by Sam Michaels
Jack leaned over and grabbed the front of the man’s jacket, pulling his shoulders from the ground. With his face just inches away from the other man’s, he asked, ‘Who the fuck are you and what’s your fucking problem?’
It was then Jack noticed that he didn’t look much more than a kid.
‘I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me,’ he begged.
‘Get up,’ Jack ordered and released his grip.
As he climbed to his feet, Jack asked again, ‘Who are you?’
‘Me name’s Brian, sir.’
‘’Ark at that, Jack, he called you sir.’ Ray chuckled.
‘What’s your game, Brian, trying to set light to my house?’
‘I… I… I didn’t know you was in there. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked you.’
‘I… erm… I…’
‘Spit it out, lad, or I’ll take you to see my daughter and she ain’t as nice as me.’
‘It’s her… Miss Garrett… I wanted to get her back for what she did.’
‘I see. And what is it she did?’
‘She killed my dad! And ’cos of her, me mum slit her wrists and I was put in a home.’
Jack exchanged a glance with Ray, softening now. ‘Who was your dad?’
‘Robert Harris, sir.’
Jack scratched his head as he thought. ‘Rob the Roach?’
‘Yeah, I think he was called that.’
‘Georgina never killed your dad, son. He was hanged for murder.’
‘I know, but he didn’t murder Mr Peterson. She did! My dad swung for a crime he didn’t do.’
‘No, you’ve got it all wrong. Georgina didn’t kill Mr Peterson either, I swear.’
‘You would say that. But I know my dad was innocent and she was arrested for it. I don’t know how she got off, but she did. It should have been her at the end of that rope!’
‘All right, calm down. Don’t go upsetting yourself,’ Jack said as guilt stabbed at him. It had been him who had gone to Norman Wilcox and begged the man to get Georgina out of the police station. Everyone had known that Rob wasn’t guilty, not of murder. It was unfortunate that he wasn’t popular and Norman had set him up for the crime but Jack had allowed a blameless man to die in order to save his innocent daughter. ‘Billy Wilcox killed Mr Peterson. Your dad and Georgina had nothing to do with it. But Billy is dead now and so is his father, Norman, the man who got your dad arrested. So, I’m sorry, son, but you’re taking your angst out on the wrong person and the men to blame are both six foot under.’
‘How do I know you’re telling me the truth?’
Ray placed his hand on Brian’s shoulder. ‘He is. All of it, it’s true. You would have been too young to remember Norman or Billy Wilcox but they had an iron grip on Battersea. Billy was a nutter and his father weren’t much better. Your dad was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘And now Miss Garrett is doing Billy’s job. If she’s innocent like you say she is, how come she took over?’
‘Believe you me, she fought hard to get where she is. She had no time for Billy Wilcox. He tried to kill her and all. Look, if you won’t believe me, how about I take you to see her? You can ask her for yourself.’
‘But… she’ll have me, for what I done.’
‘She won’t. She ain’t a monster, despite what you might have heard.’
Brian nodded and they all climbed into Ray’s car.
‘How old are you?’ Jack asked.
‘Nearly seventeen.’
‘You ain’t at the children’s home no more then?’
‘No. I ain’t been there for four years. I’m dossing in one of them derelicts they’re pulling down. I suppose I’ll have to move on now.’
Jack felt sorry for the young man. He had no family, no home, and Jack had a hand in the reason for Brian’s sad life. But he knew his daughter. Georgina had a kind heart and he hoped she’d help set the lad on a better path. After all, he’d suffered enough and didn’t need any more punishment.
5
‘And this little piggy ran all the way home,’ Georgina cooed as she tickled Alfie’s foot before putting him into bed.
Her son giggled with delight. ‘Gen, gen,’ he said which she knew meant again.
‘No, it’s sleepy time now,’ she told him, tucking the blankets under his chin and admiring his cute button nose.
‘Pwease, Mummy, gen, gen.’
‘No, Alfie. It’s already past your bedtime.’
‘Ow, all wight,’ he said, rolling down his bottom lip in a sulky manner.
‘There’s a good boy. Now, close your eyes and think of nice things.’
Alfie squeezed his eyes shut but then quickly opened them again. ‘I’m scared,’ he said, his eyes now filling with tears.
‘Oh, sweetheart, what of?’
‘Of the bombs.’
‘What bombs, darling?’
‘The ones the man in the wadio said.’
Georgina sat on the edge of his bed and gently stroked his dark hair from his forehead. She’d thought Alfie too young to be aware of the war but with all the talk on the radio and children carrying gas masks to school, it wasn’t any wonder he’d picked up on it. And she knew Colleen had already taken him into the bomb shelter in their back garden. It had seemed a good idea for Alfie to familiarise himself with the strange, soil-covered tin hut, but Georgina had thought he hadn’t realised its purpose.
‘Take no notice of the silly man on the radio,’ she said reassuringly. ‘There won’t be any bombs here, I promise. And you know Mummy would never, ever let anything or anyone hurt you, don’t you?’
Alfie nodded his head. ‘And Daddy,’ he said enthusiastically.
‘That’s right, darling. Daddy and Mummy will always protect you. And your daddy is the strongest daddy I know. He’ll always keep us safe.’
Alfie nodded again, a small smile on his sweet face.
‘So close your eyes again and this time, think about the horses at the stables and the fun you have riding in the traps.’
Alfie’s eyes closed and Georgina gazed lovingly at her son. She hated the thought of her child feeling scared. She’d have a word with Colleen, tell her the radio was not to be on when Alfie was around. And she’d tell Lash he needed to do more boxing lessons with their son. The childhood lessons she’d had from her father had installed confidence in her and she wanted the same for Alfie. Lash already spent time play-fighting with their son but she believed Alfie was old enough to have more structured lessons. And from now on, any talk of the war would be banned in front of him.
Satisfied that he’d drifted off, Georgina quietly left the room and, leaving the door ajar, went downstairs to find that Lash had made them hot drinks.
‘Alfie said he was scared of the bombs,’ she told him as she sipped a cup of cocoa.
‘How does he know about bombs?’
‘He said he heard it on the radio. So, that’s it. From now on, no talk of the war and no radio on when Alfie’s around.’
‘Right and all. He’s too young to be worrying about that sort of thing. Hitler and his armies have got a lot to answer for.’
‘You’ve not really said much about it. Are you worried?’ she asked.
‘No,’ Lash answered flatly.
Georgina didn’t believe him but he clearly didn’t want to share his fears with her. Typical of him, being manly, she thought, and changed the subject. ‘How’s Brian getting on?’ she asked.
‘Good. He’s a fast learner and keen to work.’
‘Thanks for giving him a job with you. The bloke needs a break.’
‘I’m glad I did though I’m surprised you asked me to, especially after he admitted attempting to torch The Penthouse. But he’s a nice kid. The way he’s going, I’ll be promoting him soon.’
The telephone in the hallway trilled and Georgina pushed herself up from the sofa to go and answer it. She already knew it would be Molly seeking news about her sister.<
br />
Ten minutes later, Georgina was still talking down the mouthpiece. ‘I know there’s a war on, Molly. I’m doing all I can… Yes, try not to worry. I’ll call if I have any news. It’s late; get some sleep. Bye.’
‘Was that Molly again?’ Lash asked when Georgina returned to the front room.
‘Yes. She’s worried sick about Charlotte. It’s been over a week since she ran away. I know she’s done it before but she’s never been missing for this long. Ivy told me that Charlotte came to her. She tried to keep her there and was going to tell me the next day but when she got home from The Penthouse, Charlotte had gone.’
‘She’ll turn up, soon enough.’
‘Probably, but Molly is talking about coming here to look for her. I’ve told her she’ll be wasting her time but I think Fanny is encouraging her.’
‘Fanny’s already lost one daughter so I suppose she’s frantic.’
‘Yes. I still miss Ethel. There’s hardly a day that passes when I don’t think about her. And my gran. She would have loved to have met Alfie. It’s a shame she didn’t get to see her great-grandson.’
‘She was a fine woman, Georgina – fierce, like you.’
Georgina smiled affectionately at her husband, then told him, ‘Molly said Jane called in to visit them at the weekend and by all accounts, she seems very happy with her new husband. Mind you, he’s a far cry from her first one, Norman Wilcox. Who’d have thought Jane would have married a chemist? Though she pops enough pills, so I suppose she gets them free now.’
‘Well, after what she did to her son, I’m surprised she hasn’t totally lost her mind.’
‘She did, for a while. But yes, shooting Billy Wilcox affected her badly. I don’t think she’ll ever truly recover and to be honest, I’m glad she married Humphry and moved away. As selfish as it sounds, it’s one less thing for me to worry about. But it means there’s nothing left of the Maids of Battersea.’
‘There’s nothing to stop you starting a new club.’
‘I’ve thought about it but I don’t have the time.’
‘Get someone else to do it for you.’
‘That’s not a bad idea, Lash. But who? The whole idea of the Maids of Battersea was to give women the confidence and skills to fight, like Joan of Arc, our inspiration. Trouble is, I don’t know anyone who could teach boxing to the women… unless…’
‘No,’ Lash interrupted. ‘Before you ask me, the answer is no. There’s no way in heaven or hell that I’m going to hold boxing lessons for a bunch of women.’
‘Oh, go on, Lash, please… you’d be great at it. A bare-knuckle fighter, brawny gypsy. The women would love you.’
‘An ex bare-knuckle fighter.’
‘Please, Lash. The women round here need something like this. Half of them still get battered by their husbands and fathers, and now there’s a war on, I bet loads of men will be going off to fight. Who’s gonna look after the women if they can’t look after themselves?’
‘The answer is still no. I’m sorry, Georgina, but you’ll have to do it yourself or find someone else. And it’s no good pouting like that – I won’t change my mind.’
‘Fine, but you can sleep on the sofa tonight,’ Georgina answered and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Then she heard Lash’s voice calling. ‘I’m going up to bed. Are you coming, woman?’
Georgina smiled to herself. Of course she was. Hardly a night passed when Lash didn’t make love to her and she wasn’t going to let a bad mood get in the way. In fact, she’d wait until she’d mellowed him then broach the subject again of him training the women. He would give in eventually. He always did.
*
Charlotte snuggled under Tobias’s arm and rested her head on his chest. ‘But if you take some more cash out the till, we could get enough together to get our own place and then I won’t have to keep sneaking around.’
‘And what if my dad catches me, eh? I’d be out of a job and we’d both be on the streets. It’s too risky.’
‘Then you’ll have to ask your dad for a pay rise.’
‘Huh, I know what he would say to that, the tight git.’
‘Well, I ain’t living like this no more so you’d better think of something.’
‘I’m doing me best, Charlotte. I know this ain’t ideal but it’ll have to do until I’ve saved up enough money.’
‘That could take forever. The Germans would have taken over by the time you save enough! Bloody hell, Tobias, I might as well go back to Kent.’
‘Aw, don’t talk like that, Charlotte. I’ve proper fallen for you. I don’t want you going anywhere if it ain’t with me. If it makes you happy, I’ll see what I can get out of the till.’
Charlotte sat up and leaned down to kiss him. ‘Thank you. I know you won’t let me down.’
‘But when we get our own place, ain’t you worried what people are gonna say?’
‘About what?’ she asked.
‘About us living together.’
‘I couldn’t care less what people think.’
‘You’ll be called a slut.’
‘So?’
‘So, you’d better marry me. I don’t want my girl getting a bad name for herself.’
Charlotte gulped. She hadn’t considered marrying Tobias, especially as they’d only been together for little over a week.
‘Are you gonna then?’ he pushed, waiting for her answer.
‘I… erm… it’s a bit soon.’
‘I told you, I’m falling for you. Do you want to be my wife or what?’
No, she didn’t. Not ever. She’d run away from Kent to have some fun and a life of drudgery as a barman’s wife wasn’t what she’d had in mind. But she couldn’t risk losing Tobias or she’d have nowhere to stay. ‘All right, yes. I’ll marry you,’ she answered eventually, but had no intention of going through with a ceremony. She was only sixteen. Her mother would never give her permission to get married so she’d use that as an excuse.
‘Come here, gorgeous,’ Tobias said, beaming, and pulled her close into his arms before fervently kissing her. She could feel his engorged manhood pressing against her but didn’t feel the same passion in return. Giving herself to Tobias was a chore. A means to an end. She liked him, quite a bit in fact, but she didn’t enjoy the sex malarkey, especially as she knew he’d want to do it again before he fell asleep.
Charlotte rolled onto her back, her legs spread, and stared at the ceiling as Tobias ground against her. She thought about the life she wanted instead of the one she was enduring. A life of fancy clothes, make-up, posh restaurants and glamorous dances. She’d have it all, one day, but would have to find a rich man to provide it. Tobias was never going to be wealthy enough to fulfil her dreams. She could never love him. And no rich and successful man would ever wine and dine her whilst Georgina Garrett was on the lookout for her. She’d have to put up with Tobias for now and hope that with enough persuasion, she’d manipulate him to do her dirty work.
As Tobias was in the final thrusts, Charlotte pictured herself frolicking in the top nightspots in West London. Oh, she’d have such fun, especially as she would be raising a glass to the dear departed Georgina Garrett.
*
It was after closing time at the Lamb public house. The doors were bolted and the curtains drawn but Wayne knew the landlord wouldn’t have the bottle to throw him and his gang out. He’d once politely asked Wayne to leave but wouldn’t make that mistake again, not after Wayne had nutted him and broken his nose.
Wayne sat huddled with Dan, deep in conversation about the demise of Georgina Garrett. Whatever plan they came up with would have to be discreet. He couldn’t risk a backlash from her husband’s family or the local coppers. Unlike her, he didn’t have the Old Bill working in his favour and knew the local police would relish the idea of him being back behind bars. That was a fate Wayne wanted to avoid at all costs. He’d already served five years at His Majesty’s service and couldn’t face doing more time.
‘What if we pay someone else to do it for us?’ Dan asked in a hushed voice.
‘No, there’s no-one I trust. I have to be sure that it never gets out that I’m behind this. That means, the fewer people who know about it, the better.’
‘Tell you what, Wayne, if we pull it off, Battersea will be ours for the taking.’
‘Exactly, just as long as Maynard stays out of it.’
‘He’s never bothered about Battersea before.’
‘Yeah, but Garrett’s doing all right for herself, what with that poofters’ club and everything. I’ve heard she’s close to Maynard and all, even more reason to tread carefully.’
‘I saw this Charlie Chan film last week. The murderer made the killing look like an accident.’
‘That ain’t a bad idea, Dan, but how can we set up something like that?’
‘I dunno, put her on the train tracks?’
‘Don’t talk fucking stupid. This ain’t Hollywood, it’s Vauxhall,’ Wayne growled.
‘What about a car crash?’
Wayne thought about the idea for a moment before slowly nodding. ‘Yeah, a car crash. Poor Georgina, killed when her car sped off down the road and collided with a tree. That could work. But how the fuck do we make her car crash?’
‘Cut the brake line.’
‘Yeah? Will that do it?’ Wayne asked. The only thing he knew about cars was how to drive them.
‘If there’s no fluid in the pipes, the brakes won’t work.’
‘And I suppose you’ve seen it in a film?’
‘Yeah, but it’s true.’
‘Do you know how to cut brake lines?’
Dan sniffed and wiped his nose with the cuff of his sleeve. ‘Well, I’ve never done it before but I can have a go.’
‘All right, it’s worth a shot. I’ll get Sparrow on the case. He can locate where the car is parked at night and then we can sabotage it. If this works, Dan, I’ll take my hat off to ya.’ Wayne leaned back in the wooden seat, his large body hanging over the frame. ‘Landlord, another pint,’ he shouted, and smacked his lips together. His foot still hurt where Georgina Garrett had put a bullet through it but the alcohol helped to numb the pain.