‘It isn’t your money, Miss Dundas,’ Fowler said, and moved a little closer to her, and Maggy became aware suddenly of how few people were moving in and out of the lobby now. Earlier it had been busy, with plenty of traffic, but now at not long after half past eleven there was a lull, with few people coming in from the doors that led to the street on each side to wait for lifts. And there were two of them and they did look strong, particularly Porteous. But she lifted her chin and said sharply, ‘If it isn’t mine, then who does it belong to?’
‘To God, ma’am,’ Porteous said, and he too moved closer. ‘We know that this was ill-gotten money. That it was stolen by a bad man and held on to by a bad woman. But she’s dead now, and it’s time the money came to God, because God will wash it clean.’
‘You really believe that,’ Maggy said, staring at him. ‘You really believe all that, don’t you? You believe that Kentish is a truly religious man? You actually believe what he tells you.’
‘I believe the truth, Miss Dundas,’ Porteous said, and now his eyes were so blue that they seemed to bulge outwards. ‘God has his ways of working and he has led our leader to this money. There’s a lot of it, we know, and God can use it to good purpose and make it clean again. So –’ and he reached out one hand towards the jacket.
‘No!’ Theo shouted and hit his hand upwards and Porteous turned with the sharpness of a trained soldier and lifted his arm sideways to make a hard chop, but Fowler was faster than he was. He grabbed Porteous’s shoulder and twisted him round so hard that he almost lost his balance as Maggy shrank back and away from them. Theo was fast too, and came out from between them and over to Maggy and grabbed her and shouted, ‘Run!’
But she pulled away from him, grinning from ear to ear.
‘No, love. No! I’m going to give it to them. They can take it to their leader and much good may it do ’em!’
And she crouched down and put the bundle that was her jacket on the floor and untied the sleeves.
Theo watched her, his mouth half open in amazement and it seemed to him that she moved slowly, almost like a slow-motion film as she pulled on the sleeves and the jacket opened up and he saw the piles of banknotes. And then, still with sickening slowness, she lifted the jacket at each side and tossed it high in the air and the notes went up, twisting and turning lazily in the dim light of the lobby to fall in scattered heaps at their feet. ‘There you are!’ she crowed. ‘There’s nothing for you to follow me for any more, is there? Nothing to hit me on the head for. It’s all there, every last bloody scrap of it!’
And she took Theo’s wrist in one hand and pulled him towards the door, and he, as bemused as though he had been struck, let her take him as the two men fell to their knees and began to scrabble among the heaps of paper at their feet.
‘All of it?’ Ida said. ‘Every bit of it?’
‘Every bloody bit of it,’ Maggy said. ‘I’m sorry, Ida. The Westpark is as lumbered as it ever was. There’s nothing to pay the debts with, and –’
She stopped, staring, because Ida was leaning back in her chair and laughing, her tight smooth face twisted and wrinkled into lines of genuine mirth and her head thrown back as tears ran down her powdered cheeks and left runnels there.
‘What’s so bloody funny?’ Oliver said from the doorway and Maggy turned her head and looked at him.
‘Hello, Maggy, I didn’t know you were here. Nice to see you, ducks. How are things? What’s got into Ida, then? Never saw her laugh like that. Someone tickled her fancy at last?’
‘It’s about the money,’ Theo said, and suddenly he grinned too. ‘And she’s right. It is funny, very funny, if you can stand sick jokes, that is –’
Ida had caught her breath now. ‘Bloody Dolly,’ she said, but she was still grinning. ‘Bloody Dolly! If that isn’t just the sort of thing she wouldn’t think of! It doesn’t seem possible anyone could be so cunning and so daft at the same time.’ And she took a handkerchief from her sleeve and began to wipe her eyes.
‘I wish someone would tell me what the hell this is all about,’ Oliver said petulantly. ‘You sit there shrieking like the witch of Endor and –’
‘I’m not sure it’s any of your business, Oliver,’ Maggy said coolly. ‘Is it, Ida?’
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Ida said, and lifted her brows at Oliver, still grinning.
‘You two are very thick all of a sudden,’ he said, still petulant. ‘Since when did you share girlish jokes?’
‘Since Maggy told me what she found at the safe deposit,’ Ida said and Oliver lifted his head sharply.
‘Ida! For Christ’s sake –’
‘Oh, don’t be so twitchy!’ The laughter had gone from her face now, and she sounded scornful. ‘It’s all over and done with now, so what the hell! He knew about the box, Maggy, knew all the time it was there and he thought he could get what was in it for himself.’
Maggy looked at Oliver, at the pouched sagging face and the bloodshot eyes and thought, how could I ever have wept for him? How could I have ever cared? Poor devil. Poor pathetic devil.
‘Did you, Oliver? Well, you’ll have to face disappointment. Because there was damn all in either of them.’
‘Either of them?’ Oliver came in and sat down on Ida’s desk with a little thump, staring at Maggy. ‘There was only the one, B 11 it was. I took her there over and over, to B 11.’
‘And all the time there was another one, B 9,’ Maggy said softly. ‘And it was stuffed full of banknotes. Fivers and pounds and ten-shilling notes.’
‘Ten-shilling notes,’ Ida said, and laughed again, but shortly this time, without any of the abandon she had shown before. ‘Bloody ten-shilling notes. Isn’t that rich?’
‘But there haven’t been ten-shilling notes for –’ He stopped and stared at Maggy, his eyes widening. ‘Oh, no,’ he almost whispered it. ‘Oh, no.’
‘By George, he’s got it!’ Maggy sang it, her voice high and shrill. ‘By George, he’s got it!’ She was almost hysterical with it all now, and her head was buzzing and everything she looked at seemed to have a haze of light round it, like a nimbus. ‘By George, I think he’s got it –’
Theo moved impatiently in his chair. ‘All right, Maggy, love. Calm down, will you? I know it’s all – but calm down.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She took a deep breath, and then, deliberately, made her shoulders relax and looked at Oliver. ‘Listen, Oliver. She left two boxes. One the lawyer told me about. He said I’d find the money to pay off the debts in it. You knew that.’
‘Yes,’ Oliver said, still almost whispering. He was staring at her with his eyes wide and somehow desolate and that sobered her more than anything else could, and she leaned forward and patted his hand. ‘– and you thought there might be something in it for you, Oliver?’
He shook his head, dumbly, still not taking his eyes from her face but she sighed softly and said, ‘But you did, didn’t you? It was you who hung about on the stairs outside my flat, wasn’t it, that first time I went to the safe deposit? You wanted the key and you thought – oh, Oliver, but you’re stupid, you really are. No one can get into those boxes just by having the key. You have to have a proper authorization! You have to sign. I’m the only one who can sign for either of them. So you wasted your time, didn’t you?’
‘It was him? The mugger?’ Theo said sharply. ‘You stinking little –’
‘Oh, shut up, Theo. He did no harm. He was too damned inefficient, anyway. Poor devil –’
‘I just wanted – I’d have given it to you back. I would, honestly. All I wanted was enough to take care of myself, that’s all. All those years with Dolly, and not blowing a note all that time, and the music was dead in me and – what else can I do? What am I without something of my own? I had to –’
‘I told you you were a fool,’ Ida said dispassionately. ‘I told you when you tried it you were a bloody fool.’
‘It all seemed meant, you know?’ Oliver said, and looked earnestly at Maggy. ‘Honestly, Maggy, I mean
t you no harm, but you talked about it and then you got that taxi and I thought – if I can only get the key from her and see what’s in there I’ll be all right. I meant to ask you again, that was all, and I went to your flat in the train and you weren’t home yet and I had to wait on the stairs and then when you came – it just seemed – oh, it just happened, really –’
‘Bloody fool,’ Ida said again. ‘Because even if you’d got into it there was nothing there. Nothing at all.’
‘It was in another box,’ Maggy said kindly, and reached out and patted his lax damp hand. Poor, poor Oliver. It was amazing that she had ever felt anything for this pathetic creature. ‘So you’d have got nothing, even if you had managed to get the key.’
‘No one’s got anything,’ Ida said then, and once more her mouth curved. It was almost as though she was going to make up for the years when she had not laughed or smiled at all in one short hour. ‘Not a bloody penny.’
‘Is it what I thought?’ Oliver said, and Maggy nodded.
‘Useless out-of-date money,’ she said. ‘White fivers – you remember the old white fivers? Some of them, but mostly pound notes and ten-shilling notes. The whole box stuffed full. And not one of them legal tender any more. They’ve been in there for more than twenty-five years, those notes, with Dolly thinking she was sitting on a fortune and all of it just so much waste paper.’
A little silence fell on the room, and then Oliver took a deep breath and nodded slowly. ‘I can see why you laughed, Ida,’ he said. ‘It’s bloody funny, really.’ But there was no hint of laughter in his face at all.
‘I’ll call Friese later this afternoon,’ Maggy said after a moment. ‘Tell him the place is yours. I’m refusing to employ you, formally, so it reverts to you.’
‘Yes,’ said Ida. ‘You do that.’
‘What will you do, Ida?’ Theo said. ‘The place is more trouble than it’s worth, isn’t it?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing’s worthless when you can work in it. There’s bricks and mortar and furniture and kitchens and – nothing’s worthless. I’ll find a way. I’ve managed before when Dolly was alive, so I’m bloody sure to be able to manage now.’
‘Ida –’ Oliver said and then shook his head and got to his feet. ‘I’d better go, I think. Got things to do –’ He stumbled to the door, and then Ida said harshly, ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, man, stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourself. You can stay if you like. No skin off my nose. I’ll find something for you to do, I dare say. Just keep out of my hair, that’s all. I want no trouble, you hear me? None of your boy-friends and if there’s any hint of drugs here, then out you go –’
He blinked, standing there at the doorway and then slowly nodded. ‘I see. Well, that’s a generous offer, Ida. Thank you. I’ll think about it.’ And he went away and Maggy could hear his feet shuffling on the floor of the lobby outside.
Theo coughed, embarrassed, and said, ‘I suppose you were right, Maggy. I mean, that the money was useless. That the banks wouldn’t have changed it –’
Ida snorted, a thick little sound. ‘Use your head, man! Stolen money. Can you just see it! Oh, hello, Bank Manager! I happen to have here a few hundred thousand pounds in out-of-date banknotes. Just change it, will you, there’s a good chap! Can you just see it?’
Theo grinned. ‘Maybe Andy’s little friends’ll try that?’
‘I hope they do.’ Maggy said it with real venom. ‘Oh, Christ, I hope they do. They won’t know the money’s dead, will they? Americans – they won’t know. They’ll probably march into a bank and – oh, please God, make them do it! It’ll be marvellous.’
‘Marvellous,’ Theo said and stood up. ‘Marvellous. But Maggy – it’s not just money, is it? That’s not the only reason Lancaster was after you.’
She stared at him, puzzled, and then, slowly her face straightened as the realization came home.
‘Oh, my God,’ she said, her voice flat. ‘Oh, my God.’
There was a little silence and then Theo said carefully, ‘Blackmail.’
‘What? Blackmail? Who?’
‘Lancaster. You could blackmail him. That’s what he’s afraid of.’
‘Are you mad? Do you really think that –’
He shook his head, almost irritably. ‘No. Of course not. But there’s only one way to convince him that you won’t. To make it pointless for him to chase you any more.’
‘I’m not sure I –’
Theo reached for the phone, and dialled, and watched her, smiling a little as he waited for an answer. And then said, crisply, ‘Is that the Daily Mail? Good – get me the News Desk, will you, Joe Gerrard, if possible – yes. I’ll hold –’
They finished their sherry, and then Ida looked at her watch pointedly and Theo said, ‘Maggy – I ought to go to the office, I really should.’
She looked up at him and grinned, a wide relaxed grin. ‘Yes, love. I reckon you should. I’ll come with you. There’s a lot to be done, what with the new album and making up for that concert I blew. Can we get another?’
‘After Lincoln Center? No hassle,’ he said and held out a hand to her and she took it and stood up.
‘I’ll see you, Ida, maybe,’ she said after a moment, a little awkwardly, and Ida, still sitting behind her desk, didn’t look up. ‘Yes,’ she said perfunctorily. ‘I’ll see you. Some time. Don’t forget to call Friese.’
‘I won’t,’ Maggy said. ‘It’ll be a pleasure.
And they went out and across the lobby and out into the street and there was no one waiting there, and no one watching. It was a good feeling.
30
The concert was a sell-out, again, and this time she maintained it all through. The lifting excitement, the sure-ness, the ripple of the notes, it all worked as perfectly as it was meant to; but the elation that filled her was a different kind, this time. Rich and strong and lasting, and not the exhausting drained feeling it was before. She was a musician and the music came right and she was happy.
There was a girl standing in the wings afterwards, in the middle of all the hubbub, a tall thin girl with long hair flopping round her face, and she was holding a record sleeve close to her chest and watching Maggy with big hungry eyes as she came off stage, her face gleaming with sweat.
‘Miss Dundas?’ the girl said. ‘Please, Miss Dundas, would you sign this for me? I wouldn’t bother you, but it’s for my mother. She’s sick, in the hospital, and she’s just crazy about your music, and I want her to have it. If you wouldn’t mind, Miss Dundas.’
Maggy looked at her, at the smooth round face and the wide eyes and said, ‘Your mother? You want me to sign it for your mother?’
‘Yes, please, Miss Dundas,’ the girl said and held it out, and put a pen in her hand and Maggy bent her head and signed the sleeve, but it was difficult because her eyes were full of tears and she could hardly see.
She was crying for her own mother, who was dead.
THE POPPY CHRONICLES
An enthralling historical saga …
AVAILABLE in E-BOOK: February 2010
Mildred Amberly – suffocating in affluent Leinster Terrace – doomed at 28 to be an old maid. Lizah ‘Kid’ Harris – a Jewish boxer from London’s East End – living from one fight to the next. Worlds apart …
But one rainy night Mildred takes a cab across London into Lizah’s world – a world of drama, excitement and teeming life. But if she has escaped Leinster Terrace, Mildred can’t get away from its values … And Lizah’s family exerts pressures of its own. The past will tear them apart …
Yet out of all this conflict comes Poppy – with her mother’s strong will and her father’s boundless appetite for life. Poppy, whose first memories are of Queen Victoria’s jubilee, who will live through two world wars, and witness a century of change …
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