by June Tate
‘I hope not!’ retorted Lily. ‘I want a peaceful life for her.’
‘No chance,’ Rachel scoffed. ‘She’s got your looks and Vittorio’s colouring. Aiy yi! Such a combination. You’ll have your work cut out as she grows, mark my words.’
Gazing at her child, Lily hoped Rachel was wrong. She wanted Victoria to have a good life, free of the deprivations Lily herself had experienced, shielded from the sexual appetites of unsuitable men. She would protect her daughter from such things. When she was old enough, the little girl would go to a good school and be well-educated, prepared for a life away from the docklands far removed from the seedy world that she, Lily, had grown up in. With Vittorio’s help she could plan a start in life for Victoria such as she’d never experienced as a child.
Later that evening, Vittorio sat beside the bed watching Lily feeding his daughter. He looked on in delight at the child suckling. ‘That is the most beautiful sight in the world, a child at its mother’s breast.’
Lily was overcome with maternal love as she held the small bundle in her arms. But in the back of her mind she wondered how it was that her own mother had shown none of these feelings for her, had never held her in a warm, motherly embrace. How could a mother not love her own flesh and blood? Lily knew she would be willing to make any sacrifice for Victoria, yet her own mother had been completely indifferent and heartless.
Seeing the shadow cross her face, The Maltese asked, ‘What is it my darling? What’s wrong?’
Shaking her head she said, ‘I was only wondering what sort of mother couldn’t love her own child.’
Holding her hand, he said, ‘Only someone who is very sad and unhappy. You are thinking of your own mother, aren’t you? You should feel pity for her. Think of what she’s missed all these years, how empty the life of such a person must be.’
Watching Victoria’s little mouth working away, Lily agreed. Whatever lay ahead for this beautiful child of hers, she wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.
It was now the month of June. Lily was fully recovered from the birth of her child and back at the club working full-time. She’d hired a nanny to look after Victoria when she was busy, but spent every free moment with her baby.
Vittorio was besotted with his child and he too would slip into the back entrance of the club whenever he was free.
The club was thriving. The rooms were always fully booked and, as Rachel had prophesied, the tables in the dining room were reserved weeks in advance. Examining the monthly accounts, Rachel had suggested to the couple that they should look around for a second establishment, to be run on similar lines, but in a smarter area of Southampton.
‘Can we afford it?’ Lily asked. ‘Isn’t it a bit too soon?’
‘My life!’ exclaimed Rachel. ‘Don’t you have no faith? You got to speculate to accumulate – isn’t that right, Vittorio?’
He was in agreement with her. ‘As long as it’s a small enterprise. This is not the time to go too big, but yes, I think it’s a good idea. I’ll start looking around for a suitable property.’
Later, when she and Lily were alone, Rachel confided, ‘I have a dream, Lily. A small chain of hotels, offering the best service … at the highest prices naturally,’ she added with a gleam in her eye.
Lily raised an eyebrow. ‘If Manny gets to hear about this he’ll come running.’ Seeing the look of concern on Rachel’s face she asked, ‘Have you heard from him again?’
‘Sure I hear from him – about once a month. He’s now married to the widow Goldburg. She’s got plenty but wisely she keeps a tight hold of it.’
‘What does he want?’ asked Lily.
‘What do you think he wants? Money! I get begging letters, then when I don’t answer, he sends letters threatening me. He’s a meshuggener. I don’t have a son – I have a leech.’
Lily was worried. ‘What will he do? Do you think he’ll be any trouble? Will he come here again?’
With a derisive laugh, Rachel said, ‘What, and face Vittorio again? Never! He’s a gutless little sod. But I don’t give him nothing, not after the way he treated you.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Lily. ‘I feel awful. I didn’t mean to come between you.’
‘Look, Lily, don’t you understand? I don’t do him any favour if I shell out my money. He’s got to learn to fend for himself. Be a man. Stand on his own two feet. I give him some – he comes back for more.’
We all have our problems, thought Lily the next day as she walked the baby in her pram around the market. Her presence had caused quite a stir. She was aware of the glances at the sleeping child, the whispers, the speculative looks in her direction. There were a few who knew her of old who genuinely wanted to look at the baby and congratulate her. But she was very aware of the others. Holding her head high, she continued with her shopping, but in her heart she worried for the future of her daughter.
Mary McCann, Thomas’ pram at her side, was buying vegetables at one of the stalls when she suddenly became aware of the buzz around her. She turned and looked at the pretty girl pushing her own pram who seemed to be the centre of so much attention and gossip. Her curiosity got the better of her and, turning to the stallholder, she asked, ‘Who is that woman?’
‘That’s Lily Pickford, owner of the Club Valletta. Great girl. Sings like an angel.’
‘What does her husband do?’
The man winked at her. ‘She ain’t married, love. She’s the mistress of The Maltese. Baby looks just like him.’ He turned away to serve another customer.
Mary froze. She had learned from a spiteful friend that her Tom used to go out with the notorious Lily Pickford.
Lily came to the same stall but before she could ask for her wares, the man said, ‘Here’s another new mum – Mary McCann. You know Tom, her husband, don’t you?’
Lily saw the hostile look in Mary’s eyes. ‘Yes, I knew Tom.’ Glancing into the pram she said, ‘Congratulations. I heard you had a baby. What’s his name?’
‘Thomas,’ snapped Mary. She looked at the olive skin of Lily’s child and said, ‘I’m told yours is like her father.’
Lily felt her hackles rise at the spiteful tone in Mary’s voice.
Mary was awash with jealousy. This was the woman her husband had called to in his sleep; the one he loved far more than her. ‘You used to be close to my husband, I believe.’
A crowd started to gather. They all knew of Lily’s friendship with Tom, as they used to shop together in the market during their courting days, and, sensing the strained atmosphere between the two women, they moved closer to witness the encounter.
Lily gave a friendly smile. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘Well, now he’s a happily married man, so you keep away from him!’
Mary’s attitude was getting to Lily. She could well understand Tom’s unhappiness as she saw the woman’s tight mouth. ‘As long as he’s happy with you, my dear, and you keep him satisfied, you won’t have anything to worry about, will you?’
Knowing the situation in her marriage was more than precarious put Mary even more on her mettle. ‘At least my child isn’t a bastard, like yours.’
There was a gasp from the listening crowd. Lily looked at Mary and burst out laughing. ‘You really are a bitch – just as Tom said you were, but I’ll give you this … you had the courage to put into words what everyone around us is thinking. Yes, my child is a bastard, but I’m not ashamed of her. And I’ll do for anyone who tries to harm her. As for your Tom, I wouldn’t touch him with a barge-pole.’ She leaned closer to Mary and said softly, ‘I believe there we are both in agreement. You may have a marriage certificate, Mary McCann, but I’m more of a wife to Vittorio than you ever were to your husband. You could crack walnuts between your knees, you keep them so tight together!’
She walked away, leaving Mary open-mouthed.
That evening as she was serving Tom his dinner, Mary, still seething from her earlier encounter, said, ‘I met Lily Pickford today in the market.’
Tom’s knife clattered onto his plate. Picking it up again he said, ‘Lily Pickford?’
‘You know her, Tom, so don’t lie to me. She’s the mistress of Vittorio Teglia. Her baby, Victoria, looks just like him – so I’m told.’
He glared at her. ‘Really? So what?’
‘So she’s the one you used to talk about in your sleep.’
He looked up. ‘Used to. Don’t I do it any more then?’
She shook her head. ‘Get fed up with you, did she?’ She couldn’t help the snide remark. Although she didn’t want any physical contact with her husband and she didn’t care about his girlfriends, she knew that this woman had been something special to Tom and she was jealous. ‘Mind you, you couldn’t keep her as well as The Maltese. The clothes she was wearing were very expensive. Far beyond your pocket.’
His mouth tightened. ‘Don’t go on, Mary. You’ve got what you want, a home and money coming in. Don’t push your luck.’
‘At least your child isn’t a bastard, like hers. I told her as much.’
‘You what?’
‘I told her what I thought of her and I told her to keep away from you. She said she wouldn’t touch you with a barge-pole.’
He looked at her with hatred. ‘And what else did she say?’ Mary’s cheeks flushed scarlet. Seeing her embarrassment he persisted, ‘Knowing Lily, she would have given as good as she got. Did she?’
‘She said she didn’t care, and at least I had the courage to put into words what everyone was thinking.’
‘You couldn’t help yourself, could you, Mary? Courage … my arse! You were filled with spite – you just had to have a go.’ He picked up his plate and threw it against the wall. Mary stepped back in horror. He stood up slowly. ‘You rotten bitch! Never talk to me about her again – you understand? She’s more of a woman than you’ll ever be!’ He stormed out of the house.
Mary cleared up the mess with trembling fingers, at the same time knowing that although Lily and Tom were no longer seeing one another, Lily was a woman he would never forget.
‘What do you mean, he hasn’t paid up?’ Vittorio’s eyes flashed angrily as he looked across his desk at George.
‘He keeps making excuses, guv. Says he’ll ask his old man for the money, but all he’s interested in is gambling and dancing. Last week he won a Charleston competition. He was full of it.’
Vittorio sat back in his chair. With a thoughtful expression he said, ‘He wouldn’t be able to dance with a broken ankle, would he?’
‘Not very well, guv,’ said George with a smile. ‘That would really throw a spanner in the works.’
‘Then see to it – and tell him if he doesn’t settle up with me by the end of the week, you’ll break the other one. Then pay his old man a visit – and tell him what’s going on.’
‘Right, guv.’
Shaking his head, Vittorio said, ‘This all makes me sick. You help these people out and they mess you about. I’m pissed off with it.’ He gazed across at George, who’d worked faithfully for him for years. ‘No doubt you are too.’
‘Trouble is, guv, we’re getting older. A few years ago it wouldn’t have bothered us at all. It would have been sorted and forgotten.’
When he was alone, Vittorio considered George’s words. It was true. And it wasn’t just his age. Since he’d become a father, his whole outlook on life had changed. He was already thinking of buying a house, a proper home for him and Lily to live in and bring up their child. He really didn’t want all this bother any more – trouble with the police, having to cover his tracks over every deal. There was no longer any excitement in cheating the law.
He would enjoy a quieter life, running the hotels and making an honest living, watching his child grow. He gave a wry smile. Good heavens, he was contemplating becoming respectable! Who would believe it? Certainly not Lily, although he knew she’d be pleased if he told her how he felt. If they opened another establishment, he could give up the finance company altogether, and the house he used for gambling. He’d more than enough money as long as the hotels were successful. The whole thing needed some serious thought. He’d go to the estate agents today and ask about properties for a new hotel, and at the same time, he’d pick up the prospectuses of a few houses.
He smiled to himself. If he did all this, maybe Lily would seriously consider marriage. It was time they settled down and became a proper family.
Manny Cohen was walking up and down the well-furnished living room, raging at his wife. ‘You tight-fisted old bitch! Why did you marry me? Why? You don’t give me money to enjoy myself. You make me work for that uncle of mine when you know I hate it there. We could afford for me to stay at home.’
Miriam looked at him and quietly said, ‘I could afford it … not so much of the we. Besides,’ she added, ‘I don’t ask you to give me money for housekeeping. I pay all the bills, I dress you well. You’ve got your pocket money from your weekly wage. What’s to complain about?’
He held out his hands and pleaded, ‘What can I do with that pittance? I can’t afford to go nowhere.’
Speaking as if to a child, she said, ‘Where would you want to go, Manny? We go to the pictures. To the theatre. Visit friends. We eat out once a week. We’re going to Bournemouth for a holiday later this year.’
‘Bournemouth! Who wants to go there? We could travel to the South of France and live like millionaires for a couple of weeks, staying at the best hotels.’
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’d like to visit the casino, no doubt, and the brothels. I know you so well. You are a pitiless excuse for a man.’
‘Then why did you marry me?’
‘For convenience. A widow woman doesn’t get asked out so much and I like my social life.’
Manny gave her a sly look through his hooded eyes. ‘You and your wealthy friends. How can I impress them if I’m not as well-heeled as they are?’
She laughed at him. ‘You’ve never been so comfortable in your life. When I first saw you, you were a mess. Your clothes were shabby and dirty; you never bathed. Now you’re well dressed with a wardrobe of expensive suits. You live in a nice house, and I have someone to sleep with without losing my reputation.’
He looked at her in disgust. ‘The truth is, Miriam, that you’re so bloody ugly no man worth his salt would look at you!’
Instead of being angry, she smirked. ‘I know I’m no oil painting, my dear, but any woman with money can get a man, even if she has only one leg and one eye. But I decided you would do.’
‘You talk as if I’m a piece of merchandise.’
‘That’s precisely what I think. And you ain’t worth a great deal either, but you’ll do. You fit my needs. You do as you’re told, only because without me you’d have very little. You should feel privileged instead of whining all the time. Others would give their right arm to be in your shoes. Now go and put the kettle on and make me a cup of tea.’
Manny knew he was beaten. Without Miriam, he had nothing. But he was her slave, fetching and carrying, having to make love to her. It was the only hope he had of satisfying his sexual urges and he hated himself for it.
He meekly made his way to the kitchen, cursing his mother and Lily beneath his breath. It was all Lily’s fault. Until she came on the scene, he’d had enough money. His mother was generous. He’d had the women he wanted whenever he wanted and he didn’t have to work hard. He’d pay her back one day. By God he would.
Lily and Rachel were planning a huge fancy-dress evening at the club. ‘We could use the old gambling room for extra tables, then move the other tables around to give a bit more space for dancing. If we pack them tightly together, we should get in extra punters. You know how the toffs like to dress up. We could make it a masked ball.’ Lily’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘We’ll do a special menu. Advertise well in advance. Make it a ticket-only do.’
Rachel grinned. ‘They’ll sell like hot cakes. It’s a great idea.’
Lily gave her a sly look. ‘A
s it’s going to be a masked affair, Vittorio will be able to come down into the club. No one will know it’s him.’
‘Such a crafty girl you are, Lily Pickford. As you say, who’s to know? We’ll discuss the idea with Vittorio, but I can’t imagine he’ll object.’
Vittorio didn’t. He thought the idea was inspired, and was tickled when Lily told him she’d hire a costume for him too.
‘I’ll enjoy that, wandering around in disguise. It should be a great night, my darling.’
‘And we’ll make a lot of money,’ said Rachel happily.
Lily went over her plans, sorted out the menu with the chef, hired extra staff and put her advertisements in various papers. The bookings poured in.
Manny Cohen was one of the first to purchase a ticket.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was the day of the fancy-dress ball and the club was in chaos. Florists arrived to decorate the interior with ropes of flowers. The bandstand was suitably bedecked. Waiters busily carried cutlery, tablecloths and napkins, squeezing through the narrow spaces caused by the extra tables. Lily was running around like a scalded cat, making sure that all was in order.
Walking into the kitchen she checked with the chef that he had all he required. ‘Everything’s fine, Miss Lily, don’t you fret.’ He grinned broadly at her. ‘This is going to be a big night.’
And it was. All their tickets had sold and many people had been disappointed. To appease them, Lily promised to put on another gala evening in the near future.
Vittorio closed his office early and was going over the bar stock, ringing up the suppliers for more champagne. ‘I have a feeling we’ll need it,’ he said.
With an hour to go, he dragged Lily away. ‘Come along upstairs, the staff can manage. Why not take a bath and play with Victoria before she goes to bed, and then you can get into your costume. After all, you must be there to greet the clients. I’ll slip down a bit later, when there are plenty of people about.’ He drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead. ‘There’s nothing more for you to do here for the moment.’
