by Pam Weaver
Nobby’s voice was dangerously low: ‘We ain’t amateurs. It was just bad luck. Now find somewhere to dump this van, and soon.’
Kevin turned left towards the industrial arches under Clapham Junction station. In the pitch-darkness his headlights pierced the gloom and, parking in front of the first unit, he scrambled out of the van.
‘Come on, this’ll do. We can make our way home through the backstreets.’
The three men walked quickly, constantly looking behind them and relieved when they reached Battersea High Street.
‘That was a bloody fiasco,’ Kevin said, breaking the silence.
‘I’ll admit it was a cock-up, but we got clean away.’
‘Yeah, but empty-handed.’
‘There’s always another job, and we’ll make better plans next time.’
‘Next time! You must be kidding!’
Nobby shrugged. ‘You’ll be looking for easy money again soon, and I’ll be in touch.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Kevin spat as he marched away.
Trevor Bardington still couldn’t sleep. Standing in the darkness of his room, he looked out of the window on to the three young men below him in the street. He recognised his landlord, Nobby Clark, and though the men seemed to be arguing, he wasn’t interested. His appetite was rising again, and try as he might he couldn’t fight it. How many times had he moved? How many different areas had he lived in? He’d lost count. So far he’d been lucky, very lucky, and had never been caught.
He turned away from the window and threw himself onto his bed. Once he had seen that face it was impossible to get it out of his mind – impossible to fight the desire. Now, as he had done so many times in the past, he began to plan.
Other than the young girl downstairs, this place was ideal, and if he used drugs again, there would be no noise. Of course, the time and place would be crucial, and it wouldn’t be easy. His brain turned. There had to be a way, there was always a way, and as an idea began to form, Trevor Bardington smiled. He’d love it, he knew he would. They all did, despite their protests.
Chapter Twelve
When Pearl awoke on Monday morning, she knuckled her eyes before climbing tiredly out of bed. She hadn’t slept well. Trevor Bardington had started pacing again and it had been after one in the morning before he’d stopped.
Why did he spend hours walking back and forth across his room? Was he an insomniac? God, she hoped not. If she got a good night’s sleep, getting up at five forty-five in the morning wasn’t a problem, but if the noise continued it would be impossible.
She’d have to wait and see, but if the worst came to the worst, perhaps she could ask Nobby Clark for a different room. There were two empty, one on this landing and one above. She didn’t fancy being on the same floor as Mr Bardington, but the one further along on this level would be fine and not directly underneath the man. The only downside was that it looked over the rear of the building, with nothing but a yard and the back of a factory wall in view. With this room she enjoyed being able to look on to the High Street, seeing the hustle and bustle of the market. Tired of drawing faces, she had begun to sketch the scene. Of course, she still craved colour. How else could she bring the pictures alive? The colourful stalls with their brightly striped awnings, the fruit and vegetables piled high, the crowds bustling, red-faced from the heat. They needed colour, and she just had to buy some paint.
The breakfast rush was in full swing and, though tired from lack of sleep, Pearl was doing her best to keep an eye on Alice. So far she hadn’t cleared any of Pearl’s tables, but as they were so busy it was impossible to watch her all the time.
Frank Hanwell came in, his son, Eric, with him, and Pearl smiled as she went to serve them.
‘Hello, and what can I get you?’
‘My usual, and beans on toast for Eric.’
The boy grinned at Pearl and once again she was captivated by his face. If he’d been a girl, Eric would have been described as beautiful. Somehow, handsome didn’t fit, and seemed an inadequate description. With lovely emerald-green eyes, slightly slanted like a cat’s, flawless skin, with a dash of freckles, he had to Pearl, perfect features.
She grinned back at him. ‘One slice of toast, or two?’
‘Two, please, miss. I’m helping my dad on his stall today.’
‘Are you? That’s nice.’
‘Lucy’s a bit under the weather, and school doesn’t start again until September,’ Frank said by way of explanation. ‘I don’t know about help, though. Somehow I think Eric might be more of a hindrance.’ He leaned forward, the sting taken out of his words as he ruffled the boy’s dark hair.
Pearl wrote out the order and hurried to the kitchen, her tables now full, but as she returned to the dining room she was just in time to see a couple of her customer’s leaving. Alice left what she was doing and hurried to clear their table. Pearl kept her head low, but was watching from under her lashes when she saw Alice slip something into her apron pocket.
As if suddenly aware that she was being observed, Alice’s head spun around. Their eyes locked, but it was Alice who looked away first, her face slightly flushed as she picked up the rest of the plates, brushing past her to the kitchen.
Pearl waited until Alice returned to the dining room, surreptitiously watching her movements. Alice passed the counter, but didn’t put any money into the jar, and Pearl was sure then that Alice was taking her tips. But what could she do? She was too scared to confront Alice, and anyway, she’d deny it. Yet how could she offer proof?
‘What’s up, Pearl?’ Derek Lewis called.
She went to his table, her mind still turning. If someone else saw what Alice was up to, there was no way the girl could deny it. ‘Derek, can I talk to you later?’
He frowned. ‘You’re not going to tell me you can’t see me tonight, are you?’
‘No, of course not. It’s just something I may need a bit of help with.’
‘Oh, right. Well, anything I can do, you only have to say the word.’
‘Thanks, Derek.’
The rest of the day seemed to drag by. Pearl kept an eye on Alice, but she kept to her own tables. Then, at three fifteen, near the end of her shift, Kevin came down from the upstairs flat. He walked towards her, but instead of a threatening look, he was smiling.
‘Hello, love, how are you doing?’
Pearl stared at him in confusion. He had issued veiled threats at the boxing match, but now he was being pleasant. ‘I … I’m fine thanks.’
‘How’s it going with Derek?’
‘Er … we’re still good friends.’
‘If you were my girl, we’d be more than friends by now.’
‘Kevin!’
They both spun round to see Dolly’s head poking out of the kitchen door. ‘I suggest you let Pearl get on with her work.’
‘Yeah, all right, Mum,’ he said, but not before throwing Pearl a wink and whispering, ‘Would you like to be my girl, Pearl?’
He sauntered off, the café door closing behind him, Pearl left red-faced. His girl! Surely he didn’t mean it? No, of course he didn’t. Her mind was still grappling with the change in Kevin’s character when Dolly came marching out of the kitchen, heading towards her.
‘Your job is to wait on tables, Pearl, and not to flirt with my son.’
‘I … I wasn’t flirting with him. Honest,’ she protested, hands shaking.
‘I don’t want to see you chatting with Kevin again. You’re here to work and I suggest you remember that.’
‘Yes, Mrs Dolby.’
The woman threw her a dark look. ‘Finish clearing that table and you can go.’
Pearl vigorously rubbed the surface, relieved when Dolly went back to the kitchen. She rinsed out the cloth, took off her apron and, taking her bag from its usual place under the counter, murmured, ‘I’m off, Bernie. See you tomorrow.’
‘Bye, love, and take no notice of Dolly. Mind you, it might be safer to stay away from Kevin.’
‘Your son’
s a bit of all right, Bernie,’ Alice chuckled, ‘and you can’t blame Pearl for having her eye on him.’
‘I … I haven’t got my eye on him,’ Pearl protested.
‘Oh, yeah, and pigs might fly,’ Alice said. ‘You fancy him, and it’s as plain as the nose on your face.’
A blush stained Pearl’s cheeks and she lowered her head.
‘Leave the girl alone, Alice,’ Bernie admonished.
Pearl threw him a grateful smile, saying a hurried goodbye as she left the café. Why did Alice have to stir it, and what if she said the same things to Dolly? God, she could get the sack. It was bad enough worrying that Alice was pinching her tips, but now she had to worry about losing her job.
Pearl stopped by Derek’s stall, watching as he served a customer, amazed that with hands so large and chunky he was able to handle the most delicate china without breaking it.
As the customer walked away he came straight to her side. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
‘It doesn’t matter now.’
‘Tell me anyway.’
Pearl couldn’t confide in him about Kevin, instead saying only, ‘I think Alice is pinching some of my tips.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I could be wrong, but I doubt it. You see, I don’t get many tips now, even from my regulars. Sometimes Alice clears my tables and I think I saw her pocket a tip. I waited to see if she put in the jar, but she didn’t.’
‘The bitch! What did you say to her?’
‘How can I say anything until I’m a hundred per cent sure? And anyway, it’s my word against hers and she’s sure to deny it.’
‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’ He paused for a moment, but then smiled. ‘When I’m in the café, I’ll keep an eye out too. If we both catch her out, she won’t have a leg to stand on.’
‘Oh, thanks, Derek. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
Kevin passed, lifting his hand to wave at them both, but Pearl lowered her head. She had to prevent Dolly from thinking that she was flirting with Kevin, but how?
‘Is there something else worrying you?’ Derek asked. ‘You still look a bit down in the mouth.’
She raised her eyes, saw his concern, and in that moment, made up her mind. If she had a boyfriend, Dolly would know she wasn’t after Kevin and her job would be safe. Taking a deep breath, Pearl forced a smile. ‘I’m fine. It … it’s just that I was wondering if you’d still like me to be your girlfriend.’
‘Of course I would.’
‘Good, because I’d like that too.’
‘Pearl, are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
He grinned with delight. ‘Cor, wait till I tell Gran.’
‘She might not approve, Derek. She’ll think I’m too young for you.’
‘You’ll be seventeen soon, and I’m twenty-six. That makes only nine years between us. Anyway, Gran likes you and I think she’ll be dead chuffed.’
Another customer came to the stall, Derek saying hurriedly, ‘I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll go for a nice meal to celebrate.’
‘All right, ’bye,’ Pearl said, wondering as she walked to her bedsit if she’d made the right decision. She was going to be Derek Lewis’s girlfriend, protected and safe, but what if one day he proposed? Could she face becoming his wife? She pictured his cosy terraced house, his lovely gran, and smiled. Yes, surely she could. They would be a family, and if a baby came along? At that thought Pearl’s steps faltered. When she worked in the laundry the women had often talked and joked about sex. Innocent though she was, she had soon found out from their ribald remarks how a baby was made, but could she bear to do that with Derek?
When Derek told Pearl that his gran wanted to see her, she went round to the house straight from work the next day, shaking with nerves.
At first Connie Lewis was a bit frosty, and deeply suspicious of Pearl’s motives. ‘I thought we agreed that you’re far too young for Derek,’ she said as they sat in her cosy kitchen.
‘I know, but I’ve grown very fond of him.’
‘Huh, you can be fond of a cat,’ she said, her eyes flicking to Marmalade. The huge ginger cat opened one eye, but seeing there was no food being offered, he closed it again. ‘Just what do you see in Derek? It ain’t his looks, that’s for sure.’
‘I know he isn’t handsome, but that doesn’t matter. There’s more to a man than looks. Derek is so kind, so caring, and I feel safe with him.’
‘Safe! What’s that supposed to mean? It sounds like you only want him for protection, but protection from what? Are you in trouble?’
‘No,’ Pearl said hurriedly. ‘Oh dear, I seem to be saying all the wrong things. Please, Connie, I’m just trying to explain that I don’t care what Derek looks like, it’s his ways that count. I just want to be with him, to become part of this family, and … and maybe one day there’ll be children.’
At last the ice began to melt, and a small smile played around the corners of Connie’s mouth. ‘Kids – that’d be nice, but you’re far too young to think about marriage yet.’
‘Yes, I know I’m jumping the gun, but I just wanted you to know how serious I am about Derek.’
Connie sat quietly for a moment, but then her eyes locked with Pearl’s. ‘All right, I’ll say no more. At the end of the day I just want Derek to be happy. I know I shouldn’t cross-examine you, but he’s never had a girlfriend before, his looks saw to that. You’re a pretty girl, and could probably do better, so you can’t blame me for being suspicious.’
‘I could never do better than Derek. He’s wonderful.’
At last it seemed that Pearl had said the right thing. Connie suddenly relaxed, a wide grin now on her face. ‘You’re right there. My Derek’s a diamond. He’ll be home soon so you might as well stay for dinner.’
‘Thanks, I’d love to,’ Pearl said, heaving a sigh of relief.
Chapter Thirteen
When art classes started in September, Pearl and Derek settled into a routine. She went for lessons one night a week, and Derek went to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On the other evenings, she visited his house, sharing the family meal, growing closer to Connie and feeling part of the family. For Pearl, it was wonderful, Connie becoming like the mother she’d never had.
Pearl stood at her easel on Thursday evening, critically gazing at her effort before mixing more watercolours. Like Miss Rosen, this teacher was pleased with her work, and one day Pearl hoped to progress to oils. She had done a wash for the sky, satisfied with the stormy effect, and now raising her brush she attempted a tree. As this was an autumnal scene, in her mind’s eye she imagined a high wind blowing, so she bent the tree, making it skeletal with few leaves clinging to the branches. As she stepped back a pace, the woman at the next easel spoke.
‘I wish I could get the hang of doing that. Mine never seems to turn out right.’
Pearl wandered across, seeing that the woman had fashioned her tree with a huge trunk and a mushroom of bright green growth sprouting from the top. All right, it wasn’t very good, but what did it matter? She had seen that the elderly lady loved the classes.
‘It looks nice,’ Pearl smiled.
‘Leave it out, love, it’s rubbish.’
The teacher came to their side, her head cocked as she surveyed the old lady’s attempt. ‘Not bad, Mrs Fox, and you’re coming along nicely.’
‘Do you think so? Well, thanks very much, but I wish I could paint like this young lady.’
‘Keep up the good work and you will.’
She then wandered on to the next easel, the old lady winking at Pearl. ‘Yeah, and pigs might fly too.’
Pearl grinned as she went back to her own work. She loved the mixed ability classes, finding everyone so friendly. Picking up her paintbrush again, she buried herself in the countryside scene.
The time flew past and to Pearl her painting wasn’t quite finished. She was still daubing, still endeavouring to get it just right when the teacher came to her side.
‘Is it?’ Pearl said, becoming aware of the noise in the room as people prepared to leave. She hurriedly packed up too, and as she left the class, there was a smile on her face. She was following her dream at last, a dream that one day her painting would be good enough to exhibit.
Pearl stepped outside to find Derek waiting for her. ‘Watcha, love,’ he said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek before taking her things to carry. ‘I finished early at the gym so thought I’d come to walk you home.’
She clutched Derek’s arm as they walked along, pleased to see him, and glad that she had learned to relax when held in his arms. She still didn’t enjoy his kisses, finding it hard to respond, and so far, fearing being alone with him, she hadn’t invited him up to her room.
There was only one person who marred her contentment, and that was Kevin Dolby. For some reason he had taken to chatting to her, often asking her how things were going with Derek, but she couldn’t understand why. He’d teased her once, asking if she wanted to be his girl, but she knew he was just making fun of her. He was so good-looking and there was no way he’d be interested in her, but still her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies every time she saw him. Oh, she didn’t want to think about Kevin; it only made her unsettled.
‘How did your class go?’ Derek asked.
‘It was fine, and I’m learning so much.’
They continued to chat, Pearl enthusing about her art teacher, and when they arrived at Battersea High Street, Pearl unlocked her street door. She took her things from Derek, smiling up at him. ‘Thanks for walking me home, but there’s really no need.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he said, eyes soft as he leaned down to kiss her, lips soft and moist as they settled on hers. ‘’Night, Pearl. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes. ’Night, Derek.’ Pearl said, relieved that he didn’t expect more.