by Sam Michaels
‘Earl Grey but unlike my mother, I prefer mine without several sugar cubes.’
‘Of course,’ Gordon answered and snapped his fingers to a woman hovering behind.
The woman quickly dashed away and through two swinging louvre doors.
‘Are you looking for a hat for a particular occasion today?’
‘Yes. My father is returning from India on Monday. Mother insists I have nothing suitable to wear so I will require a hat that screams respectability. In Mother’s eyes, that means plain, simple and terribly expensive.’
‘Your mother’s tastes are impeccable, Miss Somerfield. I’m confident we will find you something that she will approve of.’
‘You mean Mother’s tastes are boring. But I suppose I shall only have to wear the dreadful thing for one afternoon. So, let’s start with navy blue.’
Charlotte watched in awe as Gordon flitted between various hats, the woman placed them neatly on Miss Somerfield’s head and Gordon held a mirror. After at least a dozen had been tried on, Miss Somerfield still hadn’t found a hat she liked. But Charlotte was fascinated with the way Gordon, and she assumed his wife, fussed over Miss Somerfield. And even when she was quite rude to them, it seemed they couldn’t do enough for her. Yes, this was the sort of service money could buy and Charlotte wanted it too.
Then to her dismay, she saw Gordon heading straight towards her. Peeping out from behind a flamboyant pink wide-brimmed hat next to a red one with lace trim, Charlotte saw the man’s expression change when he spotted her.
‘What do you think you’re doing? I won’t have your sort in here, you dirty thieving whore. Get out,’ he hissed fiercely but quietly, obviously trying not to draw attention to the situation.
Charlotte straightened her back and, placing her hands on her hips, she glared defiantly at the man. ‘I ain’t no thief and I certainly ain’t no whore,’ she shouted.
‘I don’t care what you are, you’ve no place in my shop. Be off with you before I call the police.’
Miss Somerfield must have heard the heated exchange and was walking towards them with a curious smirk. ‘What’s going on, Gordon?’ she asked as she eyed Charlotte up and down.
‘Nothing, miss, nothing at all. This… this… beggar was just leaving.’
‘I ain’t a beggar. If anything, it’s you who’s begging for her business,’ Charlotte snapped, pointing towards Miss Somerfield. ‘You oughta have a bit more respect for yourself, Gordon. Yes, miss; no, miss; three bags full, miss. She’s running rings round you and you can’t see it ’cos you’re so desperate for her money to be in your cash register. And as for being a thief, well, the prices you charge for your crappy hats is daylight robbery. Good day to you, sir,’ she said and mockingly curtseyed.
Charlotte stomped from the shop, and though she was fuming, she resisted the temptation to knock over his hat display. How dare he call her a whore, thief and beggar. He was just a working man himself, a shop owner, nothing special. She’d rather be skint than lick the arses of the rich like he did. She may not have any money but at least she had her pride.
As she marched along the street, she heard a voice calling from behind and recognised it to be Miss Somerfield.
‘Excuse me… excuse me, Miss…’
Charlotte wondered what the stuck-up woman wanted and spun round, ready for another confrontation. Miss Somerfield was running towards her and waving her hand.
‘Thank you for stopping,’ she said, and caught her breath.
Charlotte said nothing and looked at her suspiciously.
‘I was most impressed with the way you spoke to Gordon,’ she said and smiled wickedly. ‘His face was a picture.’
‘Well, he deserved it.’
Miss Somerfield extended her hand, offering it to Charlotte. ‘I’m sure he did. Miss Somerfield, but please, call me Daphne.’
Charlotte felt uneasy but shook her hand. ‘Charlotte Mipple,’ she said, wondering if she should have given a false name.
‘Gordon’s tea is quite ghastly and has left a bitter taste in my mouth. Would you like to join me for a decent cup in a café I know not far from here?’
Thirsty and hungry, Charlotte readily accepted the invitation and was surprised when Daphne hooked her arm through hers and led her down the street.
‘Do you live in Chelsea?’ Daphne asked.
‘No, in Battersea.’
‘Oh, I love Battersea. The park is delightful.’
‘Yeah, it’s all right.’
‘What brings you to this side of the water?’
‘I dunno really. I had nothing better to do.’
‘What were you doing in Gordon’s hat shop?’
Charlotte thought her question sounded accusing and snapped, ‘Who are you, the Old Bill or something?’
‘No, no, sorry. I was merely making conversation.’
‘Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing nothing. Just having a look.’
‘His hats are so fuddy-duddy but my mother adores them. Look, here’s my favourite café. Let’s go inside – it’s awfully chilly today.’
Charlotte followed Daphne into the quaint café, which was decorated to look like a ship. Brass seafaring ornaments hung on the bulkhead-style wall and a large anchor sat in the corner. The counter had a ship’s wheel attached and the cushions on the wooden seats were covered in dark blue and white stripes.
‘Table for two, Miss Somerfield?’ the waiter asked, glancing disapprovingly at Charlotte.
‘Yes, and bring us two hot chocolates and two salmon sandwiches. Oh, and we’ll have some shortbread too.’
‘Very well,’ the waiter said and pulled out a seat for Daphne.
‘I simply adore the décor in here. Have you ever been on a ship, Charlotte?’
‘No, only the rowing boats on the lake in the park.’
Daphne laughed. ‘Umm, not quite the same thing. But neither have I. Mother was on board the Titanic when it sunk and vowed never to step foot off British soil again, especially on a ship.’
‘Can’t say I blame her. I’m not sure if I’d fancy it either.’
The waiter appeared with a tray of sandwiches, cut into tidy triangles and served with linen napkins. Charlotte watched as Daphne lightly shook the napkin and placed it across her lap. She did the same.
Their conversation was kept light but even so, she struggled to find any common ground with Daphne. But she was grateful for the food and hot chocolate. Maybe she’d do well to make a friend of Daphne, she thought, though once the bill had been settled, Daphne seemed keen to be on her way.
Outside back in the cold, Daphne said, ‘It’s been fascinating talking to you. I must be getting home now before Mother sends out a search party for me. Toodle-pip.’
As Daphne walked off, Charlotte called urgently to her. ‘We could meet again, tomorrow or the next day if you like?’
The woman momentarily turned round. ‘Perhaps our paths will cross,’ she said, flippantly adding, ‘Good day to you.’
Daphne Somerfield turned a corner and was gone, leaving Charlotte feeling deflated. She’d thought she’d found a new friend in Daphne. A woman who could introduce her to the finer things and perhaps even a rich man. But it wasn’t to be and Charlotte was back where she’d started off that morning – cold, disillusioned and desperately craving a better life.
*
Georgina had been trying to prepare Alfie’s breakfast but she’d been interrupted by a telephone call from Molly. She was disappointed that she couldn’t give her friend any good news about Charlotte and as she said goodbye, she heard a sob catch in Molly’s throat.
‘I know it’s difficult for you and your mum but if anything had happened to Charlotte, I’m sure word would have reached me,’ she soothed.
Alfie tugged on her skirt and looked up at her with pleading eyes. ‘Just a minute,’ she whispered to him with her hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone.
‘I hungry, Mummy,’ he cried, his bottom lip quivering.
Thankful
ly, Lash came down the stairs and swept the boy up, placing him on his shoulders. Alfie giggled with delight and Georgina smiled gratefully at her husband.
Then her attentions went back to the telephone and she told Molly, ‘Yes, I know she might not be in Battersea but it’s more than likely. I don’t think there’s anything you can do that I’m not but if you want to come, I’ll get Alfie’s room ready for you.’
They finished their conversation and Georgina walked through to the kitchen to find Alfie sitting at the table happily eating bread and jam.
‘The kettle’s on,’ Lash said, his back to the sink, and he gestured for her to come to him.
Georgina wrapped her arms around him and he lightly kissed her lips.
‘Yuk,’ Alfie said.
She looked over her shoulder to see him pulling a face and Lash laughed.
‘Daddy’s got wed lips,’ Alfie giggled, pointing at the lipstick on Lash’s mouth that had transferred from hers.
‘So he has. Do you think he looks pretty?’ she asked.
‘You’re pwettier,’ her son replied, melting her heart.
‘That’s right, Mummy is the prettiest lady in the whole world. And men never wear lipstick,’ Lash said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
The telephone rang again so Georgina pulled herself away from Lash and went to answer it. She assumed it was Molly again so was surprised when she heard David’s voice.
‘Oh, good morning,’ she said. He rarely called her at home and her heart began to race as she wondered what could be wrong.
Lash had followed her out of the kitchen and stood in front of her.
‘It’s David,’ she mouthed silently.
The information wiped the smile from Lash’s face and she knew he wasn’t happy about her receiving calls at home from him.
‘Yes, I understand. I’ll come straight over,’ she said before bidding David goodbye and hanging up the receiver.
‘What’s so urgent that he telephones my house to summon you?’ Lash asked.
‘I’m not sure. He just said there had been some developments and asked me to come.’
‘What developments?’
‘I won’t know until I see him.’
‘What’s this about?’
‘Just some men who want to purchase arms from him,’ she whispered, looking past Lash to make sure Alfie couldn’t hear.
‘Why are you involved in his transactions?’
‘I’m not. It’s complicated and I don’t have time to explain it all now. We’ll talk later,’ she said, and rested her hands on his firm chest.
She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t impressed. ‘You tell that man, unless someone’s life is in danger, he’s not to call my house again. Keep your business in the office.’
Georgina nodded. She knew Lash was protecting their son from her seedy world but she was also aware that there was some jealousy on Lash’s part. She’d repeatedly told him there was nothing between her and David but her husband harboured suspicions. It hadn’t helped that his aunty had read his leaves and told him a slender man on fire would fill his shoes. To Georgina, the prediction had sounded more like a riddle and she didn’t believe in all that ‘spirit from the other side’ nonsense. But Lash did. He’d been raised with superstition and fortune telling and he’d said that his aunt’s forecast had left him with a very uneasy feeling.
Alfie toddled through from the kitchen, waving his sticky hands in the air. ‘I eat all my bwead,’ he said, looking very pleased with himself.
‘Good boy, now, let’s get you cleaned up,’ she said and, resting her hand on the back of his head, guided him back into the kitchen and to the sink where she wiped his hands with the dishcloth. ‘Mummy’s got to go to work now. Go fetch your bag to take to Colleen’s.’
‘Ow, I don’t want to go…’
‘Please, Alfie, do as you’re told. Mummy will be home soon.’
Lash marched across and picked up his son. ‘He can come to work with me again.’
Alfie gasped with pleasure and wrapped his chubby little arms around his father’s neck. ‘Can we see the horses?’
‘Yes, later, if you’re a good boy.’
‘I am. I love you, Daddy.’
Georgina watched as Alfie squeezed his father’s neck and kissed his cheek. She wished she could make their son as happy as his father did. The pair had a special bond, which pleased her, but sometimes she felt left out. ‘I’d better go,’ she said and ruffled Alfie’s hair, adding, ‘Have fun with Daddy.’
After buttoning down her coat, Georgina knocked next door. Mary answered, as jolly as ever. The rotund, red-haired woman said she’d pass the message to her daughter, Colleen, that Alfie was with Lash again today. And then Victor held the back door of the car open for her to climb in. She instructed him to take her to David’s office and checked her handbag for her gun. It was loaded, ready to fire if need be. There was just the one bullet missing, which she’d fired through Wayne’s foot.
‘Everything all right, Miss Garrett?’ Victor asked.
Georgina peered out of the window as they left the streets of Battersea. A military convoy passed them, transporting what looked to be an anti-aircraft gun. She hoped the Fylfots would never get their traitorous hands on it. The thought sent a shiver down her spine and she answered Victor, ‘Yes, everything is all right for now but stay alert. Especially in Lewisham.’
Half an hour later, she walked into David’s office and once the formal greetings were done, demanded to know what was going on.
‘Victor, if you could give us some privacy?’ he asked.
Victor looked at Georgina for approval and she nodded her head then sat on the sofa. Once alone, David sat beside her.
‘I refused to supply the Fylfots with the arms they requested.’
‘Oh, I see. But wasn’t it good profit for you?’
‘Yes, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to go through with it. I can’t work with men like Harold Conte and his Nazi-lovers.’
‘Good for you. How did they take the news?’
‘Well, as you can imagine, after the numerous secret meetings and the information I’m now privy too, they were none too pleased. But I’ll come out of this unscathed.’
‘Can you be sure of that?’ she asked, searching his deep blue eyes.
‘Yes. I told them I’m just the middleman and they’re better off going straight to the top. I sent them to Kevin Kelly.’
‘The Portland Pounders… do you think that’s wise?’
‘Yes. Kelly will have no scruples about supplying them and probably won’t even bother to ask questions or do his due diligence. But, they asked about you.’
‘What did they want to know?’ Georgina asked, her pulse quickening.
‘If you were in a position to cut any deals with them. But don’t worry, I told them no. I said you were just a small fish in a big pond and your name and reputation are inflated.’
‘Phew, thank you. But is that what you think of me?’
David took her hand in his. ‘You know it’s not. Haven’t you got any idea of how I feel about you?’
Now Georgina’s pulse was racing and it had nothing to do with the Fylfots. She knew she should pull her hand out of his and tear her eyes away but she sat, transfixed, her stomach in knots.
‘I’m in love with you, Georgina, and always have been.’
She swallowed hard and could feel her hand sweating in his. ‘I… I…’ she stuttered.
‘It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything,’ he said, releasing her hand and rising to his feet. He walked towards one of the tall windows that overlooked the street below. ‘I know you’re a married woman and Lash is a good man. If he wasn’t, I would have killed him by now.’
Georgina jumped to her feet, shocked to her core that he’d even thought such a thing about her husband.
David turned from the window. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me, I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. We’re frie
nds, good friends. But sometimes I allow my imagination to run away with me. Can you picture it, Georgina… us? We’d be a force to be reckoned with.’
‘No, I can’t and I won’t. And I’d thank you to rid your head of any silly and unfounded notions,’ she snapped.
‘Unfounded… really?’ he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ she lied, her mind filling with images of the numerous occasions they’d inconspicuously flirted. ‘I’ll have no more of this nonsense. As you say, we’re friends. Don’t ruin that by overstepping boundaries.’
David came towards her and she was sure he was going to take her in his arms. She reacted quickly, picking up her bag and moving towards the door. ‘I must get back to Battersea,’ she said, hoping he wouldn’t detect the crack in her voice. ‘And we’ll forget this conversation ever took place,’ she added before leaving.
Sitting in the back of her car, she took several long breaths to calm herself. She should have seen it coming and could have kicked herself for being too friendly with David. She’d obviously given the man the wrong impression and led him to believe there could be a chance of them getting together. Christ, Lash would go mad if he knew what just happened. Of course, she’d never tell him. She could never tell anyone.
‘You grew up with David, you were good friends,’ she said to Victor. ‘What can you tell me about him?’ she asked.
‘Not much, Miss Garrett. His old man ran off when he was eight or nine and David took on the role of man of the house. He used to look out for his mum and three little sisters. Then two of his sisters died and his mother met a new bloke and married him. David must have been about twelve. Him and his stepdad didn’t get on. David was always getting into trouble and his stepdad would knock him about. He came home from school one day and the house was all packed up. His stepdad was moving them all to Newcastle but David didn’t want to go. So they left him behind. He went to live with his gran on his dad’s side and never heard no more from his family. It toughened him up, that’s for sure.’
Georgina pictured the sad, lonely boy, abandoned by his mother, his father dead. He had no-one and London’s most feared gangster had just declared his love for her but worse, he’d left a veiled threat in the air. David would never admit it was a threat but she knew how his mind worked. He’d let her know that if he wanted it done, Lash would be dead.