by Pam Weaver
‘You haven’t been around. Friday afternoon do you? The boss does his business in the morning, those in question are there alone and late to leave; they have other business.’ Johnnie smiled but it wasn’t with humour. ‘I don’t want anyone else involved and no one else to know anything. Got that? Not anything about anything. Just you and them.’ Johnnie didn’t look at the man as he spoke quietly.
‘Yeah, Friday it is, then. Everything else as we said previous?’ the man asked before concentrating on striking a match then lighting the skinny roll-up that was more paper than tobacco. He inhaled deeply as he waited for a reply.
‘Yes, as I said. Nothing too serious, just a good warning, but you may have to persuade them to hand over what I want. They need a lesson.’
The man smirked. ‘Thy will be done.’
‘Don’t take the piss, Eddie. Makes you look like an idiot.’
With a glare and a quick shake of his head Johnnie pushed a bottle of beer across the bar towards him, scooped up a few coins and turned away. He took a few steps sideways towards the elderly man he had spotted out of the corner of his eye waiting impatiently further along the bar for service.
‘And a very good evening to you, Mr Morgan, sir. Sorry I kept you waiting. What’s your poison? Same as usual? But no taking it home for the missus, eh?’ he asked jovially, referring to the man’s ongoing joke about his wife.
‘Not a chance, Johnnie boy. She’s poisonous enough as it is; don’t need no more dripping off that tongue of hers.’ The man laughed and Johnnie joined in. ‘And where’s young Sadie tonight? You’re all right in your way but I like to see a pretty face when I’m supping.’
‘She’s out with some flash bloke who wants her to work in his club up west. She’s got her eye on improving herself, has Sadie, and she sees one of the swanky clubs as the way to do it.’
‘I’d better have a word with her then about swanky clubs and the scum that hang around in them, give her a bit of advice before she gets herself in trouble. She’s a good girl but a bit daft. Be a shame if she was taken advantage of.’
Johnnie shrugged, unsure if he’d dropped Sadie in it but not really caring; keeping in with the boss was far more important. Sadie had a bit of a thing about him but although he quite liked her it was never going to go any further than a bit of fun.
Bill Morgan was always impeccably dressed to the point of sometimes being mistaken for a dandy, but those that dismissed him did so at their peril. He looked like everyone’s favourite dotty uncle, but he was a ruthless career villain who was always treated with wary respect by those who knew him. He owned the Black Dog pub where they were, but had very little to do with the everyday running of it. Instead he treated it as his private office.
Into his seventies he was still fit in his body and sharp in his mind, albeit with some arthritis in his knees and hands. Apart from always wearing a cravat, his biggest affectation was using an ornate walking cane with a solid silver handle moulded in the shape of a running lurcher, a nod to his lowly origins in a gypsy caravan in Yorkshire. Bill Morgan used the cane when walking but it was also the perfect weapon to make a painful point if anyone disrespected him, and many had received a nasty slice across their cheek from the razor-sharp point on the innocuous-looking handle.
Although mostly retired from the physical involvement of his trade, he still kept a finger in most of the dubious pies across a wide area of East London, and as a result lived in considerable luxury with his wife of fifty years in a vast detached house in Wanstead, overlooking the open spaces of Wanstead Flats and just a short car drive from the Black Dog.
‘You setting up something I should know about?’ He nodded his head in the direction of Eddie Stone as Johnnie set his usual Whisky Mac down in front of him.
‘Nothing relevant, Mr Morgan. Eddie’s helping me out imparting some advice to a couple of upstarts from down my way who think they can just take what I’ve worked hard for.’
‘Some of the young pups need a bit of a kicking now and then to keep them in line …’ Morgan paused and looked at Johnnie carefully. ‘Mind, you’re a bit of a pup yourself, so you’d best be careful whose toes you tread on.’
‘Just protecting my interests. I’m not treading on anything. These are just fly-boys trying to be cut corners. My hard-earned corners, as it happens, on my patch,’ he said defensively, not enjoying the implied criticism from his mentor.
‘A word of advice, Johnnie boy,’ the man said quietly. ‘I like you; you’re ambitious and you’re bright with a bit of education behind, but you’re still young and a bit too keen to flex muscles you haven’t grown yet. It won’t do you any good to get ahead of yourself and get in bother.’ He paused for effect before continuing, ‘Don’t run before you can walk and, more importantly, remember him over there,’ he nodded his head to where Eddie Stone was still standing, ‘he can’t always control himself. Not his fault, mind, but this game is all about being in control.’
Johnnie shrugged and smiled, but his smile wasn’t as wide or as self-assured as before. He tried to decide if Bill Morgan was advising him or warning him. The man was a big name in London, equally admired and feared, and the last thing Johnnie wanted to do was upset him.
‘I’ve got to take care of my business. I can’t let them think they can do whatever they like.’
The older man shook his head. ‘Ways and means, lad, ways and means. So take heed. I can help you in the long run same as I can help young Sadie, but I need to know you’re sensible. I like you both, as it happens. You’d make a good couple’. He stared at Johnnie eyeball to eyeball for a couple of seconds before turning away. ‘Anyways, I’m expecting company, so think on. If anyone asks I’ll be in the snug.’
Bill Morgan picked up his drink in one hand, his cane in the other and walked across to the door in the corner of the public bar. Before he even got there someone had jumped up and pulled the door open for him, and as he disappeared into the small bar Johnnie knew he’d spend the evening there, along with a select few, equally important companions.
Johnnie Riordan loved his family and would do absolutely anything for any of them, but outside of that circle he had little loyalty, few emotions and a ruthless streak that belied his youth and the moderate, churchgoing upbringing his mother had given him.
Success and money were important to him and he was focused on achieving both. During the day he hovered eagerly on the periphery of crime, looking for a gap in the market; a local Jack-the-lad, able to get almost anything for anyone if the price was right. Post-war shortages and rationing affected everyone and many were prepared to pay over and above for the things they wanted. Johnnie didn’t see that anything he was doing was criminal as such, and he hated being called a spiv, he just saw it as being paid to provide a service.
Even at school he had been wheeling and dealing in the playground, and then, as now, he’d seen himself as a bit of a Robin Hood. It was his way of easing his Catholic conscience.
At other times Johnnie kept his working life relatively clean by working in the Black Dog, a dubious establishment with a bit of a reputation, on the borders of Walthamstow and Wanstead in Essex. But it was legitimate employment and a good cover for Johnnie’s other activities. Although his wage as general dogsbody and bottle-washer was a pittance, just being there and mixing with the dodgy clientele made him some excellent contacts.
One of these was Bill Morgan himself and the other was Eddie Stone, a failed boxer who was down on his luck after coming home from the war broke and depressed, and who’d happily sell his own mother if the price was right. Eddie was unpredictable and had a vicious streak, but no-one was really sure if he’d always been like that or if his boxing injuries had been more damaging than anyone had realised.
Not wanting to dirty his own hands, Johnnie had spoken to him about the job he wanted doing, a lesson taught to Ray and Bobbie Blakeley, and carefully arranged for it to be done when he himself was well away and with an alibi. Their sister, Ruby.
; He wanted the Blakeley boys brought down a peg or two but he also didn’t want to blot his copybook with Ruby. Despite his Jack-the-lad reputation, Johnnie Riordan wasn’t a ladies’ man; he was far more into his business, his future and earning money. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the opportunity and he had the odd fling here and there – especially with Sadie Scully, when they’d shared a shift and the backroom was empty after hours – but anything more than that wasn’t what he was looking for.
However, Ruby had a manner about her that he’d never come across before and she was intruding into his thoughts far more often than he wanted. There was something about the girl that kept pulling him towards her. Offering to take her to Melton had not been entirely a gesture of goodwill. He wanted to spend some time with her away from the local prying eyes, who may well tell Ray Blakeley, the man to whom Johnnie preferred not to give any ammunition. The man who Eddie Stone was going to deal with on the very day Johnnie and Ruby were miles away.
‘Any chance of service here?’ Eddie asked in the tone that always irritated Johnnie.
Johnnie smiled none the less. ‘What do you want?’
‘What do you mean, what do I want? I want a fucking drink, that’s what I want.’
‘Of course. Coming right up, sir. Anything you want, sir …’ Johnnie’s tone was pure sarcasm but it went straight over Eddie’s head.
‘About time too!’
Johnnie got the man his beer, took his money and made two mental notes. He would never use Eddie Stone again and he would also at some point teach him all about manners.
Nine
As the train turned the final bend Ruby pulled down the carriage window and leaned out; she could see Babs Wheaton standing on the edge of the short platform, waiting for the London train to arrive. She was wearing the familiar beige coat that Ruby had long coveted and a matching hat perched at a jaunty angle with a large feather pinned to the front. The coat was shaped tightly into her waist with a row of black velvet buttons all the way from neck to hem and a neat velvet collar, and knowing that she had worn it specially made Ruby well up. She waved frantically as the train pulled in and, after jumping out as the train was still moving, she ran over and hugged her tight. Babs hugged her back for a few seconds before holding her away with both hands and looking her up and down.
‘My, how you’ve grown, even in this short time. Just look at you – you’re nearly as tall as I am with my high heels on!’
‘And you’re wearing my favourite coat!’
‘Maybe this time I’ll let you take it with you, now you’re just a little older.’
‘But not the hat.’
As they laughed Johnnie stepped up beside them both and held his hand out.
‘Aunty Babs, this is Johnnie Riordan. He’s the friend you spoke to on the phone when I was so upset. He helped me arrange the visit.’
Johnnie smiled confidently and tipped his hat. ‘Very nice to meet you, Mrs Wheaton. I’ve heard a lot about you from Red here.’
‘Red?’ Babs raised an eyebrow and looked at Ruby before taking Johnnie’s proffered hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Mr Riordan. It was kind of you to go to the trouble of helping Ruby. Dr Wheaton and I appreciate it.’
Babs smiled and briefly shook the young man’s hand, but it wasn’t quite the friendly smile Ruby was used to. Her mouth smiled politely but her eyes were narrowed with querying disapproval. As she took her hand away and looked back at Ruby her natural smile returned.
‘Let’s go, Ruby dear. Yardley’s waiting for us outside. He’s looking forward to seeing you again, and so is Uncle George, of course. He’s in surgery but he’ll be with us for lunch, emergencies permitting, and Marian and Keith are going to drop by after lunch …’
Johnnie stepped back as they walked to the car and stood politely to one side when Ruby briefly greeted Derek Yardley with a curt nod before she and Babs climbed into the rear of the car. Only when they were settled did he then get into the front passenger seat. His manners were impeccable and Ruby was both impressed and relieved, especially after the way Ray had embarrassed her when he’d visited, but she felt that Babs Wheaton, the woman she viewed as a second mother, wasn’t equally impressed.
During the drive back to the village Babs gave Ruby a brief outline of everything that had gone on in the months she’d been away, while Johnnie asked Derek Yardley all about the car. Both conversations were stilted and superficial, and there was a distinct atmosphere that Ruby didn’t understand but which made her feel uncomfortable. She sighed with relief when the car finally turned off the road.
‘Beautiful house, Mrs Wheaton. I’ve heard so much about it,’ Johnnie said as they pulled up outside the house Ruby knew she would always think of as home.
‘Thank you. It’s my husband’s family home. He was brought up here; his father was the village doctor before him.’
‘The war didn’t affect you out here in the sticks then? No offence, of course. I say that ’cos Red was evacuated here so it must have been safer than London.’
Ruby stiffened at his words; she knew what Johnnie meant by ‘out here in the sticks’, but the way he said it made it sound like a criticism of this place she loved.
‘We weren’t directly affected by the Blitz, no, and we fared better than London and many other cities and towns, but like everywhere else we lost family and friends. It’s a blessing it’s all over, though, and we can start to get back to some normality.’ Babs’ tone was polite as she turned back to Ruby. ‘Come along, dear; let’s go in.’
As Ruby walked along the path beside Babs she glanced back and noticed Johnnie had stayed back by the car and he and Derek Yardley were standing almost head to head in deep conversation. A wave of panic swept over her. The last thing she wanted was for Yardley to have an opportunity to talk to Johnnie Riordan.
‘Johnnie, come on, catch up …’
The two men shook hands and Johnnie walked quickly, catching them up as they turned the corner leading to the back door.
‘What were you talking about?’ Ruby asked.
‘Sorry about that. I’m interested in cars and motorbikes, and we were comparing notes. He knows his stuff, that man; we’ve got a lot in common.’
‘No, you haven’t, you’ve got nothing in common with him,’ she snapped, but then countered her comment with a smile.
She tried not to be irritated at the way Johnnie was seeing the visit. She wanted him to stay in the background and let her have a brief sample of her old life; instead he was involving himself in it and she felt unreasonably territorial. She turned away sharply.
‘Can I go and say hello to Uncle George?’
‘He’ll be coming through for lunch providing there are no emergencies, so best wait until then,’ Babs replied.
Although she knew that what Babs was saying made sense, Ruby still found it hard to hide her disappointment.
‘I’ll wait until lunch then. Do you need any help?’
‘You could lay the table. You know where everything is.’
The general awkwardness continued as they made superficial conversation and Ruby quickly regretted bringing Johnnie Riordan with her. They all carried on through the motions until after lunch, when Babs stood up.
‘Johnnie, do you mind if I take Ruby off for a few minutes? I really want her to meet the new nurse and I’m sure you’d sooner sit here and chat with Dr Wheaton.’ She looked at her husband. ‘Is that OK with you, George?’
‘Sounds like a good idea to me, darling,’ George Wheaton said, ‘Don’t forget I’ve got a call this afternoon, but there’ll be plenty of time for Yardley to drive Ruby and Johnnie to the station for the London train.’
George Wheaton was a kindly man and his face reflected that. His brown eyes twinkled when he smiled, which was often, and Ruby had rarely seen him angry. Because of using a wheelchair his upper torso was extraordinarily broad and strong, but it was a gentle strength that he never used in the wrong way. Ruby loved watching him spread his long graceful fingers ac
ross the piano keys as he taught her how to play. She loved him as a father but she also admired him for achieving everything he had, despite his disability.
Smiling first at George and then at Johnnie, Ruby stood up. She was surprised when Babs headed to the front door instead of one of the interconnecting ones, but she didn’t comment as she followed her out into the garden. Together they walked slowly around to the surgery door, but instead of going inside Babs beckoned for them to sit on the bench under the covered porch just outside.
‘I wanted to spend a few minutes with you alone. It’s hard to talk properly in front of a stranger …’
‘But Johnnie isn’t a stranger – well, not to me. He’s been a good friend from the day I went back to Walthamstow and he carried my cases along the road. He lives just further down with his family. We’re neighbours.’
‘I know, dear, you said that, but George and I don’t know anything about him so to us he is a stranger.’
‘You make that sound bad, but he’s the only friend I have there. I really miss having Keith and Marian, and Johnnie is nice to me …’ She could feel her throat starting to tighten so she swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted to do was cry.
‘Tell me about him then.’ Babs said. ‘What does your mother think of him?’
‘She doesn’t know him and she doesn’t know we’re friends. Ray and Bobbie hate him so she’d just side with them. It’s easier to say nothing.’
‘Do you know why they don’t like him?’
‘Because they’re jealous of him.’
‘Why are they jealous? What does he do for a job?’ Babs asked gently but curiously.
‘He’s a businessman,’ Ruby said quickly and defensively.
‘Ah, right … But what sort of businessman?’
Ruby frowned, unsure how to answer. ‘I don’t know, but he works in a public house in Wanstead to earn extra. He helps support his sister and her family – her husband was crippled when he was in the army. That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Of course it is. I just wondered what his business is—’