by June Tate
‘I am,’ she said. ‘But I’m so excited I’m sure I won’t sleep.’
Lily waited downstairs with her for the car to arrive.
Patting Lily’s hand Rachel said, ‘You make sure you have a good sleep. You need to look after yourself, especially now.’
With a startled look Lily asked, ‘What do you mean, especially now?’
‘Now you’re pregnant.’
‘Now I’m what?’
Rachel sat back in the chair. ‘Oy vey! I don’t believe it. You don’t even know, do you?’ She paused, taking in the shocked expression on Lily’s face. ‘I hear you being sick sometimes when I come in early in the morning. I know about these things. I can spot a pregnant woman a mile away.’
Lily put her hands to her face. ‘Oh my God!’
Rachel sat watching her. She could hardly believe that this young girl, able to fend for herself, capable of taking The Maltese as her lover and now a partner in what she hoped would be a thriving business, had not realised that she was with child. She knew so much, yet she knew so little.
Lily was stunned. Her periods had always been somewhat unpredictable, and she’d thought her symptoms were caused by her nervousness and excitement. Although inwardly she was convinced that her endeavours would eventually be successful, she’d been overwrought with the burden of the responsibility upon her young shoulders.
‘What am I going to do, Rachel?’
Coming straight to the point as usual, the Jewess said, ‘You have two choices. You have the child or an abortion.’
Lily’s eyes widened. ‘I’m not having any bloody abortion!’
‘Then it’s settled. You have the child.’
‘But what about the business? We’re trying to start on the straight and narrow. Me being Vittorio’s mistress is bad enough, but having his child …’ She suddenly sat up straight. ‘Vittorio! What will he say about it?’
Rachel raised her eyebrows. ‘What can he say? He made you pregnant.’
‘Oh Rachel. What a mess. The gossips will have even more to talk about now.’
Getting up from her chair, Rachel put an arm around Lily and held her close. ‘So what’s another mess? We’ve both had plenty. Maybe Vittorio will make an honest woman of you.’
‘What do you mean – marry me?’
‘There’s a different meaning?’
Lily slumped back in the chair. ‘I won’t tell him.’
‘So where are you going to carry this child – under your arm?’
Shaking her head, Lily said, ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘What’s to believe? You lie with a man, what do you expect? You won’t be able to hide it for long.’
‘Long enough to get the business off the ground, do you think?’
Shrugging, Rachel said, ‘Maybe. You’ll have to get bigger gowns to cover your belly as it swells. Maybe you’ll get away with it for three months. But in bed … you think he won’t notice?’
The taxi arrived and Lily kissed Rachel good night. ‘I’m going to bed. I’m knackered. I can’t think about anything.’
Rachel said, ‘Best thing. No need to get up too early. The staff will be in. You won’t be needed until later in the day. Bye, see you tomorrow!’
Rachel sat in the back of the taxi, with a feeling of satisfaction, but a fracas outside The Grapes public house made her sit up. A bottle came flying through the air and hit the side of the car and the driver cursed. Several drunken men were fighting and Rachel heard the sound of glass breaking, followed by a scream of pain. But such savage scenes could not mar her happiness.
Tonight had lived up to all her expectations. If only it would continue, for Lily’s sake. For Rachel, financial considerations were not important, but she wanted Lily to be independent – especially now a baby was on the way. How would The Maltese feel about being a father, she wondered.
She reached her destination and paid off the driver, then put the key into the door of her sizeable Edwardian house and walked into the entrance hall. As she locked the door behind her, she smiled softly. The Maltese had good taste; he would feel quite at home here, in these comfortable, well-furnished surroundings.
Once inside the large drawing room, she put on the light and pulled the heavy rich-green velvet drapes together and, sitting down on the comfortable easy chair, covered in damask the colour of port wine, she kicked off her shoes. She reached out for the cut-glass decanter on the table beside her and poured a large brandy. It was a nightly ritual which she enjoyed to the full.
A pity, she thought, there was no man to share these comforts with her, but she was used to living alone. On the whole, men brought nothing but trouble, and she enjoyed having the big double bed to herself.
Tipping the last of the nightcap down her throat, she made her way slowly up to bed, aware that the excitement of today would rob her of the sleep she so badly needed.
As Lily lay, equally restless, in the big bed on the other side of town, waiting for Vittorio, she stretched her arm across the empty space beside her. Tonight, she needed the comfort of his arms. She couldn’t accept that she was pregnant … now of all times. She pulled back the bedclothes and looked at her stomach. It didn’t appear any different. Foolishly, she’d never thought about getting pregnant. And Vittorio had once said he didn’t want a family. What would his reaction be when eventually she told him her news? Too tired to think straight, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
While Lily was engrossed in her plans for the Club Valletta, Tom McCann was trying to come to terms with being a father and attempting to mend his broken marriage. He loved his son, Thomas William, with all his heart. He played with the child constantly, enamoured with his every move and expression. He even sat with him, feeding him from the bottle. But he drew the line at changing nappies, saying it was woman’s work.
Mary, after being confined to bed for fourteen days following her labour, had been very weak and was only now getting back to normal. Because of her physical condition, and following the doctor’s advice, Tom had not attempted to make love to her.
He sat with her one evening, trying to sort out their future. ‘I’m sorry I upset you so much before the birth of the baby,’ he apologised.
Mary gave him one of her baleful looks. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Patiently he said, ‘It means I’m not leaving you and the lad. We must start again. Put all this behind us.’
He noticed her look of relief, quickly followed by one of fear.
‘What is it, darlin’?’ he said tenderly. ‘What’s bothering you?’
‘I don’t want any more babies!’ she declared.
‘That’s understandable, after what you went through. Do you think I would want to see you suffer like that again?’
‘I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die.’
‘Mary love, don’t take on so.’
There was sheer terror in her eyes as she looked at him. ‘It’s all right for you men. You don’t know the pain. It was like something tearing my insides to pieces. I couldn’t face it again.’ She closed her eyes as she mentally relived the traumatic birth. No man was worth it, she concluded.
‘I promise you I’ll be careful. I won’t make you pregnant.’
Glaring at him she said, ‘Well, you won’t get the chance, Tom McCann.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It means I’ll be a mother to our child and I’ll cook and clean for you and share your bed, but I won’t have sex with you. Not ever again!’
He was astonished. ‘How can you be a wife to me, without it?’
‘I’ll be an understanding wife. I know that it’s important to you.’ She grimaced. ‘Men can’t seem to do without it, but that’s fine. You just get it somewhere else.’
He couldn’t believe his ears. ‘Are you telling me that I can sleep with another woman?’
She looked at him quite calmly. ‘Yes.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘I’ve never been mor
e sane. You can have your women, I’ll take care of the rest. You’ll provide a home and food for me and your son. I think it’s an excellent arrangement.’
Tom sat in his chair puffing on a cigarette, pondering her words. Many men he knew would welcome such an arrangement! He thought it had its funny side and grinned to himself. After all, his sex-life with his wife had never been satisfying. Now his house would be clean, his food cooked, clothes washed and ironed, his child cared for and he was free as a bird. Wasn’t life strange? Looking across at Mary, he said, ‘Is that really what you want?’
‘Yes, I do. Mind you, I expect you to be discreet. Don’t make me appear a fool.’
He was bemused. ‘I’ve never heard anything like it in me whole life.’
‘Look, Tom,’ she reasoned. ‘I know I haven’t been the best wife in the world. You wanting to leave was partly my fault. But this way we can both have what we want. You’re earning again. I can have back my standard of living. You were always a generous man when you were earning. That’s all I want from you.’
‘Thanks. That makes me feel a right eejit!’
Ignoring his remark she added, ‘There is one more thing.’
‘And what on earth might that be?’
‘I don’t want you to tell me anything about it.’
His face flushed. ‘What sort of a man do you take me for? Do you think I’d come home and flaunt it in your face? That’s supposing I take a woman.’
Giving him a knowing look she said, ‘Oh, you will, Tom. You will.’
And she was right. Free of any guilt, Tom found a pretty young maid whose passionate nature matched his own and who was more than pleased to be seen with such a handsome man. Tom was shrewd enough not to take her to his usual haunts, thus keeping his amours discreet. He was straight with the girl, telling her he was married and wouldn’t dream of leaving his wife and child, that this was just a fling. The girl was still willing.
He had of course immediately thought of Lily, of hopefully renewing their love. But her disgust at his behaviour when last they’d met kept him at bay. And when he heard that she and Rachel Cohen had taken over the club, he felt she was no longer within his reach. Therefore he was a little nonplussed one day when he saw her walking towards him in Kingsland Square.
Lifting his cap in greeting he said, ‘Hello, Lily.’
She was studying a shopping list and was startled to hear her name. ‘Tom,’ she said with surprise.
He noticed the coldness in her voice. So she hadn’t forgiven him. He thought she looked well, though she had put on a little weight. Her complexion was as smooth as ever and her eyes as blue, but there was something different about her that he couldn’t put his finger on.
‘Lily. You’re looking well.’
‘Thank you.’
She seemed to have even more poise than usual, thought Tom. Well of course, nowadays she’d moved up in the world. ‘Congratulations. I heard about you and Rachel owning the club. I wish you both luck. What’s happened to Vittorio?’
Cocking her head on one side she asked, ‘Happened? What do you mean?’
He looked deep into her eyes, searching for some faint sign of what had been between them. There was nothing. ‘Is he still around?’
She ignored his question. ‘I hear your wife gave birth to a son. Congratulations. Try and be a good father, even if you’re no good as a husband. It’s important to a child.’
She walked away before he could answer.
Threading her way through the shoppers Lily headed for home. As she did so she thought to herself, You bloody hypocrite. How could you say such a thing when you haven’t even informed the father of the child you’re carrying?
She was surprised, too, that seeing Tom again had failed to interest her. She’d been so disillusioned with him at their last meeting that it had doused the flames of love that had burned within her for so long. And now, with her own pregnancy to consider, she scarcely ever thought of him.
At Rachel’s insistence, Lily had paid a visit to the doctor. After an examination, he informed her she was ten weeks pregnant, by his calculations.
When she told Rachel, the older woman asked, ‘How long are you going to wait before you tell Vittorio?’
Lily prevaricated. ‘I don’t know. When the time is right.’
Two weeks after the club reopened, four well-dressed strangers came into the bar. They ordered drinks and spoke with the barman, who then came over to Lily.
‘Excuse me, Miss Lily.’ He looked perplexed.
‘What is it?’
‘Those men at the bar, they’re asking for Mr Vittorio. Something about gambling.’
‘I’ll come and see them. Perhaps they’re old clients.’
‘No, miss. I’ve never seen them before.’
Walking over to the men, Lily said, ‘Good evening, gentlemen. Can I help you?’
The tallest one spoke. ‘We’re looking for Vittorio Teglia. He told us where we could find a card-game, but we’ve lost the address.’
Lily was puzzled. ‘There is no gambling here.’
‘We know that. It was some other place he has. Do you know where it is?’
She went cold. ‘No, I’m sorry. I’ve no idea.’
They drank up and left.
Lily stayed at the bar, trying to fathom this puzzle. Soon after the opening, when Vittorio could see that everything was running smoothly, he’d occasionally disappear for a couple of hours, returning just before closing time, telling her he’d had business to attend to. Now she began to wonder, what kind of business? She’d imagined it had to do with his finance company. Now she was worried. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
After the club closed that night, she tackled him. ‘Some men came here tonight looking for you.’
‘Oh. What did they want?’
‘They wanted to gamble. Apparently you told them of a place where they could play cards. A place that was yours.’
‘Oh, those chaps. Yes, I know.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because they found me later.’
She sat down and asked, ‘What’s going on, Vittorio?’
‘I’ve rented a small house. It’s a very select place – only a few invited clients use it. Nothing that need concern you.’
Lily was speechless. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had really thought Vittorio was going straight. ‘How could you?’
He glared at her. ‘It’s none of your business, Lily.’
‘Are you mad or what? You know the police are keeping an eye on you.’
He was unconcerned. ‘They can’t do anything about it. It’s a private house. I only have a small gathering and if the police should ask, it’s a get-together with friends, not a business.’
‘For which your so-called friends pay.’
‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘And pay handsomely.’ Seeing the expression on her face he said, ‘You must realise, Lily, that this is my business. My way of life. I’m not able to do it here, so I have to do it elsewhere. How do you think I make my money?’ he went on irritably. ‘There are no prostitutes now, no gambling. How do you expect me to buy your clothes, that jewellery you wear – on the modest profits of my legitimate loan-brokering business? You can’t be that naive! Besides, it’s what I do best, and I get a kick out of it.’
‘So much for your new way of life!’ Lily stormed out of the room, tears in her eyes.
As she undressed, she raged inwardly. How could he take such a chance, just as things were working out? Huh – that was a laugh! She was pregnant and Vittorio was breaking the law. Maybe nothing was working out. Yes, business was good in the club … at the moment. But it could all blow up in their faces. Poor Rachel, how disappointed she would be if it did fail. It was all right for Vittorio, he was well off. But if he was caught, everything would be ruined. All her hard work would be for nothing. And Rachel’s expectations would be shattered. She couldn’t tell her.
When Vittorio cl
imbed into bed beside her later, Lily turned away from him.
‘You’re still angry,’ he said.
‘Well, what do you expect?’
‘I expect you to have faith in me, Lily. You know that I never do anything without calculating the risks. And in this case there are none.’
She was not convinced. Impulsively, she blurted out: ‘Well, there’s one thing you didn’t calculate. I’m pregnant!’
She hadn’t meant it to come out like this.
He sat up. ‘You’re pregnant?’
She nodded. What would his reaction be? She held her breath.
He stared hard at her and asked, ‘Is this child mine?’
Still angered from the earlier revelation, Lily blazed at him. ‘How dare you ask me such a thing?’ She threw back the covers, got out of bed and stormed across the room. Picking up one of his silver-backed hairbrushes, she repeated her words, ‘How dare you!’ and threw the brush at him.
Vittorio ducked under the sheets, then leapt out of bed and swiftly crossed the room, grabbing her by the wrists. ‘How do I know it isn’t that man’s? That Tom McCann who came here and upset you.’ His dark penetrating gaze burned into her. ‘You said he wasn’t your lover but I didn’t believe you.’
Lily was so enraged she spoke before thinking. ‘We were lovers,’ she spat. ‘For just one night! Long before I met you. Now are you satisfied?’
‘When was this? Tell me.’
‘It’s none of your bloody business!’ she yelled at him.
His grip tightened, making her wince. ‘Indeed it is my business. You are mine. You belong to me.’ His voice was full of menace. ‘When?’
For the first time, Lily saw in Vittorio what caused so much fear in others, but she was too incensed to be cautious.
‘I don’t ask you about your women!’
‘If I thought you were carrying another man’s child, I’d kill you. When did you have this night of passion?’
‘It was a year before I came to live with you. Now are you satisfied?’
