by Sam Michaels
She glanced at the clock. Georgina would be arriving soon. As she walked towards the bedroom window, the idea of catching a glimpse of her caused butterflies to flutter in Varvara’s stomach. She tried to tell herself to pull herself together but then she saw Georgina round the corner of the street. Varvara’s jaw dropped at the sight. As always, the woman looked magnificent and left Varvara craving her attention.
She dashed out of her room and to the top of the stairs. There, she waited a few moments and timed it perfectly that she descended just as Georgina came through the front door.
‘Good morning, Varvara,’ Georgina said with a casual smile.
‘Good morning, Miss Garrett. I was just getting myself a hot drink. Would you like one?’
‘Yes, please. Coffee,’ Georgina answered, and then entered her office and closed the door behind her.
Varvara’s pulse quickened. She wished she could come up with a reason to be in the office for longer than it took to place a cup on a desk!
Once poured, as she carried Georgina’s coffee along the hallway, she met Mr Harel as he arrived for work. She found him to be a strange man. There was something about him that set him apart from others. She wasn’t sure what it was – maybe the way he looked at her? He didn’t gawp with any sign of desire, neither did he seem to look down on her status.
‘Good Morning, Varvara. Is that for Miss Garrett?’
‘Yes.’
‘Would you like me to take it?’
‘No, thank you,’ Varvara answered brusquely. She wished he didn’t have such impeccable manners and a kind face. It was very frustrating. She wanted to hate him the same way she loathed all men, but Mr Harel made it difficult for her to dislike him.
He held the office door open and Varvara took in the coffee. As she placed the cup on the desk, she was left disappointed when there was no acknowledgement from Georgina. She didn’t want gratitude but she did want to be noticed. She stood, waiting, though she had no idea what she was waiting for.
Georgina looked up from her desk. Once again, Varvara was struck by the woman’s striking eyes.
‘Yes, Varvara, what is it?’
‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’ she answered, hoping Georgina would say there was.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Perhaps you would like me to prepare you some food?’
‘No.’
‘I have this for you,’ Varvara said and reached into her pocket for a lace doily. She’d spent until the early hours of the morning preparing it, unravelling the threads from the only shawl she owned and refashioning them to make the doily.
‘Oh, erm, thank you.’
‘You are welcome, Miss Garrett. It is for your cup and saucer.’
‘Yes, I see, thanks. Now, I’m very busy so if you don’t mind…’
That was it. Her cue for dismissal. Miss Garrett hadn’t seemed impressed with the doily, but Varvara realised it wasn’t much of a present. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the means to lavish the woman with expensive jewels and French perfumes.
Varvara slowly left the office but as she pulled the door closed behind her, she left it slightly ajar. She stood outside and carefully listened.
She heard Georgina say, ‘We have a problem at Livingstone Road. The place is empty.’
‘Oh, erm, that’s not ideal. There’s no mortgage on the property but it needs to be operational.’
‘Yes, Benjamin, I realise that, and I need another woman here too. I just don’t know how to go about recruiting prostitutes. I’m not going to ask Knuckles for any help. He seems to have an eye for the very young ones.’
‘Where is he?’
‘I bumped into him on the way here and sent him on an errand.’
Good, thought Varvara, and with Knuckles out of the way, she tapped lightly on the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said as she entered, ‘but I was passing the office and overheard your conversation.’
Georgina looked at her with narrowed eyes. The woman wasn’t stupid and had probably worked out that Varvara had been eavesdropping.
‘You need women, prostitutes.’
‘Yes. Do you know any who’d work here?’
‘No, I don’t. Mickey and Mr Wilcox made it impossible for me to leave the brothel so I only saw the men who came to my room. I know what makes a good whore though and I know how to run an efficient brothel. I can manage here for you and Dina could look after Livingstone Road. It would be less for you to worry about.’
Georgina paused before answering. Varvara could tell she was mulling over the proposal, and behind her back she crossed her fingers.
At last, Georgina smiled and said, ‘I suppose that arrangement could have benefits… I’ll give you a trial period. You’ll both still have to take customers.’
‘Of course, Miss Garrett.’
‘I’ll arrange for Knuckles to take you and Dina out tonight. He’ll know where to find the women but you are to vet them and have the final say.’
‘Thank you, Miss Garrett. I won’t let you down.’
‘Good, and ensure the women you bring here want to work and are not forced to.’
Varvara felt as though she was walking on air as she ran up the stairs. This would bring her closer to Georgina, she was sure of it. She tapped on Dina’s door but as was usual nowadays, Dina ignored her.
‘Please, Dina, I have some good news. Can I come in?’
Dina unlocked her door and opened it but glared at Varvara with hatred in her eyes.
‘Let me in, I have to talk to you.’
Dina stood to one side, and though reluctant, she allowed Varvara through.
‘May I?’ Varvara asked as she walked across the room and went to sit on a velvet-covered gold gilt seat.
Dina nodded but her face remained sour-looking.
‘Miss Garrett would like us to run the brothels. I will control here and you will take care of Livingstone Road. This is a very good opportunity for us, no?’
‘Our freedom was a good opportunity for us but you have made sure we are still whores,’ Dina snapped in Russian, and pulled a cigarette and a strip of matches from her pocket.
‘Dina, there was nothing else for us to do. If we had left, we would have starved on the streets. But life is better for us now, yes?’
Dina blew smoke rings into the air and gave Varvara a sideways glance.
It hurt to see the contempt her sister held towards her. ‘Please don’t hate me for making us stay. I did what was best for us,’ Varvara said sincerely.
‘No, Varvara, not what was best for us. I’ve seen the way you look at her… You did what was best for you!’
‘That’s not true. I’ve always cared for you. I’ve always tried to protect you. You’re my sister, Dina.’
‘No, I’m not though, am I? We don’t share the same blood.’
‘That doesn’t matter. You are still my sister.’
‘You are no sister of mine.’
Varvara sighed. ‘You are angry – it is fine. You can hate me for now. But however much you deny me, I will always be your sister.’
Dina furiously stubbed out her cigarette. ‘At least if I am to work at Livingstone Road, I won’t have to see you and your ugly face.’
Varvara hid a small smile. Dina, though older than her, had always been like an impertinent child and now she was behaving like one again. ‘No, you won’t, but you’ll miss me,’ she teased.
Tears began to well in Dina’s eyes, a rare sight, and then the reality hit Varvara. ‘And I will miss you,’ she said and realised it would be the first time they would ever have been apart.
*
Georgina heard a car engine outside and looked out of the office window. Johnny Dymond had pulled up and as he climbed out, Georgina could see he was sporting two black eyes – inflicted by her the day before.
She quickly smoothed her hair with her hands then clasped them in front of her and rested them on the desk.
‘That was very sweet of
Varvara,’ Benjamin said.
‘Was it?’
‘Yes. The woman has nothing yet she gave you a gift.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘Good morning, Miss Garrett,’ Johnny said as he came in and offered a genuine friendly smile.
‘Hello, Johnny, this is a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you,’ she replied, and was glad he wasn’t harbouring any ill feeling towards her.
He pulled a seat round and, uninvited, sat in front of her desk. ‘That’s very girly,’ he said, pointing to the lace doily. ‘You’ll get used to the routines soon enough. I normally call in on Thursday mornings.’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘Yeah. It’s a big poker night on Wednesday, which means big loans. Here’s last night’s tickets,’ Johnny said and handed her three pieces of folded paper.
Georgina looked at him as she took the papers. Even with his purple bruises, he was still attractive and his bright blue eyes had a mischievous glint. He didn’t look quite as roguish as most of the other men and dressed with more class, a waistcoat under his suit rather than a pullover.
She studied what he’d written – three separate names and amounts with repayment schedules.
‘It was a good night. As you can see, Willy West copped it for a ton and his cousin, Gilbert, had a pony. Taff signed up for forty quid. Fucking mugs.’
‘And you’ve every confidence they can meet the repayment terms?’
‘Yes, and if they don’t, they’re fully aware of the consequences,’ Johnny answered and rubbed his hand over his knuckles. Then he jokingly added, ‘Though the way you can throw a punch, I reckon we oughta set you on ’em instead of me.’
She ignored that and instead, said, ‘I’ve been looking at the poker games and the associated loans. You’re doing a good job, Johnny. I’m impressed but I think we can do better.’
‘What do you mean? I’ve been running this side of things for years and there ain’t never been no complaints before.’
‘Jump down off your high horse. I’m not complaining, I said you’re doing a good job.’
‘So what’s your problem?’
‘We should aim for a more discerning player, one with deeper pockets.’
‘Come off it, Miss Garrett. You ain’t gonna get the likes of the bowler hat brigade gracing the top room of the Queen’s Head with their presence.’
‘I know, but I’m sure they could be enticed to a very select residence in Clapham.’
‘Are you on about Billy’s house?’ Johnny asked.
‘Yes. What do you think?’
‘I like it. The more money they’ve got, the more they’ve got to lose.’
‘Precisely. Do you think you can pull in the right people?’
‘Without a doubt. I know exactly who to talk to.’
‘Great. Give me two weeks to sort a few things. The first game will be the last Saturday of the month.’
‘I’ll have the room filled by then. Now, if you can reimburse me for last night’s expenses, I’ll be on me way.’
‘You can see Mr Harel for matters to do with money. Just one more thing, Johnny… the loans, you only operate with those playing the cards? You’re not lending to anyone else?’
‘No. Talk to Bruce about that. He’s a bugger for taking on the mothers. I won’t touch ’em, me. Not my game, Miss Garrett. I can’t be doing with roughing up a woman.’
Georgina was glad to hear it. She didn’t want to like Johnny Dymond but found she couldn’t help herself. He reminded her of a younger and better-looking version of her dad – a cheeky chap, or as her gran would say, a lovable rogue.
The office door opened again and Knuckles lumbered in.
‘See ya, Miss Garrett, and by the way, in case you was wondering, Mr Maynard is the man to see for bullets and guns,’ Johnny said and doffed his fedora to her as he passed Knuckles and left the office.
Georgina smiled at Johnny, but not at Knuckles. ‘Well?’ she asked the giant man.
‘Here you go, I’ve wrote it down,’ Knuckles replied and gave Georgina what she wanted.
‘You’re sure this is correct?’
‘Yep. What do you want it for?’
‘That’s none of your business, Knuckles,’ Georgina said, then warned, ‘and keep your mouth shut about this.’
She slipped the piece of paper into her clutch bag, alongside the pistol Lash had given her.
‘Benjamin, fill Knuckles in on what he’s to do later with Varvara and Dina. I’ll be back in a while,’ she said, and marched from the office, turning before she left to say to Knuckles, ‘And remember, you are not the boss of my women. Treat them with respect or you’ll have me to deal with.’
Outside, the sun was shining but Georgina was chilly as she headed to the Junction to find a taxicab. This was one of those times when she could really have done with a car and driver. It would have made her trip to South East London much easier.
As she walked, Georgina twisted her mother’s wedding ring and hoped she’d soon be back in Battersea, and in one piece. She knew a visit to David Maynard was daring. Some would say stupid or even suicidal. Regardless of what she’d heard about the man, she reasoned he couldn’t be as bad as Billy Wilcox and on more than one occasion, she’d managed to survive him.
This wasn’t something she was looking forward to doing, but it had to be done. She had no choice but to stand her ground. Georgina had something to prove. She was a woman but that didn’t give this Maynard bloke the right to walk all over her – and she was about to let him know.
*
‘I’m here to see Mr Maynard,’ Georgina said to the scarred-faced man who opened the door before she’d even knocked.
‘Fuck off,’ the man growled back.
‘No. Tell Mr Maynard that Miss Garrett is here. He’ll want to see me.’
The man turned his head and whispered but Georgina couldn’t see who to. She guessed he was passing on the message. As they waited for instructions, Georgina fixed her eyes on him. He sneered back at her and grimaced but she refused to be intimidated.
A few moments later, another man appeared, equally disturbing-looking as the first. He beckoned her inside where she found she was greeted with three guns being pointed at her head.
‘Well, this is a fine welcome,’ she said boldly.
‘Are you carrying?’ the man with the scar asked.
‘Yes, I never leave home without my powder puff and my pistol,’ she answered and opened her bag.
She heard the guns cock and with wide eyes, she froze. ‘You’ll be wanting this,’ she said and slowly held out her bag at arm’s length.
The scarred-faced man took it, removed the gun, and handed back her bag. Then with a nod of his head, he indicated to the others and she was led through to another room, but all three guns remained pointing at her.
The room was long and filled with furniture that she thought must be French. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen. Fine art adorned the flocked wallpapered walls and heavy drapes framed four tall windows. Directly in front, standing at the end, she could see a man with his back to her, peering out of a window and smoking a cigar. She knew by the cut of his fine suit and the way he carried himself that this was David Maynard.
‘You’re as brazen as I’d heard,’ he said and slowly turned to face her.
Georgina was surprised at how young he looked. She’d been expecting to meet a man in his fifties or sixties but David didn’t look a day past thirty. As his eyes set on her, he appeared to be just as surprised as she was.
‘They told me you had some bottle but I wasn’t told how beautiful you are.’
Georgina could feel her cheeks flush but she hadn’t come here for compliments and kept her face expressionless.
‘What can I do for you, Miss Garrett?’
‘Firstly, you can call your apes off me… I rather like my head the way it is and don’t particularly relish the thought of it being blown off.’
&nb
sp; ‘You heard the lady.’
His men dropped their aim and held their guns at their sides.
Georgina glanced round and then looked back at David. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m here to discuss your methods of delivering messages to me.’
‘I assume Mrs Wilcox passed on my best wishes?’
‘Yes, she did, in a sort of traumatised way. Mr Maynard, I’d like to make it quite clear that any business should be conducted directly through me. I am in charge of all matters relating to the Wilcox company, and as such, please refrain from harassing any other persons.’
‘Ha, you’re a piece of work, Miss Garrett. What makes you think that it’s acceptable to march in here off the street and tell me how to conduct myself? Do I need to remind you who you’re dealing with?’
‘No, that won’t be necessary. I’m well aware of your influence and capabilities. That being said, I was hoping that we could hold a civilised conversation without resorting to the use of violence or threats.’
‘Oh, I do apologise, Miss Garrett,’ David said in a mocking theatrical voice. ‘Where are my manners? Please, take a seat and let me get you a drink. After all, you’re an uninvited, loud-mouthed, up your own arse WOMAN, clearly living in cloud fucking cuckoo land!’
‘Well, if we’re going to throw insults around, at least I don’t need half a fucking dozen dicks with guns to make me look big and hard.’
She expected David to react with anger, but he looked somewhat taken aback.
‘Do they? Do they make me look big and hard?’ he asked.
‘A bit,’ Georgina answered, and they smiled at each other.
‘All right, you’ve made your point. I’ll leave Mrs Wilcox out of it. To be honest, she wasn’t what I’d expected Billy to have married. She’s nothing like you. I would have thought you’d have been more his sort. Anyway, as I told Mrs Wilcox, as long as you keep your operations in Battersea, you won’t encounter any problems from me.’