by Martina Cole
Her disgust knew no bounds. That Kerry, her talented, beautiful Kerry, could sink to that level, broke her heart. Jumping from her seat, she pushed and pulled poor Rosalee roughly as she got her coat on her, dragging the protesting girl from the house on their way to Briony’s.
She would know what to do.
Andrew McLawson held Eileen’s hand. He had taken her pulse, checked her over physically, and now he sat looking at her, puzzled.
‘Are you going to talk to me, Eileen?’
She opened her eyes and smiled tremulously.
‘Come on, tell me about yourself.’
He watched the changing expressions on her face and sighed. He had seen people like her before though not many times, he admitted. But he had seen the same haunted look, the same fathomless eyes, the same symptoms. Yet this wasn’t a family who would terrorise a child, or at least they didn’t give that impression. He had a girl at his nursing home, Sea View, who was the product of a very Victorian father and a weak-kneed mother. The girl had had all the life drained from her. The lust for life, the wanting of it, had been gradually beaten from her. Oh, not with fists, though this girl was still carrying the remainder of bruising on her arms and back, but with words and harsh behaviour. She’d been told she was worthless, and now she believed it. Quiet as a church mouse, she sat out her days, looking at the sea and drinking tea, constantly drinking tea, her hands clumsy and shaking. McLawson would lay money that the father had sexually abused the girl, he knew she wasn’t a virgin. But the father was a man of wealth and position, and the doctor was employed to hide people’s mistakes. ‘Bad nerves’ had become a catchall phrase for all the illness of the mind. At Sea View he had men, young virile men, who were still shell shocked from the war. He also cared for old spinster aunts or eccentrics without the private means to keep themselves who were shunted into homes like his by their uncaring relatives. Now he was to have this girl. The Cavanaghs were working-class, the voices betrayed that. But Briony Cavanagh seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of money, judging from this house. He shrugged. How she’d come about it was her business, but her concern for her sister was genuine enough. It was that concern which had prompted him to leave Sea View and travel up to this house to see Eileen O’Malley. Now he knew he would take her. She was like a poor broken bird. He’d take her to the home and try to look after her, but there was something her sister should know first.
Briony walked into the room. ‘Everything all right, Doctor?’
He smiled. His dark eyes were sad and his thick dark unruly hair stood up as if he’d been out in a gale, though this was the result of his constantly running his hands through it.
‘Sit down so we can talk.’
Briony sat beside the bed in a large leather chair. Andrew McLawson was surprised to see how tiny she was. Her feet were so small in her little white shoes they looked like a child’s. And all that hair, that beautiful red hair, with those startling green eyes. She was a lovely girl all right.
‘As you know, your sister’s not well.’ He looked at Eileen as he said this and smiled. ‘I think we could accommodate her at Sea View, but I really have to know all the details of your sister’s illness first. Everything. If I’m to help her at all.’
He noted the whitening of Briony’s face and looked at Eileen pointedly. He smiled at her gently. Briony was surprised to see Eileen smile back. She liked him.
‘If you would like to follow me down to the drawing room, I’ll tell you what I think you need to know.’ Her voice was hard and for a fleeting second the man felt that this little woman could be dangerous. The feeling passed as quickly as it had come and he stood up to follow her.
‘Anything you tell me will be in the strictest confidence, Miss Cavanagh.’
She looked into his face and said, ‘The name’s Briony, and some of the things I do aren’t strictly legal. In fact, they’re highly illegal. What do you say to that?
Andrew McLawson picked up his bag.
‘I am in the business of keeping secrets, Miss Cavanagh. Many of my patients are from the cream of this country’s aristocracy. I want to help people, not hinder them.’
‘Then you sound like just the man for me.’
The fact that he had first called her ‘Miss Cavanagh’ pleased her, and he wanted to keep everything businesslike, which could only augur for the good.
‘That is a very tragic story you told me there, Briony. I think your sister has had a very very sad life.’
She nodded. ‘My father brought her here to this house. He brought me a year later. Only I was stronger, I survived it all. I’m now a very influential woman in my own right, Dr McLawson, and what I want, I generally get. If something upsets me, I leave no stone unturned to sort out the problem.’
The doctor laughed out loud.
‘You’re threatening me!’
Briony smiled now, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
‘Not threatening, Dr McLawson, making you a promise. I have been very candid here today. The knowledge you now possess is because I want what’s best for my sister, but it has never been discussed with outsiders before. I want to make sure it stays that way.’
‘It will. Your father was a very wicked and evil man...’
Briony cut him off.
‘My father was a very poor man, a totally uneducated man, a man at the end of his tether, in fact. Born into the same circumstances, who knows what you would sell to keep your head above water?’
‘I wouldn’t sell my children.’
Briony smiled again. ‘You don’t know what you’d sell, young man, in the same position. You’d be surprised what I could get for you round the slums for five shillings. Every sexual act under the sun. It’s some people’s only saleable commodity. So don’t be too harsh on them. If I can find it in my heart to forgive my father, I’m sure you can.’
Andrew McLawson bowed then to a will much stronger than his own. This was a strange household, with strange secrets. He was beginning to be sorry he had ever entered it.
‘I’ll bring my sister tomorrow and stay ’til she’s settled in.’
‘As you like. I really must go now, to meet my train in time.’
‘My driver will take you to the station.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’
He shook the tiny hand that fairly glittered with jewels. This was a strange household indeed. Thank goodness he’d left by the time Molly arrived, breathing fire and fury.
‘Mum! Will you calm down?’
‘Calm down, she says! Calm down when that black-headed whore has been running round with a black man!
Briony stared at her mother in wonderment. ‘What! What did you say?’
‘That Kerry, she’s been running round with a mystery man all right. A fucking big darkie from her band! Oh, the shame of it! How will I ever hold me head up if this gets out?’
Briony managed to laugh.
‘You’ll manage somehow, Mother. If you could live down me and Eileen and the old man, you’ll live down Kerry. Now how do you know this is true?’
‘Because Delilah told me. She has a boarding house in Stepney. Well, your woman has been seen there, picking him up and dropping him off, as brazen as you like!’
‘She might just have been giving him a lift. You’ve no proof that anything’s going on. Bloody hell, Mum, you know what people are like. They’re still reeling from the disappearance of O’Malley and his mother. Don’t tell me they’ve time to talk about Kerry and all!’
‘Listen to me, Briony, I’ve had a feeling on me for a long time there was something not right with Kerry. Then the other week, I said something about blacks and she went mad. I should have guessed then. If she was here now I’d rip her sodding head off her shoulders, I would that! The thought of her and him ... him touching her with his black hands.’
Briony saw the disgust on her mother’s face. Going to her, she sat her on a chair.
‘Calm down, for crying out loud.’
‘You’v
e got to do something, Briony. Smash him up! Smash his bloody face in! Teach him a lesson he won’t forget! You have to put a stop to it - now.’
‘Hello, Bernadette. Sit yourself down.’
Bernie sat opposite Briony in her office. The door was closed but they could hear Kerry’s voice as she sang.
‘Sounds well, don’t she, Bri?’
‘She does that. In fact, she sounds just like a girl who’s getting a regular portion off a big black man. Am I right? Is Kerry having a fling with someone in the band? Because they ain’t likely to be getting engaged, are they?’
Bernadette’s face was a bleached white.
‘Who told you?’
‘Never mind who told me, it’s enough I know. You were obviously in on the big secret. You even tried to hint to me about it, didn’t you? Is it that Evander then, the one she’s so sure is talented and clever? Is it? Well, answer me then, you two-faced cow!’
‘I ain’t two-faced! I never said a word to anyone.’
‘That’s just the point, ain’t it? Normally you’ve a mouth big enough to get your foot in it, both your feet, in fact. Why keep quiet about something like this, eh? Is it because you thought that once the shit hit the fan Kerry would be finished, is that it? You sat and watched your sister bugger up her life and didn’t even try and do anything about it? You should have come to me, told me as soon as you knew or even guessed. Now I’ve got the job of getting rid of the ponce ain’t I?’
‘He’s going back to the States anyway at the end of the month.’
‘Oh no he ain’t, love, he’s going tonight. And he’s going with a flea up his arse. Rupert Charles knows a bloke who wants to record our Kerry. He thinks she’s going to be big, very big, and so do I. Unlike you, Bernie, our Kerry has a brilliant future ahead of her - and a black piano player ain’t in the picture anywhere! Tonight, after work, you keep her in the club. Evander and his merry little band are going to leave tonight, leave this place permanently, back to the good old US of A.’
‘But, Briony, they’re going at the end of the month anyway. What difference does a few weeks make?’ Bernie was amazed at her own argument for Kerry and Evander, but now the cat was out of the bag she genuinely felt sorry for them.
Briony shook her head in amazement.
‘Can’t you see? She’s been tumbled. Someone came and saw the old woman. It’s common knowledge, Bernie. We have to get shot now, as soon as we can. He has to leave with the knowledge that, if he ever comes back looking for her, there’ll be big trouble.’
Bernie looked at her hands clasped in her lap. ‘This will break her heart, Bri, she’s mad about him. Honest, she really loves him.’
As sorry for her sister as Briony felt, she had to be hard, and when she answered Bernadette, she meant every word she said. ‘Then that’s more fool her, ain’t it? But one day she’ll thank me for this. One day she’ll see the folly of what she’s been doing. Can you imagine what the upshot would be? Can you? If this was public knowledge Kerry would be an outcast. No. Her voice is the biggest thing she’s ever likely to have, and if it rests with me, she’ll use it to its fullest potential. I’ll see she don’t fuck up. I’ll see to that much personally.’
Bernadette stared at her sister for a long while before she said: ‘Do you know something, Briony? It must be great being you. You just barrel through life organising everything and everyone. You play God, and we all play your disciples. Well this last lot stinks. I admit, I wanted to see Kerry get her comeuppance. Talented, marvellous Kerry, the girl with the golden voice. But now I’m not so sure. Because I’ll tell you something for nothing - she loves the bones of that man, and you can send him off on his bike, do what you like, but you can’t change people’s feelings. I’d have thought you’d have appreciated that fact better than anyone? Look at how you feel about Benedict, and look who fathered him. You can’t help where your feelings lie, Bri. Not you, not me, not Kerry. Not even poor old Eileen.’
Briony leant across the desk, knocking her glass of whisky flying.
‘You’ve got a big mouth, Bernie, it’s always been your downfall. From a kid that trap of yours has always got you into bother. Well, let me tell you something, girl. I ain’t in the mood for you tonight. I don’t want to hurt Kerry in the least, I want what’s best for her. You’re the one who wanted her to be hurt. Whatever you say now, the fact you kept that big mouth of yours buttoned speaks volumes to me. So you’ll do what I tell you. You’ll keep her back tonight, and if you let on about any of it, I’ll wring your neck. Tonight this lot is finished and Evander Dorsey is history.
‘Now piss off out of my sight, Bernie, before I forget you’re my sister.’
Chapter Twenty-five
Kerry had promised Bernadette that she would have a quick drink with her at the bar to hear all the latest news on Eileen. The night had been a big success, the last of the stragglers were leaving and Kerry stood with a glass of champagne. She sipped it, and catching sight of herself in a mirror, automatically straightened up. Julian the bar manager watched her and smiled sadly. Kerry liked him, he was usually fun.
‘What’s the matter, Ju, you look miserable?’
‘Well, to be honest, dear, your sister isn’t exactly the happiest soul in purgatory tonight, know what I mean?’
Kerry laughed.
‘She has a lot on her plate now, what with Tommy taking on more outside business...’ Her voice trailed off. It must be common knowledge about Tommy and Briony, but it wasn’t going to come from her. She knew that the word was Tommy was expanding, which was the reason he wasn’t at the club any more. But people weren’t stupid. She had heard herself he was chasing every bit of skirt that passed his way. You couldn’t say that to Briony, though. Kerry was sorry for her sister, what with all that trouble with Eileen and Joshua, and now the split from Tommy. Their relationship had been so well established, it must be hard to live something like that down.
Evander walked past her and shouted, ‘Goodnight, Miss Cavanagh.’
She smiled and said goodnight to him, keeping up the big pretence even though she was aware that Julian had guessed months before about them.
‘Goodnight, Evander dear, see you tomorrow!’ Julian’s voice was high and Evander smiled as he left the building.
‘Very nice chap that. I like him a lot.’
Kerry smiled and sipped her champagne. Where the hell was Bernadette? Evander would have to wait for her on the corner now until she could pick him up in her car.
She swallowed down the champagne.
‘Another?’
Kerry nodded, and studied herself in the mirror once more. She was looking forward to seeing Evander tonight, she had some news for him. A club owner from France had heard about her singing and had offered her a spot with her band in his club, the Joie de Vivre. She had told her agent she was very interested. It was the break she had been praying for. She had convinced herself that France was the place where she and Evander could be together. The French were much more open-minded. Somehow they would be all right there, if only they could get away from London. She felt a small shiver of excitement in her breast. Her main aim in life was to stop him going back to the States. Stop him from leaving her. And now she had the handle she needed. She was surprised to find her champagne glass was once more empty and, turning to Julian, said: ‘Do you know where Bernadette is?’
He smiled and said, ‘She left about an hour ago.’
Kerry frowned.
‘Are you sure? Only we were supposed to be having a drink before we went home.’
Julian shrugged.
‘Perhaps she forgot.’
Kerry smiled, but she was puzzled. Bernadette had been very insistent.
‘Maybe. Goodnight, Julian.’
‘Goodnight, Miss. You sang like a little bird tonight. It was a pleasure to listen to you.
‘Thanks. See you tomorrow.’
Kerry left the club. Five minutes later she was on the corner of the street where she normally picked
up Evander. He was nowhere to be seen.
She waited ten minutes and then drove herself home.
Evander was sitting in the back of a large car between two men he had never seen before. Kevin Carter, Briony’s driver, was in the front. No one had said a word since they’d bundled him inside. He could feel the sweat rolling down his forehead and into his eyes. Evander was a big man, and strong, but there was no way he could hope to fight his way out of this situation. Knowing this, he became calm inside. He knew what they were going to do to him, he knew they were aware of his relationship with Kerry Cavanagh. He knew the time had come to pay the piper.
‘Can I smoke?’ His voice, he was glad to hear, came out strong, without a trace of terror.
‘Only if I set fire to you.’ Kevin Carter’s voice was hard, but the other two men laughed as if it was a big joke.
‘That’s what happens to blokes like you in the States, ain’t it? You get burnt alive on crosses. I read about it in the paper. The Ku Klux Klan, they’re called, ain’t they?’
Evander felt a return of the terror he had so valiantly suppressed. These men were no different from their American counterparts. No different from the people who rode up in the night and burnt out black shanties. Their sort was the same the world over. Red necks with cockney accents. He smiled in the darkness, watching the streets pass by, trying to figure out where he was.
‘I wonder what that means?’ Archie Tubby’s voice was genuinely interested.
‘What? Ku Klux Klan?’
‘Yeah, funny name, ain’t it?’
‘It’s Greek. It comes from the Greek, Kukos, meaning circle. Klan is from the Scottish clan. The first four Klansmen were confederate soldiers, descendants of the Scottish settlers.’