Her Father's Daughter

by June Tate

  Table of Contents

  A Selection of Titles by June Tate

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A Selection of Titles by June Tate

  RICHES OF THE HEART

  NO ONE PROMISED ME TOMORROW

  FOR THE LOVE OF A SOLDIER

  BETTER DAYS

  NOTHING IS FOREVER

  FOR LOVE OR MONEY

  EVERY TIME YOU SAY GOODBYE

  TO BE A LADY

  WHEN SOMEBODY LOVES YOU

  THE TALK OF THE TOWN

  A FAMILY AFFAIR

  THE RELUCTANT SINNER

  BORN TO DANCE

  THEIR GUILTY PLEASURES

  HER FATHER’S DAUGHTER

  HER FATHER’S DAUGHTER

  June Tate

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First published in Great Britain and the USA 2012 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

  This eBook edition first published in 2012 by Severn Digital an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

  Copyright © 2012 by June Tate

  The right of June Tate to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Tate, June.

  Her father’s daughter.

  1. Southampton (England)–Social conditions–20th

  century–Fiction.

  I. Title

  823.9'2-dc23

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-313-6 (epub)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8203-5 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-451-6 (trade paper)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  With love to my family.

  Maxine, Beverley, Ronnie, Katie and Samantha.

  One

  November 1945

  Victoria Teglia sat in her office in the Club Valletta which was due to be opened the following day. She picked up the framed photograph of her late father who had died when she was a small baby and murmured, ‘Well, Dad, what do you think? Does this meet with your approval?’

  Carrying the picture she walked through the corridor into the main room of the club. The tables in the dining area were laid ready for the next day with damask tablecloths, cutlery, glasses and a low table decoration of small flowers. Running down one side of the room was a well-stocked bar, the bottles of spirits lined up on optics, the glass shelves gleaming beneath the many bottles displayed. There was a small area cleared for dancing and the stage dressed ready for the three-piece band that would play for the patrons on a Saturday night and on special occasions. At other times there would be a pianist or piped music in the background.

  She opened the door leading into the gaming room. There were three roulette tables and other tables to be used for card games. She walked round checking that everything was in a pristine condition.

  Returning to the bar, she poured a gin and tonic and sat on a bar stool, standing the photo where she could gaze at it. The steady expression of her father, Vittorio, once known as The Maltese, for that was where he was born, seemed to stare back at her.

  ‘The club may carry the same name, Father dear, but it will be run very differently,’ she muttered. ‘There will be no brasses working here now and the gambling will be legitimate . . . What do you think about that, I wonder?’ She raised a glass towards the photo and sipped the contents.

  Vittorio Teglia had met his death in this building many years before – whilst Victoria was a baby – when he tried to save another man who was trapped in the blaze that had burnt out the upper storey. As a child, having been told this, Victoria had considered her father to be a hero, until she’d started school and been taunted about her late father by other pupils who had said he was a criminal. When she’d questioned her mother, Lily, about it she’d been fobbed off with various excuses until, as a teenager, her mother had taken her aside and told her the truth, when once again his past had been brought up by a girl she had thought of as a friend. She remembered the conversation clearly.

  Victoria had returned home upset by the remarks and had been in tears at what she thought was an outrageous attack on the character of a man she had always considered so brave and courageous.

  Taking her hand Lily said, ‘It’s time you knew the truth about your father, Victoria.’

  The girl’s heart sank.

  ‘Your father died a hero and don’t you ever forget that! But . . . he wasn’t a saint. The Club Valletta was an exclusive establishment, used by the upper echelon of Southampton’s society, the rich and wealthy used to go there all the time. They ate the finest food in the classiest surroundings, with staff to tend to their every need and, if they so wished, there were also hostesses to keep them company.’

  Victoria looked horrified. ‘Hostesses? Do you mean prostitutes? Did my father run a brothel?’

  ‘Well, if you must be quite so blunt then – yes, he did. But the women were hand-picked by him. They were clean and many were well educated.’

  ‘But that’s illegal!’ She was outraged. ‘How could you love a man like that?’

  ‘Oh, Victoria, how easy it is for you to sit in judgement! You have no idea how things were in those days. Your father took me in when I was in dire straits. I knew what he was as he never pretended to be anything else. He was intelligent, charming and he took care of me. I grew to love him deeply and when I became pregnant with you, he was delighted and when you were born, he idolized you. Had he lived, you would have loved him too.’

  Victoria was speechless. The picture she’d carried with her of the man who’d fathered her – destroyed. She didn’t know what to say for a minute. Then she asked, ‘How did he get away with it?’

  ‘Vittorio had friends in high places; many of them used the club in fact, so if the police were planning a raid, he was forewarned and so he kept ahead of the law. But nevertheless he was a man of principle, which may surprise you. He paid his bills on time, he looked after his staff – and he looked after me.’ Seeing the stricken face of her daughter, she added, ‘He wasn�
��t a bad man, Victoria.’

  In the years that followed, she had learned even more about her father’s life mixing with the world of criminals. It worried her and fascinated her at the same time and now she was in partnership with George Coleman, who’d been Vittorio’s right-hand man.

  Coleman had been left a large sum of money in Vittorio’s will as a reward for the years of loyalty he’d shown. He had given up a life of crime, had invested the money and, just before the end of the war a few months ago, had bought the building with the intention of opening up a new Club Valletta. When Victoria had returned from France as a member of the WRNS and wondering what the devil she was going to do once she’d been demobbed, he’d offered her a partnership.

  She smiled slowly as she looked at the photo. How ironic it was. She was going down a similar path, but this time the law was on their side. She’d had to get the licence in her name as George did have a criminal record and, even though he’d been straight for a number of years, no way was the law going to allow him to hold the licence.

  When Victoria had first told her mother of her plans, Lily had been concerned.

  ‘I think the idea of a club is fine, but to call it by the same name I think is a big mistake! People have long memories. They won’t remember your father’s heroism, only that the club was run by The Maltese, one of Southampton’s biggest villains and is now being reopened by his daughter. You’ll end up as notorious as your father!’ Angry words had been exchanged.

  It was Luke Langford, Victoria’s stepfather, who had calmed Lily down when she told him of her concerns. He and Lily had been married when Victoria was a small child and they ran the Langford Hotel in Cumberland Place.

  ‘It’s different now, Lily,’ he’d said. ‘Times have changed. Besides, George wouldn’t let any harm come to Victoria, she’s as precious to him as Vittorio was. I don’t see a problem here.’

  Lily didn’t argue further. Luke hadn’t experienced the seedy side of life as she’d been forced to do. As the mistress of The Maltese, Lily had been witness to the workings of local gangsters trying to muscle in on Vittorio’s territory, been aware of how such things had been dealt with. Oh no, she didn’t want this for her daughter. Even though everything was supposed to run within the bounds of the law, who knows what would crawl out of the woodwork once it was known the daughter of The Maltese was in business now and in the same establishment? It was inevitable and she was filled with trepidation.

  Early the following morning a reporter for The Southern Evening Echo called for an interview with the new owner of the club. He arrived with a photographer who had taken pictures of the interior. George had declined to be interviewed and had left Victoria to handle the young man. It wasn’t long before the inevitable questions about Vittorio arose.

  ‘Miss Teglia, will the new club be run on the same lines as when your late father owned it?’ he asked with a sly grin.

  Victoria looked him straight in the eye. ‘Unfortunately my father died when I was a baby, so I have no idea how he ran his establishment, but Mr Coleman and I intend to offer an excellent menu, good service, a great ambience and a place that members can truly enjoy.’

  ‘I see it’s you who holds the license as it’s your name over the door. Is this because Mr Coleman has a prison record?’

  Victoria felt her hackles rise, but she remained calm and smiled. ‘Young man, you are looking for a story to sell your paper and that’s your job, I have a new business to sell and that’s mine. I just hope we can keep this on a civilized level. I will be using your paper in the future to advertise, it would be a pity if you were the means of the paper losing this lucrative business because you decided to make a sensation out of nothing!’

  He gazed at her with admiration. Here was a spirited young woman and he liked that. Closing his notebook he rose from his seat. Looking around he said, ‘Well you’ve done a great job here, Miss Teglia, I wish you luck with the opening this evening.’

  Victoria walked him to the door and shook his hand. ‘I’ll look forward to reading your report,’ she told him.

  George was waiting for her as he’d been listening. ‘Cheeky young pup! I wanted to smack him one.’

  ‘No more than I did!’ she exclaimed, ‘but we have a business to run and we don’t want to be scuppered before we open.’

  Invitations had been sent to all the major businessmen of the town inviting them to the grand opening night with a view to becoming a member. A uniformed doorman would stand guard for casual customers, sorting the wheat from the chaff and letting in only those he thought suitable as future patrons.

  ‘I don’t want any rough stuff,’ Victoria warned him. ‘I want you to be polite at all times, but firm with any undesirables. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  Eventually the doors were due to open for business. There was a great air of excitement among the hand-picked staff inside the club that night as they waited for the doors to open for the first time. Victoria felt sick in the pit of her stomach and went into the kitchen for a dry biscuit to nibble on.

  With a look of sympathy, the chef handed her one. ‘It’ll be fine Miss Teglia, you’ll see. The town needs a bit of excitement, the war has sapped everyone and now they want to enjoy themselves. You wait; we’ll be packed out before the night’s end!’ And he was right.

  No sooner had the doors opened, people started arriving. Some came because it was a new venture; others, who were older and remembered Vittorio, came out of curiosity. A few of these had been patrons in the old days and half hoped to see things as they used to be. They soon realized this wasn’t so. Some men had brought their wives and girlfriends which pleased Victoria as it gave the place a real air of respectability.

  Luke arrived alone. Victoria knew that Lily couldn’t face coming to the building, it held such bad memories for her and although she’d helped Victoria to choose the furnishing for the club, was yet to step inside. However, she’d sent her daughter a huge bouquet of flowers wishing her luck, which brought tears to Victoria’s eyes as she read the card.

  Good luck, darling. Enjoy tonight as it will never feel quite the same again. Just want to say how proud I am of you and your father would be too. xxx

  Victoria loved Luke, her stepfather, who had officially adopted her when he and Lily married. She’d opted to keep her own name in memory of her father and, despite the genuine affection she felt for Luke, there was a deep void in her life that could never be filled. Her father had held her as a baby but she was too young to remember, however hard she tried. She read the card again and hoped Vittorio would have been a proud father.

  Luke was very enthusiastic as he was taken on a tour by George Coleman. He hugged Victoria and shook George by the hand. ‘My word, you’ve both done a great job here, the place looks absolutely splendid!’

  George invited him to the bar for a drink to celebrate, leaving Victoria to work the room. She talked to all the customers in turn using her natural charm to make them welcome, flattering the ladies, saying she hoped to see them again, answering questions about membership fees and any other queries. She then walked over to the bar towards a young man, tastefully dressed, who stood surveying his surroundings.

  ‘Good evening,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘You seem to have taken a good look round; do you like what you see?’

  He gazed into her eyes, his own twinkling at her as he said, ‘Oh yes. Very attractive, very classy.’

  It was said with such charm that she had to laugh. Holding out her hand she said, ‘Victoria Teglia – and you are?’

  He held her hand firmly in his. ‘Johnny Daniels at your service. Nice place you have here. Classy, I like that.’

  ‘Are you a local?’ she asked, intrigued by him.

  ‘No, Miss Teglia, I’m a Londoner, recently moved here. Expanding my business interests.’

  ‘What kind of business?’

  ‘Construction. During the war, as you can imagine, with the devastation caused by the bombing, I
was busy and now I’m able to expand my business here, too.’ He handed her a business card:

  JOHN DANIELS.

  DANIELS CONSTRUCTION INCORPORATED.

  5, HIGH STREET. SOUTHAMPTON.

  ‘Like you, my business in the town is new. Here, let me buy you a drink and we can toast success to both of us. What’ll it be?’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Daniels, a gin and tonic with ice and lemon.’

  George Coleman, standing quietly in the corner of the room, watched the two of them and frowned. He was immediately suspicious of the young shaver and walked over to the bar.

  ‘Mr Daniels here is new to the town, let me introduce you. Mr Daniels, this is George Coleman, we are partners in this business.’

  Daniels looked up sharply when he heard the name, but immediately smiled at George. ‘Good evening, sir. Nice place you have here.’

  ‘Thanks.’ George didn’t smile in return. ‘So what’s your business then?’

  Johnny gave him the same spiel as he’d given Victoria.

  ‘Whereabouts in London are you from, son?’

  The young man became watchful. ‘Camden.’

  ‘I know the area well,’ said George, ‘don’t remember any such construction company there.’

  ‘Ah, that’s because we worked near the docks, Camden is where I lived. Can I buy you a drink Mr Coleman?’

  George shook his head. ‘No thanks, not now. Victoria and I have work to do.’

  She took the hint. ‘Sorry, have to go, enjoy your evening.’ Catching up with George she said, ‘You were a bit abrupt weren’t you?’

  ‘Something dodgy about that lad, don’t know what as yet, but I’ll find out if he applies for membership.’ And he walked away.

  Victoria cast a glance over her shoulder towards the bar, but Johnny Daniels had left.

  At that moment, Luke came over to her, kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘Sorry, dear, but I have to get back to the hotel, but this all looks an unqualified success. Well done, I’m really proud of you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, Luke. Thank Mum for the flowers and tell her all about the club, I know she’ll be anxious to know how it went.’