by Carol Rivers
As, in very high spirits, they continued their walk home in the dusky summer’s night, they listened to Hector’s plans of what he would sing at the club.
‘Perhaps,’ said Marie cautiously, ‘it might be better to find out what Mr Scoresby wants.’
But Hector gave a rumble of laughter. ‘You were always the careful one, my love. Just like your mother; solid as a rock. But tonight we’ve all had a stroke of luck, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Vesta immediately.
‘The Haskins family are about to make their mark on the East End,’ said Hector with a broad grin. ‘And let me do the talking when we get in. I know just the thing to say.’
As Marie met Vesta’s gaze, they both silently acknowledged they doubted this. Though neither of them would hurt Hector’s feelings by saying so.
Teddy jumped cheerfully down the steps of the basement and entered the dimly lit club. This time he had a genuine smile on his face. Wally would be pleased with him. Getting the two girls on board was a feather in his cap. And his suggestion regarding their father had brought an ugly smile to Wally’s face, as they both realized the old boy could be of use to them. Luckily, his plan had worked very nicely.
Teddy looked around the deserted club and saw Irene attempting her work behind the bar. Her listless movements told him that the bosses were not around. After the departure of Sid Rigler, the hired hand, Irene had been told to clear up the place. Teddy had also been allotted some of Sid’s duties, which hadn’t gone down at all well with Teddy. He hated sweeping the dusty floors and cleaning out the lavatories. He didn’t mind attending to the stage and the lights, but he was above more menial jobs.
‘Drink?’ asked Irene, wiping the bar top with a cloth. She removed the cigarette from between her lips and ground it out in the still full ashtray.
‘Where’s Wally?’
‘Out the back with Leo.’
Teddy perched himself on one of the tall stools, making sure his gaze was directed at the door that led out into the passage and the office. He wasn’t taking any chances. If Wally caught him sitting around, it wouldn’t bode well for him.
‘A quick one.’ He nodded to the brandy. ‘A double.’
Irene smiled, her normally garish red lips distinctly pale. Teddy studied her slim figure as she turned and poured his drink. Nice legs and a good arse. She called herself a dancer, like the other girls did. He smiled to himself. Blonde Shirley was next on his list, but he’d have to wait as she was amusing Leo at the moment. Not that she would last long; Leo’s women never did. Perhaps it was because Wally used them first; it was share and share alike for the Scoresbys. Amusing to Teddy, and quite enjoyable, when he was left to pick up the crumbs.
Irene turned back to him, her turban covering her thick, dark hair, which matched her exotic dark eyes. Sadly the rest of her face was plump and her mouth set in a disagreeable pout. The last time they had gone to bed, he’d made a note to finish with her. If she’d kept her mouth shut, their affair might have gone on longer. But she drove him crazy with her gossip. The last people he wanted to think about when he was in the mood were the Scoresbys.
Pulling back his shoulders and tugging the white cuffs of his shirt below the jacket sleeves, he lifted the tumbler and sucked down the hot amber liquid. He had a thing for brandy. Especially when it was free, when Irene poured him one.
‘When are you gonna come round?’ Irene placed her elbows on the bar and cupped her chin in her hands seductively. Teddy wanted to tell her she looked ridiculous in the turban, trying to make eyes at him. But he was careful. He didn’t want to make an enemy of anyone here at the club.
‘Not yet,’ he told her. ‘Wally’s on the prowl.’
‘I’m over him.’ Irene tossed her head, another silly movement. ‘He can’t treat me like a common tart.’
‘But he’s not over you.’ Teddy gave her a helpless shrug. ‘You’re too pretty to forget. I saw him watching you. And we both know what that means.’
Irene fluttered her dark eyelashes. ‘Teddy bear, I do believe you’ve got a case of the green-eye.’
He smirked. ‘Could be.’
She laughed, squirming on the counter. ‘He ain’t a patch on you.’
Teddy lowered his voice confidingly. ‘Listen, I don’t want to risk it. Not when Wally’s just outed Sid. You won’t see him back here again.’
This bombshell made Irene’s jaw drop. ‘Sid’s really gone?’
Teddy nodded slowly. ‘Keep it under your hat.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I drove Sid to Hoxton last night. On Wally’s orders.’
‘Hoxton?’
Teddy watched the penny drop slowly.
‘You mean, to that bookie he was ducking?’
Teddy nodded again. ‘Wally didn’t want the bookie coming on his turf. And Sid was up to his eyeballs.’
‘So what happened to Sid?’ Irene had stopped moving and was staring at him.
‘I told you, he won’t be coming back.’
Irene’s mouth fell open slowly. ‘Christ, Teddy, you mean Wally – he—’
‘Watch it!’ muttered Teddy, downing the last of the brandy as the door opened. ‘Wally’s back.’
Irene turned sharply away and Teddy slid off the stool. The alcohol gave him a buzz, but it didn’t stop the blood draining from his face as he hurried round to Wally Scoresby.
‘I told the girls, Mr Scoresby, and their father. I said exactly what you told me to say.’
Wally Scoresby stared at him and slid a cigar from the inside pocket of his hand-made Savile Row jacket. Teddy felt his blood freeze as he stared into Wally’s disfigured face. Teddy knew he deliberately used the burn scars from the acid attack a few years back to intimidate, but that didn’t mean he was immune to Wally’s power. The man was terrifying. He exuded threat, unlike his brother, Leo, who had the brains and beauty that Wally had missed out on. Leo had a knack for money and fictionalizing the accounts. Teddy knew that Wally’s greed added up to a violent, cold-blooded individual, whilst Leo was by far the deadlier. He was good-looking, suave and charming; and possessed a killer instinct with a selective, intelligent force behind it. You couldn’t fool Leo. But you stood a chance with Wally, if you played him right.
‘Get me a drink,’ Wally said.
Teddy returned to Irene, who was busying herself behind the bar. ‘Quick, Irene, Mr Scoresby’s usual.’
Irene glanced fearfully at him as she poured the whisky. Teddy grasped it, following after Wally, who had walked across the room to the stage.
‘Here you are, Mr Scoresby.’
‘I told you I wanted the women on their own.’
Teddy stopped dead. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘You will be if you don’t listen in future.’ Wally turned and pointed the lighted end of the cigar close to Teddy’s face. ‘What was their old man doing here?’
‘I . . . I don’t know,’ faltered Teddy, momentarily unnerved. ‘He just appeared when I collected them.’
‘And you told him to clear off?’
‘Well, I did try to—’
‘You spineless little bleeder.’ Wally snatched the tumbler from Teddy’s hand. ‘Do I have to spell everything out for you?’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Scoresby,’ Teddy said again, desperately.
Wally threw the drink back, then stared unblinkingly at Teddy. He pushed the empty glass into Teddy’s chest. ‘This time you’re forgiven, Romeo. What age did you say those girls were?’
‘Eighteen.’
‘They’re just acts, right, hired to sing and dance, if the law comes sniffing around? No booze, no mixing with the men, not this lot, anyway. I’m saving them for something else.’
‘Yes, Mr Scoresby.’
‘And, Teddy, get shot of Irene. She’s a nosy cow.’
Teddy felt the blood pump at his temples. ‘Me?’ he repeated hoarsely.
‘Yes, you Sonny Jim. You found her, you get rid of her. She knows too much. I don’t trust h
er to keep her gob shut.’
‘But what shall I tell her?’
Wally screwed up his face, making the disfigured side even more grotesque. ‘That’s your problem.’
‘What if she . . . well, refuses?’
Wally gave him a deadpan expression. ‘Learn from your mistakes, boy. You don’t have no said to you. If you do, then you deal with the problem. And I mean deal with it. Right?’
Teddy swallowed. He felt as though he’d been hit by a truck. What did Wally mean? He’d delivered Sid to the bookie, but all in one piece and still breathing. He wasn’t a killer. He couldn’t take a life.
‘Cheer up.’ Wally poked him in the chest with his thumb, whilst his cigar smoke streamed into Teddy’s eyes. ‘This is just the beginning of your illustrious career in the entertainment business. You got talents, you have. Pretty ones. A nice clean boat race, no marks – yet. And I take it that’s the way you’d like to keep it?’
Again Teddy swallowed as the lighted end of the cigar passed inches away from his face. He had nothing to say – he knew Wally wasn’t looking for an answer.
‘Now, run along, cos I’m the boss and though I’m enjoying meself standing here giving you grief – and you’re standing there taking it cos you’re too shit-scared to do anything else – I’ve got other things on my mind. Piss off and get the action ready for tonight. Tell the girls they do three numbers, then change and come out and mingle. They get the blokes plastered and make sure it’s cash up front. Pedro’s running the bar. He’ll see the women’s cocktails are water. If I catch any of the cows drinking, they’re out the door that very minute. Got it?’
Teddy nodded again. He watched Wally walk to the bar and lean against it, stretching across to stroke Irene’s shoulder. There was fear in her eyes as she looked up at him and he trailed his finger over her skin. The same kind of fear that was now inside Teddy’s stomach.
Chapter 12
Marie and Vesta rehearsed their songs when they came home from work each night. They wanted to show Wally Scoresby that the Haskins girls had something special.
‘Are you sure this man is a decent sort?’ Ada asked again on Friday evening as she served up the supper. Hector had assured her when they’d returned from the audition that everything was all up and above board. Since then, he had embellished the truth, Marie noticed, by singing Wally Scoresby’s praises.
‘He definitely has an eye for talent,’ Hector said as he tucked into a slice of meat pie and mash. ‘Must have as he offered me a job too.’
‘It sounds very odd to me,’ Ada concluded, as she placed the girls’ meals before them. ‘Fancy offering you a job without seeing what you do!’
‘You haven’t much faith in me, Ada,’ Hector replied mildly. ‘I’ll have a real job, like you’ve always wanted. I thought you would be pleased. I shall be there to keep an eye on the girls whilst doing my bit as well.’
‘Hector, love,’ Ada smiled patiently as she sat down at the table, ‘you must have your head in the clouds. Even I know that your singing and reciting is now out of date.’
‘Yes, Dad, Mum’s right.’ For once Vesta agreed with her mother. ‘Can’t you sing something modern?’
Hector put down his knife and fork with a sombre frown. ‘Yes, perhaps I should.’
‘Why don’t you sing a Harry Lauder song?’ asked Marie quickly. ‘Your voice is just like his.’
Hector nodded. ‘Good idea.’
‘Now eat up, everyone.’ Ada swiftly changed the subject. ‘Whatever happens, you need to keep up your strength.’
After supper, Vesta put her arms around Ada. ‘Thank you, Mum. I didn’t think you’d be so encouraging.’
‘You’re big girls now. And anyway, your dad will be with you.’
Marie laughed. ‘Or rather, we shall be with him!’
They all began to laugh as they washed and dried the dishes. But Marie could see that Ada was trying not to show her concern, whilst Hector was back to clearing his throat and puffing out his chest, fiddling with the knob on the radio in case Harry Lauder was being broadcast.
‘I was afraid Mum might spoil things,’ Vesta whispered that night as they lay in bed. ‘But for once she encouraged us.’
‘She wasn’t expecting all three of us to get jobs.’
‘Especially Dad, who is a bit old to take up performing again, don’t you think?’
‘Just goes to show it’s never too late,’ Marie said eagerly.
‘But it’s men like Teddy who catch a girl’s eye.’
‘One girl in particular,’ Marie laughed as she lay back on the pillow.
Vesta sighed longingly as she, too, lay down. ‘I haven’t seen Teddy all week. Nor has Elsie.’
‘Did you ask her, then?’
‘Yes. She said he goes out early and comes in late. Some nights she doesn’t think he comes home at all.’
‘Where would he go?’
‘To the club, of course. Oh, Marie, can you believe we are really going to sing and dance there?’
‘It hasn’t sunk in yet.’
‘I wonder if there will be lots of people watching us.’
‘There were plenty of tables and chairs.’
‘I wonder what the other girls are like.’
‘They were all very pretty and could dance. Now, I’d better turn off the lamp or else we’ll never get to sleep. And tomorrow is our big day.’
‘I’m too excited to sleep.’
But it was Marie who remained awake, wondering what would happen on their first performance at the club the following night. Mr Scoresby hadn’t said anything about their costumes, so they planned to wear the pink dresses again. Their act was now word- and dance-perfect; the only thing missing was the sheet music for the piano player to follow.
This problem had been discussed with Elsie, who had a friend who owned a music shop in Bethnal Green. But nothing had come of that yet.
Marie turned restlessly towards the open window. It was a hot summer’s night, the last in August. As the warm breeze blew in, it carried all the scents of the river. She remembered the day at the park with Bing when the same smells had felt exciting and new, and she had challenged Bing to sing for her. She couldn’t forget the way he had looked into her eyes and sung ‘I’m Through With Love’. His voice had given her sweet chills. And yet the magic had seemed lost as soon as he’d talked about settling down.
Marie finally drifted off. She dreamed of sparkling costumes, the mellow lights of the Duke’s and the attentive audience who, in her dreams, were sitting at the tables watching the twins’ act. She saw their dressing rooms with little lights all around the mirrors. In her imagination she could smell the make-up and perfume of the artistes in the air. And the applause . . . she could even hear that too.
The next day they hurried home from work at twelve thirty. As soon as they got in, Elsie stopped them. ‘Come in, I’ve got something for you. Your mother has gone to the market, so I’ll make you a cuppa and we’ll have some cake.’
‘We’ll just change into something cooler.’ Marie and Vesta hurried into their bedroom and took off their heavy, uncomfortable working overalls. Their cool summer dresses felt much better. When they returned to Elsie, she had a tray of tea and cakes ready and waiting.
‘Sit down and tuck in, girls.’
Marie loved Elsie’s part of the house. They were sitting in two big, tub-shaped chairs made of leather. The room was full of old, quality furniture, heavy drapes and thick carpeting. Elsie had hundreds of mementoes of the theatre all over the shelves and on the walls. Being the landlady of the Cubby Hole, she had been given these over the years by artistes appearing at the Queen’s and other London theatres.
There were all sorts of programmes, pamphlets, posters and postcards scattered over the surfaces. A tall glass-fronted cupboard was full of china pieces, and silver and gold from royal celebrations and distinguished theatrical events. Like the twins, she had a Victor phonograph in one corner, but the horn on Elsie’s was like a
big open flower, whilst theirs had a long, conical brass cone. There were piles of heavy Victor records next to this, and placed on the wall behind the cushion-strewn sofa was a bevelled mirror with decorative fans etched on either side. It was not just an interesting room, but a cosy one, furnished with memories from Elsie’s past. Her collection of many photographs recorded her life with Joe in the East End. Joe had looked like their father with a big, drooping moustache. He had been a thespian in his early days, so Elsie said. She loved to talk about their years at the pub and the variety of people they met there.
But now Elsie was rooting around in her big Gladstone bag where she kept her important papers. ‘I’ve managed to get you what you wanted for tonight.’
‘Did your friend with the music shop have our music?’ Vesta asked excitedly.
‘No, I didn’t have time to go up to Bethnal Green. So I popped into the Cubby Hole instead. I knew Bing would be able to help us.’
‘Bing?’ Marie and Vesta said together.
‘Don’t look so surprised. He is a musician, you know.’
‘I wouldn’t have called him that,’ said Vesta.
‘Then you’d be wrong, ducks,’ said Elsie, passing them the sheet music. ‘He’s a very talented young man.’
‘But he only plays in a pub,’ protested Vesta as she sipped her tea. ‘On an old honky-tonk piano.’
‘Don’t look down your nose at him, dear,’ said Elsie warningly, giving Vesta a long stare. ‘A lot of talent is discovered in places like the Cubby Hole. Joe and me saw many a good singer and dancer begin their career with a knees-up.’
‘Sorry,’ said Vesta, going red. ‘I forgot you and Joe were the landlords.’
Elsie shrugged. ‘It was different in those days, I’ll grant you. Everyone could have a go. They all stood the same chance if they had talent.’