by Hugh Fraser
‘I can’t talk now,’ he says.
‘Thanks for wasting my night,’ I reply.
‘I’ve got to settle something with this bloke first.’
I can see the man looking at me from the bar and smiling. I might as well try and find out who he is, in case he’s involved in Brindle’s plans.
‘I can wait,’ I say.
The older man comes towards us, looks me up and down and holds out his hand to me. He’s got an intense look on his face and his eyes are shining.
‘I’m Mike,’ he says.
‘Rina,’ I reply.
‘I don’t know whether Johnny’s told you but he’s acting in a film I’m making.’ He turns to Brindle. ‘Shall we find a table?’
Brindle looks confused.
‘Won’t you join us Rina?’ says Mike.
‘Why not?’ I reply.
Mike leads the way to a table in the corner. Brindle shrugs his shoulders and we follow him and sit down. Mike calls a waitress and when we’ve ordered drinks he turns and looks into my eyes.
‘May I tell you about the film I’m making?’
‘Sure,’ I reply.
‘It’s the story of a woman.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘A woman who won’t be beaten. She’s a London girl from the wrong side of the tracks who’s abused by men as she struggles to care for her sister’s baby after she’s been committed to a mental hospital.’
‘Sounds interesting.’
‘We’ve been shooting for a couple of weeks and I’ve not been happy with one of the leading actors. I didn’t feel he quite had the right touch. I asked the casting director to find someone who’s background is rooted in the world in which the film is set and she introduced me to Johnny. He did an excellent screen test and he’s just finished his first few days’ filming and done a very fine job.’
‘That’s nice,’ I say.
He claps Johnny on the shoulder and they clink glasses. Mike turns back to me. ‘Are you from London Rina?’
‘Yes.’
‘May I ask what you do?’
‘Not a lot.’
‘A lady of leisure,’ says Brindle.
‘Have you ever acted Rina?’ asks Mike.
‘Like in a play?’
‘Yes, or another medium.’
‘No.’
‘I ask because I’m concerned to make the film authentic. I want the characters and their situation to reflect the appalling state of the disadvantaged and underprivileged in this country, particularly single women with children, and the ignorance and selfishness of those who are in control of the wealth that could be used to help and support them.’
‘Sounds good,’ I say.
‘Would you be interested in testing for a part?’
‘I don’t think…’
‘There is a role in which I think you might be perfect.’
‘It’s not really my…’
‘The heroine’s younger sister is a lingerie model, in her early twenties, and while on a photographic shoot, she is assaulted by…’
‘It sounds interesting Mike but it’s not something I’d want to do. Why don’t you ask one of these girls who work here? They’re acting all the time with the punters.’
‘I could yes, but I feel that you have the perfect look for the role, self possessed and strong, yet somehow vulnerable. I knew it as soon as I saw you come into the club and as a friend of Johnny’s you’d be company for each other on the set and so forth. We’re filming in Hoxton so you won’t have far to come.’
A bloke gets up from a table near us and leaves. The girl he’s left behind is blond and about my age.
‘How about her, over there?’ I say.
Mike looks over at the girl and then leans close to me. ‘She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you my dear.’
I catch a whiff of an unpleasant odour that I only ever smell on men. I smile and sit back a little.
‘I’ve got to go and meet someone I’m afraid.’
‘That’s a pity,’ says Mike.
‘I hope your film goes well,’ I say, as I get up from the table.
‘I’ll see you out,’ says Brindle.
Mike stands and shakes my hand. ‘Do come and visit the set sometime, if you’d care to.’
‘Thanks. I’d like that,’ I reply.
Brindle walks with me to the stairs.
‘Are you in or not?’ he says.
‘Are you, now you’re a movie star?’
‘That’s just a bit of a laugh.’
‘I need to know what you’ve got.’
‘Give me your number.’
‘I don’t talk about work on the phone.’
He takes some keys out of his pocket and offers them to me.
‘Blue Merc round the corner in Bear Street. I’ll be there as soon as I get rid of Alfred Hitchcock.’
I take the keys from him and go up the stairs. When I get into the street I take a couple of deep breaths of night air, turn into Bear Street and see a blue Mercedes sports car parked on the right hand side. The key fits and I slide into the passenger seat and wish I’d brought Rebecca.
The car’s facing Charing Cross Road and after a bit I see Brindle and Mike come to the corner with a girl between them. Brindle walks to the car alone and opens the driver’s door.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he says.
‘What?’
‘He’s testing that girl for your part and he wants me to do a scene with her at his hotel.’
‘In her underwear.’
‘Could be.’
‘Have fun.’
‘Can you come to the set lunchtime tomorrow so we can talk?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Hoxton Square. You’ll see the trucks. Just ask for me.’
I see that Mike’s deep in conversation with the girl, probably telling her she’s got the perfect look for the role, and I get out of the car and head up Bear Street while Brindle locks the car and goes to join them. Mike flags down a cab and they get in. I don’t feel like going home so I decide to see if Lizzie’s at the Kazuko. I walk to the end of Bear Street, go across Leicester Square towards Piccadilly Circus and turn into Rupert Street. I go past the Trocadero and the Chinese restaurants and cross over Shaftesbury Avenue. The Kazuko’s on the left hand side and the door’s easy to miss as there are no bouncers outside. I say hello to the bloke behind the desk and the cloakroom girl, who both know me, and go into the club.
It’s much quieter than the Nite Spot with curtained booths round the edge of the room, for a little bit of private slap and tickle, and small round tables circling a stage, where an older man at a white piano is singing ‘The Shadow of Your Smile,’ with a nice mellow tone. About half the tables are occupied and waitresses are keeping them supplied with over-priced cocktails and bottles of champagne, which is all the girls are allowed to drink. I can’t see Lizzie, but in case she’s behind one of the curtains, I sit at a table. When a waitress tells me that Lizzie left a while ago with a German bloke I decide to call it a night and head home.
As I approach the door an older woman in a beautiful sable fur coat walks in. I step aside to let her pass and recognise Marlene Teale. She’s wearing very high heels, a blond wig, which gives her a few more inches, and a pair of diamond earrings. She looks at me and her mean little mouth stretches into a smile.
‘Just the person I want to see,’ she says.
‘Go and fuck yourself.’
As I go to push her out of the way, she holds me by the arm.
‘I’ve found her,’ she says.
I stop and look at her. She’s still smiling in a creepy way.
‘Come and have a drink?’
If she’s found Dawn I want to know what she’s done with her and why she’s telling me about it, when the last time she saw me she was ready to kill me. I follow her to a corner table and we sit down. I can see by the light of the table lamp that she’s wearing a ton of make-up and powder and looks about ready to go in an open coffin.
‘Johnny’s talked to you, hasn’t he?’ she says.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘He’s told me the score, so there’s no need to fuck about.’
‘Where’s Dawn?’
‘Never mind that now. Are you on for doing Preston?’
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This old slag has thrown her lot in with the man who’s punched her son’s teeth out, broken his hands, and captured his girl, and she wants to stand beside him while he squares up to one of the most powerful men in London. When George hears this, he’s going to put a dead stop to this malarkey and I’m going to help him do it, just as soon as I’ve found Dawn.
‘Could be,’ I say.
‘Johnny’s the coming man all right.’
‘Who else has he got?’
‘Tony Viner’s firm and a few from Birmingham.’
‘Danny?’
‘Oh yeah.’
‘After what Brindle’s done to him?’
‘Danny’ll do what he’s told.’
‘Where’s Dawn?’
‘It doesn’t matter now.’
She looks round as a bloke carrying a briefcase comes into the club.
‘There’s my man,’ she says.
‘Is he in?’ I ask.
‘No. He’s just buying fur coats.’
She puts a dry knobbly hand out to me. ‘Here’s to better days.’
I shake her hand and she goes off to sell her hoisted finery. I put a ten bob note on the table for the waitress and leave.
9
I’m walking to Shaftesbury Avenue and thinking that the first place to look for Dawn is Danny Teale’s. I take a cab to Maida Vale, pick up the Cortina and drive to Harlesden. I park on Scrubs Lane, go through a gate on the left hand side and walk across the cobbled yard to my lock-up.
I open the garage doors, close them behind me, get into my van and turn on the inspection lamp that’s taped to the roof. I slip out of my dress, open the wardrobe that’s fixed to the side of the van, look among the clothes on the rail and take out a dark blue suit, a Brooks Brothers white shirt, a club tie and a pair of black brogues. I take off my bra, put on the outfit, get some kirby grips from a box where I keep various bits and pieces and put my hair up. I spit on a tissue and wipe off most of my make-up, take a dark grey fedora off the shelf and put it on. The gent who looks at me from the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door looks a bit camp and dodgy but I reckon I can get away with it in a dark street. I put the Smith & Wesson in my belt, the blade in my sock and the knuckle duster in my jacket pocket, along with a nylon stocking mask.
I drive the van to Notting Hill and park in Talbot Road. As I cross Powis Square I can see lights on in the front room of Danny’s flat. The same brass who I saw last time is standing on the corner. When she walks on along the pavement I take off the fedora, pull on the stocking mask, put the hat back on and go up the steps to Danny’s. I ring the bell and after a moment the curtain of the bay window twitches, and I turn my head away as it’s pulled aside. When the curtain falls back I take out my gun, lower the brim of the fedora and wait. The door opens and I’m looking at Danny’s brother Jack. He’s smaller than Danny but still a bit lively. I raise the gun and step forward. He sees what’s in my hand and backs into the hall. I follow him inside and close the front door behind me.
‘Who is it?’ says a voice from inside the flat, that sounds like Danny.
I pull back the hammer and motion Jack to go through the open door into the flat. He raises his hands, turns and goes in. When he’s through the door I kick him hard in the lower back and crack the side of his head with the gun as he goes down. I close the door behind me, nudge Jack with my foot to make sure he’s out, and go into the front room. In the glow from the test card on the TV screen, I see Danny getting up from the sofa.
‘What the fuck?’ he says, and tries to pick up a wooden chair with his bandaged hands. I put the gun in my left hand, slip on the knuckle duster, step forward and hit him with a straight punch to the knockout point on the side of his jaw. He falls backwards, hits the sofa and slumps onto the floor. I hear Jack give a moan and I go into the hallway and quieten him down with the heel of the gun. There’s a corridor which runs the length of the flat with three doors off it and a kitchen at the far end. The first two doors open to empty bedrooms. The third one is locked. When I get near the kitchen I smell bacon cooking. I go in and see a frying pan on the stove and bread under the grill. Dawn is crouching in the corner with her face to the wall.
I take off my hat and mask, turn off the grill and the gas under the frying pan.
‘Time to go Dawn,’ I say.
She turns slowly and looks at me. Her face is thin and drawn and there are bruises on her neck and arms. She looks at me but doesn’t recognise me.
‘I was at the cottage,’ I say.
Her eyes flicker with recognition and she slowly stands up.
‘I remember you,’ she says.
‘This time you’re coming with me.’
I go to her, take her arm and she offers no resistance as I lead her along the corridor. Jack’s still lying where I left him and as I step over him I hear a key turn in the front door. I back up and push Dawn through the first door off the corridor. I follow her into a bedroom and hear Marlene’s voice.
‘Who’s left this fucking door unlocked? Oh my Christ!’
The door is slammed shut and there’s the sound of face slapping.
‘Come on my love, come on…’
Marlene huffs and puffs and Jack starts to gurgle and wheeze.
‘My fucking head,’ he mumbles.
‘Come on, let’s get you in here my love,’ says Marlene.
I hear what sounds like Jack being dragged into the living room and then a scream from Marlene. I slowly open the bedroom door, pull Dawn after me and we creep into the hallway and out of the front door. As we go down the steps I can hear Marlene shouting at her boys in the front room.
When we get to the van I put Dawn in the passenger seat and head for Harlesden. She doesn’t seem to want to talk and by the time we’re on Harrow Road she’s asleep. I’m thinking maybe she’s been drugged with something. When we get to Scrubs Lane, I help her out of the van and put her in the Cortina, while I take the van back to the lock-up and change out of the suit and tie. After I’ve made everything secure, I go back to the car and drive to Maida Vale. Dawn sleeps all the way and doesn’t even wake up when Dennis carries her up to the flat for me. I put her in Georgie’s bed and when Dennis asks me who she is, I put a finger to my lips, give him a fiver and tell him to stay awake and not let any old ladies into the building. He pockets the note, gives me a salute and leaves. I turn the keys in all three locks on the front door, close the bolts and go into my bedroom. I take off my clothes and get into bed. I’m so knackered I don’t even reach for Rebecca.
It seems like moments later when I’m woken by screams coming through the wall. I get up and rush into Georgie’s room. Dawn is sitting on the bed holding her stomach and rocking back and forth. Her face is bright red and her eyes are bulging. She sees me and reaches out a hand. As I get to her and hold her, she screams again and throws herself back onto the bed. I run into the hall, dial 999, say I need an ambulance and tell the operator what’s happening, then I phone Dennis, tell him there’s one coming and to send them up right away. I unlock the front door to save time when they get here and go back to Dawn. She’s lying on the bed, holding her stomach and moaning softly. There are tears on her face from the pain that she’s in and she’s looking up at me imploringly. I kneel beside the bed, wipe her eyes and hold her hands in mine.
‘Ambulance is coming. You’ll soon be all right.’
Another spasm of pain grips her and she arches back and cries out. When it subsides and she sinks back onto the bed and quietens, I put a hand on her forehead and feel how hot she is. She turns and looks at me.
‘Do they know where…?’
‘No,’ I say.
<
br /> ‘Will you be with me?’
‘Of course.’
She closes her eyes and clenches her fists as another wave of pain passes through her, then she settles again and her breathing slows. I suddenly realise I’m naked and I tell her I’ll be back in a tick and go next door. I put on bra, pants, jeans and a sweater and pull on a pair of socks and my Chelsea boots. I go back to Dawn, put my arm round her and stroke her forehead, until I hear footsteps in the corridor and a knock at the door. I open it and there are two ambulance men holding a stretcher between them. I show them into the bedroom and they take a quick look at Dawn, lay the stretcher on the floor and lift her on to it. I can see blood on the sheet where she’s been lying. I ask if I can go with her and get a quick nod from one of them as they pick up the stretcher and carry it into the hall. I grab my keys, open the front door and stand back as they take the stretcher into the corridor. I lock the flat and catch them up in time to open the door to the stairs for them. The man at the front end lifts the stretcher up to his shoulders and holds it with one hand while he turns round, takes it with both hands again and sets off down the stairs, while his mate lowers his end to his knees to keep it level.
When we get to the foyer I see that the back of the ambulance is open and it’s parked up close to the glass door. Dennis holds it open while the men put the wheels of the stretcher onto a pair of rails and slide it in. One of the ambulance men tells me to get in the back with him. When he’s checked that the stretcher is secure and Dawn’s strapped in, I sit beside her and take her hand while the other man closes the back doors, gets into the front, says something into a radio that I can’t hear and starts the engine. The sirens wail as we pull out of the service road and accelerate fast down Edgware Road. I get thrown about a bit and have to hold on as the driver swings the ambulance left and right before pulling up at St Mary’s in South Wharf Road. As soon as we stop the back doors open and two men in white coats pull the stretcher out, put it on a trolley and take it into the building. I follow them as they wheel it along a corridor to where there are two lifts on each side and men and women in white coats and nurses standing waiting. A lift arrives and the white coats stand back, let the stretcher in first and file in after it. We go up a few floors and they wheel the stretcher out of the lift, along the corridor and into a ward. I follow behind but a nurse stops me and asks me for the patient’s name. I tell her that I only know her as Dawn and she says I’ve got to wait outside. She points to a row of chairs and tells me that someone will come and talk to me when they’ve examined Dawn.
