East End Angel Part 4

'Now, Cyril,' Wes addressed the whimpering fellow clutching his b.a.l.l.s. 'Why are we having to do this when life could be easy?'

'Ain't givin' you a penny for any causes,' the fellow bubbled through his torn lips. 'Ain't political, am I? Don't believe in nuthin' except putting grub on me kids' plates.'

'Good man.' Wes nodded, strolling to and fro. 'Trouble is it's not what I want to hear, see. 'Cos I am political and I do believe very strongly in getting all the foreign parasites out of the country. Now I find your att.i.tude troubling, you being a family man with a business to run. You know the Jews are trying to take over everywhere, don't you?' He broke off as a bell clattered and a woman holding two young boys by the hands started to enter the shop. She wasn't a customer, she was the wife of the battered shopkeeper.

'Ah, Mrs Butler ... glad you're back, dear.' Politely, Wes removed his homburg and dropped it on the counter. 'I've been explaining to your husband how you've been actively supporting the cause but he thinks I'm lying.'

Mabel Butler turned white and shoved her kids back outside the door in an attempt to protect them. She ignored her groaning husband and rushed to the till, opening it and thrusting two pound notes at Wes.

'See? Easy as that, Cyril,' Wes said, folding the money. 'Now I could have taken it, couldn't I? But I don't steal. You remember that in case you're feeling daft enough to accuse me of any such nonsense to the boys in blue.'

'Wouldn't ever do that, Mr Silver,' Mabel a.s.sured hoa.r.s.ely. 'Never, ever ...'

'That's the spirit,' Wes said, patting her arm. 'It's a shame your husband hasn't your sense or good manners. Called me a fat Yid, he did; now that's not nice, is it?'

Mabel's head quivered in denial and she poisoned her p.r.o.ne husband with a darting glance.

'I live well, so I'm well built.' Wes used both hands to pat his girth. 'People get jealous. You jealous of me, Cyril?' Wes's humour had evaporated as quickly as it had fomented. He seemed keen to have an answer and the air of menace in the shop strengthened.

Charlie knew his boss liked nothing better than to be envied. If the fellow on the floor didn't come up with the right answer, he'd have to stamp on his privates again.

'You must be joking.' Cyril managed a sneer. He might have been down but he wasn't yet out. 'Never in me life want to be anything like you ...'

Charlie sighed. He didn't even have to look at his boss for confirmation, he just swung his boot.

Wes nodded at the two lads dodging to and fro to peer in through the drapery display in the window. 'Nice kids.' He raised his voice to be heard over the coughing groan coming from Cyril Butler, rolling on the floor. 'You look after them now, won't you ...?'

Charlie Potter nodded sagely, endorsing his boss's advice, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Well, come on, Charlie ... places to go ... people to see,' Wes chivvied playfully. He picked up his hat from the counter, tipping it at Mabel Butler before plonking it back on his sleek black head.

'How's your missus?' Wes asked as they walked off towards the greengrocer's shop on the corner. Within the premises was another local merchant who had felt disinclined to hand over his contribution to fund party politics, thus necessitating Wes arriving in person to explain to him the gravity of the situation. 'Saw your Ruby not so long ago and she looked a bit peaky, I thought. Hope everything's all right at home, son.' Wes gazed up at his sidekick's tense profile, noticing the lines on his face and the grey at his temples. Charlie was some four inches taller than he was and six years older. Nevertheless, Wes liked to think he was his superior in every way.

'She's dropped the nipper already,' Charlie muttered, keeping his eyes on pa.s.sing traffic.

'Yeah?' Wes waited expectantly.

'Bleedin' kids ...' Charlie grunted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 'f.u.c.kin' pain in the a.r.s.e ...'

'Well, that's one way to make sure you don't get her up the duff in future, Charlie.' Wes smirked. 'Either that or take your business elsewhere when you're h.o.r.n.y, son.'

Charlie tightened his lips. It wasn't the first time his boss had implied his wife was a bra.s.s. Although Charlie knew Ruby had been on the game before they met, he liked to think she'd laid off the profession since.

The fact that there was a little b.a.s.t.a.r.d at home who had yellow skin and slitted eyes naturally knocked sideways that fond notion. Charlie had knocked Ruby sideways when he'd first found out she was expecting. He could work out easily enough that he'd been locked up when she'd got herself in the family way again. What he couldn't understand was why she hadn't got rid of it. Soon after Pansy's birth his wife had got pregnant. She'd not told him how she'd stopped her belly bloating but he'd guessed she'd done a job on herself. This time she'd kept the kid, yet she must have known that when he got out of prison he'd go berserk. The idea that Ruby might not be as frightened of him as he liked to believe had enraged Charlie almost as much as the image of her opening her legs for a Chinaman while he'd been w.a.n.king on a prison bunk.

She'd wailed at him she'd been so skint without his wages coming in that she'd had to do whatever she could to earn a few bob to feed them all. It was probably true, but the excuse cut no ice with Charlie. He'd simply clumped her again and would've kept on but for Peter getting in from school and jumping on his back, howling. So he'd had to chastise his son with his fists as well. And that was a shame because he liked the boy. Peter sometimes reminded him of himself at that age: mouthy and brave ...

'So ... what is it, then? Boy or gel? Look like you, do it?'

His boss's jolly questions interrupted Charlie's thoughts, putting his teeth on edge.

Wes already knew the answers to his questions, but he liked to wind Charlie up. Ruby's new kid looked Chinese, so he'd heard. Wes was relis.h.i.+ng the irony of it all. They were out and about canva.s.sing to collect for the Fascist Party and rid the country of immigrants and there was Charlie with a Chinese baby under his roof. In a couple of years' time, it would be calling him Dad. Wes slanted a contemptuous look at his henchman but felt quite sorry for him. Charlie would be a laughing stock amongst his workmates on the dock if he let the cow get away with it.

'Up 'n' about again, is she, Charlie?' Wes prodded. 'Don't do to let women get away with s.h.i.+rking for too long. I had my May back on her feet as soon as the midwife walked out the front door. Get lazy, see, don't they, if you don't watch 'em ...'

It was Charlie's turn to hide a sn.i.g.g.e.r. He knew that Wes's old woman ran rings round him. If May wanted to sit on her fat a.r.s.e all day long then that's what she did. Wes was just happy his wife had a brain on her so the two of them could share it.

'In we go then ...' Wes lilted out as they came abreast of the greengrocery display piled up outside the shop. 'Another nonce, Charlie, who needs telling that all the immigrants are taking our jobs and our women. What bloke's gonna put up with a foreigner humping his wife ... eh?' Wes's crafty glance revealed that he'd successfully touched a nerve about Ruby's Chinaman. Sometimes, Wes felt bad about tormenting his sidekick but he had to carry on because it made Charlie so much better at doing his job.

Charlie burst in through the doorway, sending boxes of apples flying, making the greengrocer spin about at the commotion. The last thing the fellow saw before his face was rammed onto the wooden counter was Charlie's snarl.

Joyce Groves raised herself by digging an elbow into the feather pillow, while twirling her champagne flute by its stem. 'What you doin'?' she asked. She eyed the broad back of the man sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaching out lazy fingers, she trailed them to and fro over ridges of muscle.

'Making sure you don't get pregnant,' Nick said as he took the French letter out of the packet and put it on. Joyce put her gla.s.s of champagne down on the bedside table and flopped onto her back. Nick turned, sinking back onto the mattress, then rolled to drag her into his arms. He covered her in a swift precise movement and kissed her. Immediately, Joyce wound her arms around his neck, hooking her calves over his.

'Looking after you, see,' Nick growled against her hot eager mouth. 'You want to show me how grateful you are for that?'

Joyce wasn't grateful but she bucked and squirmed as he started to arouse her and soon she forgot to feel annoyed that he might have rumbled her little game.

Afterwards, she lay back, luxuriating in sensual lethargy, and thought she could grow used to this life ... expensive hotels and fancy food and drink. Nick had treated her to a night in a West End hotel and they'd seen a show and had a fantastic dinner of lobster and fillet steak. She glanced at the breakfast tray that held the remnants of their meal of eggs and smoked haddock, and another half-empty bottle of champagne. She felt quite like a princess, and she wanted her prince to make it a permanent state of affairs. She didn't want to go back to working in a greasy-spoon cafe that catered for workmen in overalls who pinched her backside every time she walked past.

She watched Nick through half-closed eyelids as he strolled to the window to stare at the street scene while fixing his tie. He'd been up and about as soon as his pa.s.sion was again spent. The strength of his lovemaking this morning had left a pleasant ache throbbing at the apex of her thighs and she stretched in cat-like contentment against the silky sheets, thinking.

She knew the reason Nick used johnnies was to protect himself rather than her. She'd heard that his wife had used the trick of getting herself pregnant to get a ring on her finger. Joyce had hoped to use the same ploy. But it seemed he wasn't going to fall for it second time around more was the pity.

She'd liked Nick since she'd been a school kid. He might be seven years older than she, but she'd noticed him right from the start. She knew he hadn't been aware she existed, but now she was old enough and attractive enough to put herself in his way, she was about to make sure that changed.

'I'm going to settle the shot,' Nick said, turning about and digging in his trouser pocket for a packet of cigarettes. 'Give you an hour or so to get yourself decent ...' he raised a mocking eyebrow at her dishevelled appearance, 'then we'll head back home.'

Joyce twisted onto her belly, an ardent look slanting from beneath her lashes. 'Sure you don't want to stay another night? I'll show you I'm not decent at all.'

'Got business to get to.' Nick shrugged into his suit jacket. 'Look lively, Joyce,' he added briskly, 'or you'll be catching the bus back to Whitechapel.' He smiled but Joyce didn't. She'd been seeing him for a few weeks now and knew he wasn't joking. He'd walked out on her before when she'd angled to keep his company for longer than he was prepared to allow her to have it.

In a short while, Joyce had learned that Nick Raven could be a cold man, despite the fire in his loins. And if he were not so generous in bed and out of it, she'd think he really didn't like women very much.

'Let's see how the little fellow's doing,' Kathy said, picking up the wrapped bundle and looking into small closed features. Ruby's baby was now a fortnight old and had not yet put on any weight. His complexion was smoother and it was clear he was a handsome child, despite his frailty. He had a mop of neat black hair and long ebony eyelashes.

When Kathy had arrived at the Potters', she was relieved to find Charlie was out. The last time she'd come on a postnatal visit, he'd been home and had sat in the chair watching her from beneath his brows with a mean expression. This afternoon, little Pansy had opened the door to her and nodded solemnly in answer to Kathy's question about whether she was helping her mum to look after her new little brother.

'Have you named him yet, Mrs Potter?' Kathy asked, laying the boy down so she could unwrap the swaddling layers of threadbare sheeting and examine him. He was wet but, that apart, seemed clean and cared for as he had on her previous visits.

'Might call him Paul ... I like names beginning with P so they go with Potter,' Ruby mumbled.

Kathy smiled, thinking Charlie probably held no such fondness for that theory this time round.

'Have you clean nappies? He needs changing.' Kathy glanced about the messy room.

Without her mother instructing her to do so, Pansy got up and fetched a sc.r.a.p of towelling from a chair back where it had been hanging to air.

Thankfully, it was dry, and Kathy cleaned the child's bottom and powdered it, then fastened the square of cloth around his hips.

'Have you had any help from family?' Kathy asked. She knew that Ruby's own mother had pa.s.sed on as Mrs Mason had brought up the subject on the day the little boy had been born. But Kathy recalled that Ruby had once mentioned her mother-in-law lived in the locality.

'n.o.body's been over,' Ruby said sourly.

Kathy nibbled her lower lip. She guessed people were shunning Ruby because she'd been caught out committing adultery. 'Perhaps in a few months' time, when things settle down,' she said kindly.

'Things ain't gonna settle down, are they?' Ruby laughed bitterly, nodding at the baby. 'Let's face it, he ain't gonna look any different in a week, or a year, is he?'

'And how have you been?' Kathy changed the subject, sticking to routine, although she was feeling frustrated at being unable to help Ruby in her predicament. 'Are you breast-feeding without trouble?'

'Got an abscess, I think,' Ruby muttered. 'It feels hot and painful. I'll bind meself up to stop the milk.'

'Let me see ...' Kathy gently examined the inflamed skin Ruby had exposed. 'There's no need to stop feeding. We can sort that out with-'

'Don't want nuthin'. Gonna put him on the bottle.'

Kathy glanced at the woman's averted face and guessed she was repeating what her husband had told her to say.

'Perhaps you should tell your husband how much formula milk costs,' Kathy said briskly. The mean wretch wouldn't want his wife spending on anything she could get free from her own body.

'Get yer bike back, did yer?' Ruby asked, quickly b.u.t.toning up her blouse.

'Doubt I'll see that again. I came on the bus today. But I hope my boss will sort something out for me.' Kathy had got a ticking-off over losing the vehicle, so she wasn't feeling optimistic about a replacement bike being soon forthcoming from Dr Worth.

'Trouble all round that night, weren't it? And it ain't done yet,' Ruby said gloomily. She glanced at the baby, sleeping soundly. 'Poor little mite don't know what he's in for ...'

CHAPTER EIGHT.

'Still knocking about with that Yid copper, are you?'

Eddie Finch barked the question at his daughter before she'd even got her coat off. He knew that Kathy had been at school with David Goldstein, but since he'd found out from his wife a few months back that they'd become romantically involved, Eddie had taken violently against David.

'I've told you, Dad, we're just good friends,' Kathy answered wearily, shrugging out of her mac. To shut him up constantly harping on over it, Kathy had decided to make out that her relations.h.i.+p with David was platonic. She wished now she'd kept the news to herself when her mother had asked if she'd yet found herself a nice young man to take her out when she got time off from the surgery.

'You make sure it stays "just friends".' Eddie folded the paper he'd pinned beneath his elbows while studying the football results at the parlour table. ''Cos I don't want no rozzers in my family, and I don't want no Jews either.'

'Well, I doubt you'll have any because David's parents aren't any keener on me than you are on him,' Kathy announced, tempted to add that Eddie's chosen career handling stolen goods wouldn't improve their att.i.tude towards her, if ever they or David, for that matter found out about it.

Eddie's jaw dropped and the chair he'd rocked onto its back legs thumped down. It had never occurred to him that his daughter the one he was proud of might be unwelcome anywhere. 'They'd be f.u.c.king lucky to have you!' he snapped, outraged. 'Who'd they think they are? Bleedin' royalty?'

Despite herself, Kathy was touched by her father's champions.h.i.+p, so she gave him a rueful smile. She had often felt like saying something similar to her boyfriend about his bigoted parents. Of course, hers her father especially were equally prejudiced, but still, Kathy felt miffed that Mr and Mrs Goldstein didn't want their son seeing her.

She was also annoyed with David for making out they had split up. He seemed eager to keep on the right side of his wealthy parents, although he insisted he was only resorting to fibs for an easy life. Kathy was equally fed up with the nagging she got, but he was telling a dirty big lie, whereas she was using little white ones to deflect her folks' criticism.

He'd told Kathy he'd stuck to his guns and joined the police force rather than let his father browbeat him into studying accountancy to deal with the family firm's books. In Kathy's eyes, it begged the question why he'd not felt so pa.s.sionately about stopping his mum and dad dictating his love life.

'Give the girl a chance to sit down and have a cup of tea before you start on her, will you?' Winifred Finch glared over her bony shoulder at her husband while putting the kettle on the gas stove. She beckoned Kathy into the kitchen, away from Eddie, who had now gone to mooch about in the front parlour.

Winnie would sooner Kathy settled down with a nice Christian boy so they could get married at the local church. But as long as the fellow her lovely daughter chose treated her right, and had a bit of money and a job, then he was halfway to being acceptable as a future son-in-law as far as Winifred was concerned. Besides, her husband should give praise where it was due instead of finding fault. In Kathy at least they had one child who wasn't an embarra.s.sment but a positive reason to boast.

It got Winnie's goat that the neighbours were constantly tattling at her expense because she'd got two troublesome kids. Kathy's twin had been gone from home for five years yet the nosy cow next door still tried to bring Winnie's wayward daughter into any conversation so she could gloat. Yet Winnie knew for a fact that Cissy d.i.c.kens' son had turned queer in the army.

'Your father's right, though, Kathy,' Winnie muttered beneath her breath so her husband wouldn't know she agreed with anything he said. 'There ain't a family anywhere that's too good for you to fit in it. You remember that.' She gave a crisp nod.

'It's just the religion thing, Mum,' Kathy explained. 'I expect David's people are quite nice on the whole.'

'Yeah ... and so are we,' Winnie announced more vocally.

Kathy raised her eyes heavenwards, wis.h.i.+ng that were true so she could voice an endors.e.m.e.nt.

Winifred was aware of her daughter's wry grimace, and what prompted it. But she held her tongue, wanting to savour this visit from Kathy. She looked forward to seeing her and wished her daughter would come over more often to relieve the monotony of her depressing life. But she accepted Kathy worked long hours in a demanding profession that gave her little free time.

Rich Jews with their own business or not, the Goldsteins wouldn't find a girl to give them lovelier grandkids. Winnie glanced at her daughter's perfect profile: creamy complexion and golden hair. Neither required the artifice of powder or bleach. Kathy was a beauty with a smas.h.i.+ng character; she'd always been one of the nicest, prettiest girls in the neighbourhood, even as a child. Winnie knew that wasn't just her being biased; folk had always commented on Kathy's attractive nature and looks. Her daughter had been raised in an area where hards.h.i.+p sullied people, turning them mean and selfish, yet her Kathy had risen above it to s.h.i.+ne like a jewel. Winnie spontaneously showed her pride and appreciation by giving Kathy a brief peck on the cheek.

'How have you been, Mum?' Kathy quickly enquired at the rare and unexpected show of affection. She repeated her question with more volume as Winifred simply clattered the tea things on the wooden draining board.

'Same as ever,' Winnie muttered eventually. 'Nothing much changes here, love; wish it bleedin' did.' She peered past her daughter into the parlour as her husband, bored with dawdling about, shouted he wasn't having tea, he was off out.

Kathy realised her mother's doleful tone hinted at Tom still causing problems. Her brother was Eddie's favourite, although the boy seemed to be turning into a right tyke. Kathy avoided discussing him in her father's hearing because he wouldn't hear a word against Tom. His affected air of obliviousness to Tom's mischief then set Winifred off. The last time Kathy had come over to Islington on a visit, she'd given up trying to referee her parents' argument and had got up and gone home, leaving them to it.

'Where's Tom?' Kathy asked, sipping tea. The house was too quiet for her young brother to be in his room. When indoors, he would dash down to see her as soon as he heard her arrive.

'Gawd knows.' Winnie shrugged dispiritedly. 'He's probably messing about with those sods in Campbell Road, just to rile me.' Now her husband had vacated the s.p.a.ce, Winnie picked up her cup and saucer and shuffled through into the parlour, sitting down at the small square table. 'Your brother's on the road to ruin, Kathy, same as the other one.' Following that ominous announcement, Winnie cradled her cup between her palms, gazing into the weak brew. 'Your father don't seem willing or capable of doing nuthin' to stop it. Tom don't listen to a word I tell him ... not any more.' She lifted her cup and gulped, rattling it back onto the saucer. 'You know he hasn't done so since all that bad business years ago.' Winnie lifted an edge of her pinny to dab at her glistening eyes.

Kathy knew exactly what her mother meant by 'all that bad business'. She also knew the person her mother blamed for setting in motion the disaster: Jennifer. That's why her sister's name was taboo and she was only ever referred to as 'the other one', if mention were made of her at all. It was as though her twin had ceased to exist.

Jennifer had done wrong, Kathy would be the first to admit that. But what had happened hadn't wholly been her fault. Eddie and Winnie had to take their share of the blame but neither of them seemed to have the courage to lance that particular boil. In Kathy's opinion, until they did the wound in the Finch family would never heal.

'I like your hair shorter.' Winnie sniffed back tears. Fondly, she leaned forward to touch a blonde curl resting on Kathy's cheek as her daughter took the chair opposite at the table.

'Keeps it neater under the cap when it's in a bob,' Kathy said.

'Well ... it looks nice.' Winnie stirred her tea and a silence developed between them.

Kathy took a deep breath, summoning up courage. 'About Jennifer, Mum ...' she blurted out awkwardly.

'We don't mention that name, you know that, miss.' Winnie's startled glance leaped to the door as though she imagined Eddie might have overheard and would burst in, ranting and raving.

Kathy toyed with her spoon. Too many times she'd backed down, not wanting to cause upset. But she'd cleared the first hurdle in mentioning Jennifer. The wistful look in her twin's eyes when she'd seen her a few weeks ago still haunted Kathy. She was sure it was Jennifer's greatest wish to be reconciled with her mother, if not her father. In Kathy's opinion, the savage punishments their father had meted out had driven bad into Jennifer rather than out of her. Kathy knew one of the reasons her sister had run off with Bill Black was to escape her father's fists. But the incentive of a meeting with Winnie might finally motivate Jennifer into making changes in her miserable life.