Not All Tarts Are Apple

by Pip Granger

  Uncle Bert whistled through his teeth. ‘Well, I’ll be buggered,’ he muttered to no one in particular. ‘Remind me not to get on the wrong side of Mrs Wong, will you?’

  After the troops had left, only the usual mob remained, with the addition of Sharky and Muriel. They were cordially invited to stay for the evening as there was much to discuss. The Perfumed Lady was showing signs of restlessness, however. She began to talk about leaving but she was told in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t going anywhere until things had been sorted, once and for all.

  ‘Listen, love,’ Auntie Maggie explained gently. ‘I know the last day or two have been hard on you, but we need you where we can lay hands on you in a hurry. If we let you out of here, there’s no telling when we’ll track you down again and what state you’ll be in when we do find you. You know what a flighty piece you can be. The little bugger will be back and there’s no saying what his next scheme will be like. At least stay and talk things over so we can make some sort of plan.’

  Great-aunt Dodie was not so kind. ‘Yes, Cassandra, we need you here for the time being. I also think it is long past time for some explanations, don’t you?’ My mum opened her mouth to protest but Great-aunt Dodie held up her hand for silence. ‘Please don’t start whining, Cassandra, and listen. If Clunt insists on involving Godfrey, and there’s every indication that he has already, there’s no predicting what he will do. The thing is, you’ve shirked your responsibilities long enough. It is time to grow up and face them.’

  My mum started pacing like a caged animal. ‘I’m not staying here for bloody ever. I have a life too, you know. It might not seem much to you but I like it and I want to get on with it. I went to great lengths to get away from Godfrey and my mother and I have no intention of ever seeing either of them again. So get that into your heads right now.’

  But Great-aunt Dodie had what I shall always think of as that ‘Afghan’ look in her eyes. ‘Oh do shut up,’ she said, ‘there’s a good girl. What makes you think we’re even mildly interested in what passes for your life? There will still be men and gin out there when we’ve finished with you. And Clunt’s right; heirs from Charles are most unlikely. Not only do you have to secure Rosa’s future but you must think of your shares in the family business as well. It would suit Godfrey to have another ally, however young. Has it ever occurred to you how very useful Rosa would be to him if he could get his hands on her?’

  This little speech had the most astounding effect on the Perfumed Lady. She had absolute hysterics. She began to thrash about blindly, screaming at us all that nothing on earth was going to make her have anything to do with Godfrey or the business, so we had better get used to the idea. Then she grabbed her handbag and made a break for the door. If Great-aunt Dodie hadn’t been so nippy on her feet, she’d have made it too. It took Auntie Maggie, Madame Zelda and Great-aunt Dodie to get her back, still shrieking like a banshee. She really didn’t like Godfrey, you could tell. What’s more, she was obviously deeply afraid of him.

  I was still sitting on Mr Herbert’s lap when she started ranting and throwing herself about, and for a moment she looked as though she was going to grab hold of me. Very gently he stood me on the floor, then led me by the hand upstairs out of the way. It was kind of him as he must have realized that she scared me. We could still hear her, though. It took ages and several stiff gins to calm her down.

  I’m not sure what else happened that night. Auntie Maggie came upstairs after a while and put me to bed. She must have forgotten that I’d had no tea and she looked so worried that I didn’t like to remind her. Luckily, Mr Herbert and I had raided the biscuit tin on the way upstairs, so I wasn’t starving to actual death.

  What with one thing and another, we’d all forgotten that I was supposed to be at school the Monday Charlie had turned up. This meant that I was a day late and missed choosing a seat by the window with my mates. I ended up having to share a desk with Enie Smales. Yuk! Enie always smelled of stale pee and unwashed clothes. I was far from thrilled and laid the blame squarely on Charlie Fluck and the Perfumed Lady.

  Auntie Maggie was unusually flustered on the Tuesday morning as she got me ready. She had to go into school to explain why I had been missing. We didn’t tell them the truth, of course, our business being none of theirs, but made something up about a visit from my long-lost great-aunt, which had the virtue of being sort of true. She had visited us on that Monday and she had been long-lost. We didn’t trouble to mention that we’d seen tons of her over the last few weeks. Funny the distinctions that grown-ups make about lying. If a kid does it, then it’s automatically bad, bad, bad. If a grown-up they don’t like does it and gets found out, the same rules apply, only more so. If they do it themselves, however, it is perfectly understandable and is one of those famous ‘white lies’ you hear so much about. Anyway, we bent the truth to fit our needs and you could say we were punished; but more about that later.

  To an outsider, it might have seemed that things got back to normal pretty quickly after Charlie’s visit, but they didn’t. First off, everyone was jumpy; we knew we hadn’t heard the last of Charlie and his schemes. Also, we knew exactly where my mum was.

  Now, knowing the whereabouts of the Perfumed Lady when she wasn’t lolling in our spare bed or throwing up in our khazi was not easy. We never knew where she was unless she was under our feet, so to speak. This time we did. Great-aunt Dodie had marched her off to a clinic near Harley Street where she was locked up. She was kept away from booze, drugs and men and fed at regular intervals, so my great-aunt said. I was very worried that locking her up was a bit like putting her in prison and that it was cruel. Auntie Maggie said it wasn’t as simple as that. She was ill and needed caring for for a while.

  I knew this was true but to lock her up? I wasn’t at all sure about that bit. I must admit that my concern was pretty selfish. If she got locked up for being ill, what would happen to me next time I was poorly? It was a big worry. However, both Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert assured me that security was not that good and if she really, really wanted to leg it, she could. They reckoned that although she was complaining long and loud, part of her wanted to be kept in a safe place. They thought that the attack of the screaming abdabs had made her stop and think a bit. They explained that what ailed my mum was not the same thing at all as measles, mumps or chickenpox and that I needn’t worry about being locked away myself. It was a relief. It was also untrue as it turned out, but they weren’t to know that.

  The first week or so of the new term was a bit of a blur. Not only was I stuck next to Smelly Smales (I’m ashamed to say her nickname was my idea), but things were tense at home too. I do remember our new teacher, Miss Hampton, though. She was weird; pale, fey and from the Fen country. We did a lot of geography, history and English about the Fens before she disappeared without trace after half-term. To this day, Miss Hampton’s face is imprinted on my brain. You see, her disappearance was connected to me in a way.

  We were playing in the playground about three weeks after term started. In fact, it was exactly three weeks after it started; even I couldn’t be vague about that. We had all been playing and Miss Hampton was on playground duty. The rest of the school had just filed in because the end-of-play bell had rung. Our class was last, being as how our teacher was on duty.

  Anyway, there we were, just our class and Miss Hampton, when two blokes in masks appeared from around the side of the building. One was armed with a socking great knife and grabbed Miss Hampton and held it to her throat. He growled at us not to scream or make a sound otherwise he’d let her have it. Now Miss Hampton hadn’t exactly endeared herself to us, she was too strange for that, but we didn’t want her throat cut in front of us either. So we kept our gobs shut, more or less, although one or two of us snivelled a bit. Naturally Smelly Smales had snot down to her knees in seconds, she was that kind of kid. The other bloke looked us all over, then he grabbed me and stuck his hand over my mouth and started dragging me towards the school gate.

>   I was too shocked to say or do anything. I recognized my bloke straight away. He had odd eyes, one blue, one brown. It was Charlie Fluck. Thinking back, I was paralysed with terror, which was why I didn’t struggle. The knife man followed, dragging Miss Hampton with him. I was thrown into the back of a black car and Charlie jumped in next to me. The other man reached the gate and sort of slung Miss Hampton away, so she stumbled and fell just inside the playground. He jumped into the seat beside the driver.

  ‘Move it, you stupid cow!’ he yelled, as he slammed the car door. I could tell by her smell that the driver was a woman; she used Evening in Paris. And, of course, nobody calls a bloke a ‘stupid cow’. I recognized the knife man’s voice. It was Dave, and I was very afraid.

  Charlie pushed me down into the seat so that no one could see me and we shot away like bats out of hell. I think we were in Shaftesbury Avenue after zigzagging a bit. I know we went up the Charing Cross Road because I could just see one or two rooftops and I recognized the front of the cinema on the corner of Sutton Row. We turned left into Oxford Street. Once we were past Marble Arch, though, I lost track.

  We twisted and turned but it wasn’t too long before the car stopped and I was bundled up some stairs and into a flat. I was shivering and shaking by this time and, like Smelly Smales, I’d wet myself. The two men didn’t remove their masks but the one I thought was Dave smacked me in the mouth and told me to shut up. I tried, honest I did, but huge sobs kept escaping. He clouted me again but I still couldn’t stop. In the end, he threw me into a tiny room with no windows and locked the door.

  It was a large cupboard, I think, because there were shelves. I don’t know how long I was in there. It felt like ages.

  33

  There was nothing to see or do in that cupboard and if I let my mind wander I started to feel sick with fear. So I began reciting my tables to keep my imagination quiet. It was pretty boring and I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, Dave was shouting on the other side of the door.

  ‘I could’ve told you that her mother was a whore, you prick. There was me thinking you knew what the hell you were doing. But oh no, you had to go and advertise. Now she’s been snatched, that Bert Featherby will be on to us in a flash. You had better get in touch with that geezer right now. We’ve got to offload the brat and quick. If Bert’s lot catch us at it, I wouldn’t give a rat’s arse for our chances.’

  ‘Put him down, Dave,’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Look at him, he’s all red in the kisser. If you choke the life out of him, we’re stuck with the kid. We don’t know who the hell Charlie’s boss is, remember, let alone where he is and how to get hold of the bugger. Let him go, can’t you?’

  There was a thud. Then I heard Charlie’s voice whining, ‘All right, all right. There’s no need to get yer hair off. He’s expecting me to call him anyway. He knows about her and he’s expecting to see her while he’s here. OK, he wasn’t home when I got on the blower but his missis thinks he’ll be back this afternoon some time. Give it another hour or so and I’ll give him another go.’

  ‘Listen to me, you double-dyed prat and a half,’ Dave shouted. ‘The longer we have the kid the bigger shtook we’re in. I’m telling you, Bert Featherby is connected and I mean connected. Him and Maltese Joe have been tight since they were kids together. They used to run with the same mob and that Featherby has got Joe out of more than one spot of bother in his time. He also stopped him from being knocked off at least once that I heard about.

  ‘They’re almost like brothers and I’m telling you Maltese Joe owes him big. He will move everything and everyone he’s got to find her. He owns half the bleeding filth at West End Central nick for starters, not to mention his boys, and then there’s the favours all the other bleeding wops owe him. No, mate, you’re not leaving it no hour. You go round there and you camp on his doorstep if necessary till he shows.’

  ‘OK, OK, if you’re that bleedin’ scared. But I might as well take the brat with me and then he and his missis can just cough up and take her with them.’

  ‘Do you think I was born yesterday?’ Dave shouted again. ‘You ain’t taking the kid anywhere. Go there and ring us when it’s settled. Arrange a meet. Theresa will bring the brat and when you pass over our cut, you get the kid and not before. What you and this boss of yours do with her after that is your business. Me and Theresa are away, mate. You don’t have the first idea of who you are up against, no idea at all. Maltese Joe eats people like you and me for breakfast. We could end up as part of the fucking foundations of a new corporation piss ’ole, and I ain’t kidding. The man does not mess about.’

  Shortly after that, I heard the front door slam. I thought about what I had heard. It was a relief to know that Uncle Bert and Maltese Joe were bound to be looking for me. Auntie Maggie would have been expecting me back for my dinner, so they would have missed me by now. My belly was busy telling me with rumbles and gurgles that it was way past dinner time.

  I sucked my thumb for a bit, partly for comfort and partly for something to stick in my gob. It also stopped me from sobbing out loud. Thoughts of Auntie Maggie had brought on the tears again and I didn’t want to attract Dave’s attention. I was deeply afraid of him. It had something to do with his cold, dead eyes and the beatings that poor Paulette had taken in the past. My sobs were just beginning to get to the heaving stage when I heard the sound of a telephone ringing very close at hand. Theresa answered it.

  ‘I know it’s you, Charlie. Who else could it be? Say that again. Hang about, I’ll ask him. Dave, Charlie says bring her to the Corner House at Marble Arch at three. He says his boss wants to talk to her to make sure she really is that posh slag’s kid, then he’ll cough up the dough. What do you say? Hang on, Charlie, he’s coming to the blower now. All right, all right, there’s no need to break me fingers, is there?’

  ‘I’ll break your bleeding jaw if you don’t shut it,’ I heard Dave say. ‘What? Speak up for Christ’s sake, I can’t hear you. OK, three it is. And Charlie, no funny business. Theresa’ll bring the kid and hang about while they rabbit. I’ll be outside, keeping my eye on the door. Give her the money when he’s satisfied and that’ll be it. If anything goes wrong, bring the kid out with you and we’ll go from there. Oh, and Charlie, if it all goes to plan, I’d piss off smartish if I was you and keep your head down. Right, three it is.’

  Time seemed to crawl past after that and my belly rumbled louder and louder. At last the door was opened and there was Theresa, all smiles. ‘Come on, lovey. Time to go. Oh my Gawd, you’ve peed yourself. Dave, she’s wet herself and she’s in a right old state. We’ll have to get her something to wear.’

  ‘What do you mean, ‘‘get her something to wear’’? If you think I’m spending anything on her, you’re out of your crust. Let’s just get shot of her and call it a day.’

  ‘But, Dave, if they’re as posh as Charlie says, won’t it look a bit funny if she’s all wet behind? Specially at the Corner House. They might not even let us in if she’s in that state. She only needs a pair of knickers and a skirt or something.’

  ‘All right, but make it snappy. Sling her back in the cupboard and nip down the road to that place on the corner. Here you are, that’ll have to cover it. I’m not chucking dosh away. We’ll need every bloody penny if this goes wrong.’

  I was pushed back into my prison and the door was slammed.

  A little while later, Theresa was back with this horrible pair of knickers and this skirt made of orange gingham. It looked really disgusting with my pale blue school shirt. I preferred my gymslip and that’s saying something. I insisted on folding my soggy knickers and damp gymslip carefully and putting them in the bag my new clothes came in. Theresa took me to the bathroom for another pee and a bit of a wash. I stank a bit anyway, and still had blood on my mush from when Dave hit me.

  She finished me off by combing my hair. You can’t comb curly hair with just an ordinary comb, as it yanks it out by the roots. It shows how scared I was that I didn’t even y
ell. I didn’t want Dave to hit me again. He could pack a wallop, I’ll say that for him. At least, I thought he could, but then nobody had ever hit me before, except other kids at school and they didn’t count.

  At last we were ready to go. My heart was hammering. The Corner House at Marble Arch. I was pretty sure they meant Joe Lyon’s and maybe Paulette would be there. I started praying like the clappers that she would be.

  34

  We walked to Marble Arch. It turned out that we were just around the corner from it. Dave was nervous, I could tell; his eyes were everywhere at once and he was sweating. He was afraid we’d be seen by someone who knew Uncle Bert or, worse, Maltese Joe. We were very close to our own manor after all. They had me between them. Dave had hold of my wrist so hard I thought he was going to break it, and Theresa held my hand. I suppose, looking back, they were trying to look like a happy little family on a day out. Naturally Dave had taken his mask off by then as people would have noticed and thought it was funny. It took less than ten minutes to get to the meeting place. I was right, the Corner House was Paulette’s Joe Lyon’s. My heart leaped with hope.

  Once we were outside, Dave took an even firmer grip on me. ‘Now you behave, you little snot, or I won’t think twice about slinging you under a bus,’ he snarled. ‘Theresa, get in there and look around to make sure they’re there. Walk up to ’em if they are and ask if they have the money. If the answer’s yes, come and get the kid. If it’s no, tell them they have one hour to get it and no funny business if they want to see her alive. Got that?’

  Theresa nodded, let go of my hand and disappeared inside.

  I was really worried that she would see Paulette. She hated Paulette and it would ruin my chances if she saw her. I wasn’t so worried about Charlie. He had hardly ever seen her and anyway they had never spoken to each other.