Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle
Page 73
The penny dropped and Pearl felt awful. She knew how hard things were for Lucy, but in the light of all that had happened she hadn’t given her a thought. ‘How much did Bessie owe you?’
‘Ten quid and without it I don’t know how I’m gonna pay my rent. I fobbed the landlord off last week with half, but I don’t think he’ll stand for it again.’
Pearl took her purse out of her bag, thankful to see that she had enough as she pulled out two five-pound notes. ‘Here,’ she said, holding them out.
Lucy shook her head vigorously. ‘No, no, Pearl, I can’t take your money.’
‘Yes you can,’ Pearl said as she stuffed the notes into Lucy’s hand. ‘Bessie has left me her shop, in fact the whole premises. I’m so sorry, I should have realised that you hadn’t been paid.’
‘That’s all right. I’m just relieved to get my wages.’
‘Pearl, it’s time we made our way to the Nag’s Head,’ Derek said as he came to their side. ‘Will you be joining us, Lucy?’
‘No, I’m afraid not, but Pearl, will you be opening the shop any time soon? If you are, and there’s a job going, will you keep me in mind?’
‘Yes, of course I will, but we can’t do anything until probate has been granted. As soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thanks, Pearl. I’ll just have a quick word with Nora before I leave.’
Pearl had no idea how long it would be before she could open the shop, but as she watched Nora flinging her arms around Lucy, an idea began to form. One that as she thought about it, became more and more compelling.
John found that nothing about Battersea attracted him as he sat in the pub next to Derek, drinking a glass of lemonade. This was where he’d been born, yet he felt nothing but a desire to go back to Winchester.
‘Are you all right, son?’
John nodded and as he looked at Derek he wished he was his real father instead of Kevin Dolby. He hated that he’d been lied to, told that his real father had been sent to prison for robbery, when it had been so much more than that. He hated looking in the mirror now too, seeing a face that was almost identical to the one he’d seen in his gran’s photograph album. ‘Dad, can I ask you something?’
‘Of course you can.’
‘I know I look like him – Kevin – and we’ve got the same blood too. Does … does that mean that I’m capable of doing the things he did … terrible things?’
‘Other than looking a bit like him, believe me, you’re cut from a totally different cloth. You’re more like your mother, with a little of your Gran Emily thrown into the mix.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘John, I’ve known you since you were a baby and I’ve watched you grow up. You haven’t got a bad bone in your body and though I’m only your stepfather, I’m proud of you, son.’
John felt a well of emotions and if he hadn’t been nearly a teenager, he’d have reached out to grasp Derek’s hand. Instead he fought to choke back his feelings, his voice sounding gruff to his ears as he said, ‘Thanks, Dad, but there’s something else. I don’t want to see him. I never want to see him and I’m not going to Southsea again. He might turn up there.’
‘That’s going to upset Dolly and Bernie,’ Derek pointed out.
‘I know, and I’m sorry about that,’ John said, then blurted out, ‘I wish we could stay in Winchester.’
‘I know you do, son, but there really isn’t room for all of us in your gran’s house. Don’t worry though, she’ll have my guts for garters if I don’t drive you down there every weekend.’
‘I suppose you’re looking forward to moving back here.’
‘I can’t deny that. This is my home turf and the boxing club I used to manage isn’t far from here,’ Derek said with a hint of pride in his voice. ‘I know it’s nothing like Winchester, but it isn’t so bad. It’s not all built up, you know. There are lots of open spaces, walks by the Thames, and Battersea Park is close by, with a boating lake and lots of other things to explore. It’s also just a hop to Wimbledon Common. When I was a nipper we used to fish in the ponds, though I mostly netted newts. I used to bring them home in a jam jar, but my gran used to go potty and wouldn’t let me keep them. Blimey,’ he mused, ‘those were the days.’
John didn’t think a park or common could compete with living in the country, but at least it was something. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, and at least Derek was going to take him home every weekend. John knew that Winchester would always be that to him – home. And when he was grown up, he’d go back there permanently.
John sipped his lemonade again, finding a measure of comfort in that thought.
That night, unable to get Adrianna out of his mind, Kevin was getting ready to go out. From the way she’d reacted when he tried to talk to her, he suspected that Adrianna was terrified of Vince, and that meant she might want to get away from him.
As he looked in the mirror, Kevin turned this way and that. He was pleased with his appearance, but now he’d bought new togs the money his father had given him was disappearing fast. Still, he thought, there was always Rupert.
Kevin had told his mother that he and Rupert were like-minded, inferred a religious connection, but that was far from the truth. Rupert had in fact been Kevin’s cellmate, an old poof who was inside for having sex with a fifteen-year-old boy.
Of course Rupert protested that he was innocent, that the boy had told him he was older, and that like others before him he was just after his money. It was a comment that had piqued Kevin’s interest. He decided that if his mother didn’t cough up some dosh when he got out, it would be handy to add another string to his bow until he was able to carry out his plan.
Unlike most of the other inmates, Kevin had found that when he was desperate with frustration, any port in a storm was better than nothing. Of course he preferred women, but some of the pretty, effeminate types of men that passed through had been passable substitutes.
Kevin couldn’t call Rupert pretty, or effeminate, but he’d managed to perform and soon the soppy, soft old sod was blabbing about his inherited wealth, begging him to move into his home when he got out. Rupert had also thought Kevin’s religious act was hilarious, but he’d helped him to tweak the role, something that proved invaluable in getting his parole.
What he hadn’t bargained for was Rupert’s sulks when he hadn’t gone straight to Ealing when he got out, but he’d managed to placate him. The problem was that Rupert had been fleeced so many times in the past that he was distrustful and wary, his purse firmly shut, but it was time to change that, Kevin decided as he went downstairs. He had always got what he wanted from his mother, and he’d do the same with Rupert. It was just a matter of knowing how to handle him.
As he walked into the drawing room, Kevin asked, ‘How do I look?’
‘Gorgeous, darling,’ Rupert said, licking his lips. ‘I don’t know why you won’t let me come out with you tonight.’
‘I told you, it isn’t a social outing,’ Kevin lied, thinking that the last thing he wanted was to be seen with such an obvious poof. ‘I’m meeting an old friend who may be able to offer me a job.’
‘Is this a male friend?’ Rupert asked sulkily.
‘Yes, but don’t worry, if I’m late home I’ll try not to wake you. In fact, if this job comes up I’ll be able to find my own place.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Rupert said quickly. ‘I don’t want you to do that. You can stay here as long as you like.’
‘It’s good of you to offer, but I’ll only stay if I get this job. If I don’t get it and can’t pay my own way, I’ll move back in with my parents.’
‘But—’
‘Right, I’m off. I’ll see you later,’ Kevin interrupted as he walked out, leaving Rupert to stew on his words, sure that they’d have the desired effect …
Chapter Twelve
Adrianna had finished her act and was now taking off the heavy stage make-up before redoing her eyes with a lighter touch. Vince would be here in half an ho
ur to pick her up and she didn’t want to keep him waiting. He’d get annoyed if she did. Adrianna remembered the slap he’d given her just for talking to a bloke outside the club who’d asked for directions, and shivered. Her father had been a violent man too, and her childhood an unhappy one. She had been dragged from borough to borough as her parents dodged one rent man after another. Or sometimes it had been the police – her father preferred petty thieving to an honest day’s work.
‘If I had your looks,’ said Lola, one of the other strippers, as she stroked Adrianna’s fur coat, ‘I’d get myself a sugar daddy too.’
‘If you’re talking about the boss, you’re welcome to him.’
‘Is that right? Well, maybe I should tell him you said that.’
‘I’d deny it, and if you think he’ll believe you, over me, then go ahead,’ Adrianna said with a show of bravado. ‘He’ll be here soon to pick me up.’
‘If I wasn’t due on stage I would,’ Lola spat before quickly leaving the poky dressing room.
Adrianna knew from Lola’s hasty departure that it was an idle threat and got on with removing her make-up, thinking that she had to learn to keep her mouth shut. She knew the other girls thought she had it made, that Vince gave her everything, such as the fur coat, but little did they know that she longed for him to find someone else – another girl to take her place.
Adrianna knew she wasn’t anything like the confident, haughty stripper who performed on stage. She was far from being in control: instead Vince controlled her and she was too afraid of him to break away.
Her mind shied away from Vince and drifted back to her childhood. Her parents had moved so many times, and she had been to so many different schools, that friendships had been hard to form, let alone sustain. She had been an only child, a lonely child, one who lived inside her head with dreams of one day becoming a dancer. Adrianna could remember to this day where that dream had come from, but not the place. It had been one of the many boroughs they had lived in, their flat cramped, but it had been close to a school of dance.
Like a magnet she had been drawn to the sound of a piano playing and had sneaked inside to peep round the door that led into a hall. A class was in progress, or perhaps some sort of rehearsal, young girls dressed in white tutu skirts and ballet pumps. Adrianna smiled. To her it had looked magical as they danced in a circle, their arms raised in pretty arches. The circle then opened to reveal another girl who appeared so delicate, almost ethereal as she performed a series of pirouettes and arabesques.
Adrianna could recall being so enthralled that she had hurried home and begged to go to the school of dance, but that night they had crept out of the flat in the early hours, dodging the rent and yet another landlord.
With a sigh, Adrianna now applied her lipstick. Becoming a dancer had been an impossible dream, and by the age of fourteen all she had longed for was the chance to get away from the life her parents led. Her chance had come when she was fifteen. She had seen a live-in job advertised and she’d been taken on, but by the time she was sixteen she hated being a skivvy. It was then that the offer of a job in a shop with a room above it had come up and she had jumped at the chance.
Once again her thoughts were interrupted when one of the hostesses walked in, a note in her hand. ‘One of the blokes out front asked me to give you this.’
Without reading it, Adrianna screwed the note into a ball and threw it into the bin. ‘You know I don’t mix with the punters.’
‘I told him that, but he offered me a good few bob to give that to you and I wasn’t about to turn it down.’
‘More fool him.’
‘Yeah, there’s a mug born every minute, but I’d best get back out front.’
Adrianna’s smile was tight. It was still impossible to form friendships, Vince kept her too close to him for that, but even if she had the opportunity she knew that other women were jealous of her looks. The other girls in the club were proof of that and as Adrianna looked at her reflection in the mirror, she wished that she had never met the woman who had tempted her into becoming what she had called an exotic dancer. She’d been Ruth Canning then, a name she refused to use now and nearly nineteen years old. She’d been hard up, sick of working in shops or factories and it was the magical word dancing that had drawn her in.
It hadn’t been easy, but she’d managed to pay the woman for lessons. She’d learned the craft and learned it well, but it was a craft she now hated. It wasn’t because of the leering punters. She’d grown used to them and could blank them out. She hated being an exotic dancer, a stripper, because it had eventually brought her to the attention of Vincent Chase.
Ready to leave now, Adrianna flung her fur coat around her shoulders, thinking that just as she had longed to get away from her parents, she was now desperate to get away from Vince. Of course any chance of achieving that seemed impossible – another impossible dream.
After being inside for so long without sight of a beautiful woman, Kevin had began to wonder if he’d exaggerated Adrianna’s attractions in his mind. He hadn’t, and once again he’d been riveted by her performance. Sultry, sexy, cat-like, he relished the thought of taming her. However, paying a hostess to take her a note had been a waste of time. What he needed was a chance to be alone with Adrianna, a chance to turn on the charm, and with any luck when she left the club this time, Vince wouldn’t be around to pick her up.
Kevin swallowed the last of his drink and walked outside. Cars were parked along the road, but none of them looked occupied, the coast clear as he hung around.
Just fifteen minutes later Kevin’s patience was rewarded when Adrianna left by the side exit. Stepping forward with a smile on his face, he said, ‘Hello there, remember me?’
Kevin was only aware of her eyes rounding in panic before arms locked around him from behind. He struggled, but found himself spun around to face a man moving out of the shadows, his face contorted with anger.
‘Get back inside,’ Vince yelled at Adrianna. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’
Another of Vince’s heavies moved to the kerb, beckoned, and as a car pulled up, Vince climbed in the back, the heavy in the front. Kevin was then shoved from behind, forced inside to find himself trapped between Vince and the mountain of a bloke who’d held him.
‘Drive!’ Vince ordered.
Kevin thought quickly. ‘What’s going on, Vince? We go back a long way so why have you snatched me?’
Vince’s head snapped round, his hard, gimlet eyes studying Kevin for a moment before he said, ‘Nah, I don’t know you.’
‘Yes, you do, Vince, though I must admit you didn’t see me very often. Before I went inside I used to knock around with a couple of blokes and we fenced the stuff we nicked through you. My name is Kevin – Kevin Dolby.’
There was silence for a moment as Vince pursed his lips, but then he nodded. ‘Dolby, yeah, that name rings a distant bell. Are you the bloke who beat the shit out of a jeweller?’
‘Yes, that’s me. I’ve just got out after doing thirteen years.’
‘So what are you doing sniffing around my bird?’
‘If you mean that stripper who was leaving the club, sorry, mate, I’ve only just got out of the nick and I didn’t know she was your property.’
The blow to Kevin’s stomach was swift and unexpected, leaving him doubled over in agony as Vince growled, ‘Don’t take me for a mug. You’re the bloke who was hanging around last week. You saw Adrianna get into my car and you clocked me when you had nerve to stick your head inside me motor.’
‘Vince … mate …’
Kevin’s apology was cut off. ‘I ain’t your mate!’ Vince snarled. ‘If I was you’d know that I’m a reasonable man who’s prepared to overlook a genuine mistake. Yours wasn’t. You knew she was my property all right, and you should have kept away, but instead you turned up again tonight.’
‘I wasn’t there to chat her up. We just happened to be leaving the club at the same time, and I just said hello, that’s all.’
‘But …’
‘Shut up! Stan, Bert, we’re going to pull up here and then he’s all yours.’
When the car drew into the kerb, Kevin was yanked out. He tried to fight back, but up against two giant thugs he didn’t stand a chance as they laid into him with fists, and when he hit the floor, their boots.
Pain shot through him with each kick, agonising pain, but finally when Vince called them they backed off, like dogs obeying their master. With one final kick each they returned to the car, leaving Kevin bruised, bloodied, and barely conscious as it sped away.
Kevin didn’t know how long he lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, and he had only vague memories of someone coming to his aid. The man helped him up and was good enough to drive him home when he refused to go to hospital.
The time had passed in a blur, though Kevin had flashes of memory: Rupert crying, being tended to by skilled hands, but only finding out days later that it had been Rupert’s private doctor.
With broken ribs, his body in agony, and his face a swollen mass of cuts and bruises, it was Rupert who looked after him – Rupert who over the next few weeks nursed Kevin back to health.
Chapter Thirteen
It was Saturday morning, a special one in May, and as probate had been granted earlier than expected Pearl, Derek, John and Nora were moving to Battersea the next day.
To Pearl’s relief, Kevin hadn’t been in touch and John had become a little more communicative.
‘Happy birthday, darling,’ she said as he walked into the kitchen.
‘Happy birthday, Johnny,’ Nora said as she ran forward to give him a hug. ‘You all right?’