by Sam Michaels
Johnny knocked on the door as Charlotte came through from the kitchen, her face ashen.
‘Don’t look so worried, it’s only Johnny.’
‘Thank gawd for that,’ Charlotte muttered and went to let him in.
‘Don’t let on that I’m here. I want to surprise him,’ Georgina called. She sat casually on the sofa but her excitement was mounting. Johnny had been her right-hand man and she’d openly admit how fond she was of him.
He strolled into the room, the smell of his cigar wafting in with him. As he removed his hat, his eyes set on Georgina and he gasped, stepping backwards in surprise.
‘Hello, Johnny,’ she said, her face beaming with delight.
‘Pinch me, Charlotte… am I dreaming?’
‘No, Johnny, you ain’t dreaming,’ Charlotte replied, chuckling.
‘Miss Garrett, I never thought I’d see the day!’ he said, walking towards her now with his arms outstretched.
Georgina rose to her feet and returned his embrace, albeit briefly. ‘You’re looking pretty dapper, unlike me, dressed like a workhand.’
‘It don’t matter what you’re wearing, you’re still a sight for sore eyes. Why didn’t you tell us they were letting you out early? We would have picked you up and arranged a party. Cor blimey, wait ’til the rest of ’em hear you’re back. They’re gonna be chuffed to bits.’
‘Slow down, Johnny, I didn’t get let out early.’
‘What are you on about? You’re here, ain’t ya?’
‘Yes, but not with permission.’
‘Bleedin’ ’ell, have you escaped?’
Georgina nodded her head and Johnny looked impressed. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t break out sooner,’ he said and guffawed.
‘I had to wait for my chance.’
‘What’s the plan now? Are we setting up business again? You know I’ll be more than happy to work for you and so will some of the blokes.’
‘Not just yet. I need to see my children first. They’re in Wales and I want you to drive me there. We’ll set off first thing in the morning.’
‘Anything you say, Miss Garrett.’
‘In the meantime, Charlotte can make us a cuppa and you can tell me all about what’s been going on and everything you know about The Top.’
Georgina listened intently but Johnny didn’t impart much more information than she already knew. ‘And you’re sure that it was him who killed David and Victor?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, I’m sorry but I’m convinced The Top is behind it. I don’t see how else he could have just walked in and taken over. I reckon it was all planned when Mr Maynard was laid up in hospital. The Top attacked when he saw his opportunity.’
‘Don’t you think it’s strange that no one knows anything about the man apart from the fact that he’s Irish and has connections with the IRA?’
‘Fuck knows, Miss Garrett. I did some digging and from what I can make out, the geezer used to sell to David and wanted a cut of the London action. Only he wanted a bigger cut than Mr Maynard was prepared to offer. So he took the fucking lot. Now he’s got a few familiar faces round him. Slugs knows him but he ain’t saying nothing.’
‘Blimey, there’s a name I haven’t heard of in years. Do you think Slugs would talk for money?’
‘No, I doubt it. He took a bullet for the man so I doubt he’d be persuaded to talk, even for a good handshake.’
‘What about his protection? Surely one of them could be bought?’
‘I don’t think so, Miss Garrett. They don’t seem like the talking sort, if you know what I mean.’
Georgina was left to ponder The Top while Johnny told her about turning over the illegal brewing company.
‘This is for you, Charlotte, and your cut, Miss Garrett,’ he said, offering her a wad of notes.
Georgina looked at the cash. She needed it. She needed every penny she could get her hands on, but she hadn’t earned this money. ‘Thanks, Johnny, but that’s yours,’ she said.
‘No,’ he protested, ‘Rules are rules. You always get a cut of any jobs.’
‘I used to get a cut.’
‘I’ll leave it on the side for you,’ Johnny insisted. ‘I’ve gotta get going now but I’ll be back first thing. Cor, I can’t wait to tell the others you’re back.’
Georgina didn’t need to remind Johnny to be careful about who he spoke to of her return to Battersea. Her most trusted man wasn’t stupid and she knew he wouldn’t put her at risk of being captured by the authorities. And she had to admit, though she’d thought she wouldn’t get involved again with heading up the criminal gang, the idea of it thrilled her. If she was honest with herself, she was in dire need of the money too. Being on the run wasn’t going to be cheap. She’d need cash to buy favours and silence. But, for now, she just wanted to hold Selina and Alfie close to her.
*
The wireless on the sideboard blared out. Charlotte wished she could switch it off and tried to ignore it, but it was impossible not to hear the news bulletins of soldiers, invasions, cities and countries under attack. The assault on her ears would trigger the horrendous memories she’d sooner forget. She thought of the kind fire warden she’d encountered, his head blown off, and how she’d had a one-sided conversation with him. God, it was awful. She shook her head, trying to shake the image away, and pulled a brush through her hair before pinching her cheeks to give them a bit of colour.
‘You look lovely,’ Georgina said, sitting on the sofa behind her.
Charlotte stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘No, I don’t. I look plain and boring. I dunno what Tim sees in me,’ she said, thinking out loud.
‘Well, for someone who isn’t interested in going out with him, you seem to be worrying quite a bit about what you look like.’
Charlotte turned away from the mirror and threw herself onto the armchair. Georgina had a point. If she wasn’t bothered about Tim, why did she have butterflies in her stomach? ‘I’m just nervous ’cos I don’t want to mess it up. If I get this wrong, you could end up back behind bars.’
‘That’s not going to happen and you’re not going to mess it up.’
‘Thanks,’ she answered, grateful for Georgina’s confidence in her.
Her stomach flipped at a sudden knock on the door. It wasn’t time for her date, so she guessed it was probably her upstairs neighbour. ‘That’ll be Lord Hamilton. Brace yourself, he’s quite a character.’
‘Are you sure we can trust him?’
‘Yep, he’s always wanted to meet you, and when it comes to the law, he’s as dodgy as the day is long.’
When Charlotte ushered him into the front room, she could see Georgina was trying to keep a straight face. In his burgundy, silk house coat, cream cravat and curled moustache, he looked like he should be walking the corridors of a stately home.
‘Miss Garrett, what an absolute delight to finally meet you,’ he said, sweeping across the room to take her hand and hold it to his lips. ‘I’ve heard much about you.’
‘Likewise,’ Georgina answered, ‘Charlotte talks very highly of you.’
‘I’m flattered but I can assure you that her gracious compliments of me are unfounded. You, on the other hand, are far more beautiful than I had imagined. And I must say, I’m terribly excited to be in the presence of such an accomplished woman and one who has defied the authorities. That, my dear, deserves a toast and I’ve brought you a bottle of the finest champagne.’
Charlotte held the bottle aloft for Georgina to see before going to the kitchen to fetch glasses. She didn’t have any champagne flutes, tumblers would have to do. And she only had two glass tumblers but didn’t mind drinking her champagne from a cup.
Back in the front room, Lord Hamilton and Georgina appeared to be getting on well. He was telling her his usual tales of rubbing shoulders with royalty and Georgina was pretending to be impressed.
Charlotte popped the cork and poured the champagne, hoping that a glass of bubbly would
calm her nerves about her impending date with Tim. She glanced at the clock again. Only fifteen minutes to go.
‘You look as if you’re going somewhere?’ Lord Hamilton questioned with a raised eyebrow as she handed him a glass.
‘I am,’ she answered.
‘She’s going on a date with PC Timothy Batten,’ Georgina told him.
‘Goodness gracious me! Well, this is a day full of surprises!’
‘I’m only going out with him ’cos Georgina thinks it would be a good idea.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Lord Hamilton said thoughtfully, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’
‘Indeed,’ Georgina agreed and held her glass in the air, asking, ‘What are we toasting?’
‘To new friends and freedom,’ Lord Hamilton said and they all clinked glasses.
The knock on the door came sooner than Charlotte had expected and Dog bounded towards it, barking. Charlotte gulped down the champagne in her cup. The bubbles caused her to loudly belch as she gathered her coat and bag. Glancing over her shoulder as she went towards the door, she saw Georgina with her finger over her lips, reminding Lord Hamilton to be silent.
After dragging Dog back into the front room and closing the door, Charlotte drew in a long breath ready to greet Tim. ‘Hello,’ she said, shyly. ‘I’m ready to go.’
‘You’ve left the wireless on.’
‘Yeah, it’s company for Dog,’ she answered quickly, pulling her coat on and shutting the front door behind them with urgency. She walked past Tim and out onto the street where he caught her up and marched alongside her.
‘You must be hungry, you seem in a hurry.’
‘Sorry,’ she said and slowed her pace. ‘It’s cold, a brisk walk warms you up.’
‘Yes, it does, but I’m used to being out on the streets in the cold.’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, realising she could be walking in the wrong direction.
‘I wasn’t sure what you like, but as it’s one of the meals that Churchill hasn’t rationed, I thought fish and chips.’
‘Smashing, my favourite, especially from Shooters. They cook their chips in beef dripping and you can buy a bag of crackly bits.’
‘Oh, I was going to take you to a little restaurant on York Road but if you prefer to go to Shooters?’
‘No, the restaurant will be fine, I’m sure,’ Charlotte answered, a little anxious but looking forward to the experience. She’d never been in a restaurant before. She’d had hot chocolate once in a café with Daphne, a posh woman who’d later turned her nose up at her. Another memory she tried to push aside.
The temperature outside was rapidly cooling and Charlotte picked up her pace again, Tim keeping up beside her. ‘It’s chilly this evening,’ she said, pulling a pair of knitted gloves from her coat pockets and shoving her hands inside them.
‘We might have a white Christmas.’
Charlotte looked up at the sky and though the sun had set, there wasn’t a star in sight, masked by the clouds. Not even the moon offered any illumination on the blacked-out streets of London. ‘Maybe,’ she mused.
‘Are you going anywhere for Christmas?’
‘No, probably not,’ she answered. She knew she wouldn’t be welcomed by her mother at Molly’s farm. But now Georgina was home, she had no desire to go to Kent anyway.
‘I’ll probably go to my sister’s. She does a good spread, even with the rations. You could come too, if you like?’
‘Oh… thanks, but I’ll be fine at home. Lord Hamilton will insist on keeping me company. He did last year. In fact, we had quite a hoot.’
‘I’ve only met him briefly in passing and haven’t seen Miss Gray yet. The other lady, the blonde one, I saw her out of my window but we haven’t spoken.’
‘You’ll be lucky to get more than a few words out of Dina. We’re a funny bunch in that big house, a right mixture.’
‘I know you said you’d changed your mind about me moving out but I still don’t know if I feel right about staying, not when I know there are families desperate for housing.’
‘I hope you will,’ Charlotte said and, strangely, she felt sincere in saying it.
‘If you really want me to stay, then I will,’ he said and looked down at her.
Their eyes met and she felt those butterflies again. You’re only using him she reminded herself. Don’t fall for a copper.
‘Have you always wanted to be a policeman?’ she probed.
‘No, not at all. My dad pushed me into it. He was a copper but got injured and had to leave the force.’
‘Oh, blimey. How did he get injured?’
‘You probably won’t remember it but it was when the police station got blown up.’
‘I remember hearing about it,’ she answered, cringing inside. Georgina had never admitted it but it was rumoured that she’d been behind the explosion. This wasn’t going well. Tim was unlikely to want to help protect Georgina if he had an inkling that it was her fault his dad had been hurt.
‘It killed a few policemen but they never caught the bloke who did it. I suppose my dad was lucky to have only been injured… unfortunately.’
‘What do you mean, unfortunately?’ she asked, thinking this was sounding more promising!
‘Oh, nothing, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘But you did. Don’t you get on with your dad then?’
‘No, far from it. He’s not a nice man, Charlotte. Suffice to say, since joining the force I’ve heard things about him that I couldn’t repeat in front of a lady.’
‘You can tell me. I ain’t no lady.’
‘No, I couldn’t and I wouldn’t want to. I’m ashamed of him and the heinous things he’s done. I’m just glad my mum isn’t around anymore, God rest her soul. I dread to think what she must have put up with from him and whatever she knew about him went with her to her grave. Now, let’s change the subject, I’d rather not talk about him. What about you… how did you come to look after that big house?’
Charlotte’s mind raced for an answer. She couldn’t tell him that Georgina owned it but Mr Harel had arranged for the name on the deeds to be changed to her son’s, Alfred Hearn. But she was saved from finding an answer when they heard bells from vehicles racing towards them from behind.
Tim stopped to look. ‘I wonder what’s going on?’ he said as several fire brigade engines passed and two police cars. ‘It must be a major incident.’
‘I dunno, Tim, but I don’t like the look of this,’ she said, her pulse quickening.
The vehicles sped in the direction they were walking and Charlotte had the urge to turn around and run home. ‘We should head back,’ she said, ‘Something’s not right.’
‘I might be needed. Come on, let’s hurry,’ he replied, grabbing her hand and dragging her along.
Charlotte snatched her hand away from his. ‘No,’ she shouted. ‘There’s something bad going on up there. I want to go home.’
‘Please, Charlotte, I can’t turn my back on people who may need my help. Let’s just go and see what the problem is. I’ll look after you, I promise.’
Against all her instincts, she reluctantly rushed towards where the vehicles were going, all the while questioning her sanity. The engines and cars had stopped on the corner of a side road and even in the darkness, Charlotte could see a large crowd had gathered.
‘What’s happened?’ Tim asked a bystander.
The man animatedly explained, ‘They’ve found an unexploded bomb behind the wall of the factory there. Gotta be at least a five hundred pounder. It ain’t a Satan but it’s a big ’un.’
Charlotte, terrified at the news, tugged on Tim’s arm. ‘Please, take me home,’ she said, panicking.
‘It’s all right, Charlotte, the bomb disposal unit will be here soon to deal with it. But let me help clear all these people away, just in case the thing goes off.’
The thought of standing so close to a bomb and being caught up in the blast was too much for her to bear. ‘Plea
se, Tim,’ she begged, tears streaking down her face now.
He grabbed her shoulders firmly. ‘Just do as I say and everything will be fine,’ he told her and led her along the road and into a shop doorway. ‘You’ll be safe here. Just wait ten minutes for me. I’m going to move those people on and then I’ll be back. Understand?’
She nodded, her imagination running havoc – she was now too petrified to move or speak. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the awful memories from flooding in, and when she opened them again, Tim was gone. Closing her eyes again, she counted out loud. ‘One… two… three… four…’
The sound of more vehicles with their bells ringing loudly passed her. ‘Five… six…’ Men yelling ‘Stand back, stand back.’ ‘Seven… eight…’ She never reached nine. A terrific booming noise filled the air and she felt a gush of air lift her skirt. Her cheeks stung as fragments of flying debris hit her face. Charlotte’s legs gave way and she dropped to the ground, fear rendering her unable to open her eyes. She was on her knees, trying to scramble back to her feet but her legs had no strength to support her and she staggered sideways, dropping back to her knees. Still with her eyes closed, her nostrils twitched at the smell of explosives, fire and burning bodies. And then the waft of brick dust and plaster began clogging her nose.
‘No, no, no,’ she screamed, well aware of the devastation she would see if she dared to open her eyes. She recognised the stench of death in the air. And the screams of pain from women and men with mutilated bodies. The harrowing shout of a mother looking for her child. The muted cry for help from under rubble. Her body violently trembled uncontrollably from head to toe. She heard a long, tormenting, low howl and realised it was coming from her own lips.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ A man’s voice in the madness asked and she felt hands around her waist, pulling her to her feet. Still, she refused to open her eyes.
‘Miss… miss… are you hurt?’
She managed to quieten herself and shook her head.
‘Come, sit here,’ the voice said.
She was led a few steps and could hear the sound of shattered glass underfoot. The man lowered her down, onto a doorstep, she assumed. ‘You’ll be all right here,’ the kind voice said.
