by Sam Michaels
Moments later, the car screeched to a stop outside Jane’s house. Molly was out of the car first and through the front door, followed by Georgina then Victor. They found Fanny, on her knees, in the middle of the front room wailing and clutching a piece of paper to her chest.
‘Where’s Edward?’ Molly asked frantically.
‘He took him… I turned me back for a minute and he was gone… I trusted him. I trusted Knuckles. How could he do this to me?’ Fanny cried.
‘Who took him? Knuckles?’ Georgina asked.
‘Yes… look,’ Fanny answered and held out the piece of paper.
Molly snatched it from her mother’s hand and quickly read it, before crying in anguish, ‘It says they’re going to kill Edward.’
Georgina took the note from her and Molly felt she was in some sort of a daze. Her mother was still on the floor and bawling. Georgina was pacing. The colour had drained from Victor’s face. And now the room began to spin. The next thing Molly became aware of was arms supporting her and she was led to the sofa. ‘Edward…’
‘Don’t worry, Molly. I’ll get him back safely. I promise,’ Georgina said.
Her mother sprung to her feet and then began shouting in a high-pitched grating voice. ‘You can’t promise that! How dare you give Molly false hope. You promised Ethel would come home safely. Where is she, eh? Where’s Ethel? She’s dead… because of you.’
Georgina looked hurt as she looked from Fanny to Molly. ‘I know that. I’m sorry. But I will bring Edward home.’
Molly hung her head. Her hands were clasped on her lap and she watched as tears fell from her eyes onto them.
Then her mother began talking scathingly again, aiming all her hatred at Georgina. ‘Molly should have left when she wanted to, but she stayed because of you. And look what’s happened now! I swear, Georgina, if anything happens to that baby, I’ll kill you myself.’
‘MUM! Please, you’re not helping,’ Molly cried. She then looked into Georgina’s eyes. ‘Bring my baby back to me. Do whatever you have to do but please, bring him home.’
‘I will,’ Georgina answered and Molly knew that her friend would do everything in her power to keep Edward from harm.
*
Varvara couldn’t bear to be away from Georgina and had remained hidden from view outside her house. It had upset Varvara to see her boss grieving over Dulcie and it had cut even deeper when Miss Garrett had coldly dismissed her. Varvara longed to hold Georgina close and soothe her broken heart but she knew it wasn’t possible. And with Lash away, there was no-one else to offer the woman comfort. The very least she could do was protect her, as she’d vowed to. Granted, Miss Garrett had Victor but Varvara didn’t believe he’d truly give his life for her, not in the way Varvara knew she would willingly do.
Dulcie’s front door flew open and Varvara covertly watched as Georgina, Molly and Victor jumped into the car and drove off at speed. She immediately sensed that something wasn’t right and her heart began to pound. Impulsively, she gave chase, dashing along the road but she couldn’t keep up with the speeding car and it turned a corner, out of sight.
Varvara carried on running, her teeth and fists clenched tight, and tried to think where they could be going. Queenstown Road, maybe? But Molly hadn’t visited the premises since the day Varvara had seen her there with Billy Wilcox. No, she didn’t think they’d be on their way there or to Livingstone Road. As she followed in the car’s path and turned the corner, a few streets further down she spotted it outside Jane’s house. Of course, that made sense. They’d be taking Molly home but why the rush? The ashen looks she’d seen on their faces indicated that something was dreadfully wrong.
Now breathless, Varvara stood on the other side of the road and watched the house. She was aware of a few strange looks from the local women but she was used to it now. These weren’t the type of ladies who wore anything other than their washed-out ragged dresses and aprons. Unlike her, in a sleek trouser suit and high-buttoned white shirt. Varvara knew her look made her stand out, but she was proud of herself. Her clothes were the height of ladies’ fashion but with a masculine touch. Coupled with her tall frame, she knew she looked strong and though the women of this street might stare, none dared to challenge her.
Varvara looked anxiously on, waiting for any sign of what was wrong. It felt like hours but just minutes later, the door opened again and Georgina emerged with Victor. She saw them having words and then Georgina hurried off along the street alone, leaving Victor looking perplexed standing by the side of the car.
Varvara ran across the street. ‘Where is Miss Garrett going?’ she demanded to know.
‘Knuckles has taken Edward. She’s gone to get him back.’
‘Why aren’t you with her?’
‘Mickey left Miss Garrett instructions to come alone or they’d kill the baby.’
‘No… no, Victor. We must be with her.’
‘She ordered me to wait here for her and look after Mrs Wilcox.’
‘She cannot go alone. They will murder her. Where has she gone?’
‘Varvara, if anything happens to the baby because you turn up there, Miss Garrett will go mad.’
‘Tell me where she has gone,’ Varvara demanded again, then softened her voice as she’d seen Georgina do on many occasions when winning her own way with men. ‘Please, Victor. I will be very discreet but I have to help her. She will be walking into an ambush.’
‘God, I shouldn’t tell you – just don’t let on that it came from me. Here’s where to go,’ Victor said and gave Varvara directions.
As she turned to walk away, Victor added, ‘Don’t let them kill her and be careful.’
Varvara had no intention of letting anyone kill Georgina and raced through the streets. She knew she wasn’t far behind Georgina and hoped she wasn’t too late.
When she found the house, Varvara thought it looked much nicer than where Georgina and Molly lived. This couldn’t be Mickey’s address, surely? But according to Victor, she was in the correct place. Her mind raced. Should she kick the door down and burst in? Knock and see what happened? Smash the window, cause a distraction? It was hard to know what was going on behind the clean net curtains and she wasn’t sure what to do for the best. But she knew, the longer she hung around outside dithering, the more time it gave them to hurt Georgina.
Varvara felt under the back of her jacket. The small handgun that Miss Garrett had given her was tucked into the waistband of her trousers. She’d executed Cyril with the same gun. That had been easy. The man had whimpered and begged but she’d used one clean shot to his head. This was a very different situation. She’d never fired the gun at a moving target and hoped her aim would be good. After all, Georgina’s life depended on it.
Without further hesitation, Varvara pulled out the gun and marched towards the front door. She hammered loudly and at the window to the side; she saw the net curtains move. Moments later the door opened just a crack and Varvara found herself looking down the barrel of a pistol. She couldn’t see who was holding it but judging by the size of the hand, she assumed it was Knuckles.
‘Drop your gun,’ he growled, ‘or I’ll shoot you where you’re standing.’
Yes, it was Knuckles. She recognised his voice. Varvara slowly crouched down and placed the gun on the floor in front of her. ‘I am unarmed,’ she said.
Knuckles pulled the door open a little wider and looked outside to make sure that she was alone. ‘Right, you can stand up again now.’
In that moment, Varvara grabbed the gun, cocked the hammer and she reached out to fire. She heard a terrific bang. Knuckles had pulled his trigger first but she shot back. The door swung open and she saw him fall backwards as blood spread across his shirt. She’d hit him, somewhere near his heart.
Varvara ran past Knuckles and shouted Miss Garrett’s name. She dashed through the first door and then stopped at the shocking sight. Mickey was holding the baby, a wicked leer on his face and a large knife in his hand. She saw a gun by his side
too. Georgina was on the other side of the room, sitting grim-faced on a wooden stool.
‘Don’t move, Varvara.’ Georgina said her words slowly. ‘He’ll cut the baby’s throat.’
Varvara tried to think fast. If her aim was good and if she moved quickly, could she shoot Mickey before he had a chance to slice at the baby? No, she doubted it.
‘Varvara, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I’m guessing one of those shots we heard has killed Knuckles?’
Varvara nodded, hardly daring to breathe.
‘The great, useless lump,’ Mickey said, as if he was talking about an old armchair. ‘So it’s just us now. Right, well, I can see how this will work. Varvara… slide your gun into the middle of the room, slowly… very slowly. And let me just remind you, one move out of either of you, and you can watch baby Edward bleed to death.’
Varvara looked at Georgina who quickly nodded. Then, as instructed, she pushed the gun across the paisley-patterned rug.
‘Good. Now, Miss Garrett. Pick up the gun. Take your time. Don’t give me any reason to hurt this child.’
Georgina did as she was told.
‘Good. Now, Varvara, walk around the outside of the room and stand in the far corner over there,’ Mickey said and pointed to the other side of the room.
Varvara kept her back to the wall and edged around until she was in position.
‘You’re doing as you’re told, and it’s about time too. Your pathetic game of playing boss is over, Georgina. It’s time for the big boys to take control now.’
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ she said scathingly. ‘You’re nothing, Mickey, and Billy Wilcox knew it too. Look at your face, burnt and scarred by Billy. And just because you gave him a bit of backchat. He left his mark on you to warn others. Branded you, like a cow. Yet you continued to lick his arse. That’s pathetic, not me.’
‘Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I? Do you know what we call you? Mickey the Matchstick. Yes, that’s right… we’ve had a right laugh about you.’
‘I’m warning you… shut your fucking mouth or I swear, I’ll kill this baby right now.’
‘What’s wrong, Mickey? Don’t you like hearing the truth?’
Varvara couldn’t believe Miss Garrett was goading him. All the while Mickey had a knife to the baby’s throat, he had the upper hand. It was typical of Georgina, Varvara thought, she wouldn’t go down quietly.
‘I’ve had enough of this. You can say your goodbyes to each other.’
Varvara wasn’t sure how Mickey planned on taking them out at the same time but while Georgina had a gun, there was still hope.
‘I don’t want another word out of you. Georgina, point that gun at your Russian tart and shoot her. Don’t disappoint me. You know what will happen to this baby if you do.’
Varvara now realised how Mickey planned on killing them both. She looked into Georgina’s beautiful eyes and saw the hopelessness of the situation. She could see her boss didn’t want to kill her, but understood there was no choice. Resigned to the fact it would be her life or Edward’s, Varvara nodded her head.
Georgina stood with the gun outstretched and Varvara heard the click of it being prepared to fire. She knew it would be better to close her eyes but couldn’t pull them away from Georgina’s. She wanted Georgina’s face to be the last thing she ever saw.
‘I’m waiting,’ Mickey said, mocking them.
‘I can’t… I can’t do it,’ Georgina said in a whisper.
‘Fine, don’t. But you can watch the baby die instead.’
‘No,’ Varvara screamed. ‘Kill me, Miss Garrett. DO IT!’
Seconds later there was a deafening noise that reverberated off the four walls and Varvara fell to the floor. She didn’t feel like she’d been shot, more like someone had punched her breast. As she stared up at the ceiling she thought she could hear the baby crying but her ears were ringing, muting all other sound. Her hand reached up and she felt a dampness on her chest. She looked at her palm. It was red with her own blood. Georgina had shot her but she was still breathing. Only just, but she wasn’t dead yet. She crooked her head and tried to lift it off the floor, but then another loud noise pierced the ringing in her ears. She wasn’t sure if this was a part of dying or if another shot had been fired. Then she saw Georgina on the floor. Had Mickey killed her?
Varvara’s head slumped back down and she struggled to pull air into her lungs. This was it. It was over. She coughed. It hurt. She could taste blood in her mouth. She closed her eyes and pictured Georgina smiling at her. She tried to reach out her hand to touch Georgina but she was too far away. As her life ebbed away and her blood seeped onto the varnished floorboards, Varvara knew it was over. Mickey, had won and Varvara hoped he’d spare the life of the baby.
*
Georgina heard a third gunshot and opened her eyes. She looked across to Mickey. There wasn’t much left of the side of his head. She saw Edward on the floor, kicking his legs out as he bawled. The loud noises must have terrified him. She glanced around the room. There was nobody else there, so who had shot Mickey? Were they still in the house?
Her head was pounding but she pushed herself up. The bullet had grazed her temple and she’d bashed her head when she’d fallen. She reached for the stool and stumbled as she climbed to her feet. Her nose twitched at the smell of acetone in the room. The aroma of the cordite hung in her nostrils.
Feeling dazed, Georgina touched her sore and bleeding head where the bullet had scraped and tried to pull herself together. Whoever had shot Mickey could gun her down at any moment. She staggered over to the baby and dropped to her knees to examine him. Relief washed over her at the absence of any obvious injuries. Then, still fearing that someone would burst into the room and shoot her, she gathered Edward in her arms.
‘Shush, little one, it’s all right,’ she whispered in his ear as she climbed back on her feet. That’s when she noticed the framed photograph on the mantel. PC Frank Cunningham, smiling on his wedding day. They were in a policeman’s house and dead bodies littered the floor. She had to get out and fast but how had this happened? She saw Mickey’s gun was lying on the floor by the side of his chair and briefly closed her eyes as she tried to recall the events of the last few minutes.
He’d aimed his gun at her and fired. She clearly remembered that. Then the other shot. The one that had blown Mickey’s head apart. Where had that come from? She hadn’t fired it and she was sure Varvara hadn’t. Could Mickey have blown out his own brains? It was the only answer that made any sense.
Georgina held Edward close to her chest and hurried across the room to where Varvara was lying in a pool of her own blood. It had been a horrendous decision, Varvara or the baby, but Edward had to come first. She’d aimed the shot to one side, hoping she wouldn’t hit any vital organs, and when Varvara suddenly spluttered Georgina dropped to her knees beside her. It had worked. Varvara was alive. ‘I’m going to get help, Varvara. Please, hold on… you’ll be fine.’
Varvara’s eyes slowly opened and fluttered before she focused on Georgina.
‘Did you hear me, Varvara? I’m going to make sure you get out of here.’
‘No, it’s too late,’ Varvara whispered, her voice weak.
‘Hang on, Varvara, please… Fight. Live.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered and coughed again. More blood trickled from her mouth.
Georgina could see the agony in Varvara’s face. ‘Please don’t give up,’ she begged but knew it was too late.
‘Miss Garrett…’
Georgina lowered her head to Varvara’s face so she could hear her dying words. She felt Varvara clench her hand a little tighter.
Then Varvara husked, ‘I love you. I’ve always loved you.’
Georgina quickly sat upright, shocked. She had no idea that Varvara had feelings for her. She looked down into her watery eyes. ‘I know,’ she lied as a tear slipped down her cheek. ‘And I thank you for loving me. No-one could ha
ve asked for a sweeter love,’ she said, and leaned back down to gently kiss Varvara’s cheek.
She felt her hand go limp in her own and Varvara’s head rolled to one side. She was gone but at least Georgina had been able to offer some small amount of comfort in her last moments. ‘You were a courageous woman, Varvara. Thank you. Rest in peace, dear lady,’ she said softly.
As Edward’s crying intensified, Georgina heard the distinctive sound of police bells drawing closer. She had to think quickly. The law was speeding towards her and if they found her here, it would look as though she’d committed mass murder. She glanced out of the window. A crowd had gathered outside. Georgina made a run for the back door and slipped out, hoping that none of the neighbours would spot her.
With Edward pulled in to her chest, she was soon near the familiar streets of home and satisfied that she was in the clear. ‘Your mum is going to be pleased to see you,’ she cooed in Edward’s ear.
When Georgina saw Victor running towards them, she felt the urge to burst out crying but held herself together. It wouldn’t do for the men to see her in tears. She had to keep up her tough image but really, she could feel herself crumbling inside. Varvara was dead, but thankfully she’d saved Edward. If she hadn’t she knew she’d never have been able to forgive herself – and neither would Molly.
31
Two days later, Molly still wouldn’t allow Edward out of her sight. It was the day of Dulcie’s funeral and though her child was fretful, she had every intention of taking him to the church.
‘Have you noticed Edward seems very quiet?’ Molly asked her mum.
Fanny turned round from the kitchen sink, her hands covered in suds and wiped her forearm across her brow. ‘Yes, but he’s probably traumatised, the poor mite.’
‘Yes, probably, but thank goodness he’s too young to remember any of it. Anyway, where’s Ivy? I thought she was coming with us today.’
‘She is. She’s gone over to see Georgina. She’s like a bloody whirlwind, that girl. Don’t sit still for a minute. No wonder she’s so skinny.’