by Hugh Fraser
She stands back as Brindle walks past her into the room.
‘I’ve found you a nice pair of midnight blue undies,’ she says, as she closes the door.
Mike turns and sees me. ‘Ah Rina. Come and see the set.’
He leads me into the bedroom, closes the door and stands with his back to it. ‘I’d like a word, if I may?’
‘Sure,’ I say.
He goes to sit on the bed, then changes his mind.
‘Shouldn’t mess it up I suppose,’ he says and turns to face me. ‘I want to ask you to reconsider taking a short test for the part I talked about last night.’
‘I don’t think…’
‘As soon as I saw you in that club I knew you had exactly the quality I’m looking for. You have a luminous beauty and a purity of presence that I know the camera will love and I think this could be the start of something big for you.’
I’ve heard some chat-up lines in my time but nothing compared to this. I’m almost tempted to give it a go until I remind myself that in my line of work it might not be too good to be seen in the movies.
‘Thanks for asking me Mike but it’s not something I want to do.’
‘I can’t persuade you?’
‘No.’
He takes a card out of his pocket and offers it to me. ‘If, by any chance, you should change your mind.’
As I’m taking his card from him the door opens and Ed appears. ‘Actors are ready to rehearse Guv.’
‘Bring them in please,’ says Mike, then he turns to me. ‘Rina, perhaps you’d take a seat outside while we rehearse and then you’re welcome to join us when we’re ready to shoot.’
Ed opens the door for me and I nearly bump into a girl with long dark hair that I recognise from the TV. She smiles at me as I stand aside to let her pass. Brindle gives me a wink as he follows her into the bedroom. I sit in a chair next to the woman with the folder. She finishes writing something down and looks up. She’s about fifty, slim with dark hair and deep brown eyes.
‘I’m Jean, continuity,’ she says.
‘Rina,’ I reply.
‘Are you a friend of Johnny’s?’
‘Yes.’
‘Such a nice boy.’
I nod and smile.
‘He’s doing so well.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘Apart from nearly knocking Henry out, although between you and me, a few of us have been tempted.’
We laugh and she offers her folder to me. It’s got her name, Jean Craven, written on the front cover.
‘Would you like to have a look at the scene they’re going to shoot?’
‘Thanks,’ I say.
‘Johnny is playing Challoner, and Kim Daley is Mary.’
She passes me the folder and I open it up and read how Mary and Challoner are in bed together and he’s comforting Mary and telling her she’s safe now and how he’s going to take care of her and the baby, and how much he loves her and everything’s going to be all right, and I’m thinking it could be a conversation between Brindle and Dawn before he dumped her. The girl says how much she loves him and they start to have a snog and it all heats up, and then the baby starts crying in its cot and she gets out of bed and picks it up, and then they hear the front door opening and Challoner puts his clothes on and reaches for his gun. The girl pleads with him to go down the backstairs and get out, but he stands against the wall beside the door, then they hear footsteps on the stairs and he raises the gun. The door opens and a man walks in and Challoner shoots him.
‘Thanks,’ I say, handing the folder back to Jean.
‘Here comes the baby,’ she says, as a woman comes up the stairs carrying a bundle in her arms. The bedroom door opens and Ed appears. ‘OK boys, we’re ready to shoot.’
Ed opens the door wide and the cameraman, his mate and the lad with the microphone pole go in. Jean picks up her canvas chair and folds it. I do the same and we follow them into the bedroom and wait while Mike and the cameraman discuss where the camera should be. They decide to put it in the corner, and we open our chairs and sit alongside it. The woman with the baby puts the little one in a cot beside the bed. The baby snuffles and whimpers a bit as it’s put down and the woman soothes it and strokes it until it quietens. Brindle and the girl are in the bed and Mike is sitting on the side of it talking to them. He sees me come in and says something to the girl. She looks over at me and then shrugs her shoulders and nods to Mike who gives me a smile.
When the room settles, Mike stands up. ‘Welcome everyone, we’ll do the whole scene for the wide shot and then come in closer. Ed?’
Mike moves to behind the camera, the boy with the pole holds it over where the lovers are and Ed gives a quiet, ‘Stand by.’
As before, the soundman presses a button and mumbles something.
‘Running,’ says the cameraman.
‘OK Johnny?’ says Mike.
Brindle nods, and Mike looks to Ed.
‘Action,’ says Ed.
Brindle, who’s lying on the far side of the girl gets up on one elbow, strokes her shoulder and whispers something that I can’t hear into her ear. She gazes into his eyes and they exchange a few words and then kiss. Brindle pulls back the bedclothes, slides on top of her, fondling her breast, and she wraps her arm round his neck and pulls him closer.
‘Cut,’ says Mike.
Brindle and the girl stop what they’re doing and look up.
‘What happened to the baby?’ says Mike.
‘Sorry Guv,’ says Ed.
‘It should cry at that point.’
‘Edith?’ says Ed.
‘He’s not remote control,’ says the baby woman.
‘We can do it as a wild track,’ says the soundman.
‘Put it on afterwards,’ says Ed.
‘It’s not the same,’ says Mike. ‘I asked for a crying baby and that’s what I want!’
Ed turns to the cameraman. ‘Are you seeing the floor under the cot?’
The cameraman looks through the lens. ‘No.’
‘Edith, perhaps you could be under the cot and give the baby a poke, or something, when we cue you?’ says Ed.
‘No way,’ says Edith.
The baby starts crying.
‘Oh for God’s sake!’ says Mike.
‘He’s a good crier but he’s not here to be poked!’ says Edith.
Mike gives her a withering look and walks out of the door, followed by Ed. Jean looks at me and raises her eyebrows. Edith goes to the cot, kneels in front of it and comforts the baby. I look at my watch, see that it’s nearly four o’clock and realise that if I’m going to get to St Mary’s in visiting hours I’d better leave the glamorous world of film making and get on my bike.
I say goodbye to Jean, go past the camera and out of the room. I walk down the stairs and through the front door. Mike is standing by one of the trucks with his arms folded, turned away from Ed, who’s talking to his back and looks like he’s pleading his case in vain.
11
I park in South Wharf Road and go into St Mary’s. I don’t know the name of the ward Dawn is in so I ask at the desk. It takes the receptionist a bit of time to locate her as I can’t give her surname, but she finally tracks her down to Albert Ward and I go up the stairs and along the corridor until I see the sign. A different nurse is at the desk and when I tell her I’ve come to see Dawn she tells me the room number and points along the passageway.
I open the door slowly in case she’s asleep but I find her sitting up in bed reading a magazine. Her face breaks into a smile when she sees me. I sit on the bed and she takes my hand.
‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ she says.
‘There’s no need.’
‘I can’t think what would have happened if you hadn’t come.’
Her eyes moisten and I move closer to her. She puts her arms round me and I hold her while she cries. ‘They’re so horrible and Johnny’s such a bastard. I don’t know how he could do it to me and his own baby, and now it�
�s gone and it’s my fault because I’m so bad, and I believed all his lies and now it’s all awful and horrible and…’
Her head falls onto my shoulder and she sobs in my arms. I rock her gently from side to side and stroke her back. ‘There there, it’s all over now and you’re safe and sound and everything’s going to be all right.’
When she quietens, I put my hand under her chin, lift her head and look into her eyes. ‘You’re going to be fine my darling.’
I hold her close for a while and then ease her back onto the pillows.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she says.
‘How are you feeling now?’
‘I’m not too bad, a bit sore where I’ve been hit.’
I take both her hands in mine. ‘Have they said when you can leave?’
‘I can go later tonight.’
‘Have you got a place you can be where Johnny and them can’t find you?’
‘I don’t know. Marlene knows most of my mates, I reckon.’
I’m wondering how best to keep this girl safe when the nurse comes in, picks up a cup and saucer off the bedside table and turns to me. ‘Ten minutes to the end of visiting hours.’
I nod and when she leaves I tell Dawn I’ll be back in a tick and follow her into the passageway. ‘Excuse me,’ I say.
The nurse stops and turns to me.
‘I believe Dawn will be leaving tonight.’
‘That’s right. Nine pm.’
‘I’ll be taking her home and I wondered if I could take her with me now.’
‘I’m not able to authorise early discharge I’m afraid.’
‘Only I can’t come later and there’s no one else who can collect her.’
‘What about a taxi?’
‘It’s a long way.’
‘She could discharge herself, I suppose.’
‘How does she do that?’
‘She has to sign a form. I’ll bring one to the room.’
‘Thanks.’
I go back to Dawn. She’s sitting up and looking better. ‘You can come with me now, if you want.’
‘Do you mean it?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Let’s get you dressed then. The nurse is bringing you a form to sign.’
I open a wardrobe in the corner and take out her underwear and the short cotton shift she was wearing when they brought her in the ambulance. She gets out of bed, takes off the hospital nightgown and I can see the bruises she’s got from her short stay with the Teale family. As I’m helping her get dressed, the nurse comes in with a form and a biro and shows her where to fill in her name and sign. The nurse takes the form away and I slip off my jacket, give it to Dawn and she puts it on. She’s still wearing the hospital slippers and her first few steps along the corridor are a bit wobbly. I hold her arm as we go down the stairs, cross the entrance hall and walk to my car.
Dennis is at the desk when we get to Maida Vale and he scurries across the foyer and calls the lift for us. ‘Glad you’re feeling better Miss,’ he says to Dawn as he opens the lift gate for us. Dawn looks a bit confused until I tell her that Dennis helped her into the ambulance that took her to St Mary’s. She thanks him for his trouble and we go up to the third floor and along to the flat.
‘Are you hungry?’ I ask, as I open the door.
‘Not really,’ she replies.
‘Fancy a drink?’
‘Now you’re talking.’
I lead her into the lounge, offer her the sofa and go to the sideboard.
‘Whisky all right?’
‘Lovely.’
I pour two glasses, give one to her and sit in the armchair. She takes a drink, sits back against the cushions and twirls the whisky round in the glass. ‘I can’t believe what a mug I’ve been.’
For a moment, I think she’s going to cry but then her eyes seem to clear and she takes a couple of breaths and another drink.
‘I let them treat me like a bit of dirt until I didn’t know which end was up. They made me feel like everything was my fault and I was doing wrong all the time, and I should have stood up to them, or got the fuck out of there, but I just went on taking it and taking it and I don’t know why. What was wrong with me?’
I watch as she gets angrier at herself for playing the victim. The more she feels like this, the more her self-respect will start to build and there’ll be less chance of some other evil bastard taking it away from her and grinding her into the ground. I refill our glasses and she carries on blaming herself for what she sees as her weakness and railing against Brindle for using her and then giving her back to the Teales. After a while the whisky slows her down and she starts slurring her words as fatigue takes hold of her.
‘Would you like to get into bed and get some rest?’ I ask.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then I will. I feel like I could sleep for a week.’
I take her glass from her, ‘Do you want one to take to bed?’
‘No thanks. I won’t be awake long enough to drink it.’
I change the sheets on Georgie’s bed and show Dawn where the bathroom is.
‘Have a bath if you want. I’ve got to go out for a bit but I’ll be back later. If you wake up, help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen.’
‘Thank you.’
As I move to the door, she touches my arm. I turn to her and our eyes meet.
‘I don’t even know your name,’ she says.
I take her hand and put my lips to her ear. ‘Rina.’
I go into the hall, try to call Bert to arrange a meet with George but get no answer. No one gets George’s phone number, as he arranges everything through Bert. I decide to drive to his house and see if he’s there. It’s not quite kosher just to turn up there, but I need to tell him what I’ve got from Brindle and find out what he wants me to do. I’m just hoping he’s not in some club or a spieler at the other end of Bermondsey and I can get sorted and back home before morning.
I drive to Lancaster Road, park the car and knock on George’s door. Just when I’m thinking there’s no one in, I hear shuffling steps and a tapping sound. Jacky Parr, the wizened old boy with the stick who let me in before, opens the door and gives me the once over. ‘Are you a fucking treat, or what girl?’
‘Hello Jacky. Is George in?’
‘He’s down the Elgin.’
‘Been there long?’
‘He’s just gone.’
I turn and walk away. ‘Cheers Jacky.’
‘Aren’t you going to stay and make an old man happy?’ he calls after me.
I give him a wave as I get into the car.
I drive down Westbourne Park Road and park by the corner of Ladbroke Grove. It’s near closing time and the public bar of the Elgin is packed. The piano player they used to have in here has given way to a juke box and Eric Burdon’s putting his heart and soul into ‘House of the Rising Sun’. I’m guessing George will be at one of the tables along the back wall and I push through the crowd until I see him. He’s surrounded by the usual circle of blokes in dark suits trying to look like gangsters. I stand near the table until the man next to George, who I think is called Dave, sees me and says something to him. George clocks me, says something back and Dave gets up from the table and comes over to me. ‘Grey Merc, by the Mangrove.’
He goes on past me to the bar and I make my way through the crowd into the street, walk up Westbourne Park Road to All Saints Road and see the car. I hear the pulsing bass notes of ska booming out of the Mangrove as I pass and I wish Lizzie was with me and we could go in there and get wrapped up in it and forget about these stupid men and their crazy battles. I walk past the Merc and wait in a doorway until I see George and Dave come round the corner. I join them as they get to the car and Dave unlocks it and opens one of the back doors for George. I get in the other side and Dave crosses the street and stands in the doorway of a pawn shop.
George takes
his fedora off and puts it on the seat beside him. ‘All right?’
‘Not bad.’
‘So?’
‘He’s got all of Viner’s firm on earners and the Teales.’
‘You’re fucking joking.’
‘Brindle offered them Dawn back if they’d go against you and they agreed.’
‘If this is a wind up…’
‘On my life.’
‘You’re telling me that Danny and Jack are in with that slag?’
‘And their mother.’
‘Jesus Christ!’
‘It doesn’t end there.’
‘Go on.’
‘Brindle had Dawn away from Danny before because he was beating her black and blue. He’d already been seeing her on the side and got her pregnant, although Danny thought it was his. Brindle’s given her back to them in return for their going against you and getting a bite of the action once he’s on top, like I said. When I found out she was back at the Teales I’ve gone in and got her away. One of them had whacked her about and given her a miscarriage.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Somewhere safe.’
‘I won’t ask how you did it.’
George looks out of window. He’s opening and closing his right fist and I can see a vein standing out on his temple. He turns to me with his eyes burning and I’m reminded why he’s the most feared man on the manor.
‘Hurt that bastard.’
‘You want me to off him?’
‘Do his legs and mark him.’
‘You know I don’t do that.’
‘Maybe you should start.’
‘You’ve got a few can handle that.’
‘Like Jack Teale.’
‘If you want me to do Brindle I will.’
‘Maybe it’s the best way.’
‘I reckon.’
‘It needs to be known he’s been done.’
‘It will be.’
‘Go on then.’
‘And I get Dad’s money?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What about the Teales?’
‘I’ll handle them.’
He raises his hand to Dave across the street and he comes over and gets into the driving seat. I get out of the Merc and it glides away. I walk back past the throbbing bass and sneaky guitar licks, round the corner into Westbourne Park Road, avoiding an old drunk who’s swaying along the pavement and snarling and cursing at the world around him.
