by Carol Rivers
'Yeah, well, you're no Errol Flynn yourself,' the first man replied, zipping open a sausage as soon as Bella let go off the plate. 'Don't listen to him, love. I treat me missus like a queen.'
'Yeah, he kisses her arse once a year if he's lucky, and she crowns 'im afterwards!'
The cafe erupted in laughter and Bella joined in as she collected the dirty plates and expertly balanced them on her forearm. Under Gina's tuition she had soon learned how to be the perfect waitress and her quick sense of humour had endeared her to all the customers. Bella couldn't wait to turn the notice on the door in the morning to Open. By which time she had prepared the food in the kitchen for breakfasts and buttered four loaves, piling them up in readiness for the orders. Gina had taught her how to cook brown crinkled bacon, crusty fried bread and eggs with a soft yellow eye; food that was unheard of in Bow Street. Gina knew all the customer's individual tastes, right down to the way each one liked the strength of their tea or coffee, served almost immediately they walked in the door. They were busy men with only half an hour to spare sometimes. The food and drink had to be on the table without fuss or delay. From the very first moment Bella had tied an apron round her waist, she seemed to sense the customers needs.
'Two fry ups over here, love, and four more on the way in,' called someone else in the corner. Bella nodded, wrote the order swiftly on the pad attached to a string on her belt and hurried out to the kitchen. Gina was at the cooker, dressed as Bella was, in the regulation white apron.
Bella lay the order on the table with the others. 'Two breakfasts now and four on their way.'
Gina indicated two meals already prepared. 'There you are, love. Regular as clockwork, these Friday boys. We'll have all the blokes in soon from the building site round the corner. I'll double up the bacon as they've got stomachs as big as elephants.'
'Shall I tell them the Christmas dinners are on next week?' Bella asked as she filled up the hot water heater.
Gina nodded and flipped the eggs in the frying pan. 'We'll start dishing up from midday. And don't take any nonsense from them either. If you get any cheek then tell me and I'll sort them out.'
Gina had warned her that all the customers were in high spirits at this time of year and she had to be ready for jokes to be played on her. Bella was a little nervous, but she wasn't going to show it. She knew how to work quickly and please everyone. She could add up faster than Gina could and Gina was quick. All the men left the cafe with smiles on their faces and Gina had told her that in the six months she'd worked there, business had improved.
Bella almost danced her way out with the orders, her eyes twinkling as she served the piping hot meals.
It was the end of the working day and Bella and Gina were relaxing. They sat together at one of the tables at the back of the room, gazing out on the dark night. There was less traffic now and at seven o'clock in the evening, very few pedestrians. The cafe had been closed for half an hour but the smell of tobacco and fried fat was still heavy in the air.
On the table in front of them was a large brown ashtray of the workmanlike variety. Balanced on it was Gina's half-smoked Craven A filter tip. Beside the ashtray stood two mugs of coffee and arranged by these were the accounts for the week. The ledger was open beside them and Bella's careful handwriting filled the pages. With a satisfied smile Gina reached across to a small pile of receipts which she quickly tore in half.
'What the taxman doesn't see, he doesn't know I've cooked,' Gina intoned as she inhaled deeply on her cigarette then crushed it out.
Bella was accustomed to this little procedure. She had needed no instruction on how to balance the books; Dixons had taught her all she needed to know about figures.
'You know, Bella, at this rate, one day you'll have a business of your own.'
'I like working here.'
Gina laughed and lifted her long legs, crossing one slim ankle over another as she lowered them to the seat of a chair. 'You're young yet. You won't be here long. You'll get bored. Go off somewhere.'
But Bella shook her head. 'After what you've done for me?'
Gina lifted the palms of her hands. 'It's suited me as much as it has you, love.'
'We had nothing, not a bean when we came here. You gave me and Terry lodgings and he was sick at the time. It was only your grub and looking after that got him well. I'll never forget that. Never.'
'I helped you out for a price. Micky bunged me fifteen quid to be exact.'
Bella's eyes widened. 'You never said before.'
'Did you think I did it out the goodness of my heart?' Gina's face softened despite her harsh words. 'Everything has a price tag in this life and you'd do well to remember that. As it turns out you've been a good investment for this cafe. You can charm the customers round your pretty little finger and you know the figures backwards.' She grinned. 'You remind me of yours truly when I was your age.'
'Were you working here then?'
'I've never worked anywhere else!'
'Did you ever want to do something different?'
Gina looked surprised. 'By the time I left school I knew the business backwards. Mum had to scrimp and scrape to get this business going, and I was right alongside her, barely out of nappies when she did it; washing, drying, clearing up, cooking, you name it we did it. Dad was away at sea and no help at all. The most he could boast was a girl in every port.'
'Didn't your mum mind?'
'She was too busy trying to keep us afloat. Mum was terrified of poverty and had good reason to be. She was the ninth child of a family of fourteen, immigrants from Spain, poor devils, who risked life and limb to get here, believing the English streets were paved with gold. After discovering the hard way they weren't, most of them died destitute. But Mum got taken in as a little kid by this old widow who used to run this place as a sweet shop. She helped in the shop and looked after the old girl until she died, then turned it into a cafe. Dad was a customer and she married him in between one of his trips away, God help her, poor love. They never had any more kids after me, she was terrified she'd end up with fourteen. So in a way I s'pose Dad had every reason to wander.'
'Did she look Spanish, like you?'
'She did once, but she worked so hard she had bags under her eyes the size of Bow bells. I watched all her beauty fade and I promised myself I'd never end up like that.' Gina frowned gravely. 'And if it's one bit of advice I'd give you for free, it would be to take good care of that skin of yours. It's flawless now but it won't last forever.'
Bella nodded quickly. 'I'm going to buy a good cream.'
'You want olive oil, love. Use it every day. I've got some in the kitchen. Help yourself.'
'Thanks.' Bella smiled hesitantly. 'Despite all you've said about being paid to keep me, I'm still grateful. You've been good to me and Terry. We've two nice rooms and a bit of privacy that we never had before. And Lenny's kept Terry out of trouble down the lock-up and even says he's a good worker. Plus I've got money in my purse and food in my stomach.' She paused, smiling shyly. 'And best of all Micky and me are back on speaking terms, something I thought wasn't going to happen.'
At this, Gina laughed. 'Oh Bella, you don't know your Micky very well, do you? He doesn't do nothing that don't pay him. He is in love with himself and why not? He's a good-looking bugger and knows what he wants. He clocked what an asset you are to him and he wasn't about to let you escape. It's second nature to Micky, collecting people. Having control over them and reaping the rewards from their labours. Which, I assure you, are substantial.'
'But it was me who had to ask Micky for help,' Bella argued.
Gina frowned, leaning forward. 'Look, Bella, you know my Lenny means the world to me, don't you?'
Bella nodded, suddenly ill at ease as Gina's black eyes gazed straight into hers. 'Well, he's a good man underneath, but he couldn't walk a straight line to save his life. When we first met I tried to persuade him to come into the business. But oh no, he turned his nose up at waiting tables on other blokes. Micky convinced him
they were going to make a fortune on the booze. The result is Lenny winds up doing all the hard slog and Micky does what Micky does best. He sits back and applauds.' She sighed deeply, scooping the receipts together and tucking them into the pocket of her apron. 'Anyway, I've given up fighting Lenny's battles now. Come to the conclusion I'm better off like Mum, feathering my own nest. Lenny will have to learn his lessons. Just as you will.'
Bella frowned hesitantly. 'But I thought you liked Micky.'
Gina shrugged. 'He's an inescapable fact of life and I accept him.'
'That's a funny thing to say.'
'Bella, you think you owe him. But you know, you don't. Your first responsibility it to yourself – number one. Now, here's your wages, you've earned it.'
Bella gasped. 'Three pounds?'
'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Do you know we plated over two hundred and forty fry-ups this week? That's not counting rolls and sandwiches. You do the sums. At one and four a breakfast, we hit the jackpot. And considering we're still on rationing, that's not bad. All I can say is long live the black market. Now take it.'
Bella grinned as she accepted the money. 'I know what I'm going to buy.'
'What?'
'A new dress for Christmas.'
'You deserve it. You're a beautiful girl and you should have beautiful dresses to wear.'
'I've still got all the clothes you gave me when I came here. I didn't have nothing, just a bundle of rags. If it wasn't for what you bought up the market for me and Terry – '
'I wouldn't have found myself a nice little waitress, would I?'
Bella knew that behind Gina's hard front there was a heart of gold. 'This is the best job I've ever had. And the best place I've ever lived.'
'In that case, you've got my sympathy.' Gina grinned as she rose to her feet. 'Now come on, we've all that washing up to do before tomorrow. As soon as the door opens, they'll be lining up on the pavement for their grub. And they'll need it as well, to soak up the beer they put away on Saturday night.'
Bella felt her pulse race at the thought of tomorrow. Micky was taking her out. He said he'd collect her at six if she could get away. And this time she knew he wasn't going to let her down. Gina had overheard him making the arrangement and warned him he better not be late as she was letting her staff off duty early. As Bella had worked out tonight, Micky relied heavily on Lenny and therefore went out of his way to please Gina.
'Sit tight, Bells, I've got to see a man about a dog.' Micky smoothed back his hair with the palm of his hand and stood up.
'But Micky – '
'Five minutes, that's all, darling.'
Bella watched him weave his way between the tables acknowledging almost everyone as he went with handshakes and winks. Since the moment they had entered the club, he'd been engrossed in conversation with one person or another. Mixing a little pleasure with business, he'd explained to Bella, who at first hadn't been in the least disappointed, but flattered that he'd brought her to Club Afrika off the Tottenham Court Road. The owner was a man called Ivor who wore a small moustache and tuxedo. Micky talked to him at the bar whilst Bella sat on her own at a table. Unlike the Indigo, Club Afrika lacked entertainment and although Micky had bought drinks in tall glasses, Bella hadn't drunk hers. She asked for lemonade but it hadn't arrived. Micky seemed to have forgotten all about her.
Looking round the club which at first glance had seemed mysterious and unusual with its big potted ferns and mosaic archways, Bella saw on closer inspection that it was rather shabby. Most of the tables were occupied by young men wearing jumpers and baggy trousers and the women in shapeless skirts or dresses. The older variety of customer looked a bit seedy and Bella hoped they weren't going to stay here all evening.
By ten o'clock she was wondering when Micky would come and sit by her. She'd taken a lot of trouble with her appearance and borrowed a deep rose coloured sheath style dress from Gina as she had managed to get to the market to buy an outfit. It was big on the hips, but with a few tacks, Gina had made alterations. As it was an off the shoulder gown Bella had pinned her thick auburn hair up into a pleat. A lot of olive oil, black mascara and red lipstick had gone in to her make-up and though she disliked it herself, she hoped Micky would notice. Gina had commented that she was definitely a young Rita Hayworth though by the way Micky was carrying on, Bella was beginning to think all her efforts were wasted.
'Sorry about that,' Micky apologised eventually as he strolled up to the table. He lit a cigarette with his lighter and kicked out a chair with the tip of his shoe. 'Look at all this.' He sat down, pulling crumpled pieces of paper from his pocket. With the cigarette dangling from his mouth he sighed. 'Never was any good at paperwork. Look at all this! I need to get myself one of them posh secretaries.'
'What for?'
'Business is booming. Need to keep track, start books and all that. We did all right during the war, but I'd never have believed it would be this good afterwards. With all these bottle parties in fashion, I can't see an end to the demand.' He laughed. 'If I could get Lenny to work nights, I'd soon be a millionaire.'
'What's a bottle party?' Bella asked, feeling stupid.
'Bottle parties, doll, are the future for Micky Bryant. You can keep your market stalls and suitcases, your knocked off whistle and toot. Bottle parties are a legit way to render the British public a service and make a fortune into the bargain.'
'So bottle parties are legal, then?'
'Course they are! Would geezers like old Ivor over there stay trading if they wasn't? The onus, you see, is on the punter, Joe Bloggs let's say. He signs an order form for his booze to be brought into the club by an all-night wine merchant, see? That way, it's classed as a private booze-up, nothing to do with the club. At least that's the way it looks on paper, all official like. Me and Lenny supply the booze as special discounted rates and everyone is happy as Larry.'
Bella still didn't really understand Micky's explanation, but she felt it was her intelligence at fault. 'It's just that I don't want Terry to get in any trouble,' she murmured bewilderedly.
'Put your mind at rest then, Bells. No more mucking around under an old lock-up. As of this week we are going into kosher premises. A nice little warehouse at the docks with a sign over the door, with proper books to keep. Moving in Monday.'
'Oh, Micky, that's wonderful.'
'Yeah, thought you'd see it that way.'
'What does Ronnie – ' Bella began but didn't finish as Micky interrupted her impatiently.
'Christ, Bells, this has nothing to do with Ron. And I don't take kindly to you keep bringing him up all the time.'
'I don't mean to.'
'Then leave it out.' He glared at her. 'I've brought you out for a good time and all I get is Ronnie this, Ronnie that. He's a busy man, isn't he? Got his club to look after now.'
'Couldn't we have gone there tonight?'
'Strike a light, Bells, what does it take to satisfy you?' Micky's face darkened as he pushed himself roughly from the table. 'Look, I've brought you out for a drink and you're still nagging.' He stood up and jerked his head to one side. 'Come on, I'm taking you home.'
'But it's early yet.'
'Well, I'm not suffering any more hag. I come out to enjoy myself. Instead I get the bloody inquisition.'
'I'm sorry, Micky.' She stretched out for his hand. She had that cold feeling in her stomach and she knew all his danger signs. Somehow she managed to make him angry, but she didn't know why. 'I promise I won't say anything more, I'll just sit here and keep quiet.'
'I reckon you think more of Ron than you do of me.'
'I only care about you. I – I care a lot.' She blushed as she folded her fingers over his and gave them a gentle squeeze. 'Sit down, please.'
It was a moment before he did and shaking a fresh cigarette from the pack, he offered her one. She took it, her fingers trembling. 'Micky?'
'What?' He sucked the smoke slowly between his teeth.
'Do you really need help at yo
ur new place?'
A smile crept over his lips. 'Yeah, why?'
'I could help you on Sundays.'
He shrugged. 'If you want. But it's a case of zipping this.' He pointed to her mouth.
'I will. I promise.'
'Okay, then. I'll take you down the new gaff as soon as it's sorted.'
Bella felt a thrill of excitement. She got bored on Sundays if there were no jobs to do for Gina. She liked Mondays best when the week stretched ahead. She had always hoped Micky would call round one Sunday and take her to Piper Street to see Ron and Sean like the old days. But he hadn't and she'd given up hope of that ever happening.
'But listen,' Micky said in a hard voice that made Bella anxious all over again. 'I'm the boss, you'll be on a good earner if you can do the work, but I want no verbal in the meantime.'
She nodded silently.
After a long pause he pulled one of the chairs from another table beside him. 'Come over here.'
She got up slowly and sat on it. He reached up and slid his hand to the back of her head. 'I want my Lana Turner back, the girl with that smouldering look in her eyes. The look that was only for me. Or at least I thought it was till I found you with Casanova.'
'I've told you, Micky, Ray meant nothing to me.'
Bella felt his arm slide around her. His fingers released the grips in her hair and it tumbled down on her shoulders. 'That's my girl, my beautiful Bells. I've watched you grow up and tried to protect you and I may have my faults, but my heart's in the right place. I've got to know where I stand see? And that whatever I do, you'll be by my side.' His mouth was so close that his breath floated over her face, making her feel as though she wanted this moment to last forever. He was touching her the way she wanted to be touched, holding her as if she was a real woman, the way she wanted to be for him.
He pressed his mouth against her cheek, kissing her skin tenderly. She closed her eyes, expecting him to kiss her but just as his lips found her waiting mouth he whispered, 'Let's get out of here.'
