Ruby's Palace

by KERRY BARNES

  She offered Ruby a chair opposite her in the tiny, bare kitchen. Ruby gazed around at the minimalist design. There were no doors on the cupboards and only one ring on the cooker with an iron grate to cook on. There was, however, a new toaster and kettle – an expensive, sixties diner style. The red and chrome seemed so out of place in the run-down, dirty, hovel.

  Jesse could see the disgust written all over Ruby’s face.

  “I got burgled. They pinched everything, even wrecked me home, ripped the doors off me cupboards, took me china, even nicked me sofas, and I cancelled me insurance just the week before.” Convinced by her own lies, she shed another tear.

  From the living room, a gruff voice shouted, “Any chance of a cuppa, Jess? Me mouth’s like the bottom of a fucking parrot’s cage!” Solly, a local lad, one of Jacob’s mates, who had just sat up through the night smoking skunk and listening to weird music, was still in the living room.

  Jesse had forgotten about him. She frantically jumped to her feet and dragged him out and onto the street.

  “Shut up, Solly. I’ve got me daughter over for dinner. Now, do one, will ya?”

  “What, you gonna fucking cook a roast? The only thing you can cook is yaself.” He laughed as he walked away, but she slammed the door shut so Ruby couldn’t hear.

  Ruby felt sorry for her mother. What thieving bastards to rob off a woman with cancer. No wonder she looked such a mess.

  “Did they take your clothes too, Mum?” Ruby was so into fashion, the be all and end all, that the worst thing they could pinch would be her clothes.

  Jesse nodded furiously, although she took that comment as an insult. Cheeky mare – she wanted to lean across and slap her one.

  “I tell ya what, Mum. I’ve got loads of clothes I haven’t even worn yet. If you want them, I can bring them next time I visit.”

  Jesse tried to work out if she could get any money for the clothes or if she should say they wouldn’t fit. Ruby might offer her the money instead.

  “Do you think they are my size? I have lost so much weight. It’s the cancer, ya see, it does that.”

  Ruby looked away. It made her feel sick – the notion that cancer could eat you away, like a living parasite, gnawing through the flesh.

  “Do you fancy going shopping? I’ve got my bank card,” suggested Ruby, feeling so sorry for her mother with all her problems.

  Jesse’s eyes widened. “You have a bank card at your age?”

  Ruby nodded. “Yeah, all my mates have,” she replied, unaware of the differences between the girls who went to a private school and those who went to a normal comprehensive.

  Ruby hung around with the Sevenoaks kids and, yes, they smoked dope and had a few fights, but they were spoilt, rich kids. They came from professional parents: most of them were doctors, lawyers or judges. Ruby’s father was classed as a businessman, but she knew the difference. She regularly visited the London gym with her brother and boxed, and she was a good fighter who could land a punch like a man. So, street fights in her own neighbourhood gave her respect. That’s how she fitted in, because the other pupils’ hobbies and conversations included horse riding, clay-pigeon shooting and ballet. So Ruby steered towards the wayward kids who, in her mind, were more interesting.

  Jesse, itching to find out how much she had tucked away in that bank account, said, “Listen, Ruby, I couldn’t take your last few quid, it wouldn’t be right. Just because the thieves nicked me stuff, it ain’t up to you to get me out of this mess.”

  “Mum, I’ve got more than a few quid. I had around nine hundred pounds last time I looked, might be more.” Ruby, being so open and honest, threw Jesse.

  “Good God, girl, that’s so much money!”

  Ruby smiled. She didn’t need it and it would be great to help her mother out, especially now her mother might not live for long.

  “I can go to the cash machine now and draw out four hundred, if you like?”

  Jesse imagined the drugs she could buy with that money. She heard that there was good quality cocaine around. The thought sent her on a high.

  “Well, if you’re sure, my babes. Then, as soon as I get meself sorted, I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

  Ruby felt proud of herself.

  Jesse guessed that their relationship would be short-lived. After all, what could she offer her daughter except freedom to smoke pot in her home and have a drink? Nothing, really.

  “He’s not a bad lad, that Jacob. You’ll not go wrong with him,” said Jesse.

  Ruby was astounded. If her father thought for one second she was entertaining a man in his twenties, who smoked dope and didn’t work for a living, then he would go mental. She liked the understanding side of her mother and she did have a soft spot for Jacob, who was older and more confident. He looked at her in a special way – unlike her teenage friends, with their stupid, childish grins and slobbery snogs. Her mates would be so jealous.

  “He is nice. I like his green eyes,” giggled Ruby.

  Jesse was onto a winning streak and knew she had to keep her daughter’s interest. All the time she came to visit, the money would follow. They talked for hours about the things Ruby did not dare talk to her father about. Jacob knocked at the door, hoping Ruby was still around and to retrieve his blow tucked behind the sofa.

  Jesse was full of smiles, which was a rarity. “Come in, Ruby’s in the kitchen!” Jesse acted as if he and Ruby were already a couple.

  “And you ran off with my fags,” she said, whilst maintaining her smile. Jacob pulled out the packet and offered Ruby one. She looked at her mother, who just smiled and graciously took one. It felt strange at first, smoking in front of her, but then as all three puffed away it became the most natural thing in the world. Jacob had a plastic bag containing six cans of special brew. He handed them out and, like an old hand, Ruby took one and joined in the drinking. They laughed and joked. Jacob set about impressing Ruby with his antics and Jesse encouraged him. “Go on, Jacob, tell Rubes how you had the Ol’ Bill running over the estate looking for you. Cor, it was funny. We was watching out of our windows!”

  Exaggerated tales of skulduggery impressed Ruby, as her eyes widened, and Jacob played up to it.

  He went to the living room and retrieved his puff. “Ya don’t mind if I roll a spliff, do ya?” He looked at Ruby, who glanced at her mother. Besides, it wasn’t her house. Jesse smiled. “You go ahead, boy. I could do with a puff meself, I’m in that much pain at times.” She made a pathetic attempt to appear downtrodden. He rolled his eyes; this was yet another load of bullshit spewing from her mouth.

  He didn’t care that she was a pathological liar who sold drugs – and her arse. His interest was a free house for a late night pipe session and a good-looking daughter who was easy pickings.

  He sucked deeply on the joint and coughed, passing to Jesse, who dragged heavily. Ruby took the fat spliff herself and puffed on it but the effects were far stronger than the silly bit of weed she shared with her mates in Knole Park on a Friday night. She coughed and felt light-headed. Jesse laughed. Her teeth looked blacker than ever and the green in Jacob’s eyes shone like emeralds.

  “’Ere, look at that. My daughter loves puff, she does.” She slapped Jacob on the arm and giggled.

  Ruby compared this life to her own. She concluded her mother had more respect for her by treating her like an adult. Her dad and the rest of the family made sure she knew she was the baby who was never allowed to act her age – never included in their drinking sessions or privy to their conversations.

  They spent the afternoon smoking dope, drinking and talking shit – but, at fifteen, Ruby thought she was having fun. When six o’clock came, she walked to the station accompanied by Jacob, who insisted on ensuring she was safe. Ten minutes before the train arrived, Ruby stood face-to-face with him, hoping he would kiss her before she left.

  “Text me when you get home so I know you’re okay.”

  She stared into his eyes and nodded, thrilled he was so interested in her. />
  He tilted his head to the side and, with half a smile, he whispered, “You have a pretty face and a beautiful smile.”

  Ruby tingled with excitement. He leaned forward and kissed her. This was a grown-up kiss – not like her stupid boyfriends, slobbering over her. He knew exactly what to do.

  “Will I see you again, Ruby gem?” His voice was charming and she fell for it. She wanted to act cool and say maybe but she couldn’t help herself. He had her hooked.

  “Yeah, I’ll come over in the week, if you want.”

  He nodded as the train pulled in. He kissed her once more and said, “Call me.”

  Delighted she had a new, grown-up boyfriend and a good relationship with her mother, she felt less like a child. She could smoke and drink and at least Jesse treated her as an equal. She was so immersed in the day’s events, Ruby almost missed her stop.

  Jesse counted the twenties which her daughter had drawn out of the cash machine. Four hundred pounds! She would have a fucking ball with that money. She would get as high as a kite.

  *

  When Ruby arrived home, she went straight to the bathroom and had a long soak.

  “Are you all right up there, Rubes?” shouted her father, who had hoped she might first have come into the living room to say hello.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be down after my bath!” she exclaimed.

  She needed to get rid of the smell of smoke and drink. If her father suspected either then he’d stop her going over there again. She was still stoned, but the alcohol gave her false confidence. When she had put her nightclothes on and entered the living room, Sam saw right away that she had been up to something.

  Slowly, he walked over, grabbed her chin, and pointed her face to the light.

  “What are you doing, Dad?” Ruby hadn’t realised that cleaning her teeth didn’t get rid of the smell of alcohol and getting so stoned left your eyes bloodshot.

  “Tell me, Ruby, where have you been, and what have you taken?” He didn’t shout at her but he looked very concerned.

  Jack marched into the room when he heard his father. He glared at his sister.

  “See, what did I tell you? That fucking mother of yours has given you drugs, hasn’t she?” he shouted, but Sam waved his arms to stop him.

  Ruby needed to think quickly, but the puff made it more difficult.

  “I didn’t see Mum. She wasn’t in.”

  Sam and Jack looked at each other.

  “So, where have you been then?” questioned her father.

  “Just out with me mates, and I admit I drank half a can of Fosters.” She turned around and headed back to her room before they began any more interrogation. From now on, she decided to keep her visits a secret.

  She scoured her bedroom for anything of value. Her jewellery box held obscene amounts of expensive bits – from diamond rings to Tiffany necklaces.

  Her handbags were designer quality – not fake shit – worth at least a grand. She could get a taxi, load it up, and head to her mother’s after school on Wednesday. That would be the best time as Jack would be at the gym and her father would be working at the club. She planned it all out. She would rescue her mum by giving her the cash she needed for her operation.

  The day’s experiences had once again left Ruby with so much to consider. She looked around her bedroom and convinced herself that it was claustrophobic. Her father smothered her and she should be treated more like a young adult than a five-year-old. Jacob had regarded her as a grown-up and so had her mother. She soon forgot Gloria, the flowered curtains, and the smell of lavender. It might have been warm and fluffy, but her mum’s flat offered her freedom.

  She dozed off to sleep, dreaming of Jacob, and woke up thinking of him, and that's how it was – until the next visit.

  *

  Monday afternoon, the Vincents held a meeting at the club to sort, out once and for all, the pikey situation.

  They had sent out their own men to find out what the hell was going on and they hoped they would soon be provided with some evidence of skulduggery.

  Dan sat rocking on his leather, high-back chair while the others perched on the sofas.

  “Looks like it was a put-up job. Those fucking travellers were organised by none other than the low-life Napper brothers!” said Dan, with a big grin on his face. They laughed, shaking their heads.

  “Well, that will have me quaking in me fucking daisy roots,” chuckled Fred.

  “For fuck’s sake, what’s the matter with them? As if they think they could get away with that,” growled Sam.

  “So, it turns out that Kenneth Napper, the stupid bastard, blames us for his club going down the pan. Now, it seems to me, and correct me if I’m wrong, it got closed down because of drugs, guns and no sign of rock n roll.” They all laughed.

  “And now, the fucking muppets want to get us nicked for the same thing and then have the cheek to reopen Nappers under a new name… should call it Nappies, ‘cos they are so full of shit.”

  Fred wobbled off the chair, laughing.

  “I’m going to hit them right where it hurts!” said Dan. His brothers sat on the edge of their chairs, waiting to hear the proposal.

  “I am gonna buy the old warehouse in the Old Kent Road, next to the old Nappers’ building, and open it as Vincents’ Palace, just to piss them off.” There was an all-around thumbs up. The Nappers’ clubs had lost their licence and were left with a building and no business. They had the money to set up under another name but their customers were now filling the trendy Palaces. The Nappers needed to get the Palaces out of the picture. The Vincents had a reputation for running a clean joint and there would be no problem getting their hands on the warehouse. Until it was up and ready for opening, no one should know who the new owner was. The Vincent empire was growing and so was the size of their man power.

  “Can we afford to open another Palace?” asked Sam.

  “I should cocoa. Have you looked at the last two months’ profits? With the clubs selling out every opening night, and selling vast amounts of champagne, we could afford all the clubs in the Old Kent Road.”

  He opened one of the better labels of champagne and poured each brother a drink. “Cheers! Let the fun begin!”

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I am fucking proud that we made good money from a clean club. All right, so the punters might have a bit of Charlie on ‘em, but it ain’t no fucking rave.” The boys looked at Sam, who hated drugs with a passion. He smiled and nodded.

  Fred jumped up. “Well, I still think they need a fucking visit with me mate, the iron cosh.” Always ready for a ruck and now thirty-seven, he still bounced around like a teenager. Sam pretended to spar with him. They were like two kids. “Leave off, you two, I don’t want any bloodshed. Buying the building on their manor will hurt them more. Besides, fucking ‘ell, they are old ‘as beens!” said Dan, who was too old for the fighting game himself.

  “Yeah, but you need to make a statement – or you’ll have another mob doing the fucking same. Nah, I say we give them a beating, teach them a lesson in respect,” stated Fred, punching the air.

  “You’d better get down the gym, Mr Blobby,” laughed Sam, who whacked his little brother around the face for not moving out of the way in time.

  “No one's gonna get their hands dirty. Johnnie and his brother can give the Nappers a pasting, if that’s what you want, Fred. ‘Cos I’m sure Johnnie has been itching to bash the old bastard. By all accounts, Kenneth loves to give his missus a slap now and then!”

  *

  Kenneth’s wife, Celia, had taken enough abuse off her husband, but refused to leave due to the lavish lifestyle she had – the holidays to their Spanish villa, the shopping sprees on Oxford Street, and her luxury home, complete with shag pile carpets and corner bath units. Kenneth was a bully who shouted and hollered every time he laid eyes on her and, if he’d had too much gin, got handy too. The years had taught her to say little, keep a clean house, have a dinner on the table for him and, other t
han that, keep out of the way. Nigel, Kenneth’s brother, married Celia’s sister, Maureen, and that was also a reason for Celia to stick around. She loved to spend time with Mo, as she was commonly known.

  John, the bouncer at the club, a long-time doorman for the Vincents, was secretly knocking off Celia. It was a little indiscretion not even Mo knew about, but their pillow talk had inevitably landed on Dan’s ears. Any news like this was a power tool and the deliverer would be held in high esteem as far as the Vincents were concerned. If push came to shove, the best side to be on was theirs.

  Fred agreed to stay away and let the Lees do the dirty work.

  Kenneth and Nigel were worried now that the pikeys had cocked up the plan. They took a big risk getting the travellers involved, and should have known that if you put a gypsy under enough pressure he will save himself – even if that means grassing. That’s what happened so, right now, the Nappers would not stick around to find out the consequences.

  Kenneth was packing his suitcase and had told Nigel to do the same. The phone rang and he shouted to his wife, “I’m in Spain, if anyone asks!” His face was tight and she knew he was in a blind panic.

  Celia was on edge herself. She had said too much to Johnnie but he had always been a good listener and she loved him. Maybe she had always wanted it to fall on the Vincents’ ears.

  She answered the phone to her sister, who was furious that Nigel was packing and going off to Spain without her.

  “Fucking selfish bastard, he is. Thinks he can fuck off to Spain, and leave me ‘ere on me own!”

  “Maureen, just let the boys go, and we can join them later,” replied Celia, who hoped her husband would soon leave. He was getting more uptight by the minute and she would be in the firing line. She needed to get Mo off the phone so she could help her husband on his way. If he had any idea she had been earwigging on his conversations and blabbing to Johnnie, then she was a dead woman.