he took a step back and blinked at her, surprised at her reaction.
She nodded down the hallway. “You go into the bedroom. I’ll fix us a drink.”
Babs had told her she and Henry would be waiting in the larger bedroom, ready to confront Gerald.
Gerald reached for Jemima again, holding her round the waist. “I don’t need a drink,” he said huskily.
Jemima gave him a hard shove. “Well, I do,” she said firmly and then strode away from him along the hallway and into the open plan kitchen area.
“I like a feisty girl,” Gerald said, moving like lightning and pushing himself up against Jemima’s back.
Before Jemima could respond, the door to the bedroom burst open, and to Jemima’s horror, she saw her father storming towards them.
Within seconds, red-haired Freddie had Gerald by the throat and pressed up against the kitchen wall. “That’s my daughter, you bastard. If you have touched her–”
“Dad, don’t!”
Freddie turned to face Jemima, but he didn’t release his grip on Gerald’s throat. “I’ll deal with you later, Jemima.”
Gerald’s face was turning purple as Babs Morton calmly strolled out of the bedroom and through into the open plan kitchen.
“Have a seat, Jemima,” Babs said and then turned to Freddie. “Let Gerald go. We have business to discuss.”
Freddie reluctantly released his grip on Gerald, who slumped to the ground gasping for breath.
Freddie narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t tell me Jemima was the girl you were using to lure Gerald here.”
Babs also hadn’t told Jemima that her father would be here to confront Gerald either.
“Never mind all that now,” Babs said. “It’s time to persuade Gerald to become a business partner of ours. Take him to the bathroom, Henry.”
For the first time, Jemima noticed Henry the Hand hanging back by the door of the bedroom. He smiled broadly and walked forward to pick Gerald up off of the floor.
Jemima watched in horror as her father joined Henry and dragged a very reluctant Gerald into the bathroom. She then heard the sound of water running.
Jemima’s eyes widened, and she turned to Babs and asked, “What are they going to do to him?”
Babs sat down on the settee and crossed her legs. “I hope they are going to persuade him.” She leaned forward and her eyes gleamed as she asked, “Why? Would you like to watch?”
Jemima recoiled in horror. “No!”
As it turned out, the water wasn’t needed. Gerald shouted out that he was perfectly willing to accept their business proposal.
Babs smiled at Jemima. “Well, that was a lot faster than I thought it would be.”
She shouted over her shoulder, “Bring him in here.”
The two men brought Gerald back into the living area, each one gripping an arm and keeping him upright.
“I’m very glad you have decided to reconsider, Gerald.”
Gerald nodded anxiously. “Yes. I was stupid to turn you down. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure we can put that behind us and have a very happy business relationship from now on.” Babs leaned forward in her seat and narrowed her eyes as she looked at Gerald. “So when can we expect our cut? I want fifteen percent.”
Gerald’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to argue. “That’s fine. We’ve already moved the first shipment, but we are expecting another one in three weeks.”
Babs nodded slowly and then said, “Never let it be said that the Mortons aren’t reasonable people. I won’t ask for a cut on the stuff you’ve already shifted, but I
expect fifteen percent of your next delivery. Do we understand each other?”
Gerald looked like he might be sick. “Absolutely, Babs. I understand completely.”
Babs smiled coldly. “Excellent. I’d like to be there when you get your next shipment. Just to check you’re not trying to cheat us.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Babs waved a hand at Henry and Freddie. “Then we have a deal. Get him out of my sight.”
The two women watched Freddie and Henry roughly handle Gerald out of the flat. Jemima wanted to ask what would happen to him, but then decided it was better if she didn’t know.
CHAPTER 31
A few weeks later, Linda decided that no matter what Geoff said, she needed to visit the doctor. She sat in the waiting area at the doctor’s surgery, nervously smoothing down her skirt and watching the seconds tick by on the large clock on the wall opposite.
She just knew there was something wrong with her. Hopefully, it was something the doctor would be able to fix, but she couldn’t bear not knowing what the problem was.
If Geoff found out she’d been here today, there would be hell to pay. It was unlikely, though. As far as he was concerned, she was working at Bevels all day. And she knew for a fact that Geoff would be in the pub the moment the doors opened.
Despite the fact, he’d told her he was going to be working for Dave Carter, as it turned out, he’d only done a few jobs for him. As much as Linda wished Geoff could hold down a steady job, she was actually glad that he hadn’t managed to get himself deeply integrated into Dave Carter’s business. It was too dangerous. She had tried to talk to Geoff about it, but as usual, he had refused, telling her he couldn’t bear her nagging.
Something would have to change soon, though. Mr. Bevel was already talking about cutting Linda’s salary, and she didn’t know what she would do if that happened. They barely managed to afford the rent and put food on the table as it was.
If Linda had fallen pregnant, then Geoff surely would have been forced to get a job. She sighed. Fate had a funny way of making sure things turned out for the best. Linda didn’t want to bring a baby into this world if it had to live on the poverty line.
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