A Promise Between Friends

by Carol Rivers

  Ruby shook her head. ‘Just put it by for a rainy day. Or treat yourself to something up the shops.’ She had insisted she repay Nick from her wages. He’d agreed, but added with a rueful smile the £5 would doubtless be covered in her very first commission. Ruby couldn’t quite believe that was true. But she intended to stick to her principles.

  ‘Oh, by the way, ducks,’ Maggs said as Ruby was about to leave. ‘Your friend Bernie called yesterday to see you. I told him you was up the West End shopping with Mr Brandon. I asked him if he wanted to wait till you came back, but he hopped it.’

  ‘Did he say what he wanted?’

  ‘No. Just that he’d call again.’

  ‘Did you tell him I’d got a new job?’

  ‘No,’ Maggs said firmly. ‘It wasn’t up to me to say.’

  Ruby didn’t want Bernie turning up at the warehouse. But he’d have to know sooner or later where she was working and who she was working for. This was news she had saved to tell Kath. As her best friend Kath was entitled to be the first to know. So yesterday, she’d asked Nick to stop the car outside Kath’s flat where she’d left a letter to explain what had happened. There was even a telephone at the warehouse, so Ruby had given her the number to call.

  ‘If he stops by again, Maggs, tell him I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘All right, I will.’ Maggs held out her dirty hands from the fire she had been making up. ‘I’d give yer a kiss goodbye, but I wouldn’t like to see that lovely coat of yours get mucky. Good luck today. And, Ruby, if you was my girl, I’d be very proud of yer.’

  Ruby smiled, nodding. ‘Thanks, Maggs.’ She knew that Maggs was trying to make up for the affection Babs wasn’t showing. But nothing and no one could replace Pete in her mum’s affections.

  And that’s a fact of life I have to accept, Ruby thought as she closed the front door behind her and saw the Buick appear round the corner.

  Nick led his buyer into the small room and gestured to one of the two chairs. The man was Russian and looked it. He wore a small dark fur hat that sat squarely above his swarthy features and heavy jaw barely disguised by the turned-up collar of his overcoat. Nick noted the excellent quality of his clothes and leather shoes. The two heavies accompanying him, however, were not so well attired. They wore boots and duffles and the required aggressive expressions. Neither spoke, only the head man who was now dismissing his men to stand outside.

  ‘Welcome to London,’ Nick said, offering a cigar. But the foreigner shook his head.

  ‘No. We do business,’ the man growled, a suspicious look in his dark eyes.

  Nick hesitated, then gave an indifferent shrug. He might as well try to get on good terms with his customer. No names had been exchanged, at least, no genuine ones. The man had travelled thousands of miles to make contacts in Britain, as currently the fur trade was booming. Which was why he himself had got into the business. But then, Nick thought with satisfaction, his punter would also have to travel thousands of miles home. But not before Nick had put his own proposition on the table.

  ‘So how would you like to do this?’ Nick enquired politely. ‘Pounds or roubles?’

  ‘You have roubles?’ said the man in surprise.

  ‘Roubles, pounds, dollars. Your choice.’

  ‘Money now?’

  Nick nodded, congratulating himself for having taken the precaution of equipping himself with major currencies. He had learned that each trade was unique, but number one on the list was to impress. Like him, the man was a merchant. Each deal depended on how the cash was ‘lost’ in the accounting. The crates of ermine furs that Nick had purchased from him were only a small part of the process Nick had in mind.

  ‘Da,’ grunted his companion, now fully involved in the conversation. ‘We deal.’

  Nick nodded, hiding his satisfaction. Greed was so predictable. Greed was one man’s edge, the other’s blindfold. ‘Some refreshment?’ Nick enquired. ‘And perhaps I have something else you may be interested in?’

  Once again the man stared suspiciously at him. Nick rose to his feet and rapped at the interior door. ‘Ruby, would you come in, please?’

  The door opened. Nick beckoned Ruby. She was wearing a knee-length grey-striped fur coat and looked stunning. ‘Wolverine,’ Nick said casually, as he took a bottle of vodka and tumblers from the small cupboard. ‘Canadian wolverine. A beautiful and rare fur, don’t you think?’ He glanced at the Russian whose face was now showing lust rather than suspicion.

  ‘Ruby, show us the quality, please.’

  Ruby did as she’d practised, walking a few feet and turning, sliding the coat from her shoulders. She turned it inside out to reveal the thick folds of skin and handstitched lining before drawing it on again.

  ‘You trade with Canada?’ the Russian demanded.

  ‘Canada, the Americas, the East,’ Nick replied, offering the tumbler of vodka.

  ‘Na zdorovie!’ exclaimed the man and threw the generous measure of vodka back in one gulp.

  ‘Na zdorovie!’ Nick did the same.

  ‘How many?’ was the next enquiry.

  ‘Pelts?’ Nick filled the glasses again.

  ‘Wolverine,’ snapped the Russian. ‘No imitation. We trade.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Nick agreed hesitantly. ‘At the right price. Or perhaps an amicable exchange. Fur for fur, in this case.’

  ‘You owe me roubles!’ the Russian exclaimed thunderously, bunching his fist and bringing it down on the desk.

  ‘Yes, and if you prefer, take your money. I keep my wolverine. I’m happy either way.’

  Nick was relieved to see the punter sling back more alcohol as he stared lasciviously at Ruby. He’d probably had days of fasting on the ship that had illegally entered British waters, and hadn’t seen a woman so spectacularly beautiful as Ruby for weeks, even months. And dressed as she was, who wouldn’t want her? Nick thought as he observed the man’s natural hunger for sensual pleasure.

  ‘I see your cash,’ the Russian said suddenly. ‘Show!’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Nick replied easily, lowering his glass and rising to his feet. He turned slowly, smiling at Ruby, and walked to the large metal safe in the corner of the office. He obscured the Russian’s view as he dialled the coded numbers.

  Once the safe was open, he took out the revolver and surreptitiously slipped it in his pocket. Then he grasped the hefty leather briefcase and, making every movement count, he returned to the desk.

  Meeting his customer’s gaze, he noted his punter’s avid expression and wet, almost drooling lips. With slow precision, Nick unlocked the briefcase with another key from the ring at his waist.

  The small lock snapped open. The leather folds of the briefcase parted.

  He was delighted to see the Russian’s eyes when he revealed the contents.

  ‘My God, Nick, all that money!’ Ruby gasped as she sank down in the chair that the Russian had recently vacated. ‘Isn’t it dangerous to keep it here?’ She was freezing even though she was still wearing the wolverine coat. The Russians had frightened her. She had tried not to look into the leader’s eyes, but when she did she became chilled to the bone. The man was a giant and very menacing-looking. Nick had warned her not to be anxious. The man was here to do business and business only. Even so, she had been relieved to see the back of him.

  ‘A very satisfactory trade,’ Nick told her, pouring himself a shot of vodka from the last of the alcohol left in the bottle. ‘My wolverine for rare Soviet Union ermine. Would you like a drink?’

  ‘No thank you.’

  ‘Don’t look so frightened, darling. Everything went well. You played your part and earned your first commission.’

  ‘I didn’t do much.’

  ‘He changed his tune when he saw you in the coat.’

  ‘Yes, but I thought I’d have to do some selling.’ Ruby felt a little disappointed.

  ‘The deal was complicated. I didn’t want to throw you in at the deep end.’

  Ruby watched Nick sip the clear liquid. ‘Wi
ll all our customers be as unpleasant as that?’

  Nick laughed, throwing back his head. ‘My darling, they were just traders after a good deal.’

  ‘They looked like a band of thieves.’

  ‘No, they were just hard characters from a part of the world we don’t know very much about. While Western and Eastern governments quarrel between themselves, people like him and me use the opportunity to get rich.’

  Ruby sighed. ‘Well, I didn’t like it when he got angry.’

  ‘That’s all part of the game.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  Nick reached across the desk to take her hand and draw her to her feet. ‘It means you’ve just secured your first commission.’

  Ruby opened her mouth to ask more, but Nick silenced her with a long, intense kiss. ‘You’ll like tomorrow’s customers,’ he whispered. ‘They’re Irish and far more charming.’

  Ruby slid her hands around his neck and grinned. ‘At least I’ll be able to understand them.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what to say.’

  ‘What will I be wearing?’

  ‘Have you heard of ocelot?’ he asked, placing his hand under the coat and over her breast.

  ‘No, what is it?’ She trembled.

  ‘One of the most sought-after animals in the world. Very similar to a jaguar or leopard. It lives in the South American forests.’

  ‘Does it have spots?’ she asked, trying to concentrate on what he was saying and not where his hands were going.

  ‘Many. Their pelts are particularly valuable.’ His kisses began again, fierce and demanding as he dragged the fur coat from her body and, pushing aside her blouse and bra, drew a gasp from her throat.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was the end of October and Ruby was looking forward to meeting Kath at the El Cabala. She was wearing a fashionable winter’s coat as it wasn’t yet cold enough to show off one of Nick’s furs. Nor, Ruby thought ruefully, was the El Cabala an appropriate place to wear one.

  ‘I’m glad to see you looking more your old self again,’ Kath said as they sat with their espressos in the window seat of the Oxford Street café. ‘By what you told me in your letter, things are looking up.’

  ‘Yes, they are,’ Ruby agreed eagerly. ‘As I wrote, Nick offered me a job working for him and I agreed.’

  ‘You said that Maggs is with Babs.’

  ‘Yes, I was a bit doubtful at first, but Mum doesn’t seem to mind. Maggs is a good sort.’

  ‘When Bernie called round, this Maggs wouldn’t say where you were.’

  ‘I told her not to tell anyone,’ Ruby said with a grin. ‘I knew Bernie would be round at the warehouse in a flash and that wouldn’t have been convenient.’

  ‘My brother can be a bit nosy,’ Kath admitted, ‘but it’s only because he cares about you.’ Ruby watched Kath touch the collar of her dress, which was a pretty, corded design in beige that really suited her slim figure. ‘You don’t need to worry about being pestered,’ Kath added, also with a grin. ‘He’s going steady.’

  ‘What! Who with?’ Ruby asked in surprise.

  ‘A girl called Tina Shutler from his works canteen.’

  ‘Is she pretty?’

  ‘Not as pretty as you. But she is a nice, homely sort of girl who I’m sure will make him happy.’

  ‘Are they serious?’ Ruby asked and Kath’s dark eyes twinkled.

  ‘Did you know Bernie actually bought a house?’

  Ruby was even more surprised. ‘No. Where?’

  ‘A place over Chrisp Street. He asked me if I wanted to move in. But I’m happy with Penny now. We seem to rub along all right. Our flat is close to the Windmill and not a long way to walk. Which is handy with our unsocial hours. And I must say, Penny has a sensible head on her and keeps me in line. I ain’t ever short of a bob or two now and I pay my way.’

  Ruby giggled. ‘Not like us, then? Always borrowing from Peter to pay back Paul.’

  ‘Those were the days,’ Kath said on a sigh as she pushed back her glossy dark hair. ‘I do miss them a bit.’

  ‘Me too,’ Ruby admitted, but not wanting to get too sentimental asked quickly, ‘I never had your brother down as a house-owner. He’s too footloose and fancy free.’

  ‘He’s quite the home-owner,’ Kath said reflectively. ‘He don’t go out on the pull much now and he talks more about the cost of paint than he does of a pint. But enough about Bernie. Tell me about Nick.’

  Ruby felt her cheeks glow. ‘Well, after we left you at the poodle parlour, we went to Angelo’s, the Italian restaurant I told you about. Some musicians played us a love song. It was so romantic.’

  ‘Did you stay the night with him?’

  Ruby felt the hot colour in her cheeks. ‘I think you know the answer to that.’

  Kath giggled. ‘I do now.’

  ‘We’ve certainly made up for lost time.’

  Kath looked down at her coffee. ‘Are you in love?’

  She nodded. ‘I think so.’

  ‘I know you’re swept away, but try to keep your wits about you.’

  ‘You sound like Penny talking.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I might. Dancers tend to live in each other’s pockets. They know there are always men who’ll put on an act in front of a pretty girl. And as much as I like your Nick, I don’t want you ending up down in the dumps again like you were when you left Anna’s.’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘Nick wouldn’t hurt me.’

  ‘Do you ever miss modelling?’

  ‘If it wasn’t for Anna, I wouldn’t be where I am today.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘But it was a hard lesson to learn.’

  Kath leaned her elbows on the table and with a serious expression asked, ‘Do you really enjoy working in a warehouse? I mean, from what I remember when we was kids, those dockside warehouses were cold and draughty.’

  ‘It isn’t Dower Street, not by a long shot,’ Ruby admitted. ‘But I do have a fascination for fur.’

  ‘Who would have thought?’ Kath grinned. ‘My best friend, an expert in fur coats.’

  ‘Not quite an expert yet.’

  ‘As long as you’re having fun.’

  ‘Yes, I am. Now tell me, is there romance on the horizon for you?’ Ruby asked inquisitively.

  ‘Well . . .’ Kath hesitated. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘What does “perhaps” mean?’ Ruby asked, her interest piqued. ‘Have you met someone?’

  ‘I might have,’ Kath mumbled as she sipped her coffee. ‘But Clem is just someone who works at the theatre.’

  ‘Clem?’

  ‘It’s Clement really but everyone calls him Clem. We haven’t even been out yet. But we talk a lot.’

  ‘About what?’ Ruby asked, even more intrigued.

  ‘We do have the theatre in common. The more I know about the world of stage, the more I’m hooked.’

  ‘Has he kissed you yet?’

  ‘Trust you!’ Kath exclaimed. ‘There’s more to seeing a bloke than sex.’

  ‘Well sex certainly helps,’ Ruby said, eager to air her new-found knowledge. ‘You don’t really know you’re a woman until you can’t stop wanting a man.’

  ‘Hark at the girl,’ Kath said, laughing.

  ‘It’s true. When he’s in your mind day and night—’ Ruby stopped abruptly as she saw a figure in the crowd outside. The hair was certainly the right colour and the height. Could it be?

  She jumped to her feet and asked Kath to wait for her. Then she rushed from the café to see if it was really who she thought it was.

  Bernie was rubbing his hands together, aware that for the first time in the year his fingers were numb with cold. He was about to operate the oldest hydraulic crane in Tilbury, in service for almost eighty years, and he had a tricky manoeuvre to perform. Since he’d been preoccupied, thinking about Ruby, he hadn’t managed to dodge the powerful spurting of water gushing from the worn-out seals of the crane as it powered into action. He had in consequence got his workin
g trousers and donkey jacket soaked. October’s sudden chill wind cut fiercely across the river and deepened his discomfort as he scaled the thirty-foot vertical ladder to his cabin.

  Once inside, he took a breath, preparing to ascend the next ladder in order to remove the securing pin. Today he was unloading crates of tea from an old lady that had seen years of service from the Port of London to the Far East and Australia. It was a slow job, but he enjoyed every moment. It still gave him a thrill to be part of the old seafaring traditions that really hadn’t changed much over the years. He loved the Oriental smells rising from the holds and the sights and sounds of the gangs of porters and foreign seamen, and the challenge of a new day.

  As he scaled the next ladder, his damp trousers flapped in the wind. His cheeks hollowed in the air. The view that met his eyes was unmistakable and took away his breath every time he saw it. The city, cloaked by grey cloud, was behind him, the estuary, winding like a ribbon, in front. The jibs of the smaller cranes nodded many feet below and the waterfronts looked busy, despite the recent port depression.

  He had a gut feeling he would be one of the last men to operate this antiquated old beast. It was rumoured the port was in decline. Perhaps one day, and quite unbelievably, this stretch of water would be free from shipping. The manufacturing and commercial industries were moving out to the suburbs. There were rumours that permanent jobs were for the chop and only casuals would be taken on. He’d be one of the first to go if that was true.

  Buffeted by a sudden squall, Bernie hung on at the top of the ladder, managing to remove the securing pin. Carefully he began to descend the ladder, then stopped where he was. From the corner of his eye he saw a large dark car idling along the wharf.

  His breath stood still as he watched Nick Brandon draw up to an old container boat that was new in port. It was a battered old tub and low in the water. Which meant it was carrying a heavy load, not as yet visited and vetted by port authorities.

  Bernie narrowed his eyes and watched the figure closely as it boarded the gangplank and disappeared.