Trickster

by Sam Michaels

  ‘Everything’s fine, Dad. Gran is like a cat on a hot tin roof. She’s been up since the crack of dawn, baking as usual.’

  ‘Ha, sounds about normal. Have you coped all right without me?’

  ‘Yeah, no problems. Ezzy had me doing the Manchester runs, and I’ve been lifting a few bits here and there to keep the cupboards full. Oppo’s been helping out where he can.’

  ‘Well done, I’m proud of you. It couldn’t have been easy. You were just a kid when I went down, but look at you now, all grown up! You’ll be voting soon!’

  ‘Dad, I’m seventeen, not twenty-one!’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re more grown up than most youngsters of your age. Cor, it’s good to be out of there. I tried getting hold of Norman to get him to look out for you, but I heard he’s copped it and Billy is running the show.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, and did you hear it was Billy that did him in?’

  ‘It was rumoured, but I didn’t believe it. Is it true then?’

  ‘Yep, when it happened, Hefty told me. I’ve stayed out of Billy’s way, and Hefty did a runner out to Hampshire.’

  ‘Fucking hell, who’d have thought it, eh! Oops, sorry about my language. It’s that place – it gets under your skin.’

  George wasn’t bothered about her father’s bad language. She often used worse herself, though never in front of her gran.

  ‘You do understand why I didn’t want you coming up here to see me?’ her dad asked, his face showing concern.

  ‘Of course. If I had a kid, I wouldn’t want them seeing me locked up in a place like that either. Was it really bad?’

  ‘It was all right, but I wouldn’t want to go back. Anyway, enough about that. What’s all this talk about kids? I hope you ain’t got yourself a fella?’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’

  ‘Good,’ said Jack, ‘’cos if you had, I’d want to check him out first to make sure he’s up to scratch and all that.’

  He was feigning seriousness, but George could tell her father was mucking about. ‘Dad, the last thing I want is a husband telling me what to do.’

  Her father chortled, but George noticed his jovial mood suddenly change, and his pace slowed. He rubbed his back, grimacing in obvious discomfort.

  ‘What’s wrong, Dad?’

  ‘Nothing. Just me old kidneys giving me a bit of gyp.’

  George was worried, and asked, ‘Your kidneys… why are your kidneys playing up?’

  ‘They’ve been punched a few too many times, that’s all. It was my own stupid fault. I forgot I ain’t a young man any more and had a go at taking on a couple of geezers a lot fitter and harder than me. That’ll teach me. I should have just kept me head down and done me time. Still, what’s done is done. Don’t mention it to your gran though.’

  George nodded, then pointed to a red double decker heading down the street towards them. ‘We should jump on this bus. I don’t think you’re up to walking home.’

  ‘Leave it out. That ain’t a General – that’s one of them pirate buses. They’re a right bleedin’ rip-off and will probably charge us twice the normal fare.’

  George had never heard her dad complain before about the unauthorised bus services that operated independently outside of the London General Omnibus Company. If anything, he’d always bigged up the pirates, saying a bit of initiative and free enterprise was good. Then it dawned on her that he was embarrassed about not having the money to pay for the ride.

  ‘Twice the price or not, we’re getting on this bus. Ezzy gave me a bit extra. He said it was a welcome home present for you. By the way, he’s expecting you back at work next week.’

  George stuck her arm out on the side of the road to indicate to the bus driver to stop. She could see her dad was looking tired, and that he was trying to hide his pain. If his kidneys had taken a hiding, she thought he probably had a few cracked ribs too.

  Once seated, he smiled again. ‘There’s no getting nothing past you,’ he said.

  ‘No, Dad, I’ve been taught by the best,’ George said affectionately.

  ‘By the way, there’s been something I’ve been dying to ask you,’ Jack said, then lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘That weekend when the Old Bill had me. Did you have anything to do with the police station being blown up?’

  There wasn’t a day that passed when George didn’t recall the dead copper’s face on the front page of the newspaper. The murder of the policemen had pleased her, and still thrilled her now. The only thing that had marred her pleasure was seeing how worried Molly was. The girl was terrified that she’d be implicated in the bombing but thankfully no suspicion had fallen on her. They had both got off scot-free. Now though, the mention of it from her dad caused one side of her mouth to upturn in a half-smirk.

  ‘I knew it! I knew it was you! Soon as I heard about the donkey jacket, I thought to meself, who else but you would have the balls to carry that out.’

  ‘Shush, Dad,’ George said, looking round to see if there were any earwiggers.

  ‘How did you do it?’ Jack asked quietly.

  ‘I’ll tell you when we get home. I won’t say nothing to my gran about your injuries, and you don’t mention this in front of her.’

  It was odd for George, but she realised how much she’d matured, and now here she was, telling her father what to do. She was no longer the awkward little girl who behaved and looked like a boy. She’d grown into an assured adult. Her masculine appearance still caused confusion, but she was now a young woman. She inwardly chuckled to herself. She could never refer to herself as a lady, but one thing she was sure of: she’d never allow the likes of a mere man to rule over her, or her household.

  *

  There wasn’t much that went on in Battersea that Billy didn’t know about, and today he was fully aware that Jack Garrett was being released from Wandsworth prison. Not that it bothered him. Jack wasn’t a threat. In fact, Billy had never had any veneration for him. He thought Jack was an arse-licker. After all, what sort of bloke would become best buddies with a man who had taken out his eye? Jack Garrett had done just that with Norman.

  It had been fortunate timing that Garrett had been arrested the day after Billy had gotten rid of his father. The quiet, threatening word he’d had with Inspector Hendricks had worked. It had killed two birds with one stone. At the time, the Vauxhall mob had been headed up by Archie Warner, but after his retirement, the gang had disbanded. Billy had heard that Archie’s son, Wayne, had been doing ten years in Pentonville, but he was due out soon and there was talk of him reforming the mob.

  Wayne’s turf neighboured Battersea, and Billy didn’t want anyone stepping over into his patch. Stitching up the Vauxhall mob with the Battersea Power Station robbery had removed the threat to Billy, and ensured Jack wasn’t around to ask any awkward questions about Norman.

  It was such a shame that Inspector Hendricks had been killed in the bombing. Billy had never got to the bottom of who was responsible, but he had his suspicions. It had pissed him off though, as Hendricks had been useful to him, readily accepting bribes. Now Billy had another policeman on side, but he wasn’t as highly ranked as Hendricks and didn’t have as much clout. Still, Billy would bide his time. Cunningham, the bent copper, was only a constable for now, but he had a promising career in front of him and Billy would be there every step of the way.

  It had been a screw on the inside at Wandsworth who’d reported to Billy that he’d persuaded a couple of new inmates to give Jack a beating. It had only taken the cost of a few smokes and a promise of a handshake to the inmates’ wives. Billy had no need nor desire to waste his time ridding the world of Jack, but he hoped a few broken bones would stop the man from sniffing around. If it didn’t, Billy would remind him of the reason he was battered, and if he didn’t keep his nose out, a worse pasting would follow.

  *

  Molly sat comfortably on a small wooden footstool behind a bucket of chrysanthemums and was tucking into an egg sandwich. ‘This is nice, Mum. It’s not of
ten we get the chance to have a natter without Ethel butting in,’ she said with her mouth full.

  ‘Yes, it is nice, but what have I told you about talking with food in your mouth? Urgh, it turns my stomach, it really does. And it’s not very ladylike.’

  Molly didn’t mind being chastised by her mother. Fanny had always said that they didn’t have much, but they did have manners, and good manners cost nothing. It was a shame that her father never thought the same. She swallowed her food, then said, ‘George’s dad gets out today.’

  ‘Yes, I heard. I bet George is pleased. Mind you, that girl has done well to keep a roof over her and Dulcie’s heads, not that I condone how she did it.’

  ‘Oh, Mum, stop being so righteous! I’ve known you not to put all your takings through the books. I reckon Mrs Wilcox would have a thing or two to say about that, if she knew.’

  ‘Shut up, Molly, you’ll have me shot! But point taken, and I do feel terrible about it. After all, Jane has been good to me. If it wasn’t for your father… well.’

  Molly had only been teasing her mother, but it had hit a raw nerve. Her dad still helped himself to all her mother’s earnings, and a good part of hers too. She’d have left home if it wasn’t for Ethel and Charlotte, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave them behind. It was a miserable situation, and so unfair, but neither she, nor her mother, had the guts to confront him. Instead, they chose not to discuss it.

  Obviously changing the subject, Fanny said, ‘Talking of Jane, she doesn’t seem herself lately.’

  ‘Oh, what makes you think that?’ Molly asked, not that she cared. She’d have preferred to keep the Wilcox family a good arm’s length away and didn’t feel comfortable with her mother working on Jane’s stall.

  ‘Last week when I saw her, she was, I dunno, on edge. It’s like she’s living on her nerves.’

  ‘I’m not surprised!’ Molly spluttered. ‘It’s no secret that Billy killed his father. She’s probably worried that she’s next.’

  ‘Really? Do you think she’s heard?’

  ‘Without a doubt. Though I don’t know who would have been foolish enough to tell her.’

  ‘Well, I hope for the sake of the person who opened their gob, Billy doesn’t find out. Look, here comes Ethel. Ah, don’t she look a treat in that new jacket George got her.’

  Molly watched her big sister coming towards them, wearing a broad smile and full of the joys of spring. George was by her side and looked equally happy.

  ‘Hello, Ethel. Was you a good girl today for Dulcie?’ Fanny asked.

  ‘Yes, I was, wasn’t I, George? I made Dulcie two cups of tea, and I washed up. She said I’m a clever girl.’

  ‘You are, Ethel,’ George said, ‘and this is for you, but I’m going to give it to your mum to look after.’

  George handed Fanny two farthings and said, ‘Thanks, Mrs Mipple. It puts my mind at ease to know that Ethel is with my gran when I’m out. She’s not as steady on her legs nowadays, and I worry about her. The silly old woman thinks she’s doing us a favour by watching Ethel. She’d have my guts for garters if she knew it was the other way round!’

  Fanny chuckled. ‘Ethel may be a bit backward, but she’s capable of keeping an eye on your gran. You can ask her to anytime, George, and you know you don’t have to pay us, though I won’t deny the extra comes in handy. How’s your dad? You must be over the moon,’ she said, squirreling the coins away in her handkerchief.

  Molly thought her mother could be quite astute at times. Her father had no idea that Ethel often sat with Dulcie, and the few coins she earned went towards feeding Charlotte. It was their secret, and even Ethel understood to keep it quiet.

  ‘Yeah, my dad’s pleased to be home. I’ve got to dash ’cos I want to get back to him. We’ve got three years to catch up on. Molly, do you want to walk back with me?’

  Molly jumped from the stool. ‘Yes, I will. See ya later, Mum,’ she said. Her lunch break had passed quickly, but at least she had George’s protection back to the factory.

  Once out of earshot of her mother, Molly asked, ‘Did your dad question you about… you know?’

  ‘Yeah, but he’d already guessed it was me. You should have seen the look on his face – he was dead happy.’

  ‘You’re blinkin’ mad, you lot, but I don’t mind admitting that I’m jealous about you having such a lovely family.’

  ‘You’ve got a smashing family too, Molly. It’s only your dad who’s an arsehole.’

  ‘Yeah, and talking of which, I saw Billy Wilcox earlier. He drove past and threw his fag but out the window at me. He stopped his car and told me to pick it up. He said it was his street and he wanted it kept clean.’

  ‘I hope you told him to piss off?’

  ‘I wanted to but I ain’t as brave as you.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you picked it up?’

  ‘Yes, I didn’t want any trouble; then he told me I was making his street look dirty and made me walk in the road in front of his car. I was scared stiff, George, so I did, but then he speeded his car up and I had to run for me life! I saw him laughing as he drove off. I was in a right state by the time I got to work, but don’t tell me mum.’

  ‘I’ve had about enough of him. I should have done him in years ago,’ George hissed.

  ‘I wish you had, but I’m glad you didn’t. I’d hate to think of you going down for an arsehole like him,’ Molly said, and recoiled at the thought of anything happening to her friend. She loved George dearly, but she was a risk taker and had caused Molly many nights of sleepless concern.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Molly. I’ve waited all this time to get my hands on Billy Wilcox, and I won’t be doing anything soon. My dad’s home, that’s all that matters for now.’

  Molly sighed with relief. When she’d seen the angry look on George’s face, she’d regretted telling her what Billy had done. She knew her friend was capable of ridding Battersea of Billy, but that was one risk Molly would prefer George to avoid.

  *

  Hilda sashayed across Billy’s office and ran her fingers seductively over the impressive pieces of furniture. Billy was watching her every move and she was sure she’d seen a glimmer of lust. Being his assistant made her feel special, and now she was aiming to be his lover too. He’d said he’d consider making her his assistant three years ago, and now he’d finally given her the role.

  ‘I think I’m going to enjoy working here, Mr Wilcox. I like how my desk looks over to yours,’ she purred, and lightly hopped onto the front of it before slowly crossing her legs. She reached down to her slender ankles, then slowly stroked her leg until her hands to came rest on her knee. She kept her eyes locked with Billy’s, and deliberately licked her full lips. ‘Are there any special perks that come with the job?’

  Billy sauntered towards her, but she was disappointed to see his eyes were cold and empty. ‘Oh, yes, Hilda, I can see there’s going to be many perks… for me.’

  Hilda smiled. She was going to get what she wanted and began to unbutton her purple silk blouse. She started at the neck but when she reached the buttons on her chest, Billy stopped her. ‘Would you like me to dance for you, Mr Wilcox?’ she asked and eased herself from the desk.

  ‘No, whores dance, and that’s no longer your job.’

  Hilda slowly crouched down until she was face height with Billy’s groin. ‘What would you like me to do for you then?’ she asked huskily and ran her tongue over Billy’s trousers, hoping to find his manhood bulging. It wasn’t, but she was confident it soon would be.

  ‘I’ll tell you what I’d like you to do for me,’ Billy answered and crudely yanked her back up by pulling the hair on top of her head.

  Hilda stifled a yelp. She’d had customers who liked to rough her up a bit and she realised Billy must have those tastes too.

  ‘Take off your underwear, lift your skirt and bend over your desk,’ he ordered.

  At last, she’d seduced him and now he was going to take her from behind. He’d probably slap her
bum. Hilda didn’t mind that, though many of her customers thought it was kinky. As she removed her knickers, she smiled wryly to herself. As far as she knew, none of Billy’s tarts had ever got this far with him. This was proof she was different. He liked her, and she planned to do all she could to make him fall in love with her.

  Now in position, Hilda reached for her clitoris and vigorously rubbed it. She wanted to make Billy feel welcome and ensure she was wet for him.

  ‘Did I tell you to touch yourself?’

  Billy’s voice sounded gruff, so she quickly placed her hand on the desk. ‘No, Billy, you didn’t.’

  ‘Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?’

  ‘Sorry, no, Mr Wilcox.’

  ‘Just remember your place. Perhaps this will help.’

  Hilda couldn’t see what Billy was doing behind her, but she suddenly heard a loud crack and felt a tremendous sting on her bottom as she realised he’d thrashed her with his belt. She bit her lip to stop from crying out, then another agonising lash whipped across her skin.

  ‘Does that hurt?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Wilcox.’

  ‘Do you want more?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes please, Mr Wilcox,’ Hilda lied, but in her experience, if she pretended to enjoy the pain, it would normally bring her man to a climax.

  ‘Is that right, you want more? I’ll soon have you begging for me to stop,’ Billy growled and began to furiously whip her.

  The pain was too intense, and Hilda could feel her skin splitting and bleeding. This wasn’t what she’d expected, and cried out, ‘No more, please, Mr Wilcox, no more.’ Tears smudged her dark mascara as she whimpered in distress.

  ‘What did you say?’ Billy asked breathlessly as he lashed her again.

  ‘I said no more, please stop,’ she begged, scared.

  ‘Turn around,’ Billy ordered.

  Hilda slowly stood up straight, wincing in agony. Her body trembled and just the material of her skirt falling over her beaten buttocks caused her to catch her breath.

  Billy had perspiration running from his temples and down his flushed cheeks. His shoulders heaved up and down as he drew in deep breaths. ‘Get on your knees,’ he ordered.