Authors: Kitty Neale
‘Larry. What brings you back here? I thought you’d gone for good.’
Larry shook his head. ‘Long story, mate. You got a minute? This is your place, isn’t it? You done well for yourself.’
‘Yeah, well, not bad,’ said Tommy, unsure if he wanted the man on his premises or not. The two of them had hung around together when they were schoolboys but it was a time he’d have preferred to forget. They had terrorised some of the local girls and he was now deeply ashamed of what he’d done. Now he was older he could see that it had been cruel and the thought of anyone doing something similar to Grace made him very angry. But maybe Larry had changed, as he himself had.
‘Come on in to the office if you like,’ he said. What harm could a quick cuppa do, he thought. ‘It’s just across there.’ He led the way through the yard, with Larry right behind.
‘Nice place you got here,’ he said admiringly. ‘Good location. Bet it brings in a fair amount of business.’
‘We do OK.’ Tommy switched on the kettle as his old friend sat down on a swivel chair. ‘Milk, sugar? Yes, we’ve been here for a couple of years or so. I was a one-man band for a while, but it’s better with a team. I don’t have to work seven days a week anymore for a start. How about you?’
Larry shook his head and laughed. ‘Bit of this, bit of that. You know. Import, export.’
Tommy leaned back against a filing cabinet and raised his eyebrows. In some circles that could mean anything from selling a few black market cigarettes on a stall to major smuggling and tax evasion. He’d no reason to think Larry was involved in anything criminal and yet the man’s father had been sacked for stealing from his place of work, which was why the family had disappeared from the Battersea area to start with. Larry had always been a chip off the old block and close to his dad. Well, it was none of his business. He didn’t intend to get sucked in to Larry’s schemes and once they’d had their tea he’d wave him goodbye and that would be that.
‘Ever think about the old days, Tommy?’ asked Larry, stretching out his legs and putting his arms behind his head, making himself at home. ‘I missed the old place something rotten for ages when we moved. It’s good to have an excuse to come back. Not that I’ll be back here to live, we’re out in Kent now. Me mum – remember her? – she won’t ever want to breathe in this smoggy air again, she loves it out there. But you can’t live on fresh air so I’m doing a bit of business round here for the time being. We should get together one evening for old times’ sake.’
Tommy smiled noncommittally. ‘Maybe.’
Larry cocked his head. ‘We had some good times back then. Used to enjoy ourselves, didn’t we? Chasing all those girls? Remember flashing them in the park and hearing them scream?’
Tommy looked uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d done.
‘I think now we should have gone further, you know,’ said Larry lazily. ‘Half of them were too scared to know what we were doing, and most would never have told their mums once we’d threatened them properly. We missed a chance if you ask me.’
‘I’m glad we didn’t,’ said Tommy shortly. ‘We were stupid back then, didn’t realise what could have happened.’
‘Exactly my point.’ Larry laughed wolfishly. ‘All those schoolgirls and that big park … what a wasted opportunity. Still, there were two that told on us, weren’t there? Two that got us into trouble. That snooty grammar-school kid, what’s her name … Sandra. That was it. Always thought she was too good for us. Should have taught her a proper lesson while we had the chance. And her friend …’
Tommy had a sinking feeling that he knew what was coming next.
‘… the stupid one. Dumbo, we used to call her. Her mum was friends with ours, weren’t she? Good-looking kid but thick as two short planks. I wonder what happened to her.’
Tommy said nothing.
Larry looked at him. ‘Don’t suppose you know?’
Tommy still said nothing.
‘Ah, that’s it.’ Larry smiled, a calculating expression on his face. ‘You do know. Still round here, is she? Is she still a looker? Filled out, has she? By the looks of you, you know the answer to that one. Is she still stupid?’
Tommy reached across and took his guest’s empty cup. He set it carefully back down on the countertop beside the kettle and old jam jar that held the sugar. Then he walked to the door and opened it.
‘Tommy, Tommy,’ said Larry, swivelling round on the chair. ‘I only just finished me tea. Don’t tell me you want me to go already?’
‘Best you do,’ said Tommy, his voice strained.
‘And why’s that, Tommy?’ teased Larry. ‘Don’t like thinking what I might do to Dumbo if I came across her? It’d be no more than she deserves. And you don’t need to answer my questions. I already know where she is. Peckham, ain’t it.’
Without thinking Tommy reached across and grabbed the man’s shirt front and held him so that the shiny new tie was tight across his throat. Larry struggled, taken by surprise. He was the bigger man but Tommy was lean and strong, and fitter from years of hoisting heavy signs around. He stared at Larry, eyeball to eyeball.
‘You try anything and you’ll be sorry,’ he said with an icily. ‘You lay one hand on Mavis and you’ll wish you hadn’t been born. You get me? You understand? Don’t just splutter, give me a proper answer or you’ll live to regret it.’ He kept on staring into the man’s face.
Larry tried to break free but the tie was too tight and choked him every time he began to turn away. He was sweating and his red nose shone. Tommy noted in disgust that he had greasy pores when you looked up close. So Larry cared about his clothes but not enough to look after himself properly. All style, no substance. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Well, if he was all surface bluster he’d be easy to intimidate. He loosened his hold a little.
‘You understand me?’ Tommy repeated, without dropping his gaze.
Larry gasped noisily for air. ‘Yes, I get you. For God’s sake, Tommy, it were only a bit of banter. It’s not as if I care what Dumbo’s up to or who she’s up to come to that.’
Tommy let go of the man and thrust him away. ‘Don’t calling her Dumbo. Her name is Mavis!’
Larry gained his footing and, as though to regain some dignity, he straightened his tie as he said, ‘Yeah, well, you’re welcome to her.’
‘Door’s that way.’ Tommy didn’t move, but followed the man with his eyes as he attempted to stroll nonchalantly across the yard and out of the gate. When Larry reached the pavement he turned and gave a half-wave. Then he disappeared behind the tall surrounding wall.
Tommy slumped into his desk chair and put his head in his hands. What had come over him? He hadn’t done anything like that for years, not since he was in his teens at least. Part of him was glad he still had the strength to command such a situation – he’d have looked pretty ridiculous if Larry had been able to get away and then had clocked him one. But in another way he was horrified that he’d reacted so immediately and could have lost control at any moment. Was that the sort of man he wanted to be? It usually took a lot to rouse his temper, and he had thought he’d mastered it, but when it came to Mavis it was a different matter. He’d seen red and would have gone to any lengths to defend her.
Still, he guessed that in one way it had worked – Larry would be unlikely to try anything with Mavis now. It was then that Tommy remembered the broken-down van and his intention of ringing the mechanic as soon as he got back to the office. Damn it, Larry’s visit hadn’t only made him lose his temper, he’d wasted all that time and now he might lose a day’s work if it couldn’t be repaired. Forcing himself to breathe more slowly, Tommy reached for the phone.
Rhona hadn’t told Penny about her next date with Gary because she didn’t want to make her friend jealous – or not more than she was already. When they’d agreed to go to the Talisman at the weekend Rhona had already known that she’d be seeing Gary in the middle of the week, but she didn’t want company this time. Tonight was just for the pair of them.
Normally Rhona wouldn’t worry too much about a date. She liked to get ready and dress up but knew she was attractive and didn’t waste time wondering if she looked good enough. She knew she did. She was well aware that the men she dated went out with her based solely on her appearance and played the same game. First and foremost they had to look good, and she liked it if they could take her to the sort of places she loved best – clubs or pop concerts. She liked her boyfriends to be fun. She was after a good time and assumed that’s what they were after too. Serious questions like personality and reliability didn’t come into it. But with Gary, she found herself wondering. Something about him made her take more notice of what he said than she usually would, and he intrigued her.
Rhona put on her false eyelashes and plucked her eyebrows with extra care that evening, spending ages in front of the mirror checking they were even and dark enough without being too heavy. She wished the lighting in her bedroom was better, but there was only the dull light bulb inside the battered shade that had been there for as long as she could remember. Just before leaving she checked her diary, ticked the date and reached into her bedside cabinet. This was where she kept her precious stash of the Pill. She was meticulous about taking it, even though she knew of plenty of girls who only did so when they remembered. Rhona had no intention of leaving such things to chance. She knew what everyone thought of her – that she was irresponsible, to put it kindly – but she backed up her love of a good time with stringent precautions. She wasn’t going to get pregnant.
She couldn’t repress a little shiver of anticipation at the thought of Gary waiting for her at Oxford Circus tube. They’d be in the heart of the action and they’d draw everyone’s attention, she just knew it. She wondered what he’d be wearing. She pulled on her highest patent boots and zipped them up, careful not to snag her nylons. Her mother always went on about how hard they’d been to come by during the war, but as Rhona had never had any trouble getting any she didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.
Tying the belt on her new mac tightly at her waist, she grabbed her bag and ran downstairs.
‘What time are you gonna be back?’ called her mother from the kitchen.
‘Not sure. Don’t wait up,’ Rhona shouted as she ran out of the front door.
Nearly an hour later, Rhona was getting cold as she stood at the exit to the tube. She knew there were lots of ways out of this particular station but she thought they’d been clear when they’d made their arrangement: the exit closest to Liberty’s. Rhona had never been into the grand old shop but she knew where it was and liked to gaze into its windows – not that she’d have been seen dead in any of the fabrics they displayed. ‘Maybe when I’m thirty,’ she muttered. Where was Gary? Surely he hadn’t stood her up? He’d seemed so keen on Sunday. After Kenneth’s poor performance nearly a week ago, she was beginning to wonder if her luck had turned and she’d lost her touch.
‘Hiya, beautiful.’ There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned around and there he was.
‘Gary!’ She hoped she didn’t sound too eager. Men didn’t like girls who were desperate. She grinned and made her voice casual. ‘Thought you might’ve had second thoughts.’
He pulled back and made a face. ‘With you waiting for me? Never. No, I admit I did set off a bit late ’cos I’d had to go round to my old mate Jeff’s place, but then there was some problem on the Camden Road and all the traffic was backed up. I got the bus, I’ll know better next time. Jeff’s a great bloke but not worth me missing a date with you.’
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. Rhona could smell his aftershave, warm and spicy, and the smell of his body mixed with it – he must have hurried to get here, knowing he was running late. Good, he was still keen.
‘Fancy a drink somewhere?’ he asked. ‘I know a quiet pub round here then we can go on and catch some music in that basement bar I told you about.’
‘Sounds fab,’ said Rhona, wanting to undo the top button of her mac as it looked better in a deep V shape but she was too cold. ‘I could do with something warm.’ She giggled.
Gary steered her down the side of Liberty’s and into a back street, where in the orange glow of a streetlight she could see a pub sign swinging in the chilly wind. It was an old-fashioned place with leaded windows and deep green paintwork outside. As he held the door open there was a low buzz of conversation from the small crowd inside. Even though it was a weekday evening the place was far from empty. Gary elbowed his way through to a vacant table and they sat on raised stools.
‘Here, I’ll just take my jacket off and then go to the bar. Babycham again?’ he guessed.
‘I’ll have a rum and blackcurrant,’ Rhona said. ‘That’s what the Beatles like, I heard it on the radio.’
‘Wow, OK,’ Gary whistled. ‘I’ll stick to the bitter if it’s all the same with you. Back in a mo.’
Rhona leaned back cautiously and lit a cigarette, wondering if she would actually like the new drink. She’d have to pretend she did whatever happened. If the Beatles had it then she’d do her best to enjoy it, as it would mark her out as somebody in the know. She wondered what the Stones drank. Kenneth could have told her, but she wasn’t talking to him.
Gary came back bearing his pint and a small glass for her and she thought again how like Brian Jones he looked. She smiled involuntarily. ‘Cheers,’ she said, raising the glass and sipping. That wasn’t too bad. Oh, no. Wait a minute. It had an aftertaste she wasn’t at all keen on. She managed not to pull a face and resolved to get used to it. She couldn’t go round having Babycham all the time, everyone drank that.
‘So shall I put something on the jukebox?’ Gary suggested. They could hear it playing above the murmur of conversations around them. ‘How about something by the Beatles if you’ve started ordering their favourite tipple?’
Rhona laughed. ‘It doesn’t mean that I like their music the best. I don’t mind it but there’s other stuff I prefer. Like the Stones. They’re … I don’t know, wilder.’
‘Oh, you like wild things?’ Gary gave her a sideways look. ‘I might have known it. I could have predicted that from the first moment I saw you.’