East End Trouble

by D. S. Butler

  Trevor burst into the kitchen, saw his dad standing there and broke into a broad smile. They hadn’t left him. But then he peered behind his father and saw that his mother wasn’t there. And he promptly burst into tears.

  Dave had a banging headache, and Trevor’s screeching went right through him.

  He got down on his knees and wrapped his arms around his son. “Calm down, Daddy is here.”

  He wanted to tell Trevor everything would be all right, but he couldn’t because nothing would be all right again.

  He scooped the boy up in his arms and stood up.

  “Thanks for everything, Rita. I can take it from here.”

  Rita looked at him dubiously. “Are you sure? I could stick around and prepare something for dinner? I know Sandra probably—“

  Dave cut her off. “I can manage. Thanks again.” He walked her to the door.

  She reached up to ruffle Trevor’s hair before she left, but the boy flinched away from her, burrowing his head into Dave’s chest.

  After Rita had left and Dave had shut the door behind her. He carried his son into the kitchen.

  “Now, tell me what’s the matter,” Dave said although he knew exactly what the matter was. The little boy had just lost his sister.

  “Where’s Mummy? Has she gone too?”

  Dave sat down at the kitchen table and balanced Trevor on his knee. “She’ll be back in a week. She’s just had your baby brother. We’ll go and visit them tomorrow.”

  Trevor looked up at Dave and blinked. “Is Lillian coming back, too?”

  “No, come on, Trevor, we talked about this already. Lillian can’t come back. She’s gone to heaven with the angels.”

  Little Trevor’s face screwed up as if he was concentrating hard and then he shrugged and nodded as if he accepted what Dave said was true.

  Dave wrapped his arms around his son and kissed the top of his head. He needed to be strong for Trevor, Sandra and the new baby. He needed somehow to get back to a normal life, but he didn’t know how. He knew he would never feel right again. A part of him would always be missing.

  Chapter 39

  As soon as Kathleen left, Babs Morton gathered up the children, took them next door and asked old Mrs. Morrison to keep an eye on them.

  She then marched straight to Martin’s club. It was still drizzling, so she pulled up the collar on her coat. With each step, she imagined stomping Martin’s face. It was quite therapeutic.

  It only took her a couple of minutes to get to the club. She didn’t often make an appearance these days, but everybody knew who she was. She marched up to the doormen, and they stood aside to let her enter.

  She didn’t even bother to look at their faces as she passed. She was just concerned about getting her hands on Martin. He was going to pay for humiliating her.

  She scanned the club, but she couldn’t see him, and then she felt a large, meaty hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Big Tim standing there. Babs gave him a stiff nod. “Evening, Tim. I need a word with Martin.”

  Tim nodded. “He’s still upstairs. He hasn’t come down yet this evening. Would you like to go up?”

  The fact that Tim was asking that question told Babs that Martin didn’t have some floozy upstairs with him right now. Now that he’d gotten Kathleen in the family way, Martin had probably dumped her and moved onto some other tart.

  “Who else is up there?”

  “Tony. They are discussing business, but I’m sure Martin won’t mind you interrupting.”

  Babs didn’t give a flying fig whether Martin minded or not.

  She pushed up her sleeves. “I’ll have a drink. Tell Martin to come down here.”

  Tim looked taken aback, but after a moment, he nodded and headed off behind the bar. He whispered Babs’ drink order to one of the barmaids and then slipped through the door to go and get Martin.

  Although the bar was already busy, people made room for Babs. They were all younger than her, Babs noted, sourly. It wasn’t like the old days where she could go into Martin’s clubs and know everyone by name. These days it was all youngsters and blaring, modern music. All that rock ’n’ roll stuff. It made Babs feel old.

  The barmaid pushed a port and lemon across the bar, and Babs thanked her and then swallowed half of it down in one gulp.

  She didn’t want to go upstairs and have this out with Martin. She wanted him to come home tonight. For once, she wanted her husband to be under the same roof as her, so the gossips would be able to see that they were still together and stronger than ever.

  It might not be true, but Babs cared about appearances. Fair or not, the woman always got sneered at if her husband strayed away from home.

  Martin appeared in the doorway behind the bar and regarded Babs warily.

  Babs gave him a tight smile, and Martin sauntered up to her. “Hello, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

  There was a time in the early days of their marriage when Martin would have been glad to see her, although that was a long time ago now. Now, when she came to visit him in the evening, he assumed something was wrong. That said it all.

  “I’d like you to come home tonight, Martin,” Babs said.

  She was well aware her voice sounded brittle, but she was doing her best to sound pleasant, even though she really wanted to throw the rest of her port and lemon in his face.

  Martin frowned. “I was planning on staying at the club. I’ll be working late tonight, and you know I don’t like to disturb you.”

  That was Martin’s way of pretending he stayed at the club every night out of consideration for Babs and the children. Even though his bloody club was just around the corner from where they lived.

  “I don’t care what time you get back, Martin,” Babs said. “Just make sure you do.”

  Martin frowned at the venom in Babs’s tone. “What’s the matter, babe? Tell me now, and we’ll sort it out.”

  Babs shook her head. There was no way she was airing their dirty linen in public. Martin could wait until he got home. Only then would she really let him have it. She’d tear strips off the bloody bastard once they were in the privacy of their own home.

  After Babs had left, Big Tim strolled up to Martin. “Is everything all right boss?”

  Martin nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Babs has just got a bee in her bonnet about something.”

  “About Kathleen Diamond? You know she’s been sniffing around recently.”

  “Nah, Babs knows all about her. As far as she’s concerned that’s all over.”

  “Anyway, I’d better get back to Tony.” Martin lowered his voice and leaned into Tim. “We’re discussing our options. Dave Carter is not on top of his game at the moment, so that means it’s the best time to exploit any weaknesses, if you know what I mean?” Martin winked at him.

  Tim nodded. “Do you need me upstairs?”

  “No, we are just bouncing around some ideas at the moment. You keep an eye on things down here, and I’ll fill you in later, all right?” Martin slapped him on the back.

  When Babs got home, she collected the children from the neighbour and then put them straight to bed. She made a pot of tea and sat down at the kitchen table.

  She poured herself a cup. She liked it strong and dark, with just a splash of milk, no sugar. She glanced at the clock and knew she was in for a long wait, but she was determined she wouldn’t go to bed before Martin came home. They were going to get this situation sorted out once and for all.

  She took a sip of tea and then lit a cigarette, rehearsing what she was going to say over and over in her mind.

  Chapter 40

  Martin came home at two in the morning. Babs ground out her cigarette in the glass ashtray and pushed the stewed cup of tea away from her.

  Her eyes felt gritty and red, but she suddenly felt awake, ready for this confrontation.

  Martin was creeping around, trying to be quiet. He obviously hoped Babs was asleep already. But he slowly eased open the door to the kitchen and then did a double take
when he saw Babs at the kitchen table.

  “Hello, Babs. Sorry, I’m so late. You didn’t have to wait up.”

  “Sit down, Martin.”

  She saw Martin’s body tense. He didn’t like being told what to do, especially not by his wife.

  But he pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table opposite her, pulling out his own packet of cigarettes and lighting one up. He offered the packet to Babs, but she shook her head. She’d been chain-smoking all evening and the last thing she needed was another cigarette.

  “What’s all this about then?” Martin asked.

  “Kathleen Diamond,” Babs said.

  “What? All that’s all over, Babs. We’ve talked about this. She didn’t mean anything to me. You know that.”

  Babs waited for a moment to see whether or not Martin would confess that he was the father of Kathleen’s baby, and admit there was a little half-brother to Ruby, Derek and Emily living only a few streets away.

  When Martin didn’t say anything, Babs shook her head.

  “And when exactly were you intending to tell me that you’d fathered a child by another woman, Martin? It’s disgusting! There’s only a few months separating Emily and that little brat.”

  Martin’s face looked like it had been set in stone. “Who the hell told you that?” he growled. “You know better than to listen to gossip, Babs.”

  “I don’t need to listen to gossip, Martin. Not when the trollop comes around to show me her bloody kid! How do you think I felt when she kneeled down to show Ruby her half-brother?”

  Martin shot up, knocking the chair back onto the floor with a clatter. “She did what?” he roared.

  “Quiet!” Babs ordered. “You’ll wake the children, and they’ve had quite enough disruption for one day.”

  Martin’s eyes were wild as he clenched his fists by his side. He’d obviously expected to be able to sweep this one under the carpet, and he didn’t much like Kathleen showing any backbone.

  “I don’t believe it,” he muttered to himself.

  “Well, you’d better believe it. She came to visit me early this evening. All the neighbours saw her. She is after money Martin. She says the baby is yours, and she wants you to support it. What I want to know is, what are you going to do about it?”

  Martin, who had been angrily staring out of the kitchen window, turned slowly to face Babs. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “I want you to get rid of her! Send her and that baby off somewhere. I don’t want Ruby, Derek and Emily growing up with a little half-brother not five minutes’ walk away.”

  Martin curled his lip in disgust. “I’ll sort it.”

  “You’d better, Martin. I’m warning you. I’ve had enough. I’ve had it up to here with your antics.”

  “Give it a rest. You’re lucky to have me, and you know it. All you do all day is sit on your backside, or go out shopping. You’d be nothing without me. You’ve got it easy Babs, and you know it!”

  Babs folded her arms across her chest and stared at Martin with hatred. How could she ever have fallen for this man? Where had the charming, good-looking man she’d married disappeared to?

  Martin always tried to win arguments this way. When he was at fault, he would just try and turn the argument around to something he could win.

  Well, Babs wasn’t about to let him get away with it that easily. “I want to know what you’re going to do about it, Martin.”

  “I said I would sort it, didn’t I? And I will.” Martin turned around. “I’m going back to the club. I can’t stay here tonight.”

  He began to walk down the hallway towards the front door.

  “Just you make sure you sort this out like you promised, Martin. Otherwise, I’m going to make you pay.”

  Martin chuckled cruelly as he picked up his coat from the coat stand. “You’ll make me pay? Don’t make me laugh, Babs. You can’t do a bleeding thing about it. Just you remember that before you start mouthing off next time.”

  After Martin stormed out and slammed the door behind him, Babs leaned against the wall. “Oh, you’d be surprised, Martin,” she muttered to herself. “You’d be surprised just how much I could make you suffer.”

  Chapter 41

  Furious, Martin stormed back to the club. He was damned if he was going to stand around and listen to Babs go on at him about something he’d finished ages ago.

  It wasn’t his fault if that daft cow, Kathleen, wasn’t sensible enough to avoid getting herself in the family way. Babs was being completely unreasonable.

  The club was closed when Martin let himself in the front door. All the punters had long gone, even his bar staff had cleaned up and finished for the night. All the glasses had been collected and washed, ready for the next day, but the floor was still sticky under his feet.

  Martin made his way behind the bar and reached for a bottle of whisky. He poured himself a generous measure and downed it.

  He was going to make sure that little bitch never crossed him again. He poured himself another whisky, tucked the bottle under his arm, made his way to the doorway at the back of the bar and started climbing the stairs to his flat.

  He was a couple of steps from the top when he heard a noise.

  There was some bastard in there!

  This was Martin’s flat. It was his domain. Who the hell would have had the nerve not only to break into Martin Morton’s club, but to actually get into his private living space, too?

  Martin was in no mood to be crossed tonight. He was going to show the cheeky bastard what for.

  He flung open the door, holding the bottle of whisky by the neck, ready to smash it down on whoever had the nerve to break into his property.

  He stalked down the corridor, but the main living space was empty. Then a noise caught his attention, and the door to the spare bedroom door opened. Martin whirled around and held up the bottle of Scotch.

  “All right bruv,” Tony said, grinning at him. He didn’t have a shirt on, and his trousers were slung low on his hips, showing off the body he was so proud of.

  Martin gritted his teeth, but he lowered the bottle of whisky. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he asked his brother.

  Tony gave a shrug and another grin. “Entertaining.”

  Martin looked over Tony’s shoulder and could just make out a woman hiding in the shadows in the bedroom.

  Martin turned his back on Tony and walked back towards the open plan living area and sat down on the sofa.

  Tony followed him.

  “And what is wrong with your gaffe?” Martin said pointedly.

  “That’s where Melinda is. She’s moved in. I could hardly take this one back there, could I?” Tony whispered.

  Martin shook his head at the sheer nerve of his brother.

  Tony had a flat above the bookies on Titan Street because Martin paid the rent. Up until a year ago, Tony was still living at home with his mother, and Violet Morton still hadn’t forgiven her eldest son for helping her youngest boy move out.

  “What are you doing back here anyway? I thought you were back at the house with Babs tonight?” Tony asked reaching for the bottle of whisky and then rummaging around in the kitchenette for a glass.

  “Above the sink,” Martin said, pointing to where he kept glasses. “And don’t talk to me about that bloody pain in the arse.”

  “Babs?”

  “The woman’s got a screw loose. She got me to go home just so she could have a go at me about getting Kathleen Diamond up the duff.”

  Tony spluttered a laugh and then covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry, bruv. Did you really get her pregnant? Blimey. No wonder Babs is giving you a hard time.”

  Martin shot Tony a dark look, snatched the bottle from his brother and poured himself another whisky. “Babs thinks she can tell me what to do. It’s a joke. All this time I’ve spent building up my reputation in the East End, and two women think they can take me on and make a fool of me? They’ve got another think coming.”
>
  Tony frowned. He liked Babs. She was a good woman, and in Tony’s opinion, she put up with a lot from Martin.

  “I don’t think Babs is trying to play you, Martin. I imagine she’s just a bit hurt.”

  Martin looked at his brother as if he’d grown two heads.

  “Well, I can’t do much about Babs because I’m married to the silly mare. But Kathleen Diamond is going to regret she ever met me.”

  “And what about the kid?”

  Martin sneered. “What about it? How do I know it’s even mine? She probably dropped her knickers for every Tom, Dick and Harry. I’m not being conned. I bunged her a few quid while she was pregnant to keep her quiet, but she’s gone back on her word. She went to Babs and told her all about it.”

  Tony gave a low whistle. “The girl has got some nerve.”

  Martin shook his head. “Cheeky bitch. She’s going to regret it. I promise you that.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Martin stared down into his glass of whisky, swirling the glass and watching the amber liquid glitter in the light. “I’m going to make sure she never bothers me again, bruv.”

  Martin gave a cruel smile, distorting his handsome features, and then he raised his glass of whisky to his brother in a toast.

  “Here’s to getting rid of meddlesome bitches.”

  Tony raised his own glass and clinked it against his brother’s. “Right you are. Now, do you mind if I get back to my lady?” he asked, nodding at the spare bedroom.

  Martin shook his head. “Go right ahead. I suppose I should at least be thankful you had the decency to not use my own bed.”

  Tony got up with a grin and headed back to the woman he’d left in the bedroom, while Martin nursed his drink.

  He didn’t mind being left alone. It gave him more time to plot his revenge. Kathleen bloody Diamond was going to pay for this.

  Chapter 42