by Roberta Kray
Joseph gave her another searching look. At least she presumed that was what he was doing; she couldn’t really tell through the sunglasses. ‘Someone piss you off, babe?’ he asked. ‘You don’t look too happy if you don’t mind me saying.’
‘Yeah, someone did. But it doesn’t matter. I won’t be seeing him again.’
‘I thought so. I might only have one eye but I still know a pissed-off lady when I see one.’
Lita flinched as he mentioned his eye and instantly knew that she couldn’t keep the truth from him. ‘It’s my fault,’ she blurted out. ‘What happened to you, with Tony Cecil, I mean.’ And then it all spilled out, everything about the night he had been attacked, how she’d overheard the exchange in the yard between Tony and his mates, how she’d known about their plans but done nothing. She didn’t pause for breath until she’d finished, and then she took in a large gulp of air like a drowning swimmer desperate for oxygen.
‘Shit, it weren’t your fault. Don’t be crazy. What could you have done about it?’
‘Told someone? Rung the police?’
‘It wouldn’t have made no difference. By the time they got here, it would have all been over.’ Joseph gave her elbow a nudge. ‘You been carrying that around all these years? You got to put it out of your mind. You ain’t got nothin’ to feel bad about.’
Lita was relieved he didn’t blame her, even if she couldn’t quite stop blaming herself. At the age of thirteen she’d known the difference between right and wrong. She’d been too afraid to do anything, but fear was no excuse for cowardice.
Joseph leaned forward, took a pouch from his shirt pocket and began to build a cigarette. She watched his fingers as they laid out a pinch of tobacco before he deftly rolled the paper into a perfect cylinder. He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it. ‘What you got to understand,’ he said, ‘is that if it hadn’t been that night it would have been the next, or the one after that. It was going to happen, no matter what.’
‘But why you? Tony was convinced it was Jude Rule until that point.’
‘’Cept you gave the guy an alibi.’
Lita glanced away. Joseph knew that alibi was fake – she’d been in the tunnel with him when she was supposed to be watching Sunset Boulevard – and didn’t know what to say.
‘Once Tony figured Rule was out of the frame, he had to pick on someone else. He had to be seen to be taking revenge on the murdering fucker who’d killed his girlfriend. It was a matter of “respect”, of reputation. Anyone would have done, but the fact the filth had pulled me in over Amy gave him the excuse he needed. No smoke without fire and all that.’
‘Did they give you a bad time, the cops?’
Joseph gave a low laugh. ‘No worse than usual. If they could have pinned it on me, they would – some black dope-dealing scumbag who hangs out on the estate – but I ain’t got no form for violence and they sure as hell couldn’t find no evidence of murder.’
‘It doesn’t stop people talking though, does it?’
‘People can say what they like.’ He touched his chest with his palm. ‘It’s what’s in here that counts. I know the truth and that’s all that matters.’
‘So who do you reckon killed Amy? Do you think it was Tony?’
Joseph dragged on his cigarette, and gave her a sidelong glance. ‘Can’t have done, can he? He had an alibi.’
Lita hesitated before speaking again. ‘But what if… I mean, what if the alibi was false?’
‘Course it was false, babe. Terry fixed it for him, didn’t he?’
She looked at him, surprised. ‘You knew that?’
Joseph grinned. ‘I know everything that goes on around here.’
‘So Tony could have done it. If he lied about where he was —’
‘He didn’t kill her.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘Because I know where he really was that afternoon.’ Joseph’s mouth twitched at the corners. ‘He went where he always went when his uncle cleared off early – to a certain gentleman’s club in Stoke Newington.’
‘I don’t understand. If he was at a club then why didn’t he just say?’
‘’Cause this ain’t the sort of club you want people to know about.’
Lita frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Let’s just say it’s ain’t the kind of place you’ll find any ladies. Men only, if you get my drift.’
‘You mean… But Tony isn’t like that. He had girlfriends. He was going out with Amy.’
Joseph gave her a look. ‘Sure he was. Had to look the part, right? Didn’t want people guessing he’d rather play with the boys than the girls. Man has a reputation to uphold.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t mean he ain’t still one nasty sonofabitch, though.’
Lita pushed aside her ponytail and scratched the back of her neck where the sun was prickling her skin. ‘No, he’s that all right.’ Despite the heat, a chill was starting to sink into her. For all these years she’d believed that Tony had to be responsible for Amy’s death but now… If he wasn’t guilty, then who was? Only one name sprang to mind.
‘You okay, babe?’
Lita nodded and stood up. Her legs didn’t feel entirely steady. ‘I’ve got to go. It’s been good to see you again. You take care, yeah?’
‘You know where I am. Don’t be a stranger.’
‘I won’t.’ She said her goodbyes and headed for the gate. As she walked towards the high street she thought about the alibi she’d given Jude. Had she inadvertently protected a killer, lied and schemed to cover up a murder? The idea made her sick to her stomach.
60
As Lita opened the front door she could hear raised voices coming from the kitchen. She would have gone on upstairs, kept out of the way, if she hadn’t heard her own name mentioned. At this point natural curiosity took over. She tiptoed through the hall even though she didn’t need to bother – Stella and Jackie were arguing so loudly they wouldn’t have noticed if the Coldstream Guards were marching through the house.
‘Just get over it, can’t you? She’s not doing any harm. What’s with all the aggro?’
‘I don’t want her here. How many times do I have to fuckin’ tell you? It’s my house too. I’ve a right to decide who lives in it.’
‘Not when you’re behaving like a stupid cow. Give me one good reason why I should chuck her out. C’mon, I’m waiting.’
‘She’s only here to cause trouble. Can’t you see that? The sooner we get shut of her the better.’
‘What the hell kind of trouble can Lolly cause? She’s just a kid for God’s sake, a kid who needs a roof over her head. Since when did you become so bleedin’ hard-hearted? What’s she ever done to you?’
Lita was almost at the kitchen door by now. She’d like the answer to that question too. And why was it that people were always going on about her causing trouble? It was an accusation that followed her round, like a grim shadow tugging at her heels. First there had been Brenda and Freddy, Tony and FJ, then Mrs Gough and Esther, and now it was Jackie. Everywhere she went it was the same. Which made her wonder if the fault lay in herself, that maybe there was something bad in her, something rotten.
Lita was so distracted by this thought that she banged into a small table set against the wall. The noise was enough to alert the two women and they immediately fell silent. With little choice other than to brazen it out, she stepped forward and showed herself.
‘Don’t stop on my account.’
Jackie’s face was pink, but not with embarrassment. There was rage in her eyes and her mouth was twisted. Lita was taken aback. How could she be the cause of so much negative emotion in a woman she hardly knew? There had to be a reason but she couldn’t figure it out.
‘It’s somethin’ and nothin’,’ Stella said, trying to smooth over an awkward situation.
Jackie’s nostrils flared. ‘In your opinion.’
‘Which was as good as yours last time I checked.’
‘Go to hell!’ And w
ith that Jackie stomped out of the kitchen, pushing past Lita on her way. ‘You can both go to hell!’
Stella rolled her eyes. ‘She’s just having a bad day, hon. Time of the month.’
‘Why does she hate me so much?’
‘Oh, she doesn’t, not really.’
‘Maybe it would be better if I did go.’
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Stella said stubbornly. ‘Not until you’re good and ready.’
Lita thought that she was pretty much ready now – she’d had enough of living in war zones – but didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Stella had fought her corner and that was no small thing. ‘Well, it shouldn’t be too long. As soon as I get a job…’
‘There’s no rush, sweetheart, no rush at all. Just forget about it. Do you fancy a brew?’
‘No, thanks. I’ve got to go somewhere. I’ll see you later.’
As Lita passed the reception area she saw Jackie perched on the edge of one of the sofas with the phone pressed against her ear. There was a sense of urgency about the way she spoke, quickly in a low voice, almost whispering, her whole body tensed. What was going on? It was time, perhaps, to confront her head on. But not right now. She had something to do and it couldn’t wait.
It was always a trial negotiating Albert Road. No matter how quickly she walked, her gaze focused dead ahead, the kerb-crawlers wouldn’t leave her alone. They wound down their windows and called out. They cruised along beside her, coarse and vile, their voices demanding what she wasn’t prepared to give. Ignoring them made no difference; they persisted until she turned the corner.
Lita walked as fast as she could without breaking into a run. It was a relief to finally reach Station Road and shake off her pursuers. Although she was free of them, their lewd suggestions still echoed in her mind. Like she was a piece of meat, an object, a thing.
She crossed over and headed for the Fox. The plus side to Jackie’s outburst was that it had put Jude temporarily out of her mind. But now what Joseph had said came back to haunt her. Had she made a terrible mistake? Jesus, she hoped not. She’d spent all these years clinging to the belief that Tony Cecil was guilty and the knowledge that he couldn’t be was a truth that sat uneasily with her.
Lita pushed open the door to the pub and stepped inside. It wasn’t too busy and she spotted Terry straight away. He looked the same and yet different: the familiar Terry but older and with a new air of authority. He was sitting at a table to her left with the big guy, Vinnie Keane. She didn’t pause but walked straight over and stood in front of him.
‘Hello, Terry.’
He looked up and grinned. ‘Ah, if it isn’t my old friend, Lolly Bruce. About time too.’
Lita was surprised he even recognised her. She frowned and smiled at the same time. ‘What do you mean?’
‘How long have you been back now? Three days, four, and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you. I was starting to think you’d forgotten all about your old mate.’
‘How did you…’ But she didn’t bother to finish the question. Jackie had probably filled him in on her unexpected arrival at the house in Albert Road. Or maybe Stella had got there first, although if she had she hadn’t mentioned it. ‘Sorry. Still, I’m here now.’
Terry patted the empty chair beside him. ‘Better late than never. Here, grab a pew. Let me get you a drink.’
‘I’ll just have an orange juice, thanks.’
Vinnie immediately got up to go to the bar. ‘Same again, guv?’
Terry nodded. Then he turned to Lita and asked, ‘So what brings you back to Kellston? I heard you were living in Kent.’
‘Who told you that? Oh, Brenda, I suppose.’
‘You get sick of all those nice green fields?’
‘Something like that.’
‘That’s because you’re a city girl, sweetheart, born and bred. You don’t belong in the country. All them cows and sheep are enough to send anyone crazy after a while. When all’s said and done it just ain’t natural.’
Lita laughed, surprised by how comfortable she felt with him. He might look the part of the East End gangster with his smart suit and cool eyes, but underneath the veneer she could still see the original Terry. ‘As opposed to the dirt and the noise and the never-ending hassle?’
‘Yeah, lovely ain’t it?’
‘Is it true that you own this place now?’
‘You like it?’
It was the first time Lita had ever been inside. As a youngster she’d loitered by the side door, ferrying messages between Joe Quinn and Brenda, but had never once crossed the threshold. She looked around. The pub had an old-fashioned air to it, but in a good way. There was a polished wood floor, an open fireplace and lots of nooks and crannies. The sturdy benches and chairs were covered with a dark red velvety material. The long mirror behind the bar gleamed, and she realised on staring at the reflection that from where he was sitting Terry could keep an eye on almost every part of the main room. ‘It’s nice,’ she said. ‘It feels very… welcoming.’
‘I like that,’ he said, nodding. ‘Welcoming, huh? I reckon that’s what a pub should be.’
Vinnie came back with the drinks, and sat on the other side of Terry. He was a huge, intimidating bear of a man, probably in his late thirties or a bit older, and had one of those faces it was impossible to read. She’d have preferred to speak to Terry in private but could hardly ask the guy to leave. She sipped on her orange juice and said, ‘I hope you don’t mind me staying with Stella. It won’t be for long, just until I get a place of my own.’
‘Why should I mind? Ain’t no skin off my nose.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Just watch yourself, that’s all.’
‘Who should I be more worried about – the punters or Jackie?’
Terry grinned at her bluntness. ‘Both.’
‘I don’t know what her problem is. Do you?’
‘You’ll have to ask her that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s never to get involved in women’s arguments. Believe me, it don’t ever end well. I prefer to keep me balls attached to my body, if you’ll pardon the language.’
Lita, accepting that he wasn’t going to tell her even if he did know anything, moved swiftly on. ‘I was wondering if you had any jobs going? Maybe here, behind the bar?’
‘You ever worked in a pub before?’
Lita shook her head. ‘I’m a fast learner. I reckon I could pick it up.’
‘Well, there’s nothin’ at the moment, but I’ll bear you in mind if anyone leaves.’
‘What about something else?’
‘What have you got in mind?’
Lita shrugged, unwilling to give up. ‘Whatever. I’ve worked in a jewellery store. I’m no expert but I know a bit about watches and precious stones and the rest.’
Terry raised his eyebrows in a sceptical arch.
‘Really,’ she said.
But Terry seemed more amused than impressed by her claims. He put his hand in his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a ring and passed it over to her. ‘What do you make of this, then?’
Lita held the sparkling ring in her palm. On first sight the stone looked like a large circular diamond – about 0.90 carats – set in platinum, but she wasn’t fooled by appearances. Mal had always said she had a good eye. He’d talked her through all the techniques of telling a genuine stone from a fake, and she’d listened carefully, wanting to please him. In some cases, like this one, it was simple; in others, there was more work involved.
