by D. S. Butler
Martin nodded slowly and seemed a little distracted, so Babs decided this was the perfect moment to tell him about Ruby and Derek.
“I’ve enrolled the children in a boarding school.”
Martin jerked to attention, and his head snapped back towards Babs. “You what?”
Here we go, Babs thought. He hadn’t wanted to see the children for the past few months, but now he pretended to be the perfect father.
“They were going off the rails, Martin. They need discipline, and I think this is the best way.”
“And you didn’t even bother to tell me before you enrolled them?”
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”
Martin snarled. “I can’t bloody believe it. You are going to ship off your own kids to a boarding school. What sort of mother are you?”
Babs bristled. “You don’t know what it’s like, Martin. They don’t listen to me anymore, and they cause me no end of trouble. It’s only for another year or two until they’re old enough to leave school.”
Martin glared hard at Babs as he smoked his cigarette.
Babs had expected this attitude, but it still pissed her off. It was all right for him in here acting like the master of all he surveyed, while she was stuck out there, having to deal with two little brats who seemed to hate her.
“Fine. Do what you like,” Martin said irritably. “How’s Tony doing? He was blabbering on about the club’s takings being down on his last visit.”
Babs fumed but tried not to let it show. Bloody Tony. She’d told him not to bother Martin with it yet, not until they at least had some proof. She had been intending to handle this and show Martin exactly how useful she could be to the business.
Right now, it seemed to Babs that she was doing all the hard work and yet getting none of the credit.
She met Martin’s glare and folded her arms over her chest. Well, things were about to change. It was about time Babs got the recognition she deserved.
Chapter 11
Later that evening, Big Tim was walking home. He’d had a skinful as usual at the Blind Beggar and was swaying from side to side on the pavement. It was still early in the evening and only just getting dark, but he’d been propping up the bar since opening time.
He didn’t drink for enjoyment any longer. He’d just drunk enough to get to sleep and keep the night horrors away.
Now that he no longer worked for Martin Morton and only did jobs here and there when he was sober enough, he had a lot more free time, and that meant more afternoons in the pub.
God knows what he would have done if Martin hadn’t been arrested.
He couldn’t have stood looking at that man every day and remembering how he had ordered Tim to kill Kathleen Diamond. So Martin’s arrest was a blessing in disguise for Tim, and he had taken the opportunity to walk away.
It wasn’t as if he was worried about what Tony Morton would do. The lily-livered Lothario was hardly going to punish him for walking away. He was just interested in having a good time and living it up.
Big Tim stumbled a little on the pavement and reached out to steady himself, placing a big hand on the brick wall.
He didn’t have far to go. He had digs just around the corner in Chances Lane.
Which was a good job because the bloody pavement had started to spin.
At least he wouldn’t be thinking about Kathleen tonight. He would drift off into a deep, dreamless, alcohol-induced sleep with any luck.
Feeling a little steadier on his feet, Tim let go of the wall and began to walk again, but as he raised his head and looked towards the end of the street, he saw a young boy walking towards him.
At first, he didn’t pay any attention, but as the boy got closer and didn’t move out of the way, Tim glared at him and prepared to shout at the cheeky little sod. And that’s when he saw his face.
Tim stopped walking abruptly. His eyes widened, and he gaped at the boy in front of him.
He looked so like…
His hand reached up to his chest of its own accord, and he crossed himself as he looked down in horror at those familiar dark blue eyes staring up at him.
Big Tim blinked rapidly, telling himself this was just a dream. He must have drunk even more than he’d thought. Maybe he had passed out somewhere and now he was dreaming.
He shook his head, trying to clear it of this horrible apparition.
“Are you all right, mister?”
Big Tim’s jaw worked up and down, but no sound came out of his mouth. The boy looked just like her.
The little boy pushed back his dark hair, and his forehead wrinkled in confusion as Big Tim lurched against the wall and crumpled down on his hands and knees before throwing up in the gutter.
That scared the little boy, and he flinched.
As Tim felt a cold sweat envelop him, he slumped in a wretched heap on the pavement and managed to gasp out, “What is your name?”
“Jimmy.”
“Last name?”
The little boy took a step back, wary of this huge giant of a man asking too many questions. He cocked his head to one side and then said, “Diamond. I’m Jimmy Diamond.”
* * *
The following morning, Red-haired Freddie turned up in his gleaming maroon Jaguar. He pulled up outside the Morton house in Poplar, got out of his motor and polished a smudge on the bonnet of the car with his shirtsleeve. It was his pride and joy.
Before he’d even knocked on the door, he could hear Ruby’s high-pitched voice protesting.
He had brought his daughter Jemima along for the day, and as Freddie caught her eye and rolled his eyes, Jemima giggled.
He rapped on the door and before long, Babs, looking frazzled, yanked it open.
Freddie gestured grandly and said, “Madam, your carriage awaits.”
Babs barely raised a smile as she stepped out of the doorway and yelled at Derek to get a bloody move on.
Then she turned to Freddie and said, “Thanks so much for this, Fred. I know Martin will appreciate it.”
“It’s no bother at all, Babs.” He jerked his thumb at the car. “I’ve brought my daughter along. You remember Jemima, don’t you? I hope you don’t mind her coming with us.”
Babs noticed Jemima for the first time and narrowed her eyes. Jemima had inherited Freddie’s flaming red hair, and she was a knockout. It cascaded down her back in loose curls, and her smooth pale skin seemed to glow with health.
Babs scowled. She didn’t like hanging around with younger women. It just made her feel past her sell by date.
“I didn’t think you’d mind, Babs. Of course, she’ll sit in the back with the kids, and you’ll sit up front with me.”
Babs nodded. She could hardly protest when Freddie was doing them a favour. So she turned her attention back to the children and gave them a clip round the ear as they finally emerged from the house.
Freddie put their cases into the boot of the car, and after another five minutes moaning from Ruby and Derek, they were on their way to Surrey.
Babs already had a bloody headache. They’d gone on and on last night and then started up again as soon as they got out of bed this morning.
They really thought they were going to change her mind. Well, Babs had news for them. If she hadn’t already been convinced, their bellyaching would have tipped her over the edge.
After spending the first half an hour in the car sulking, Ruby couldn’t resist talking to the glamorous Jemima. She wanted to know where Jemima had bought her lipstick.
Babs closed her eyes and tried to ignore the inane chatter.
When they’d moved out to Essex, Babs had been thoroughly miserable, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the countryside in small doses. As they got further and further from London, she enjoyed the sight of the greenery rushing past them and smiled as she saw horses galloping in a field they drove past. No, she didn’t mind the country. She just didn’t want to live there.
Luckily, she had found both Ruby and Derek plac
es in schools very close to each other. They were managed by the same education board, but both schools were single sex, and Babs thought that was for the best.
They dropped Ruby off first.
“Look at that,” Babs said. “See, Ruby, it’s not so bad. Just think of all the rich kids you’ll be mingling with.”
Ruby didn’t answer and instead muffled a sob.
The outside of the school was very grand. It had a long gravel driveway, and Freddie parked beside an ornate fountain at the main entrance. Babs stalked out of the car, snatching the case from Freddie before he could offer to carry it inside for them.
She grabbed hold of Ruby’s arm and practically dragged the girl towards the school.
The outside of the building was made of a type of old stone, and it had some plant growing up the side of it that Babs didn’t recognise. It looked very old and crumbly, though. She’d expected something a little more modern and exclusive, considering how much they charged per term.
Babs gave Ruby a prod in the back to hurry her along, and they entered through the large oak doors. They stepped into the cool of the reception area and were met by the school secretary, who asked them to take a seat while she went and fetched Sister Claire and Miss Bunce.
Babs shot a glance at her daughter and actually felt quite guilty. Ruby looked absolutely terrified. But Babs reassured herself she was doing this for Ruby’s benefit, and the girl would soon settle in.
When Miss Bunce and Sister Claire arrived, Babs could scarcely believe her eyes. Miss Bunce was short and as round as a ball, and Sister Claire was tall and skinny. They made a funny pair.
The women walked towards Babs in a synchronised fashion.
She’d half expected them to talk as one. But the skinny one spoke first. “Mrs. Morton, I am Sister Claire, and I teach English and deportment. From the information you provided, I think I shall be spending a lot of time with your daughter.”
Her pale, watery, blue eyes settled on Ruby, who had bowed her head and was looking miserably at her lap.
Babs awkwardly got to her feet. “Right,” she said, feeling very self-conscious about her accent and the amount of makeup she was wearing. “Well, I’d better be off. You be good, Ruby.”
She hesitated for a moment and then leaned over and gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t forget to write.”
Babs walked towards the door, and the round Miss Bunce waddled along following her while Sister Claire stayed beside Ruby.
“Would you like to have a look around the school before you go, Mrs. Morton? Most parents like to see their child settled before they leave.”
“Well, under normal circumstances, of course, I would love to do that,” Babs said, carefully pronouncing each word in what she thought was a posh accent. “But I have got my son in the car, and we’re dropping him off at school also.”
Miss Bunce looked taken aback at the sudden change in Babs’ voice.
She nodded her head once and then said. “Of course, Mrs. Morton. As you wish.”
Babs scurried out of there as if her heels were on fire.
She hated feeling like people were looking down on her, and she started to feel a little guilty about leaving poor Ruby there.
But she quickly shook that feeling off. This was what Ruby deserved. Hopefully, it would be the making of the girl.
Babs was unusually quiet in the passenger seat as they drove to Derek’s school. It was so close, Freddie had pulled up outside less than two minutes later.
It was larger than the girls’ school and appeared more austere. There was no fountain in the driveway for one thing. There were funny little ghoulish animals dotted all around, carved into the stonework, which gave Babs the creeps. She shivered as Freddie opened the car door.
“Come on, Derek,” she said, getting out of the car.
This time, Freddie picked up the case and carried it inside.
A young man with glasses had spotted their arrival and asked them to wait until he went and got Mr. Stockingham.
Babs put a hand to her chest. She was getting indigestion. She hadn’t expected the whole experience to be so stressful.
She looked at her son and felt the familiar stirring of guilt. He looked so sad.
“Cheer up,” Babs snapped. “It is not the end of the world. You’re only here for one term before the summer holidays.”
Derek shot his mother a look that told her exactly how much he appreciated her comments.
He stayed sulkily silent, which irritated Babs no end.
Shortly after that exchange, they were joined by Mr. Stockingham. He was a very tall man and very slim, and he carried a cane.
When Babs saw that, her eyes widened. She hoped he didn’t use that on the children.
But then she noticed he was walking with a slight limp and breathed a sigh of relief. That explained the cane.
Mr. Stockingham gave a small, formal bow, and Babs felt unsure of what to do in response. Blimey. This place was posh. Did he expect her to curtsy, or what?
But she was saved from embarrassing herself when Mr. Stockingham suggested they go into his office.
As they walked along the wood-panelled corridor, they passed a group of boys. They were all wearing blazers and ties and looked ever so smart. No shirts were untucked, and all their shoes were polished to a high shine. But the thing that stood out most for Babs was the fact they were all silent.
There was no laughter or hijinks. There was no shouting out. No boyish behaviour at all, really.
It made Babs feel a little uneasy at first, but then she thought maybe it was a good thing. They looked like little gentlemen. She wouldn’t mind if Derek came home and acted a little more civilised.
Inside Mr. Stockingham’s office, Derek and Babs sat down, and Mr. Stockingham sat behind his desk.
“Welcome to Trumpleton, Derek,” the schoolmaster said in a deep voice. “We run a very tight ship here, but as long as you play by the rules, I’m sure you’ll fit in without any problems.”
Derek didn’t answer but looked up sulkily through his long dark eyelashes at Mr. Stockingham.
Babs leaned over and nudged him hard with her elbow. “Well, what do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” Derek mumbled as Babs glared at him.
Before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock at the office door, and when Babs turned, she saw a short, stout boy with freckles, who had perfectly combed hair.
“Ah, Rogers,” Mr. Stockingham said. “This is Derek Morton. Please show him to the dorm rooms, and he will be joining you for maths this afternoon. Make him feel at home, Rogers.”
Rogers’ eyes flitted to Derek for a second as if he was weighing the boy up and then returned to Mr. Stockingham.
“Of course, sir,” Rogers said in a cut glass accent.
Babs bit her lower lip. Blimey. Was there anyone who didn’t speak like the Queen of England around here?
She hadn’t expected the schools to be quite so posh. She started to worry about how Derek and Ruby would fit in.
All of a sudden it seemed that Derek was whisked off with Rogers to his dorm room, and Babs hadn’t even had a proper chance to say goodbye.
She felt shell shocked as she looked at Mr. Stockingham.
The schoolmaster sat back in his chair, stretching out his long frame as he looked at Babs.
“Now, Mrs. Morton. I know it’s worrying when you send your children away to school for the first time. But I will personally keep an eye on Derek and make sure he gets settled.”
Babs nodded. “Thank you,” she said, trying to put on a posh accent again and failing miserably. “I’ll be off now then.”
“Jolly good.”
Mr. Stockingham showed her out, and as she left the dark school corridor and stepped out into the bright summer sunlight, her eyes watered.
She told herself it was just because the sun was so bright, and blinked furiously, determined not to let Freddie and Jemima see her crying.
&nbs
p; She quickly got into the car, shut the door and stared straight ahead, ignoring Jemima in the back seat and Freddie at the steering wheel.
“Did everything go all right, Babs?” Freddie asked, looking concerned.
“Absolutely fine,” Babs said as her voice broke and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Just drive, Freddie. Just get us home.”
Chapter 12
Arthur Patterson dragged his feet as he made his way to his brother’s boxing club. He was dreading this. How had his stupid son got him into this mess? It was only a quarrel between two schoolboys, that’s all it was. A fair man would have let it go, Arthur thought moodily. Everyone liked to harp on about how fair Dave Carter was. And they called him the greengrocer gangster! Well, that was a laugh.
Dave Carter was the worst of the lot. And now if Arthur didn’t do what Dave Carter had ordered, he would be in deep trouble.
As the large, square building that housed his brother’s boxing club came into view, Arthur felt his stomach churn. His brother was going to bloody kill him when he knew Dave Carter had found out about their little enterprise.
Arthur sighed as he pushed open the door. He didn’t have a choice, so he may as well get it over and done with.
Inside the boxing club, it was warm and smelled of rubber mats mixed with the tang of old perspiration.
Usually, Arthur would have arrived and gotten straight on with the cleaning. He did the changing rooms first followed by the main gym area. Today, though, he needed to talk to his brother first.
His brother, Gregory, was standing on the side of the ring, leaning on the ropes and shouting out encouragement at two of the lads sparring off.
There were only a few lads gathered beside the ring. The rest of them were using the punch bags at the far end of the gym.
Arthur watched the boxing for a moment in silence. The bigger boy should have had the advantage, but it was the younger one, who was faster with his feet and hands, who was getting in the best blows.