by Carol Rivers
'Ronnie's a good geezer,' Gina nodded. 'So is Joyce. I like her.'
'She's been very good to me. I would have liked a mother like Joyce.'
Gina stared at her thoughtfully. 'You ever heard from your old girl?'
'No, and I don't expect to. Why should I? She chucked me out and told me she never wanted to see me again.'
'She might feel different now.'
Bella said nothing as she tried to hide the feelings inside her that welled up when she thought of Bow Street. She had been tempted, it was true, to go round there, tell Mary that she was getting married and Ronnie had even asked if she wanted him to accompany her. But she had decided against it, as much for Terry's sake as her own. He was happy now, happier than he had ever been, had been given Ron's old room at Piper Street and liked being in the big old house with a family feel.
'Ronnie is going to open up the basement,' Bella told Gina, changing the subject discreetly. 'Me and Micky are going to move there as soon as Ronnie's had it done up. The airey - as it's known - hasn't been used for years, so it needs a bit of doing up. I think it's still got the duckboards on the floor to keep out the damp so it will need a good lot of heating.' She paused, her eyes softening as she thought of her plans to make a real home, the furnishings she would chose and the room full of toys she would transform into a nursery for the baby. 'At the moment we've got Mr and Mrs Bryant's old room upstairs, but when the baby comes we'll need more space and the airey has a lovely big sitting room, scullery and kitchen and three bedrooms. Quite enough space to meet out needs.'
'Will Terry move in with you?'
'I said he could, but he wants to stay in Ron's old room. He likes it there, next to Sean. And when Ashley's over they all have a good laugh.'
'Don't Ronnie sleep in it any more?'
Bella grinned and said softly, 'Most night he stays at the club with Joyce. Prefers it to going all the way back to her place.'
'The house of ill repute, you mean?' Gina smirked.
'It doesn't seem like it.' Bella shrugged. 'I've been over there with Joyce and she runs it smoothly. The girls are lovely too and Bernie and Sid keep any trouble out.'
'You sound like a Madam yourself.'
'It's a good business, Gina.'
'You thinking of starting up yourself?' Gina sounded alarmed and Bella shook her head quickly.
'Course not. I was just saying, it's a way to earn a living, same as anything else.'
'You know I can hear your Micky talking there.' She rolled her eyes expressively. 'Well, give me my cafe any day. I know I spend my life cooking and waiting on tables, but I'm only thankful I've got beer bellies sitting on chairs and I'm not lying under them.'
She laughed, but Bella was quick to enlighten her friend. 'Joyce doesn't work - not that sort of work - she's retired.'
'Doesn't Ron mind his girlfriend was in the trade?' Gina asked curiously.
Bella shrugged as she sipped from the glass of water in front of her. 'They've got a good understanding, being friends for so long.'
'Not like your Micky, then?'
'What do you mean?'
'Nothing. Just that he's on a short fuse where you're concerned.'
'It was only once. That twit Raymond Taylor,' Bella dismissed. 'But Micky trusts me and I trust him.'
'Well, take my tip and knock his jealousy on the head straight away. If you're not careful the old green eye can get out of hand.'
'Gina, we've not even been married a day, yet!'
'It's never too early to put your foot down. And when the baby comes along, men tend to get shirty about being ignored.'
'Well, I'll have all the time in the world to pamper him,' Bella said with a smile. 'Don't forget, I won't be a working woman, will I?'
Gina looked at her and frowned deeply. 'Is that what you want? Waking up to washing, ironing, cleaning and changing nappies all day? Tea on the table as soon as he comes home and the carpet slippers ready?'
Bella straightened her back and nodded. 'Well, I can't see Micky wearing carpet slippers, but yes, that's what I want.' She gave a hesitant smile and added softly, 'A home, a real home, is what I never I had, Gina.'
'I know, love. But you've got brains. Because you've come up the hard way you've had to use them an' all. You don't want to let them go to waste. That'd be a sin.'
Bella laughed, sliding her hand through the crook of her friend's arm. 'That's what I love about you, Gina, you've always got your feet on the ground.'
'Too true I have,' Gina agreed knocking back the dregs in her glass and chuckling. 'You can't trust a man further than you can throw him. And believe me, there are no exceptions to the rule. Speaking of which, your bloke is walking towards us, giving me the evil eye. So off you go and – what did you say you was going to do – pamper him?'
Bella laughed, her heart racing at the sight of her breathtaking husband. Gina was wrong on one point; there was an exception to the rule. One that she had found, anyway. Micky had always been her friend, her only ally in the darkest of times, her protector and her lover. And now he was her husband. She had loved him forever, would continue to love him and knew that he loved her in the same way.
In years to come she would remind Gina of this conversation. When she and Micky were an old married couple, and were still friends as well as lovers, proving their love had survived the test of time.
Chapter 17
PART TWO
August 1954
It was Saturday afternoon and Micky knew he should be getting out of the bed. He had been laying in it all morning since leaving home. But Leyla felt good next to him, the reason being she was dreaming sweet dreams. And he had been indulging too. The small black pellet in his cigarette had furnished him with a glorious lethargy, a sensation that was now crying out for more of the same. The heel-balls they had just smoked were of the finest quality, a fact Micky had proven for himself. His Limehouse contact, Weng-Weng, was to thank for this, though where he was buying the opium from, Micky had no idea. But he intended to find out. He had sampled it for himself and knew that it was kosher.
Leyla stirred beside him, her slender black body and full, young breasts always a turn-on as she moved against him. It was only when she opened her mouth that Micky felt disappointed. She spoke with a whining nasal accent and very fast. Leyla Spinks came from Liverpool, a northern brass and a stunner to look at. She was also his link to the drug scene in the north. All he need do now, was leave with his twenty-five quid. He could ask for six times as much for the heel-balls from the bohemian set who favoured the clubs and bars of Soho. They were loaded and would pay the full price for any substance they could smoke, swallow or stuff up their refined noses like the Indian hemp he had been buying from the Russian. But he had heard that up north there was a lucrative market for opium and he would offer the goods for a song at first, create a demand and then drive up his price.
The girl turned away from him, her long black hair twisting around her face. Micky slid quietly out of bed, put on his trousers and checked the room to see if he had left any incriminating evidence. It was a shabby Aldgate dump, but it did the job. His friend, Norman Waters, had bunged him a key and in return, Micky passed him a selection of stock, fast cars and the little black beads that were making such an impact on the London scene.
Taking Leyla's bag, he shook out the contents and found her purse. He opened it and took out an impressive wedge of notes. The bitch was loaded! Tipping twenty pellets from his matchbox into the purse he counted out twenty-five notes and a further ten for his trouble. The sum was over and above their agreement but she had come well prepared. He tucked the money inside his jacket pocket hanging from the chair. Lacing his shoes and inspecting his image in the dressing table mirror he nodded.
'The day's no t even started yet, Micky old son,' he congratulated himself. 'And a nice bit of skirt into the bargain.' He knew Leyla wouldn't be best pleased at his price, but he also knew she would be back for more.
Unlike him, she now had a
habit. He could stop any time if he so wished. But why should he? Sweet dreams as they were called, were a major perk of the opium. They were what he enjoyed, and most of all they relieved him from the mundane. Which, at the moment, was driving him nuts.
After all, marriage and a family hadn't been his actual choice, had it? In fact, he still didn't know if had sired young Michael. The boy had blue eyes, true, but otherwise, he was Bella's double. It was all kids at home; the neighbours' kids, friends' kids, you name it. Bella loved kids. Revelled in them. She even smelt of kids. He was surprised they'd not had any more, but he wasn't complaining, even though Bella was worried they weren't going to produce again. She had even been to see the old doc, but all he'd said was to relax and things would sort themselves out in time.
Micky knew he should pay more attention to his wife but to be honest, it was a bit of a chore, no excitement left in the bedroom. Forbidden fruit was his cup of tea. Like Leyla, who wore musky smelling scent splashed over every inch of her smooth ebony skin and would always comply with what he wanted her to do.
Still, he wasn't about to complain. Bella kept him sweet with Ronnie and that was important. After the Stratton fiasco, Micky had learned a big lesson. After Tony had died in hospital, there had been a big shake up in the East End. Ronnie had been right about that. Some hard men had emerged and Micky knew he couldn't go it alone, at least not yet. And when Ronnie had offered to finance buying a garage at Aldgate and stocking it with top quality cars, he'd jumped at the chance.
Micky laughed out loud; he had convinced Ronnie that he actually enjoyed being legit. But the cars were just toys for him to play with. A front for his other, more enjoyable interests, like those he had partaken of this morning.
The smile slowly slipped from his face. He had to be careful as he didn't want Ronnie breathing down his neck again. This arrangement was perfect. Until he was ready to change it, he would keep his family happy.
Whistling softly, he lifted his jacket from the back of the chair, drew it on and went softly from the room.
He stood outside in the hot August air, breathing in the filthy fumes from the traffic and the hot, overworked tarmac. It was said that where there was muck there was money and he believed it implicitly. The hemp that he had been flogging to the arty set in Soho was about as mucky as you could get. And its users were no better than the old chinks of Limehouse, now a vanishing breed. This generation with their lefty views just pretended to be poor, they had no conception of real poverty. And this annoyed him the most. He took real pleasure in selling them the dope at astronomical prices. It was society's comeuppance.
And now he had Leyla. She was beautiful and a pro. She knew what a man wanted and gave it to him. And bless her corrupt little heart, in return he would continue to provide her with as many 'sweet dreams' as she wanted.
Winking at a pretty girl as she walked by, Micky smiled. There was no rush to get back to work. Terry would have leathered the motors and swept the site. At least the kid was good for shining up the stock, keeping it smart. And his new salesman, Milo, would take care of any punters. He was a good sort, was young Milo. Put on the airs and graces a bit, but the chicks loved it.
So, having nothing better to do than enjoy the day, Micky sauntered after the girl. She had a round, neat bottom and long legs and he smiled again as she glanced encouragingly over her shoulder.
Carefully, he smoothed back his hair, adjusted his tie and walked after her with a spring to his step.
Although the weather had been gloomy, today the sun was shining and Bella was excited. She and young Michael were on their way to meet Dolly and the twins at Cox Street market. She was going to buy small gifts for Michael's fifth birthday party tomorrow. Dolly's four-year-old twins, Anne and Irene were all glossy golden ringlets and big smiles. They loved Michael who basked in their attention. Michael had reddish brown hair like Bella, but his big blue eyes were his father's. His expression was serious for a little boy, but when the twins made him laugh, he couldn't stop.
The Shines still lived in the Poplar house they had moved to after their wedding. The girls met weekly at the market; it was a good excuse to gossip whilst they shopped or sat on the bench by the arches as the kids played around the stalls.
Today Dolly was already shopping at the clothes stall and Bella smiled as she approached the colourful trio. The girls were Dolly's doubles, stood on firm, strong legs, were dressed in buttercup yellow frocks and green sandals, whilst Dolly was wearing a floral cotton dress and a floppy white hat.
The girls saw Bella first. 'Auntie Bella, Auntie Bella!' they screamed running towards her.
Bella stopped the pushchair as they ran into her arms. Hugging them both, they were soon kissing Michael with their soft lips and making him laugh. He was normally a quiet child and Bella loved the twins for their ability to bring him out of his shell.
'Oh, Bella, you should see what I've bought.' Dolly rushed up, breathless as usual. 'Look, two identical skirts. Someone must have had twins as old as mine. They're almost new. A bit on the big side, but nothing I can't alter.'
'Lucky you,' Bella nodded with a smile. 'You found a snip again.'
'Let's look for something for young Michael.'
'I need little surprises to wrap up for the party tomorrow. Games like pass the parcel and hide and seek.'
'How many children are coming?'
'Seven in all. There's our three, the two little girls from next door, Emma and Victoria and that nice girl we met, Phiona and her two children.'
Bella nodded, engrossed in conversation as they all walked to the bench and sat down. She loved to talk about their little universe or the next meeting of the monthly club held at the local community centre. Here, the toys were donated by well-wishers and the children did drawing and painting. Skills that would help them when they started school, as Michael was about to in September. Bella always tried to meet Dolly there, but only when time allowed. She was very busy looking after her family and keeping the books for the Blue Moon and Ronnie's new building company.
'Don't go out of sight,' Dolly shouted as the children amused themselves.
'I'm making the jelly and blancmange tonight.' Bella smoothed down the full skirt of her pale blue cotton dress. Her fingers went up to the tiny buttons of the shirt-waister bodice and she twisted them pensively. 'Gina is coming over in the morning to help me with the food.'
'What time does the party start?'
'Two o'clock. You'll all be coming won't you?'
'Wouldn't miss it for the world. Percy has to work at Burlingtons in the morning and help with the early deliveries. But he'll be home by twelve. Course, he'll stink to high heaven and will need a wash or they'll be thinking all your lovely food has gone off!'
The girls burst into laughter, before Dolly asked curiously, 'Is Micky getting time off from work to be at the party?'
'I hope so. He has a young man to help him now. Saturdays and Sundays can be very busy. If Miles is there then Michael will come home.'
'Miles? That's a posh name.'
'Micky calls him Milo.'
'Have you met him yet?'
'No, I only go to the garage when Micky drives us up to Aldgate in the car. It's too far to walk with a pushchair. But Micky speaks very highly of him. He's good with the customers and sells cars almost as easily as Micky. And our Terry likes him too. He told me that Milo tips him two bob from his own pocket when he's pleased with Terry's work.'
Bella hoped that now Micky had an assistant he would have more free time. Although Terry could be relied on to wash and clean the cars, he was unable to sell, or even talk to customers. He was still a little boy inside a man's body and she knew now that he would never change.
Dolly sighed dramatically, bringing Bella back sharply from her thoughts about Terry. 'Percy's really envious of Micky driving all those fast cars. It must be exciting having a job like that.'
Bella smiled proudly. 'Last week Micky took us round the block in a Jaguar. It was white
and shiny and went really fast. Michael loved it, waving out of the window at everyone.'
'Micky's customers must have a lot of money to spend.'
Bella laughed. 'Not always. Some can't really afford a car and buy them on tic. Others have got money to burn and want to look good to impress their girlfriends. Micky takes them out for a spin and before you know it, they're sold. He's a really good salesman, you know.'
'I'm sure he is.' Dolly nodded quickly.
Bella wished she could sit on the seat all day boasting about her husband. She loved him so much and was so proud of him. All that was missing was another addition to the family. A sister or brother for Michael. She'd spoken to Dr Cox about it, but he said she was fit and healthy. He'd asked her if she and Micky had any problems with intimacy, but she had been too embarrassed to say that Micky didn't seem to be interested in love-making these days. She felt it was her fault somehow and always tried to look nice to please him. But the end result was, when they did make love, she was tense and the enjoyment was replaced by anxiety. Dr Cox had told her that when she stopped wanting a baby so much, one would come along. She hoped he was right.
'Bella, can I ask you something?' Dolly's voice broke into her thoughts. 'I was wondering if young Michael ever asked about his granny.'
Bella was taken aback by this. She never discussed Mary and had no inclination to do so. 'He doesn't know he's got one, does he?' she replied a little shortly.
'But when he goes to school, the other kids will talk about theirs. What are you going to tell him?'
Bella shrugged. 'I don't know.'
'Have you thought much about it?'
'Course I have, Dolly. But what's the use? I can't provide a granny for Michael by waving a magic wand. And anyway, he's got plenty of uncles and that's more than enough for now.' Bella looked at her friend. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to snap.'
'It's just that we don't ever talk about your mum. And we're best friends. We talk about everything else.'
