Luck Be a Lady

by Anna King

  Charlie was due to come out of hospital today, and Jimmy wanted Rebecca with him when he picked up his friend. Amy was already with Charlie; indeed, that poor girl had hardly left the young man’s bedside since the vicious attack that had almost cost him his life.

  ‘Come on, love. What are you doing in there? The shop was shut over ten minutes ago,’ he muttered beneath his breath. Glancing up, he saw with some dismay that the woman was smiling at him, while beckoning him to enter the shop. Putting up his hands in a gesture of refusal, Jimmy smiled as he shook his head, but the woman was already striding towards the front of the shop. The bell over the door tinkled.

  ‘Won’t you come in and wait, Mr Jackson? Rebecca won’t be much longer. A few last-minute hiccups, I’m afraid.’ She smiled timidly, as if expecting a rebuff.

  Jimmy saw the awkward hesitation and grinned, ‘Thank you, I think I will. I don’t want to get arrested for loitering, do I?’

  The woman tittered, her cheeks colouring as she moved aside to let him enter. ‘Oh, Mr Jackson, you are a caution. Loitering indeed, whatever next?’

  Jimmy’s eyebrows rose in amusement at the response to his feeble joke. Obviously the woman didn’t get out much, poor soul.

  ‘Would you like some refreshment, Mr Jackson? Lemonade, perhaps, or maybe you’d prefer a cup of tea? Oh, please, do have a seat.’ She gestured to three plush red velvet armchairs arranged in a triangle in the middle of the shop floor.

  Sitting down, Jimmy made himself comfortable, while at the same time trying to push down his irritation at the delay in getting to the hospital. Poor Charlie must be counting the minutes after a week’s stay in that dismal environment.

  ‘No, thank you, Mrs…?’

  Her hand flying to her throat, Stella Barnsley felt her heart racing as she stared down into the enigmatic face. Lucky Rebecca, the middle-aged woman reflected enviously.

  ‘It’s miss, sir. Miss Stella Barnsley. My sister and I never married.’

  ‘Well, if that’s the case, I can only say there must be many men who’ve missed out on a wonderful opportunity.’ Jimmy winced inwardly as the words left his mouth. Strewth! This was what came of mixing with the so-called upper-class society. Well, he wasn’t in France any more, but back home where he belonged, thank God! Conscious of the woman’s anxious eyes, and knowing that when a woman said ten minutes she usually meant about half an hour, Jimmy resigned himself to a long wait and said cheerfully, ‘As a matter of fact, I would like a cup of tea, if you’ll join me.’

  Immediately flustered, the woman twittered, ‘Of course, Mr Jackson. If you’ll just bear with me a moment.’ Hurrying, as if afraid the stylish gentleman might vanish if left alone too long, Miss Stella Barnsley lifted the flap in the counter and went through a door leading off to the back of the shop.

  Left alone, Jimmy let his eyes roam around the shop. So this was where Rebecca spent her days. It wasn’t an overly large room. The area where he was sitting was carpeted in a thick, blue pile, and on two of the walls there hung long, gilt-edged mirrors, their reflections causing Jimmy some disconcertment. Pulling the chair to a different angle, he continued to study the room. Turning his head, he saw two curtained-off areas which he surmised were the changing rooms, and to his right ran a long mahogany counter. The door that Miss Barnsley had disappeared through remained closed, though Jimmy could hear the sound of sewing machines in operation. Obviously Rebecca wasn’t the only one working late.

  He shifted his gaze as the door opened and Miss Barnsley came towards him carrying a silver tray upon which rested a silver teapot, a small milk jug, and two tiny porcelain cups, the sight of which caused Jimmy some amusement. At least he needn’t worry about having to leave his tea half drunk if Rebecca made a sudden appearance. Why, there couldn’t be room enough for two small gulps out of those delicately made cups.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to keep you waiting, Mr Jackson, but really, Rebecca is to blame, you know.’ Taking the chair opposite Jimmy, Stella Barnsley handed Jimmy his tea.

  Jimmy raised his eyebrows in query. ‘Really, how so?’

  Smoothing down the front of her black skirt, Stella Barnsley looked into the rugged, tanned face and swallowed nervously. She and Doreen, her elder sister by three years, had been afraid that once Rebecca’s young man returned from overseas, she would leave them. In fact, she had told them months ago that she would be leaving to get married, but both she and Doreen had hoped she might be persuaded to change her mind. Now she had met Rebecca’s future husband, Stella Barnsley’s hopes sank. What chance had she or Doreen to keep the young woman here, when she could be with this charismatic man. She knew what choice she would make given half the chance.

  Sighing loudly she answered truthfully, ‘I’ll be perfectly frank with you, Mr Jackson. Before Rebecca came along, we, that is, my sister and I, were just barely keeping our heads above water. The fashions over the past few years have altered so dramatically, we were unable to attract any new customers, and the ones we did have were slowly drifting away. Even our machinists, women who’ve worked for us for years, were becoming disgruntled. We couldn’t afford to pay them higher wages, you see, not like the big stores. The advert we placed in the Gazette was there for weeks before Rebecca applied for the job, in fact we were beginning to despair. Then she came into work one day wearing one of her own creations, and we couldn’t believe our luck.’ She smiled whimsically. ‘Rebecca couldn’t understand why we were so excited. She is one of those rare people who doesn’t recognise their own talent. But we did. Since then the business has picked up at a remarkable rate. Women come in off the street asking for Rebecca. Of course, it is a lot of work, too much really for one person, and Rebecca won’t be rushed. We’ve been fortunate enough to continue selling our old stock to those of our clients who aren’t that concerned about the new fashions, but those women are, I’m sorry to say, pitifully few.’ The thin shoulders rose in resignation. ‘Doreen and I had hoped for an early retirement, but that is out of the question now.’ The worried face softened suddenly. ‘At least we experienced the start of a thriving business, we’re both grateful for that… Oh, here, speak of the devil…’ Stella Barnsley’s gaze moved towards a large-built woman who had come from the room behind the counter, with Rebecca following close behind. ‘I was just telling Mr Jackson here how grateful we were to find Rebecca.’

  The older woman smiled pleasantly at Jimmy. ‘Indeed we were. I do hope you’re not planning to take our treasure away too soon, Mr Jackson.’

  Jimmy got to his feet, his alert eyes noting the hidden anxiety behind the woman’s words, and felt a pang of sympathy for both women’s plight. He also experienced a sense of guilt, a feeling that intensified as both women continued to hold him in their gaze. Then Rebecca came to his rescue.

  ‘Well, he won’t be taking me away just yet, Miss Barnsley.’ Linking her arm through Jimmy’s, Rebecca added, ‘I should have that dress for Mrs Curron finished tonight. Goodnight to you both.’

  ‘Goodnight, dear. See you in the morning.’

  ‘Goodnight, Rebecca.’

  Jimmy held the door open for Rebecca to pass. Inclining his head towards the sisters, he grinned engagingly, ‘Goodnight, ladies.’

  Strolling along the pavement, Rebecca sniffed at the summer air and sighed.

  ‘Sorry about keeping you waiting. I was going over the order book with Miss Doreen. I think I might have bitten off more than I can chew. I’ve a dozen orders waiting to get started, and I’ve told Miss Doreen not to take any more until I catch up.’

  ‘They seem very fond of you,’ he winked down at her. ‘Can’t say as I blame them. I’m very fond of you myself.’

  Rebecca smiled tiredly. She hadn’t slept very well last night, in fact she hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since…

  Jimmy was talking. ‘…they’ll be wondering what’s keeping us. I told Charlie and Amy we’d be at the hospital before six, and it’s nearly that now. I’ll be glad to see the back of that place, so go
odness’ knows how Charlie must be feeling. Every time I think of why he’s in there…’ He glanced down at the figure by his side. ‘I know I keep on going over and over what happened, love, but I can’t help it. My blood boils every time I think of Charlie lying in an empty house, left for dead… And there’s the other business. The house wasn’t broken into, someone had unlocked the back door for the thieving bastards… Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard it all a dozen times before, and I suppose the main thing is that Charlie’s going to be all right.’

  Rebecca smiled weakly, but all she could see in her mind’s eye was the look on Phil’s face that morning when the three of them had learnt of the incident. She had thought it odd when Phil had turned up that morning, especially when he didn’t normally get out of bed until noon if he could help it. He had said he was on his way to an interview at a local factory where an assistant manager’s position was advertised, and as it was near Roman Road, the destination she and Amy were heading for, he had decided to drop by and make the journey with them.

  The news of the burglary and the vicious attack on young Charlie Bull, who was a very popular young man in the area, reached them before they had even alighted from the tram. Gossip, especially when it involved drama, travelled faster than any form of normal communication in the East End.

  Amy’s lightly tanned face had turned pale, then she had been off and running down the street before Rebecca could stop her. Starting to run after her sister, Rebecca had turned to Phil, and the stunned look of sheer horror on his face told her more than words could ever have done.

  He had never been any good at hiding his feelings, and Rebecca had felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach when she’d witnessed the damning evidence of her brother’s reaction to the news. She had known instantly that once again, despite all his brave words, Phil had used her and Amy to get himself out of trouble. But this time he had gone too far. The most sickening part was him vanishing before he knew if Charlie was going to live. If he had owned up to his part in the robbery, she would still have been terribly hurt, but at least he would have taken his punishment like a man, instead of scurrying away like a frightened rat. Ever since that awful morning when she and Amy had arrived at the house to find the whole street out and Bessie sobbing her heart out in the kitchen, neither of them had mentioned Phil. It was as if he had never appeared that night. It was as if he had never accompanied them on their journey that Wednesday morning; it was as if he had never existed.

  Peeping up at the profile of Jimmy’s set face, Rebecca’s heart lurched. Jimmy knew, of that she was certain. That was why he kept dredging the affair up, in order to give her the chance to speak out. But, oh, it was hard, so very, very hard to turn on your own. Even though Rebecca knew Phil deserved everything he had coming to him, still, she didn’t want to be the one to turn him over to the police; no more did Amy.

  ‘Hang on, love, you look dead on your feet… Hey, Cabbie!’ His piercing whistle seemed to go right through Rebecca’s head, sending her already frayed nerves further on edge. It was a relief to get out of the sun into the Hansom cab. Laying her head against Jimmy’s chest, Rebecca closed her eyes. She should have spoken out immediately instead of letting it drag out this long, but now it was even harder. Oh, damn it! It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t bloody fair. In all those lonely six months she had visualised countless variations of the longed-for reunion with Jimmy, some of them causing her to blush at her own thoughts. But, never, not once, had she imagined anything like the reality, and the circumstances surrounding their much-anticipated reunion. That day seemed like a distant memory, even though it was only a week ago. She had gone to the hospital with Amy, holding on to her sister for fear Amy would suddenly faint with the shock she had received. But her sister was a lot tougher than she was given credit for.

  As for her reunion with Jimmy…! It hadn’t been romantic, it hadn’t even been ordinary. They had met up in a long, dark corridor of the hospital, surrounded by dreadful sounds and smells, yet they had fallen into each other’s arms as if they’d never been parted. The three of them had waited in frightened silence outside a hospital ward, with Jimmy supporting them both, each one of them drawing comfort from the other. Looking back it had seemed like hours before Tom had emerged from the ward to tell them Charlie would be all right. It was then, as Amy had risen to her feet, that her knees had buckled and Jimmy had swept the unconscious girl up into his arms and rocked her like a baby while Rebecca had sobbed with relief.

  Her eyes flew open as the carriage drew to a halt.

  ‘Here you are,’ Jimmy handed up a half a crown to the cabbie.

  ‘Cheers, Guv’nor.’

  Helping her down, Jimmy folded her arm through his as they made their way through the hospital grounds. They were passing the fountain in the forecourt when Rebecca knew she could keep silent no longer. Pulling Jimmy to a standstill, she blurted out, ‘It was Phil, Jimmy. It had to be him… I’m so… so sorry. I… I should have kno… known.’ The torrent of tears burst forth as the words spilt from her trembling lips. ‘How… how could he do some… something like this? I’ll… I’ll never forgive him ne… never.’

  Jimmy pulled her tight, his hand running tenderly over her hair, his voice soothing, yet his eyes were as cold as ice.

  So! He had been right. As soon as Charlie had told him about Phil Bradford putting in a surprise visit, added to the fact that the back door had been left wide open, and only Rebecca was in possession of the keys to gain entry, it hadn’t taken a genius to work it out. Yet as much as he disliked Phil Bradford, Jimmy had wished from the bottom of his heart that he was wrong; for the girls’ sake. To what extent Bradford had been involved in the robbery Jimmy hadn’t been certain. It was more likely he unlocked the door and gave the combination of the safe to someone else. He doubted if Bradford would have carried it out on his own. Besides, Charlie had said he’d walked part of the way home with Bradford, and whoever was responsible for attacking Charlie was already in the house at that time. Then, last night, he had been informed that Big George had gone into hiding following the hue and cry that had ensued from that night’s work.

  It all fitted into place like a jigsaw puzzle. Phil Bradford and Big George. It wasn’t hard to make the connection.

  Rebecca’s body trembled from head to foot as she continued to sob, stomping her feet like a child, her heart and mind filled with anguish at her brother’s betrayal.

  When at last the tears ceased, Rebecca pulled back from Jimmy’s embrace and, staring up at him through blurred vision, she asked, ‘Do… do you still want to ma… marry me, Jimmy?’

  Jimmy’s eyed widened. ‘What! Well, of course I do, you daft mare.’

  At the sound of his gruff tone, Rebecca hiccuped, then smiled weakly. ‘You’re so romantic.’

  Knowing the trauma she was going through, Jimmy attempted to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Romantic! I’ll give you romantic – here!’ Sweeping her off of her feet, he twirled her up in the air, then, propping her up against the side of the fountain, he dropped to one knee. Taking out a small blue velvet box from his inside pocket, he grinned up at her.

  ‘I was gong to wait until this evening, when we were on our own, but since you’ve insisted… Miss Rebecca Bradford, will you marry me?’

  Embarrassed now, Rebecca was aware of a small group gathering. Her cheeks burning, she tried to walk away, but Jimmy had tight hold of her hands.

  ‘Jimmy! Get off… Look, there’s people watching us.’ She squirmed, but Jimmy wasn’t letting go.

  ‘I don’t care who’s watching, darling. I’m not letting go until you say yes.’

  The small crowd was growing larger by the minute.

  ‘All right, all right,’ she muttered.

  ‘What’s that you say?’ Jimmy mimicked, now playing to the audience, who were loving every minute of the spectacle.

  ‘I said, all right,’ she shouted, a sudden recklessness seizing her. A loud cheer went up as Jimmy placed the rin
g on her finger, then smothered her face in warm kisses.

  Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Rebecca whispered lovingly, ‘Oh, Jimmy. I love you, Jimmy.’

  Yet even in her joy, her tortured mind cried, Oh, Phil… Oh, Phil!

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  As Rebecca walked down Welbeck Road she felt her stomach churn as memories flooded back to the time she had lived here. She had approached the road from the top end so that she wouldn’t have to pass her former home. If she hadn’t felt obliged to personally invite Ada and Billy Gates to her forthcoming wedding, she would never have returned to the area that held so many unhappy memories. In truth she wouldn’t be here now if Amy hadn’t pricked her conscience.

  Amy now did the weekly shopping for Bessie, although the older woman often accompanied her, and every week Amy met up with Ada Gates down the market. And Amy, being the kind person she was, always made time for her former neighbour, keeping her up to date with all the news, while Bessie wandered off with James, allowing the child extra time to peruse the various stalls selling toys and games. Every week, Amy would tell Rebecca how Ada had asked after her, but last Saturday Amy had openly reproached Rebecca for ignoring their old friend. Rebecca had fully intended to write and invite Ada and Billy to her wedding, but with Amy’s accusing looks and admonishments weighing heavy on her mind, Rebecca had decided to pay Ada a visit.

  Feeling suddenly shy she knocked on Ada’s door. She needn’t have worried.

  ‘Why, Rebecca, love. Come in, come in.’ Ada Gates, her lined face beaming with genuine pleasure, ushered Rebecca into her home.

  ‘Oh, this is a surprise, love. I always ask after yer whenever I see Amy down the market, but I never thought I’d see you around these parts again.’ Ada had made the obligatory pot of tea and was in the act of pouring out the inky liquid while she chattered on happily. ‘Not that I blame yer, love. Gawd ’elp us. After what that old cow next door did ter yer… Well! It beggars belief, it does that. Every time I think of the times she ’ad me running round like a blue arse fly, an’ all the time she was as fit as me, well, it makes me want ter spit. I tell yer, love, you’re well outta it.’ Handing over a plate of home-made scones, she carried on. ‘I see ’er down the market. Maude, I mean. Waddling along, huffing an’ puffing, wiv a load of shopping, looking like she’s about ter drop any minute. The first time I saw ’er, she tried ter do ’er ’elpless act, yer know, pretending she wasn’t well, hoping I’d carry the shopping fer ’er. Now I ain’t a spiteful kind of person – yer know me, Rebecca, ’elp anyone out I would – but I ain’t a fool neither. So I just said, “Morning, Miss Fisher,” all polite, like, an’ left ’er to it. Gawd! If looks could kill, I’d’ve popped me clogs on the spot.’ Throwing her head back, Ada let out a roar of laughter at the memory. ‘The next time I saw ’er, she cut me dead. And I can tell yer, love, that suits me fine, ’cos the less I ’ave ter do wiv that lot next door, the better I like it… Yer tea all right, is it, love?’