by June Tate
He kissed her. ‘I’ll see you. Take care,’ he said and watched her walk to the door. She turned and waved, blowing him a kiss, then left.
Johnny sank into a chair. George Coleman walked in with two glasses of brandy. ‘Here, you probably need this more than I do,’ he said. ‘Now, let the games begin!’
Twenty-Two
Although Johnny was sad to see Victoria go, he was relieved. Now he could concentrate on the task before him, knowing that his father would be plotting some plan or other to get even. He added further securities around his warehouse, putting guards on a twenty-four hour watch. He didn’t want anyone messing with his equipment and building materials. When he was at his office, George’s man sat outside his door. He was certain now he’d covered all the bases . . . and he waited.
A few days later, he went to examine some work on a chimney that had been rebuilt. It was a policy of his to check out all finished work before sending his client the bill. His men were totally reliable, but he was a perfectionist, leaving nothing to chance. As usual, he was accompanied by a bodyguard.
When they arrived at the house in question, Johnny picked up the extension ladder that he’d asked to be left for him to make his inspection. He instructed his man to stand at the bottom as a safety precaution and he started to climb. He reached the roof and climbed carefully over the tiles until he was alongside the chimney. As he expected, the men had done a good job and, being satisfied, he slid slowly back to the ladder ready to climb down. He’d only put his foot on the third rung when suddenly it slipped, taking him with it. Johnny managed to grab hold of the sides as he plummeted downwards. It stopped with a shudder, throwing him off. It was pure luck and brute strength that saved him. The man beneath him was thrown backwards on to the ground, with Johnny tumbling on top of him.
Both men sat up, shaken and shocked by the accident.
Johnny was the first to recover. ‘You all right?’ he asked, slowly moving all his limbs to see if he was injured. His ankle hurt, but appeared not to be broken, but it had already started to swell.
The man got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his thigh. ‘Bloody hell, guv’nor, you could have been killed, or at least badly injured. What the hell happened?’
Now on his own feet, Johnny limped away and said, ‘I don’t know but I’m damned well going to find out!’ He picked up the ladder and examined it carefully. He found the screws holding the extended part had been loosened. When he’d climbed to the top, then started his downward journey, he must have moved the ladder enough to unhinge them altogether. Whoever had done this was well aware of his practice of checking out the work and had bided their time until Johnny was due to make his inspection. Only one such person would be responsible and he knew that his father had made the first move.
When he returned to the club that evening, Johnny told George Coleman what had happened.
‘You all right?’ asked George.
‘I sprained my ankle. I went to the outpatients department to check it wasn’t broken, they bound it up for me after taking an X-ray. Apart from that we both had a lucky escape.’
‘Your old man is a bad bugger. You’re his own flesh and blood for Christ’s sake!’
With a shrug of his shoulders Johnny said, ‘That means nothing to him, he’d sell his own mother if need be, but I am glad that Victoria is now out of harm’s way, because, after today, I’m not sure just how far he would go.’
Frowning, George agreed. ‘Well, she’s in safe hands, Bruce rang to tell me she and the other wives had arrived safely. Now what sort of damage limitation have you arranged?’
Johnny told him about safeguarding the warehouse holding his materials. ‘And of course your men are with me at home. In any case, I’ve added to my personal security.’
George glared at him. ‘You haven’t been foolish enough to tool up have you? Tell me you haven’t.’
Johnny didn’t hesitate to answer. ‘To be honest, the thought crossed my mind, but no, guns would be foolish, but I have a large cosh by my bed – just in case.’
George gave a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God for that! I don’t want to see you go down even if you were protecting yourself. But be vigilant, your old man has declared war. However, I’ve made a few phone calls and soon his little gang will be depleted. Money talks, lad. Especially when the boss is inside.’ He smiled slyly. You know the old saying, “when the cat’s away, the mice will play?” Well, a few are looking at other options. It’ll just take time, that’s all.’
‘You’re a wily old bird, George Coleman,’ said Johnny, grinning broadly.
The other man winked at him. ‘I know the odd trick or two my son. Between us we’ll beat that old bastard!’
Whilst all this mayhem was happening, Victoria had arrived in Malta and was now ensconced with Bruce in an apartment. He had rented it when George and he had arranged for Victoria’s visit.
‘I of course do have my own quarters at the base,’ he told her, ‘but I can always sleep in the spare room, to keep you company.’
‘Won’t that give cause to local gossip?’ she asked with a smile. ‘I don’t want to be the cause of you losing your good name, Captain Chapman.’
He laughed. ‘Things out here are pretty casual when it comes to private lives, darling. In fact, who knows, it could add to my credibility.’
‘You know, Bruce, I can’t thank you enough for stepping into the breach like this.’
‘Didn’t I tell you before I left, that if you needed a bolt hole, I was here?’
Her eyes clouded with sadness. ‘You did, but never in a million years did I think I would need one and if Johnny and my family hadn’t insisted and said I would only add to his troubles by staying, I wouldn’t be here now.’
‘Is Johnny in real danger do you think?’
‘I’m very much afraid so. I met his father once; he is without feeling except for anger and revenge! He’d have plenty of that, but George promised me he’d watch out for Johnny.’
He took her hands in his. ‘You really love him, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Bruce, with every fibre of my body.’
‘Then he’s a lucky man. Come on, let’s take a walk. I’ll show you Valletta, you might as well see where your father came from.’
Victoria was sad to see the devastation of her father’s home town. Valletta was a port that was integral to the British Empire during the war. Unless they captured Malta, the Axis would lose control of North Africa, which is why the Germans had laid siege to it. The port had suffered as many as four air raids a day by the Luftwaffe but had managed to survive – just. Because of this, King George VI had awarded the island the George Cross. The government had donated thirty million pounds to compensate the Maltese for the extensive war damage and, looking around, Victoria felt they would need every penny.
‘I’m pleased my dad isn’t alive to see this,’ she said to Bruce as they walked around, ‘because I’m sure it would break his heart.’
‘Well, darling, the Blitz on Southampton didn’t break yours,’ he reminded her. ‘After all, it’s what happens in a war, people just get on with it. Malta and all of England will rise from the ashes like the phoenix and rebuild itself. It will just take time.’
They stopped for a coffee at a cafe overlooking the harbour. In peacetime it would have been full of yachts but today it gave a home to an array of naval vessels. The war may be over, but she couldn’t help but feel that it would be some time before all signs of the conflict would be a thing of the past. As they sat talking, Victoria’s mind was miles away. She wondered what was happening in Southampton to Johnny.
When they returned to the apartment, she immediately rang George at the club for the latest news. Victoria listened as George Coleman gave her all the details of Johnny’s lucky escape. She was horrified. ‘Is he hurt?’
‘No, love, just bruised. He has sprained an ankle but he’s fine, really.’
‘What’s going to happen next, George? His father won’t be satisfied unt
il he feels he’s paid him back. How far do you think he’ll go, is Johnny’s life in danger do you think?’
‘No, Victoria.’ George lied. ‘I don’t think he’ll go that far. He just wants to teach him a lesson, that’s all.’
‘I wish I was there,’ she said. ‘I can’t bear being so far away. My place is with him.’
‘No, Victoria, it isn’t. Johnny will be able to cope with whatever the old man throws at him if he doesn’t have to worry about you! Now promise me you won’t do anything foolish, like come home . . . not yet a while anyway.’
She reluctantly agreed and had to make the same promise to her lover when she spoke to him later that evening.
‘I miss you, darling,’ he told her, ‘but at least I can relax knowing you are out of harm’s way. At least I hope you are!’ he teased, trying to make light of the subject. ‘I hope that sailor is keeping his hands to himself.’
‘Bruce is being a gentleman,’ she told him. ‘He’s put me in an apartment here in Valletta. You would be sad to see all the war damage but, beneath it all, you can see what a lovely place it was and will be again, later when the debris has been cleared and the town rebuilt, like Southampton.’ She sighed deeply. ‘But I don’t want to be here. I just want to be held by you, to feel the warmth of you – to be close to you.’
‘I know, sweetheart, and soon you will be, I promise. Now you take care. I’ll talk to you soon.’
Three days later, when Bruce was at the base, Victoria went out into the town. Being here was such an opportunity to try and understand her father and his background. She eventually found her way to the local cemetery, with a little help from a couple of the locals directing her. She was amazed at how beautiful it was. All the graves were cared for and bedecked with flowers and some of the gravestones had photographs of the person who was buried there. It didn’t seem a bit macabre and in her mind she couldn’t help but compare it to the soulless cemetery in Southampton.
The sun was warm and she wandered around reading the headstones, looking at the photos until, to her surprise, she saw the name Teglia on one and stopped to read the carving
Antonio Teglia. Beloved husband and father of Vittorio and Theresa. Her breath caught in her throat. This was her grandfather and her own father had a sister. She wondered why she had never been mentioned until she saw the headstone next to the grave.
Theresa Teglia. Beloved daughter. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at the dates. Theresa was only three years old when she passed away. How very sad. But at least she would have known her father for a few short years. She suddenly felt bereft and had to walk away.
Eventually she found herself in a square which enclosed a lawn. On a bench beneath a large tree sat an elderly woman, sheltering from the heat. Victoria walked over to her.
She gestured to the seat and asked, ‘May I sit here?’ Not knowing if the woman spoke English.
‘Please do.’ She moved along. ‘Are you one of the naval wives?’ she asked in perfect English.
Smiling, Victoria said, ‘No. But I’m staying with someone from the base.’ Looking around she said, ‘My father was born here. I try to picture him running around as a small child.’
The woman became interested. ‘Really? What was his name? Only, I was a teacher at the local school, perhaps he was a pupil of mine.’
‘Vittorio Teglia,’ said Victoria, hopefully.
The woman looked closely at her. ‘You are very like your father to look at, my dear.’
‘You knew him?’ Victoria was delighted.
‘Oh yes, he was one of my favourite pupils, so hungry to learn. We used to study pictures of art together. He had a good eye.’ She smiled softly as she remembered. ‘He had a burning ambition to learn and to do well. But he was a tough little boy, never ran away from a fight – always stood his ground.’
‘He died just after I was born,’ Victoria told her, ‘so sadly I never knew him. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to me.’ She omitted the murky past of her father, not wanting to dispel the picture the teacher had of Vittorio as a boy.
‘The family left here, although I believe his parents returned much later. Sadly I never knew what happened to him. He had a good heart, but I always admired that bit of steel that was his backbone. I always thought it would see him through anything.’ She studied Victoria. ‘I would say you take after him, you have that same look of determination about you.’
Victoria laughed. ‘Well, I can be stubborn!’
‘That’s character, you, too, can stand your ground, I imagine?’
Victoria was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Yes, you’re right. I don’t usually run away from difficulties, it’s not my style.’
‘Good for you!’ The woman gingerly got to her feet and held out her hand. ‘Your father would be very proud of you, I’m sure. It was lovely to meet you, I hope we meet again.’
But as she was left alone, Victoria muttered to herself, ‘I doubt that – I’m going home.’
It was visiting day at Wandsworth Prison and Jack Mills was giving his report to his boss.
‘I got talking to one of his men in his local pub. He told me he was about to finish his work and was saying how his boss always checked every job and he’d had to leave a ladder for him to climb up to the chimney.’ He grinned. ‘It’s amazing how people will talk over a glass of beer.’
‘So what happened?’ Pat interrupted.
‘I fixed the ladder he would use,’ he said, ‘loosened the screws so when he used it, it would collapse.’
Pat raised his eyebrows, ‘And?’
‘He was bloody lucky, guv. He came hurtling down, but managed to grab hold of something as he fell. It was difficult to see from where I was hiding.’
‘Was he injured?’
‘He was limping, but how he didn’t seriously injure himself, I’ll never know.’
Pat Daniels cursed beneath his breath. ‘Not good enough. Now, here’s what I want you to do.’
Sandy was making his usual round of the pubs the following evening, chatting with old friends. When he’d arrived at The Lord Roberts in the Ditches, they’d persuaded him to give them a tune on the piano as he used to do in days gone by. Feeling in a mellow mood, he agreed. It was during his little performance he looked up as the door opened and recognized Jack Mills, Pat Daniels’ man. He kept playing but remained vigilant as he did so. A little later, Mills was joined by another man Sandy didn’t recognize. The two of them sat together, deep in conversation. Eventually they left together without Mills noticing who was at the piano.
Sandy made his excuses and followed them.
They stopped just below the Horse and Groom and Sandy took cover in the doorway of one of the shops. The stranger took something from inside his coat and handed it over, then walked away.
The Ditches is not well lit at night and Sandy was unable to see what it was the Mills stowed away inside his pocket before he, too, left the vicinity. But Sandy was worried. Jack Mills was an evil man with a record for grievous bodily harm among other things and if he was in Southampton, he was here for a reason and that had to be Johnny Daniels. Sandy hurried off to the Club Valletta to report to George Coleman.
‘What did this other bloke look like?’ demanded George.
Sandy described him thoroughly having studied him carefully whilst he played the piano. He even noticed the heavy ring the man wore on his right hand.
As soon as he did so, George knew who he was talking about.
‘That was Alf Russell, without a doubt. That ring has caused a facial injury in many a fight,’ he told Sandy. ‘This is not good news, my friend. He deals in firepower. Jack Mills is now tooled up and, if I guess right, with a weapon that’s untraceable. Daniels is about to have his son removed permanently.’
‘Jesus Christ! George, would he do that?’
The other man shrugged. ‘Everything points to it.’
‘So what do we do, call the police?’
‘And tell them what? You didn�
��t actually see a weapon; we have no proof that Mills is planning a murder. We’ve got nothing but supposition. They would want proof. We have nothing!’
‘Well we can’t just stand by and let it happen!’ Sandy was outraged.
‘Who said we would?’
Sandy was intrigued. ‘What had you in mind?’
Twenty-Three
‘What do you mean you want to go home?’ Bruce was astonished at Victoria’s request. ‘You’ve been told that it might not be safe and that Johnny wants you to stay here.’ He paced up and down. ‘I can’t help you to walk back into danger, how could you even ask such a thing?’
‘I’m sorry, Bruce. I know I’m putting you in an impossible position, but I have to go. The Orontes sails in a couple of days, please get me a berth. If you don’t I’ll stow away. I’ve got to go home.’
Bruce saw the determination etched on her face and, knowing her as well as he did, knew that no argument on his part would sway her from her decision.
‘I think you’re absolutely crazy!’ he cried.
‘But you always knew that, Bruce. You always said it was one of the things about me that you liked.’
He shook his head. ‘But, Victoria, darling, this is madness.’
‘Yes it is, but I have to go. Please, Bruce, say you’ll help me. I’ve no one else to turn to.’
‘You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met! And I know that once you’ve made up your mind, you will never listen to reason!’
Her face lit up with relief. ‘Does that mean you’ll do it?’
‘I’ll try, but I don’t like it and if anything happens to you, I’ll never be able to live with myself.’
She flung herself into his arms. ‘Oh, darling Bruce, I do love you!’
‘But not enough, sadly. Oh, Victoria, what am I going to do with you?’
‘Trust me, I’m not stupid. I know the dangers; believe me I can take care of myself.’ She chuckled, ‘I wasn’t in the navy without learning about survival you know.’
‘Oh, if only Johnny Daniels knew what he was taking on with you, he’d run a mile!’ was his only retort.
