Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End

by Carol Rivers

  Micky kicked the pile of boxes at his feet. 'I'm supposed to be boss around here but I don't have a say in anything these days.'

  'Leave it out Micky,' Lenny intervened as he emerged from behind the tank, wiping his sweating forehead with his hand. 'I'm sick to death of hearing you complain.'

  At that moment, Terry appeared and shuffled past the tank, giving Micky a wide berth.

  'Oh, the wanderer returns!' Micky growled irritably and Bella took hold of her brother's arm, pulling him out of harm's way.

  'Leave the kid alone, Micky,' Lenny muttered as he examined the dark brown contents of a large glass container. 'The still won't fold just 'cos Terry has a fag.'

  Bella watched Micky's face turn scarlet. 'That's rich, that is, seeing as when we was at the lock-up you was always on about me doing a disappearing act.'

  Lenny's head jerked up. He drew his muscular forearm across his big nose aggressively. 'Look, those two kids have been more use to me on a Sunday these past months than you are all week. Let's face it, you're a nervous wreck around the still and you're beginning to make me nervous too. So why don't you just push off and deliver them orders.'

  Micky looked angry. 'You're talking as if you owned this place,' he accused, taking a step forward and poking a finger in Lenny's shoulder.

  Lenny poked a finger back. 'I do, mate. Half of it, anyway.'

  'Who says so?' Micky retaliated. 'What collateral have you put up, eh? It's me that pays the rent and just you remember it.'

  'Be careful,' Lenny warned angrily. 'You're pushing your luck again.'

  'Are you threatening me?' Micky demanded.

  'Take it any way you want, you lazy git.'

  Micky lunged forward and the two men struggled, falling against the table. All the crates slid noisily to the ground as they wrestled, kicking and shouting at one another, heedless of the spectacle they were making.

  Bella grabbed Terry's arm and pulled him under the stairs knowing they would have to wait there the two men had exhausted themselves.

  Sean helped Ronnie out of the car. Together they crossed the wharf frontage. An early morning breeze blew off the river and at the door of the warehouse, Ronnie gazed up at the dilapidated shell. Before the Blitz, he remembered this place as a timber yard, serviced by the tugs on the river, a hive of industry. A wave of sadness washed over him at the memory. Those days were long gone. When the Bryants were a close family and Dad's word was law. For a moment he was reluctant to go in. But Micky had left him no choice. Like the old building towering above him, their time as a family was running out.

  'Ronnie, give Micky another chance,' Sean pleaded, the strain of the night's events evident on his face. 'He should have told you about the still. I don't deny that. But this is not the time to square it. With Stratton's outfit breathing down our necks, we've got to stick together.'

  'Stick together?' Ronnie repeated in surprise. 'Where was Micky last night, when my club was wrecked? Where were you? It's Joyce I have to thank for giving Bernie and Sid an early night. If they hadn't knocked off when they did, you would have found what was left of me floating in East India docks.'

  Sean looked shamefaced. 'I know Ron. What can I say?'

  'Nothing. The damage is done.' Ronnie saw the tears of regret form in his brother's eyes. 'None of this would be happening if you had been straight with me. What possessed you, Sean? If Micky put you under pressure to deliver for him, then you should have come to me. This substance is as reliable as the weather. It knocked out hundreds of Yanks in the war, was more effective than the Luftwaffe's bombs. In fact Hitler should have dropped bottles of it on London to achieve a successful invasion. Now Micky has finally excelled himself and taken out Sammy Stratton's brother.'

  'I know all you are saying is true,' Sean agreed lamely. 'But I'm scared Ron. And I don't mind admitting it.'

  Ronnie looked into his brother's terrified face. 'And so you should be. If it's an official pardon from Sammy Stratton that you're looking for, you are going to be disappointed. We are all in over our heads now.'

  Watching the tears fill his brother's eyes, Ronnie hardened his heart. He loved Sean as he loved Micky, but they had both deceived him and now all three of them were paying for it.

  When they entered the warehouse, Micky and Lenny Rigler were staggering to their feet, covered in dust, their boots crunching on broken glass. They looked as though they'd been fighting but he was shocked to see Bella and Terry hiding under the stairs.

  'Ronnie!' Micky gasped as he wiped the dirt from his face.

  'Don't let me interrupt,' Ronnie growled.

  'What are you doing here?'

  Glancing round the warehouse, Ronnie said coldly, 'What do you think?'

  Micky shrugged, a sudden smile on his face as he stepped over the glass and urged Ronnie forward. 'Matter of fact, I was going to ask you over, give you the guided tour. There's no time like the present, so come on in.'

  Ronnie knew Micky of old, understood the workings of his mind and his ability to regain his composure in the blink of an eye.

  'Who told you we was operating?' Micky asked casually, glancing accusingly at Sean.

  'The Stratton crew. They came to the club today. As you can see, it wasn't a friendly visit.' He opened his jacket to reveal his bloodstained shirt.

  'Christ, Ron! What happened?' Micky looked shocked as he stared at the wound. 'They did that to you? But why?'

  Ronnie let his jacket fall back into place. 'Tony Stratton poured too much of your hooch down his own throat and landed up in hospital. He's in a coma and Sammy now has only one aim in life. To eliminate you or me, but preferably both of us.'

  Micky stared in silence at his brother. 'You're kidding.'

  'If Sid and Bernie hadn't come back early from Joyce's I wouldn't be standing here now.'

  'But I never had no complaints from Sammy before,' Micky protested lamely. 'Me and Lenny make good stuff, we got a good business going!'

  'Tell that to the Strattons,' Ronnie muttered, his face taught with anger. 'I warned you often enough. Tried to shut you down but you wouldn't have it, even dragged Sean into delivering for you.' He pointed to Bella and Terry. 'And these two are involved, no doubt?'

  'Why not? They're on the payroll fair and square,' Micky stated defiantly. 'I give Terry a good wedge and he's thankful for it. Ask them if you don't believe me.'

  But Ronnie was having none of it. 'You have overstepped the mark this time, bringing in kids. But you wouldn't care about that, would you? You would use a cripple chained to a post without a second's thought if it suited your purpose.'

  'I swear, on Mum's life, Ron. My booze ain't iffy.'

  'Mum's not here, thank God,' Ronnie stated flatly. 'She would be sick at heart if she was.'

  Ronnie knew time was fast running out fast. He also knew he was weak from loss of blood. He would be weaker still when Sammy arrived. A part of him wanted to see Micky take Sammy's punishment and learn from it. But Micky was right. If Mum and Dad were here, they would not tolerate a split in the family. United they stood and united they fell.

  As he gazed into his brother's eyes, he knew that what was Micky's understanding of the world wasn't other peoples. But no matter what Micky had done, he was a Bryant. And Sammy Stratton would not be turning up to find him alone.

  Ronnie looked hard at his two brothers. 'Go to the car. Henry's hardware's in the boot. Bring the lot in. Sort it out between yourselves. And gather anything else handy that we can use.'

  Just then his legs began to fold beneath him. He knew he was about to black out from loss of blood. He shook his head in effort to rouse himself, but even before he hit the ground, he was out cold.

  Bella drew the damp cloth over his forehead. Very slowly he opened his eyes. 'It's all right, Ronnie, lay still.'

  'What happened?'

  'You passed out and I got Sean and Micky to bring you up here.'

  'Where are they now?'

  'They've gone down to the car. You're bleeding bad,
Ron.' She watched him ease himself up on the couch and press his hand over the blood on his shirt.

  'Bella, do yourself a favour girl, and get out of here,' he told her hoarsely. 'Take Terry with you and get as far away from here as possible.'

  She shook her head. 'I'm not going anywhere, Ron. Not without Micky.'

  Ronnie's voice was low. 'This doesn't involve you and it promises to be one hell of a night. Sid and Bernie will have dropped Sammy Stratton's two dummies off by now. When they spill the beans to Sammy there will be ructions. I want you to go to Joyce. She'll take care of you both.'

  'Don't waste your breath Ron,' Bella said stubbornly. 'Me and Terry are staying.'

  Just then Sean and Micky came up the stairs. 'Are you all right, bruv?'

  Ronnie wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. 'Yeah. I'm okay. Have you done what I told you?'

  Micky nodded. 'We're ready for them.'

  Sean looked worried. 'How do we know if they'll come?'

  'They will, take my word for it,' Ronnie assured him.

  'We're looking at a full-scale bundle?' Sean asked, going pale.

  Ronnie nodded as he swung his legs down from the couch. 'Yeah, no doubt about that.'

  'You're bleeding bad,' Micky said anxiously. 'Bella, you got anything to put round him?'

  She nodded. 'I'll find some cloth. But the wound will need to be cleaned first.'

  Micky grinned at her. 'Say no more. A drop of the hard stuff is just what you want.' He went downstairs and returned with a hip flask. 'Here you are girl, this will do the job.'

  'What's in there?' Ronnie demanded, frowning suspiciously. 'Not the rubbish you concoct, I hope.'

  'Of course not,' Micky replied sullenly. 'Now go on Bells, clean him up.'

  When they were alone, she opened the soiled jacket and undid the buttons of the shirt. Her stomach lurched at the sight of the knife wound and the blood seeping out of it.

  Ronnie caught her wrist and shook it. 'Look at me, Bella. I need you now. Don't faint on me, will you?'

  She swallowed. 'I'm all right.'

  'Have you ever used a needle and thread?'

  'Course I have. Lots of times. But - ' She stopped as she realized what he was implying.

  'Then you can stitch me up,' he continued, his eyes full of pain. 'It's the same principle. Won't be no different to darning a sock.'

  'But I've only got ordinary sewing things. Not the proper stuff like they use in a hospital.'

  'It'll do the same job, I promise you.' He tilted his head towards Terry. 'Now send the kid downstairs and give me some alcohol.'

  Five minutes later, when she had cleaned Ronnie up and given him the rest of the hip flask to drink, she prepared the needle and thread. It took all her will power to slide the point into his flesh and when he groaned she paused, trembling at the thought of the pain she was about to inflict.

  'Go on, go on,' Ronnie urged through gritted teeth.

  Forcing her fingers to move, she brought the two sides of the wound together. Ignoring the blood that still escaped, she sewed carefully, convincing herself that it was Terry's trousers she was mending, not Ronnie's wound.

  After it was over, Bella joined the men who were sitting at the table. Micky lit a cigarette and came over to her, drawing her aside. 'How is Ron?'

  'I had to stitch him up.'

  'Christ Almighty! What with?'

  'All I had was a sewing needle. I hope I've done it right.'

  'Course you have, Bells.' He tried to kiss her but she turned away. 'What's wrong?'

  'Tell me the truth, Micky. Was it the drink that poisoned Tony Stratton?'

  'The answer to that is a definite no,' he assured her, his eyes wide and innocent. 'If Tony is in hospital it wasn't me that put him there. Ask yourself this. Why should I shoot myself in the foot? Sammy is a good customer.'

  'Why won't he listen to reason, then?'

  'Ronnie has damaged his men, started a war. I'm sorry to say, Bells, but my brother has cooked the proverbial goose and Sammy has to show balls. His reputation has been damaged and he has to put that right. Given the chance, I would have handled it without aggro. Talked to old Sammy, assured him my booze is one hundred percent kosher and the guilty party is still out there on the loose. And Sammy would have listened, I know it. But no, Ron had to play the big "I am". He wanted to believe it was me because he was envious of what I have created here. That's what it boils down to, I'm afraid. But Bells, I'm not a man to bear a grudge and I can overlook this.'

  Bella listened to what he was telling her. She wanted to believe him and her arms ached to go round him and pull him close. She didn't want to think Ronnie had let him down, but only one of them could be right. 'Will Sammy Stratton really come here?'

  'Yeah, Ronnie's right about that. And we're ready for him.' He put his arms around her and hugged her. 'You take Terry and get upstairs with Ron.'

  'I'm scared, Micky. But I'm more scared for you.'

  'Don't be.' He patted his overcoat pocket. 'I've got the shooter. Remember the rats down the docks?'

  'You're not going to use a gun are you?'

  'If I have to.'

  'Does Ronnie know you've got a gun?'

  'No and don't you go telling him. Ronnie don't favour guns, never has. But Bells, he's not in a position to argue is he? Look at it this way.' He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. 'Tonight is the beginning of a new era. Okay, mistakes have been made I grant you. I should have told Ron face to face about the still and I can see his point. But when this is over, the Bryants will be the top Firm in the eyes of the East End.' His eyebrows rose. 'Remember what that bastard Router did to you and Terry? How me and Ronnie took him out? We were on our way up then, lords of our territory. And it's going to be that way again, if I have anything to do with it.'

  'But Ronnie could have died tonight, Micky.'

  'I know and I am sorry. But this isn't about Ron, it's about us, you and me. And our future.'

  'I want you all in one piece, Micky. I love you.'

  He kissed her, pulling her against him and she knew that she loved him more than ever. Ronnie had been as much to blame in all this, she could see that now. Slowly her world slipped back into place as Micky whispered, for the first time, he loved her too.

  Ronnie was asleep when the cars pulled up. Their headlights reflected across the timbers and Bella listened to the voices, the sound of car doors banging and heavy boots on the stones. She and Terry waited, the only sound, Ronnie's breathing.

  Suddenly there was a loud crack. Were they the same sounds as when Micky had killed the rats? Would he really use his gun to kill Sammy Stratton? Or would Sammy try to kill Micky first?

  Ronnie groaned, shifting on the couch. He sat up, swinging his legs to the ground. Shaking his head, he staggered to the stairs and fumbled his way down them. A strange smell began to fill the air. Soon smoke swirled all around Bella, creeping into the timbers of the loft.

  'Bella, where are you?' Micky called a few minutes later as he scrambled up the stairs. 'I can't see a foot in front of me. The still is on fire! We've got to get out of here.'

  Bella began to cough as the smoke flowed across the floor and into the confined space. Micky grabbed her hand; she managed to take hold of Terry's and they somehow found the stairs. The thick stench of burning filled her nose and painfully stung her eyes. She saw the outlines of Sean and Lenny helping Ronnie past the tank as the mixture inside rumbled dangerously. 'This thing will blow any minute,' Lenny shouted and it was then that Bella knew they must run for their lives.

  Chapter 15

  They followed Lenny down the alley, still coughing and covered in ash. The tradesmen's entrance as Gina called it, was locked and Bella heard Lenny curse as he almost fell over the rubbish outside. 'I was out on a bender last night and she won't be best pleased.' He knocked lightly on the door. 'Gina, it's me, open up.' They stood in the darkness, waiting as a light finally came on inside. 'She's going to kill me,' Lenny muttered. 'Brain me first,
then kill me.'

  'Who is it?' Gina demanded from the other side of the door.

  'It's me,' Lenny coughed. 'Open the door, Gina.'

  'I'm not talking to you, Lenny Rigler. I've not seen you for two days. Look at my yard! Stinking it is. Whilst you're doing sweet Fanny Adams the flies are breeding in here as big as rats. And I'm supposed to be running a business!'

  'I'll clear up in the morning.'

  'Yeah, and I'm the pope. It's a wonder you can stand there and not drop from the stink.'

  'Gina?' Bella stepped forward. 'It's me as well.'

  'Is he sozzled?'

  'No, Lenny's stone cold sober. We all are.'

  The lock snapped back inside. Gina, wearing a frilly blue dressing gown and no make-up, opened the door slowly. She stared accusingly at Lenny then frowned at the other black faces. 'Blimey, where have you lot been dug up from?' She pointed to Ronnie, his arms outspread around Sean and Ashley's shoulders. 'Who is he?'

  'This is Ronnie, Micky's brother,' Bella said. 'He's had - an accident.'

  Gina stared at the bloodstained jacket, then ignoring Lenny, she opened the door. 'You'd better come in, I suppose.' She folded her arms across her chest as she watched them enter, treading over the empty boxes, rotting vegetable and waste that Lenny had omitted to clear. 'So trouble has finally landed at your door, Micky,' she sneered as they lowered Ronnie onto the nearest seat.

  'Don't start, Gina,' Micky warned as he wiped his filthy face in the crook of his arm. 'All we want is a couple of beds for the night.'

  'What's wrong with your own?' Gina's tone was scathing. 'No, don't tell me, I already know the answer. As sure as pigs live in shit, it's got something to do with that bloody still!'

  'Then this next bit of news is going to warm your heart,' Micky replied sourly. 'The still went up in smoke tonight, the lot of it.'

  Gina looked disbelieving as she stared from one to the other. 'You're having a laugh, aren't you?'