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

by Carol Rivers

  Bella knew Dolly was being kind and would be willing to listen to anything that Bella had to confide. But Mary was a sensitive subject and one that Bella didn't even like thinking about herself because it was too painful. 'The truth is Dolly, I'm content with my life now. I have everything I want. A wonderful husband, a gorgeous little boy and family and friends. Bow Street seems like a bad dream. When I think of what that man did to me and Terry I feel physically sick. After all he put us through, I don't think I can ever forgive him. As for Mum, she didn't want us, didn't she? All I'm trying to do is forget.'

  'I understand.' Dolly nodded at once. 'I'd feel the same if it was me.' She paused, looking at Bella from the corner of her eyes. 'So you don't ever think about going round to visit?'

  Bella rolled her eyes. 'And have the door slammed in my face again?'

  'She might not. Not if young Michael was with you. He's her first grandchild after all.'

  'What would I say?'

  Dolly shrugged. ' "Hello, Mum, this is Michael, your grandson." At least you would have given her a chance.'

  'Oh, Dolly, I don't know. I can hear Micky telling me I was asking for trouble.'

  'I suppose you're right.' Dolly bit her lip, a sure sign that she was reluctant to say what she was about to say. 'But if you change your mind, me and the girls will go with you. Your mum would have to think twice with the lot of us standing on the doorstep.' She laughed nervously as one of the grips fell out of her untidy hair and she pushed it back into place again.

  'I don't know, Dolly. Even if she invited us in, he'd be there.'

  Dolly shuddered. 'Yes, but it's your mum you're going to see, Bella, not him.'

  Bella was silent, her thoughts in turmoil. Dolly was forcing her to consider something she would prefer to ignore. She had buried her fear and loathing of the man by sealing off her feelings for Mary. But her friend was right. Michael would ask after his granny when he went to school. In fact, she was surprised he hadn't already as all his little friends had grannies.

  It was a lovely day, with the market in full swing as shoppers strolled lazily through it. The fruit and vegetable stall was under siege by its customers and the jewellery and watches had also drawn a crowd. The air was heavy with the smell of overripe vegetables and horse dung mixed with a waft of disinfectant from the public lavatories.

  'I appreciate you saying you'd come with me, Dol,' Bella said gratefully.

  'You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?'

  'Course I would,' Bella insisted.

  'Mum and Dad love it when you bring Michael round.'

  Bella often saw Mr and Mrs Taylor at Dolly's house. They always gave her and Michael a warm welcome and amused the children whilst she and Dolly had a quiet chat in the kitchen. They still laughed when Mr Taylor told the children about Doctor Carrot and Potato Pete. But Raymond was a sore subject with Micky. Although Ray had lost his job at the PLA and moved to Southend to work on the funfairs, Micky had refused point blank to go to Dolly's wedding. She had been forced to tell a barefaced lie to Dolly, saying Micky was ill and unable to attend.

  'I'll consider what you said about Mum, Dol,' Bella agreed, but as they went on their way, she knew she didn't want to see Bow Street again. Her life seemed far removed from what it had been as a child. And Michael hadn't asked any questions yet, she told herself quickly. As Micky often remarked, love for today and let tomorrow take care of itself.

  It was Sunday and Bella's kitchen was filled with succulent cooking smells. Whilst Gina set out the sausage rolls, lifting them cleanly from the greased cake tins on to the rack, Bella poured out the lemonade.

  'I wish my pastry turned out so crispy and brown,' Bella said wistfully. 'It's not a bit like yours.'

  'Course it is. You are a good cook now, girl, even though I say it myself. I taught you well.'

  'You taught me everything I know.'

  'I still miss you,' Gina said with a sigh. 'Little Tina's a treasure and Lenny pulls his weight, but the two of them put together don't fill your shoes, love.'

  Bella knew that Gina meant what she said and she smiled. 'Tina is a sweet girl, Gina. She's a good waitress and likes the customers.'

  Now it was Gina's turn to smile. 'Likes them too much, that's the trouble. That little arse has been pinched so many times it must be blue not pink under that tight skirt of hers. I tell her to give them a slap when they do it, but all she does is giggle and encourage them.'

  Bella had met Tina when she'd taken Michael to the cafe for a plate of chips. She was a lovely cockney girl, never short of a cheeky answer for her customers. She had been working for Gina since she left school three years ago and they got on well. Lenny continued to act as cleaner and general dogsbody, a role he had become accustomed to. Bella was pleased for Gina and Lenny as business was still booming, attracting the many labourers who worked on the new building sites of the East End.

  Gina took off her apron and hung it on the peg behind the door. She glanced in the kitchen mirror, touching her black hair piled up behind her head. Bella smiled as she watched her friend take a lipstick from her bag and smooth it carefully over her full lips.

  Gina caught Bella's eye in the mirror. 'Shall I light the candles on the cake? Or do you want to wait for Micky?'

  Bella glanced at her watch. Micky had promised to be home for two but it was now four. The children had played all the games and exhausted themselves and now it was time to eat. She nodded to Gina. 'Let's go ahead, shall we?'

  Bella watched Gina walk to the sumptuous cream cake standing on the table. She lit each of the five blue candles standing upright in the icing, careful to avoid the message written in big iced loops. "Happy Birthday Michael".

  Bella hoped that even at the eleventh hour, Micky would turn up. Ronnie and Joyce, Dolly and Percy, Sean and Ashley and all the mothers of the children invited to the party were waiting expectantly in the sitting room. Lenny and Terry were at present entertaining the group of excited youngsters with magic tricks.

  Bella watched each little flame flicker alight. The five blue candles represented the five wonderful years of her marriage to Micky. She told herself she had everything she could possibly want, even if Micky wasn't here to share it.

  She gazed proudly at the place she had created to her own taste, a home she was proud of. The kitchen and scullery were painted a soft green and all the rooms were very spacious. The sitting room on the lower ground floor, was accessed by stairs leading up to the front door. Most of the furniture that she had chosen herself. She had taken pride in making the interior look elegant. All the heavy chintz drapes were from the market, the dresser, table and chairs from a Poplar furniture makers. The sideboard and glossy cocktail cabinet were bought from a Stepney warehouse. The thick Indian rugs on the floor covered the old duckboards and the large hearth contained an open fire that was always burning in the winter. In honour of Mrs Bryant the mantel was decorated with her brass tongs, coal scuttle, muffin fork and brass fender.

  Bella liked to think Micky's parents would have approved of her choice. The exception to the rule was Michael's bedroom which was modern. A single bed, a slim wardrobe and chest of drawers were painted white and the shelves that filled the walls were full of Michael's books and toys. The two other bedrooms had double beds and suites of solid oak furniture. She had installed a rocking chair in their bedroom, where when Michael was a baby, she rocked him to sleep in her arms. The window was below the ground level outside and stairs from the back garden ran down to it. For many years they had been sealed off but when Ronnie had opened up the airey for them, he had removed the barricade and cleaned and painted them. Now that it was such a busy house, they were often used, not least by young Michael himself as he ran up and down them and into the garden.

  'Ready?' Gina asked lifting the cake on its big china plate.

  Bella nodded. How lucky she was to have family and friends around her and a happy, healthy little boy. If only Micky was here!

  At that moment Michael came
bounding towards her in his new white birthday shirt and short blue trousers. Ann and Irene followed him dressed in beautiful pink frilly party dresses and black patent shoes. The other children all followed and there were screams of delight as Gina held the cake aloft.

  In the sitting room, she placed it on a small table in the centre of the floor. All the adults clapped and the children jumped up and down excitedly. Bella began to sing "Happy Birthday" as Michael stepped forward to puff out his cheeks.

  Bella hugged him as he took a big breath and blew. All the candles went out and once more everyone cheered. Ronnie lifted Michael on to his shoulders as Bella began to cut the cake. She glanced up for a moment and looked at her son. Ronnie was like a second father to him. He had always been there; present in his life from the day he was born when Micky was out and Bella had given birth in the big double bed that was once Mr and Mrs Bryant's. It was Ronnie who had first held Michael in his arms as the midwife and doctor took leave and Sean went out to find Micky. It was Ronnie who, a year later, had driven them to the hospital when Michael had developed whooping cough and Micky had been at work, unable to be reached. It was Ronnie who had taken them up last year to the city on Coronation Day to see the golden coach carrying the new Queen. And it was always Ronnie and Sean who played football with Michael each Sunday in the yard whilst Micky was hard at work.

  And now it was Ronnie who was holding Michael aloft on his fifth birthday, making him laugh aloud as he sat on his shoulders.

  Bella sighed softly as she watched their antics. Her world would be complete if only Micky was here too.

  Chapter 18

  Ronnie was standing at the window, looking down on Piper Street. The plane trees were shedding their September leaves. After last night's rainfall, gutters were blocked and puddles had formed in the road. Lost in thought he stroked the fine dark material of his jacket. His long fingers teased the skin beneath, gently irritating the remains of the scar on his chest. The injury brought back memories, the Strattons, the distillery and the fire. How many times had he consoled himself with the fact they had all survived? Fate had spared them and for a while they had lived in peace. But now there was danger once more.

  Stronger, harder men had arrived on the scene. Like Billy McNee and his Firm. Ronnie transferred his hand to the back of his head. Pensively he stroked his short dark hair styled above his collar. His grey eyes, fringed with ebony lashes looked into the distance.

  He had finally come to a decision and now he was set on his course. He'd listened to some of his customers who made their money in the building sector, buying property, doing it up and letting it out. It was hard work, but paid off they said - if you stuck at it. And Ronnie felt ready for change. Whilst he was young enough to put his back into a new career, he would give it all he had. Yes, it was a big step, but he was prepared to take it. It was Micky's reaction to selling the Blue Moon that was worrying him. Even though Micky had no financial interest in the club, he revelled in the prestige that the club's name brought the family. The Blue Moon was respected and a good earner too. But now it was attracting the wrong kind of attention. And Ronnie had decided to cut his losses whilst he could.

  He turned from the window to face Sean and Ashley. They sat at the big polished table, dressed in silver grey mohair suits and Slim Jim ties. Their faces were animated, full of the excitement generated by their new venture, a hairdressing salon. Ronnie had given them a good start by buying the run down property in Greenwich and doing it up. Furnished with the latest in hooded hairdryers, comfortable chairs and private cubicles, the customers had soon been fighting each other for appointments.

  'Ronnie, can we get started?' Sean looked into his brother's thoughtful eyes. 'We've got shampoos and sets coming out of our ears today and Micky's timekeeping is lousy.'

  'You've got a point there,' Ronnie agreed as he heard Bella and Joyce's voices. They were climbing the steps from the airey where they had been enjoying a chat and cup of tea whilst young Michael was at school.

  Ronnie glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to eleven. He hoped to conclude the outstanding business by midday and once more he glanced out of the window hoping that Micky would appear.

  Joyce and Bella entered the room and Ronnie smiled warmly, indicating their customary seats. Joyce took the chair beside him, Bella the one on the opposite side.

  'I'm sorry Ronnie, he must be busy,' she apologised as she sat down. 'He drove Terry in to the garage this morning and must be delayed.'

  Ronnie shrugged, hiding his annoyance. 'We'll get on with business, then, shall we?'

  All heads nodded and Ronnie kept the lid on his irritation at Micky. His timekeeping was getting worse. But then, to his relief, there was an engine growl outside.

  'He's here!' Bella exclaimed and Ronnie glanced through the lace curtains to see a white car pull into the curb.

  Micky soon appeared, looking to Ronnie as though he had just stepped out of a film. His black hair was windblown around his tanned skin and he was dressed in a fawn summer blazer and navy blue trousers. He kissed the top of his wife's head and pulled out the chair beside her.

  'Nice of you to turn up, Micky,' Ronnie said.

  'Yeah, well, family comes first, don't it?'

  Ronnie's eyebrows rose briefly at this remark. It was a blinder, coming from someone who neglected his family. A problem he hoped would soon be rectified by the addition of Milo. Ronnie for one would be relieved when Micky took more responsibility for the upbringing of his young son. The boy was one in a million, a lovely kid. Ronnie was amazed at his own depth of feeling for his nephew. He tried to make up for Micky's absence, but it was not a situation he was happy with.

  Ronnie looked into the expectant faces staring up at him. He was reluctant to break the news, but it was reason he had called the family together. The Blue Moon had been a way of life and everyone in here would miss it. He had made many friends whilst running it, even a few enemies. But as much as he regretted the fact, times had moved on. As a family they must move with them.

  'This won't take long,' he said abruptly. 'For the last five years we have protected our property, kept out the big crews. The Bennetts and the Sabinis and new Faces like the Donovans. They all saw us as easy pickings and wanted a bigger slice of the pie. But now, we have to deal with an outsider.'

  ' Billy McNee? That mug from Notting Hill?' Micky sneered.

  'Not so much of a mug, Micky. He's taken over other manors and not looked back.'

  Micky shrugged. 'It's just a question of tightening up. We never ran scared of no one, Ron. Bernie and Sid have been with us years and we can take on more muscle if McNee threatens us. No one would dare tread on our toes and if they did they'd be sorry.'

  'That's not the true picture, Micky,' Ronnie replied shortly. 'Last week Joyce had a visit.'

  'From him?' Micky looked startled. 'Did you, Joyce?'

  She nodded, saying nothing.

  'They own half of Soho now,' Ronnie continued. 'And you know their reputation, connections with Old Bill included. They've built on their investment and are respected for their pull.'

  Micky moved restlessly and Ronnie sensed this was not going to go down well. Micky resisted change and Ronnie knew in his heart that his brother still believed he had been robbed of the distillery. They never discussed it now. But it was there between them and always would be.

  'So what if they pull a few strings? Billy's crew is west of us and of no importance. Joyce's place is not in their manor.'

  Micky looked astonished as Joyce answered for Ronnie. 'Billy McNee ignores boundaries. He arrives with an army in tow. It don't take a genius to see which way the wind is blowing. He's buying up all the cream businesses of which I am one.'

  Micky looked nonplussed. 'But you had Ronnie's men on the doors, didn't you?'

  Joyce nodded, her expression weary. 'They were outnumbered ten to one. And when Billy left, he took two of my girls with him.'

  'He can't do that!'

  'He can a
nd he did.' Joyce shrugged her shoulders and looked into Micky's shocked gaze. 'I'm selling out, Micky. I'm likely to end up with nothing except a severe case of concussion.'

  'But we can take him! We can soon shut him up,' Micky protested.

  Joyce smiled as she shook her head. 'You don't understand, Micky. They were tooled up and in an impressive way. McNee is an operator, bigger than you've ever dreamed of.'

  Micky's head jerked round, shock registering in his eyes. 'Did they come to the club?'

  Ronnie nodded. 'Yeah, no surprises there.'

  'What happened?'

  'What I have been expecting for quite a while. He made me an offer I couldn't refuse.'

  'What are you saying!' Micky shouted. 'The Blue Moon is Bryant turf. You can't ditch it. The club is ours, always has been. This is our manor.'

  Ronnie felt the anger that he had been forced to hide suddenly fill him again. He didn't want to lose the club any more than Micky did. And he also knew Micky wouldn't understand. He hadn't seen the full force of McNee's outfit. Joyce was right, they were an army, acquiring every club and brothel across the city that Billy fancied. Ronnie had thought hard about the future as he gazed into McNee's cold eyes. The man was wearing rings and a quality suit, but underneath he was a new breed of villain. The quality that put him above the rest was his insatiable greed. He took out anyone in his way. Billy McNee was travelling East. He was advancing and if Ronnie opposed him, without doubt there would be loss of life. In that moment of clarity, Ronnie had agreed. He had done the deal, accepted the offer and called it a day.

  'I'm quitting, Micky. Time to move on.'

  'You are going to be pushed around by the likes of McNee?'

  'I'm accepting his price.'

  'I don't believe I'm hearing you,' Micky said. 'We're not cowards, Ron. We've got to fight.'

  'Like we fought at the warehouse?' It was Sean who spoke now, his face tense as he looked at his brother. 'I've not forgotten what happened that night Micky = and neither should you. Ronnie nearly died, the place was burnt to a cinder and we lost our business. Or have you blanked out Sammy Stratton?'