by Sam Michaels
‘I gave you my word that I would stay back unless anyone tries to hurt you. Is my word not good enough for you?’
‘Yes, of course it is, but if I’m honest, I’d rather you waited outside the pub.’
‘You cannot be serious!’
‘Yes, I am, deadly serious. You have to understand how important it is for me to earn a reputation. People have to know that they can’t challenge me. I should have been firmer from the start then maybe Ethel would be here now, safe and alive.’
‘Let me do this with you. I’m to be your husband – you don’t have to fight the world alone anymore. I’ll go in the pub and lay down the rules. We should work together.’
‘No, you don’t get it, Lash. This is a one-man show, or in this case, a one-woman show. I’m Georgina Garrett and my name is going to mean something. I’ll put the fear of God in people if I have to but I swear, no-one will ever hurt my loved ones again. This is my job. Sure, you can work for the business if that’s your choice, but you are not taking it away from me.’
‘You’re a fierce woman, Georgina, and believe me, I wouldn’t want to take anything away from you. I just want to look after you because I love you.’
‘If you love me, really love me, then you’ll respect how I feel and give me the room to do things my way. Or it’s not going to work with us.’
‘God, you’re so frustrating,’ Lash said through gritted teeth.
‘You wouldn’t love me if I was any different,’ Georgina replied with a sexy and teasing smirk.
He pulled her up from the seat and into his arms. ‘I’d love you no matter what,’ he said, and fervently kissed her.
She responded with equal ardour, then pulled away and breathlessly asked, ‘You agree to do things my way?’
‘It goes against everything I believe in, but I know how stubborn you can be. No talking to you will change your mind, will it?’
‘No, Lash, it won’t.’
‘I don’t want to lose you, Georgina, so I will concede to your wishes. I’ll wait outside and you can do whatever you feel you need to. But if you come out hurt, don’t try and stop me going in.’
Georgina nodded and smiled at her man. She had no intention of getting hurt tonight and once again, she’d charmed Lash into getting her own way. ‘Lash, I’m going to need more bullets. Can you get me any?’
‘No, my family are a long way from here. But why the need for more?’
‘Just as a precaution really. I’ll have to see David Maynard for them.’
‘I’ll see the man.’
‘No, it’s my job.’
‘Do you even know what bullets to ask for?’
‘What do you mean? Don’t I just ask him for handgun bullets?’
‘No, Georgina,’ Lash answered with affection and a shake of his head. ‘Different guns fire different bullets.’
‘Oh, blimey, good job you told me that. I could have made myself look like a complete idiot. Let’s go, and en route, you can tell me all about it,’ she said, and picked up her bag.
They drove to the Queen’s Head with Lash educating Georgina about ammunition. Lash sat in the back, and in the darkness, he held her hand. When they pulled up outside the pub, Victor opened the door for Georgina and she whispered to Lash, ‘This won’t take long. Wait here, and thank you.’ She took the gun from her bag and put it in her coat pocket and then removed her felt hat and placed it on the seat. ‘Don’t be surprised if you hear shots. It’ll be me. No running in with the heroics.’
She could tell Lash wasn’t happy but he replied, ‘Be careful and don’t take any unnecessary risks. I can’t believe I’m allowing this. I must need my head testing.’
‘You’re doing it for me because you love me. And I love you even more for standing back, especially as I understand how difficult this is for you to do.’
‘Go on, do what you have to do,’ Lash answered, then turned his anxious face away from her.
Victor walked into the pub first and held the door open for Georgina. She took a deep breath and marched in. One by one, heads turned and eyed her and all conversations ceased. She tried not to cough in the smoky atmosphere and confidently strode to the bar.
‘I’m Georgina Garrett,’ she said to the burly man who rested one of his thick arms on the ale pump. She saw he had tattoos on each of his fingers.
‘I know who you are,’ he replied in an unfriendly manner.
‘Good, then no further introductions will be required. Do you want to talk here or in private?’ she asked and looked around at the faces that were all now staring at her.
‘You can say whatever you’ve got to say here. My customers are my mates and they know the score.’
‘Fine. I understand you have a problem paying your dues?’
‘No. No problem.’
‘So you’ll be paying up then?’
‘No.’
‘Would you care to explain why you don’t think you need to pay them?’
‘No. I wouldn’t.’
Georgina cleared her throat. The landlord’s response didn’t come as a surprise to her. ‘Right then, I’ll remind you,’ she said and walked to the end of the bar where she lifted the hatch.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ the landlord asked and stomped towards her.
By now, Georgina was behind the bar and in front of the cash register. ‘I’m helping myself to all of your takings,’ she said and opened the till.
‘Ger orf,’ the landlord snapped and grabbed her arm to pull her away.
Georgina yanked herself free and turned to him. ‘I’ve tried the nice approach and my men have explained the terms of our arrangement with you. Your payments have been reduced because I don’t believe in extortion. You pay me a fair and affordable price and in return, I ensure that no other unwelcome gangs infiltrate the area and demand stupid money from you, as Billy Wilcox did. You’re not getting robbed blind like you was. This is the best insurance policy for your business.’
‘Look at you.’ The man grimaced at her. ‘You’re nothing but a fancy tart. What fucking protection could you offer me? Go on, clear off, you stupid slag.’
Without hesitation, Georgina reached for a bottle of spirits, smashed the end on the bar and jammed the jagged glass under the landlord’s chin. She held it there, just piercing his skin. ‘Do you want to call me that again?’
He glared at her but seemed too scared to move his head for fear of the broken bottle stabbing him.
Georgina dropped the bottle. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, that was unfair. Go on, I don’t have a weapon now, so would you like to repeat yourself?’
‘Yeah, all right. I said you’re a stupid slag,’ he sneered as he dabbed at the blood where the bottle had been.
Georgina was quick to move. Before the man saw it coming, she jabbed him under his chin with her left fist followed by a heavy right hook to the side of his head.
The man staggered and looked dazed before flying back at her. Georgina could see his huge clenched hand coming towards her and expertly dodged the punch and at the same time, she threw another in his direction. This one caught him in the eye socket and his brow split open.
‘Did I mention that I can box? Now, would you like to call me that again?’ she asked. He didn’t answer but several men were out of their seats.
Georgina was quick to react and pulled her gun from her coat pocket and fired a shot into the air. The noise was deafening and bits of debris from the ceiling fell to the floor. ‘Sit back down, the lot of you,’ she growled and pointed the firearm from one man to another. Everyone did as they were told, so Georgina refocused on the landlord. ‘I think it would be in your best interests if I give you a taster of why it’s important that you pay your insurance,’ she said, then called over to an old man at the piano, ‘Play me a tune, something cheerful.’
The old man took the roll-up hanging from his mouth and threw it to the floor and began banging out a lively piece that she’d never heard before. As the music played, Georgina walked along the bar a
nd meticulously knocked bottle after bottle to the floor. The overwhelming smell of the spilt alcohol turned her stomach but she remained staunch until every bottle had been smashed. ‘Stop,’ she shouted above the sound of the piano. The old man immediately pulled his hands back from the keys. ‘Anyone got a match?’ she asked with a smirk.
‘NO!’ the landlord yelled, ‘you’ll set us all alight!’
‘I know, but this is what will happen if you don’t pay me. It won’t be me who comes in here and demolishes your establishment. But someone will. Someone like Billy Wilcox. And once they’ve got a hold, they’ll go through Battersea like a dose of salts. You don’t want that, do you?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Good. You’ve seen sense. My men will be in for collection on their usual day. You can pay them double this week, for the inconvenience you’ve caused me. Here’s my contact details,’ she said and laid a piece of paper on the sticky bar. ‘Please feel free to call if you encounter any problems. Good evening.’
Georgina’s heels clicked over the wooden floor as she walked towards the exit with her gun in her hand hanging by her side. Victor held open the door and before she left, she turned and said, ‘I’d be obliged if you could let the other pubs know to expect my men. And let it be known – don’t mess with Georgina Garrett.’ She fired another shot. The bullet just missed the landlord’s head and shattered the mirror behind him. She glanced around the bar. Everyone had ducked; some had dived for cover. The landlord stood motionless with his hands over his head. ‘Take that as a warning.’
She left. Her work this evening was complete. She’d achieved what she’d set out to and no-one had been hurt, apart from a few bruises to the landlord’s face and probably his pride.
Lash was directly outside. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but my feet are soaked with booze.’ She laughed.
He took her hand but she pulled it away. When Georgina saw his hurt expression, she quickly explained. ‘I had to throw a few punches. I’m a bit out of practice and bruised my knuckles on the landlord’s face.’
Lash turned to Victor. ‘Did anyone attempt to go for her?’
‘No, she showed them who the guv is,’ he answered.
‘That’s my girl,’ Lash said and as they walked back to the car, he placed his arm over her shoulder. ‘I’m proud of you.’
‘Thanks. It means a lot to have your support.’
‘You’ve got it, Georgina, always. But I think I already know who’s going to be wearing the trousers in our marriage.’
‘Probably not me,’ she answered, smiling. ‘I grew up wearing trousers and now I rather like my skirts. Anyway, I’m an old-fashioned girl at heart. I’ll be a good wife at home, but in the office, I’m in charge.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Lash answered jokingly.
But it was no joke to Georgina. She meant every word. If Lash wanted to be a part of her life, he’d have to put aside his traditional views of a woman’s role and accept her for who she now was – Georgina Garrett. The boss.
17
Varvara had taken coffee into the office and as she handed the cups around, she scowled first at PC Cunningham and then at Lash. She hated them both, especially Lash, and couldn’t see what Miss Garrett saw in him. Granted, he was an attractive man, if you liked that sort of thing, but she believed Miss Garrett could do far better. A gentleman, perhaps, possibly a banker or a doctor. But this man, he was nothing but a gypsy, hardly a step up from a vagrant.
‘And another thing, Miss Garrett,’ PC Cunningham said. He slurped on his coffee then continued, ‘Could you try and refrain from firing random shots in pubs, please.’
‘There was nothing random about my firing,’ Georgina answered haughtily. ‘Why, has the landlord complained?’
‘No, far from it. Even though I could see the damage your gun had caused, he denied anything had happened. But we did receive two complaints from customers. Fear not, I have had the paperwork swept under the mat, but you can’t go round shooting at things like that.’
‘Why can’t I?’
‘Because it’s against the law!’
‘You’re paid well enough to turn a blind eye.’
‘And I do, Miss Garrett, but in future, try not to draw so much attention to yourself.’
‘I think we’re done here now. Mr Harel will see to you. Good day, officer.’
Varvara tried not to smirk as PC Cunningham placed his unfinished coffee on Georgina’s desk and huffily scraped his seat back.
‘And by the way, there’s a large group of people heading to London from up North. A hunger march by all accounts. A lot of us have been assigned extra duties to manage it. You’ll find the streets barren of police over the next day or two. Could be a good opportunity to do whatever you need to do.’
Georgina acknowledged Cunningham’s information with a small nod of her head but nothing more. Then she turned to Varvara and asked, ‘Can I help you?’
‘I’d like a word, in private,’ she answered and threw Lash a filthy look.
He was standing behind Miss Garrett, as if watching over her. Huh, thought Varvara. Miss Garrett didn’t need him for protection! She wished the woman could see her fiancé for what he was – scum. All gypsies were scum.
‘Not now, Varvara. I’ll be back later, we can speak then. And get rid of these weeds on my desk.’
Varvara had spent time scouring the backyard for wildflowers and had picked daisies, dandelions and buttercups. She’d carefully arranged the flowers in a small glass and hoped Miss Garrett would like them. She doubted that Lash ever brought the woman flowers. Now, the glass in her hand, she left the office disappointed though she’d enjoyed hearing Miss Garrett put that dirty policeman in his place. She loitered in the hallway for a while, hoping to get another glimpse of Miss Garrett as she left for wherever she was going.
The office door flew open and Victor came out followed by Miss Garrett. As always, the sight of her left Varvara in awe and she gazed at her longingly. Then her eyes snapped to Lash who looked at her with his eyebrows raised. He must have seen the way she’d been ogling Miss Garrett. Not that Varvara cared what he thought. She just hoped he wouldn’t say anything about it to Georgina.
With the house empty and no customers, Varvara decided to telephone Dina. She knew it wouldn’t be a long conversation – Dina never had much to say. She missed her sister but didn’t think Dina seemed bothered. In fact, Dina didn’t appear to care about anything. She rarely smiled and never cried. The only emotion she ever expressed was anger and even that was rare. Her sister needed to find love, as she had with Georgina. But Varvara doubted that would ever happen as Dina’s heart was frozen.
*
‘Miss Garrett, it’s such a pleasure to meet you,’ Aubrey gushed. ‘I’ve heard so much about you from Benny.’
‘All bad, I hope.’ Georgina smiled.
‘On the contrary, my dear. You’re quite as delightful as he said you’d be. Please, come through and let me get you something to drink. Champagne?’
‘No, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get straight down to business.’
‘Of course, I understand how terribly busy you must be. Do you mind if I partake? It’s past twelve, a perfectly civilised time for bubbles,’ Aubrey said and giggled.
Georgina got the impression that Aubrey was nervous. Good, she thought, that was the sort of reaction she now wanted from people.
‘Benjamin has filled me in about everything, and I’m still willing to make you an offer.’
‘Fabulous,’ Aubrey squealed and clapped his hands together.
‘However, considering the situation with this American chap and his association with the West End gang, the offer will be considerably less than you’re asking for.’
‘I find it awfully vulgar to discuss money but do tell, I’m dying to know.’
‘Ten per cent lower than Dickie’s offer and there’s no room for negotiation.’
‘Lower? But s
urely you’d at least match it?’
‘Why would I? You want to sell the club but not to him. I’m not desperate to buy it. It makes no odds to me if you don’t accept my offer. I’ll just say good day to you and be on my way. Ten per cent lower, take it or leave it.’
Aubrey knocked back his glass of champagne whilst Georgina sat looking at him steely-faced. She’d never played poker but Johnny Dymond had given her some good bluffing tips. Truth was, she desperately wanted the club in her portfolio. It earned a very healthy income and the coffers would soon be low in the business. As Benjamin had pointed out, it was a good, sound investment and with a word and a few quid in the ear of PC Cunningham’s colleague, she could guarantee it wouldn’t be raided.
‘I could accept Dickie’s offer and run.’
‘Do it then. You’re the one who’ll have to live with your choices.’
Aubrey let out a deep sigh. ‘I can’t, can I? How could I possibly sell it to that scoundrel and live happily ever after knowing that all my loyal customers and friends will have their club ruined by him. All right, Miss Garrett, you have a deal.’
Georgina shook the man’s hand. ‘I’ll have Benjamin arrange the payment immediately after the paperwork has been signed. Congratulations on your retirement.’
Aubrey waved his empty glass in front of him. ‘And congratulations to you, Miss Garrett, the new owner of The Penthouse Club. You will look after it for me, won’t you, dahling?’
‘Don’t worry, Aubrey, the place will be in safe hands,’ she assured him.
Once outside, Lash opened the car door for her.
‘I got it,’ she said, chuffed with herself, ‘and at a silly price.’
‘Well done, Georgina. I don’t mind telling you that was one place I was happy to wait outside.’
She climbed in and Lash sat next to her on the back seat. ‘Why?’ she asked.
‘I don’t feel comfortable around them queer folk,’ he answered and shuddered. ‘It’s not natural, is it?’
‘So you don’t want to be the manager there then? It comes with a room.’
‘No, thank you. I’m quite happy in the Clapham house. I have a comfortable bed, though I’d rather be sharing it with you.’