by Dani Oakley
“I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Tony.”
Tony leant back in his chair. “You’re family, Babs. Of course, I want to help you.”
He was so gentle with her and so supportive, that it was hard to resist confessing the whole story, but she couldn’t do that because, at the end of the day, Tony was still Martin’s brother.
She poured them tea and then made sure to keep her tone light as she said, “I need to pop into the chemist this afternoon. Do you need anything?”
Tony shook his head. She watched him carefully, but he didn’t show any reaction to her announcement. And why would he?
She bit down on her lip. She’d been stupid to even mention the chemist, but there was something about Tony that made her want to confide in him.
Before she did anything stupid, she quickly changed the subject. “Martin has asked me to take a backseat in the business.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “I heard about that. What did you tell him?”
Babs sighed. “I agreed. What else could I do? He holds all the cards at the moment.”
“So, you’re really happy to let him run everything?”
Babs leant forward to pluck a cigarette out of her pocket, and Tony lit it for her. She took a long drag, before answering. “What choice do I have?”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “I think you’ve told Martin what he wants to hear.”
Babs tensed. Tony was far too observant for his own good, or perhaps it was only with her. Sometimes, she felt he knew her thoughts before she did. Almost as though he could see inside her head. She shivered. She was glad he couldn’t. He certainly wouldn’t be looking at her so fondly if he could.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I enjoyed doing my bit while it lasted, but perhaps he’s right. Things have changed around here, and I’m not sure I’ve got the energy to get involved in any of his business enterprises.”
“The way you’re talking makes me think you’ve changed. You used to be so ambitious.”
“Yes, well, like they say, prison does change a person.”
She flicked her ash into an ashtray and then looked down at the table, avoiding eye contact.
It wasn’t easy lying to Tony, but she didn’t have any choice.
If she wanted to get one over on Martin, she needed to keep Tony in the dark.
Chapter 40
An hour or so later, after Tony had gone to help Ruby with a delivery at the club, Babs left the house again. This time to visit Markham’s Chemist on the High Street.
As she strode down the street, she was completely unaware she was being watched.
On the other side of the road, keeping a few paces behind, the man in the grey scarf watched her with burning eyes.
He was so fixated on Babs Morton that he almost walked into the two women heading towards him.
One of the women was wheeling a shopping trolley, and she didn’t move it out of the way fast enough. It collided with his shin.
He cursed loudly and his scarf slipped down from his face.
The woman, who had just tried to break his leg with her bleeding trolley, let out a gasp, as did her companion. They both made the sign of the cross.
“Sweet Jesus,” the first woman whispered.
The man wound the scarf back around his face as he flinched at their words and reactions.
He didn’t blame them, though.
Every time he looked in the mirror, he wanted to do the same thing.
Tightening his scarf, he pulled his cap down low and walked on, keeping Babs Morton in his sights.
* * *
Babs had so many butterflies in her stomach they were making her feel sick.
Her pace was getting slower and slower as she approached the chemists. Perhaps she should have worn a disguise, or maybe even gone to a chemists further afield.
She put a hand in her pocket, and her fingers closed around Frieda’s headscarf. She briefly considered ducking into a doorway and tying it around her hair.
Then she decided against it. If she tried to disguise her appearance, it would make it even more obvious she was up to no good.
Nervously, she chewed on a fingernail and then gave a huff of annoyance when she noticed they were chewed down to the quick.
She used to be so proud of her nails. Her looks had been vital to Babs in the old days, but now things like that didn’t seem so important any longer.
As Markham’s Chemists came into view, Babs shivered.
There were plenty of people on the High Street, but nobody seemed to be paying her any attention, thank goodness.
She hesitated at the front of the chemists and then took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The bell above the door rang, announcing her presence, as she stepped inside.
* * *
The man in the grey scarf didn’t follow Babs Morton into the chemists. He wasn’t ready for her to see him yet, but he would be soon.
Soon the day would come when they would meet again.
He would enjoy unveiling himself to Babs and looking into her terrified eyes as he showed her his scars.
He reached up to touch his disfigurements. The thickened skin beneath his fingers made him shudder. He wondered what Martin Morton would think if his wife had a face full of scars.
He felt a wave of rage as he thought about Martin Morton. The man had ruined his life.
He hadn’t done it because he’d needed to, but because he’d enjoyed it. The man was sick, and he had gone unchecked for too long.
Martin Morton had taken his time to make hundreds of little cuts all over his face and body. He had laughed as he made each incision and enjoyed the pain he had inflicted. And like a cowed dog, the man in the grey scarf had run away. He’d changed his name and left his family behind.
He couldn’t have stayed. He was scared Dave Carter would find out he’d betrayed him, and even more terrified that Martin Morton would finish the job he’d started.
He’d hoped for a new life and had tried to settle in new places, but no one would accept him when he looked like this. He scared women and children.
He’d managed to get by, working at night, loading and unloading at the docks in Liverpool, always wearing a scarf and keeping his hat pulled low.
But as time had passed, his fear had lessened, and his thirst for revenge had increased until it filled every waking moment and most of his dreams, too.
The man in the grey mask nodded to himself. Now, the time had come. Frank the Face had returned to the East End, and it was time for retribution.
* * *
Babs stepped inside the chemist, which smelled strongly of pear drops. She had a quick look around, to make sure there was no one in the shop who might recognise her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realised she was the only customer.
She strode up to the counter, trying to appear as though what she was about to do was an everyday occurrence.
A young man with shiny, brown hair and a very round face, stepped out from the dispensary.
He smiled politely at Babs and said, “How can I help you, madam?”
Babs was relieved that old Mr Markham was no longer working at the chemist because he had known Babs since she’d been a girl. But this young chap would be far less likely to identify her out of a line-up if it came to it.
“I need some eye drops,” Babs announced, trying to sound confident. “Atropine ones.”
The young man nodded stiffly and then said, “May I enquire what for, madam?”
“What for? What do you bleeding think I want them for? For my eyes, of course,” Babs snapped with impatience.
To her surprise, the young man leant over the counter, staring deep into Babs’s eyes. She took a step back.
“What are you playing at?”
“Your eyes look all right to me, perfectly healthy, I’d say.”
At first, Babs was too taken aback to say anything, but she soon thought of a suitable comeback. “That’s because I’ve bee
n using the eye drops, isn’t it? But now I’ve run out and need some more. So, don’t just stand there looking gormless, get my eye drops.”
The man gave a startled huff under his breath, but he did as he was told and retreated to the dispensing area.
Now she was unobserved and alone in the shop, Babs gripped the side of the counter as her nerves started to get the better of her. She’d probably gone a little over the top, ordering him about like that. But she was so nervous. She had been lucky to get the words out without stammering.
If she weren’t careful, the pharmacist would guess something was up.
It didn’t take the pharmacist long to bring Babs’s eye drops out to her, wrapped in a brown paper bag.
She paid him the appropriate money, and he asked her to sign the dispensing book. She did so with a scrawl that looked nothing like her own signature.
The pharmacist studied the book after she’d filled it in, nodded and then raised his head to bid her good day, but Babs had already gone, slamming the door behind her.
She stepped out of the chemists and looked up and then down the high street, feeling as though she might get nabbed at any moment.
She shoved the brown paper bag containing the eye drops into her handbag and snapped the clasp closed. Even though she couldn’t see the eye drops, she couldn’t stop thinking about them.
She needed something to take her mind off things, Babs thought as she walked past the hairdressers on the High Street. She peered through the large, glass frontage and saw they weren’t too busy. She decided to see if they had time to fit her in.
When she stepped inside, the women’s eyes all turned to her. Babs could picture them gossiping about her behind her back after she left.
Babs squared her shoulders. She didn’t care. Why should she be bothered what these bunch of narrow-minded trouts thought of her?
She narrowed her eyes at the hairdresser closest to her.
The young woman smiled. “How can I help you?”
“Do you have space to fit me in today?”
The girl nodded. “I can schedule you in after Vera.” She nodded at an old biddy with curlers in her hair.
“Good,” Babs said. “I’ll wait.”
She sat in one of the chairs beside the window in the small waiting area and picked up a magazine.
“What are you thinking of having done?” the woman asked as she began to take Vera’s curlers out.
Babs looked up from the magazine and smiled. “I want to go blonde. Full on, and don’t spare the peroxide.”
Two and a half hours later when her hair was finally finished and styled, Babs looked at her reflection in the mirror and grinned. She may not have the flush of youth, but she was definitely starting to look like her old self again.
Chapter 41
It was just Babs and Ruby for dinner that night. Martin, of course, was working, much to Babs’s relief. Derek had returned to his life in Southampton, and Violet was settling into her old house.
Ruby had prepared dinner, which had been a lovely treat.
With all her darting around today, Babs hadn’t even thought about what to prepare for an evening meal, so when she returned home to find out Ruby had already begun cooking, she thanked her lucky stars for such a considerate daughter.
Ruby had prepared stewed beef, with mashed potatoes and green beans, and Babs was prepared to admit she had done a very good job.
It was certainly a lot better than the sponge cake she’d attempted. She suspected that Violet had taught Ruby how to cook certain meals. Babs felt a pang of regret as she believed that was probably something she would have done if she hadn’t been in prison.
But Babs pushed those regrets away. There was no point in looking back. She couldn’t change things, and besides, she’d never been a great cook. She got by, but messing about in the kitchen wasn’t something that interested her.
“You do look lovely, Mum, with your hair like that,” Ruby said as she finished her last mouthful and pushed her plate away.
Babs beamed. “I have to admit, it is nice to feel more like my old self again.” Her scalp was still tingling from the amount of bleach they’d used at the hairdressers, but her hair was a lovely shade of platinum, and Babs felt like a Hollywood starlet, even if she was slightly older than the average blonde bombshell.
“Have you got any plans for tonight?” Babs asked Ruby.
Ruby shook her head. “No, I thought I’d stay in and spend a bit of time with you.”
Ruby’s words were like music to Babs’s ears. She smiled at her daughter and then realised that she would have to let Ruby down gently.
“That will be lovely,” Babs said. “I need to have a quick word with your father, though, tonight, and sort a few things out, but I won’t be long, and we can spend the rest of the evening together.”
A concerned look passed over Ruby’s face. “You’re not going to start an argument, are you, Mum? I know he can be difficult to get on with, but he’s had a tough time lately. Can’t you be easy on him, just for the next few days?”
Babs was about to make a sharp retort when she remembered it wasn’t fair to put Ruby in the middle of all this. Babs shook her head and then stood up to clear the table. She scooped their plates up and carried them over to the sink.
“I’m not going to start anything. Honestly, I think it is best for everyone if your father and I can get on, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that happens. I just thought it would be good to talk to him tonight and clear the air without anyone else around. I’ll ask him to spare me a few minutes so we can go upstairs to the flat to talk.”
Ruby nodded and smiled. “Good. I hope you both manage to get on. I know it isn’t easy, though.”
Babs smiled at her daughter but knew Ruby had no idea how hard it really was.
* * *
After she had washed the dishes, Babs left Ruby sitting in the front room, in front of the fire, and headed out into the chilly evening air.
It was still relatively early, so she didn’t expect the club to be too busy. It was only a short walk from the house to the club, and Babs walked briskly. Although she was as familiar with these streets as the back of her own hand, she felt on edge, imagining danger lurking around every corner.
She quickly glanced over her shoulder, momentarily convinced there was someone behind her, but the street was empty.
She walked a little faster, not slowing down until the club came into view.
As she had suspected, there was no queue outside the club. There were two bouncers on the door, whom she didn’t recognise, obviously new members of Martin’s workforce.
The faces remained impassive and cool as Babs approached them. They clearly didn’t recognise her, but then as she drew closer, the look on one of the men’s faces changed, and he straightened up.
He nudged his fellow bouncer, and they both turned to look at Babs.
“Evening, lads. I’m here to see Martin.”
“Of course, Mrs Morton, go right ahead.” They stood aside to let her enter, and Babs took a deep breath and stepped through the open door.
The music was blaring loudly, and the inside of the club was busier than she’d thought.
She felt like a stranger in the club. The patrons grew younger and bloody younger, Babs thought with regret.
The first person she caught sight of that she knew, was Red-haired Freddie.
Babs smiled. He was a crooked, twisted individual, but had always been loyal to Babs, and she valued that above everything else.
She smiled and walked towards him. “Hello, Freddie.”
Freddie’s pointed face broke out into a huge smile. “Babs! Lovely to see you. You’re looking fantastic,” he said and kissed her on the cheek.
Babs smiled at his compliments and asked after his family.
He waved one of the bar staff over, and Babs ordered a Dubonnet.
She waited until she’d had a couple of sips of her drink before she brought up the
subject of Martin. “Is he here?”
Freddie didn’t have to ask who she meant. “He’s upstairs. We’re supposed to be having a meeting in about ten minutes, but there isn’t anyone else here yet. Did you need to talk to him?”
Babs nodded. She hadn’t realised Martin had a meeting planned tonight. That didn’t work well with her plans. She’d hoped for more time with Martin alone, but this would have to do.
Babs nodded and then picked up her drink again. “Yes, I need to have a quick word with him. I might pop upstairs now before your meeting starts.” She hesitated. She wasn’t waiting for Freddie to give her permission, but she was considering the possibility that Martin had one of his tarts upstairs, and Freddie might want to spare her the embarrassment by telling her not to go up, but Freddie just nodded.
“I don’t mind, Babs, take as long as you need. Just give us a shout when you come out. We’ll start the meeting then.”
Babs smiled and carried her drink away from the bar, ignoring the curious looks of the staff and headed for the door that led up to the flat above the club.
As she walked up the narrow staircase, her heart rate increased.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous.
She felt a bit silly but knocked on the front door anyway. She didn’t want to start this conversation with Martin off on the wrong foot.
She heard his footsteps as he approached the front door to the flat, and Babs held her breath. She hoped he wasn’t going to be in a foul mood because that would make this evening even harder.
Martin was speechless when he opened the door. He blinked a couple of times, but other than that didn’t show any surprise to see his much-loathed wife standing on the threshold.
“Babs, what are you doing here?”
That wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but it was all Babs had expected.
“Freddie told me you are having a meeting, and I hoped you could spare a few minutes to have a chat beforehand.”
Martin took his time in replying but finally took a step backwards and said, “I’ve always got time for my wife, Babs.”
