Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End

by Carol Rivers

  'And those fags you're eating don't look it either,' Micky returned swiftly. 'Your insides must be blacker than the cemetery incinerator.'

  'Can we return to Downey Manor?' Miles intervened, glancing at the map again. 'Let's go over this one more time. What precisely, would I be expected to do?'

  'Drive,' Micky told him easily as he adjusted his white cuffs under his sports jacket. 'You wait for the boys outside and when the job's done, chauffeur them home.'

  'And I am expected to provide finance for the er – funny money?' Ivor looked down his long nose.

  Micky nodded. 'We need a good printer and that costs.'

  'You know of one?' Miles asked in his faultless accent.

  'You bet. Just leave it to me.'

  'And talking of you,' Ivor put in, 'what is your part in all this?'

  Micky pulled out a chair and sat down. 'I'm the mastermind! A job like this takes a lot of planning. We need the money is in situ when she goes on holiday. I'll have to get in close and personal to the old lady.'

  'Is your "printer" trustworthy?'

  'I'd stake my life on it,' Micky insisted.

  'You might have to, old chap, if anything went wrong.' Miles looked hard now, his gaze unwavering.

  'Milo, I kid you not, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Nothing can go wrong.'

  Miles nodded slowly. 'How do we gain entrance?'

  'Simple. We climb in through an open window. There's no alarms, only the old bloke who lives in the cottage and goes round once in a while which is why we need the lookout. I'll suss it out proper when I go up to see the duchess this weekend. When I get back, we'll meet and if either of you want out, that's your prerogative. I'll take my idea somewhere else.'

  Micky knew he'd said the right thing. Their eyes showed greed and all he wanted now was Ivor's money to put the plan in motion. And the sooner the better. After all, he couldn't exactly ask Ronnie to finance this little caper! McNee was an impatient sod and he wanted the hefty wedge that was owing to him. Micky wished yet again that he had listened to Ron. The Fortune was costing him dearly in protection. McNee was like a whopping great leech. Too big, too powerful to knock over. The frightener he'd had outside the club had made him realise the only way, was to pay the black-hearted bastard what he demanded. Now this new scam, that little goldmine in the country, was looking even better than it had last week.

  'Assuming success,' Ivor murmured smoothly, 'what is our cut?'

  'I pay the printer his poke up front. So you get your investment back first, Ivor. Then we split the remainder.'

  'How much each?' asked Miles warily.

  'A couple of grand a-piece easy I'd say.'

  'And the replacement funds – how good are they?'

  Micky laughed aloud. 'As kosher as funny money can be.'

  The three men looked at one another. Micky waited for the next question. None was forthcoming.

  Micky reached down and took a bottle of whisky from the desk drawer. Savouring the moment, he poured them all a celebratory snifter. 'To Downey Manor,' he toasted, at last seeing an end to all his problems.

  Bella was wearing a peach coloured, full-skirted summer dress, with a slim white belt around her waist. As she checked her appearance in the bedroom mirror, Michael came in. 'Are you ready yet?'

  'Mummy's just putting on her lipstick.'

  'How long will you be?'

  Bella smiled into the mirror as she smoothed the soft pastel colour on her lips. She looked down at her son. 'All finished now.'

  'Uncle Ron said we can go to the park.'

  'Pull your socks up and let me comb your hair, then.'

  'It's like Christmas,' Michael said excitedly as she combed a parting in his hair.

  Bella laughed. 'Don't get too excited or you won't be able to eat your dinner.'

  'Can I run out to Uncle Ron now?' Michel screwed up his freckled nose.

  'Yes. But don't chase up the airey steps. Last time you grazed your knee.'

  But Michael wasn't listening. He couldn't wait to see his Auntie Joyce and his uncles, the first real family gathering in six months.

  When they arrived upstairs, the dinner was cooking. Sean was basting the meat and Ashley was preparing the trifle with a generous topping of cream.

  'Go and sit down, and we'll have a drink,' Sean said as everyone stood around breathing in the aromas. 'Ashley, get out the sherry and the Babycham.'

  'Are we going to the park?' Michael asked Ronnie.

  Ronnie grinned. 'Course we are.'

  'Make sure you work up an appetite,' Sean called from the kitchen.

  Bella knew they would come home sweating and ravenous, eager to eat after their game of football.

  Ashley poured Babycham into two cocktail glasses. 'Go and have a chat, you girls.'

  Taking their drinks into the front room, Bella and Joyce made themselves comfortable on the couch.

  'I'll let you into a secret,' Joyce said softly. 'I've finally said yes to Ron. But don't let on I've told you as Ron is bursting to announce it today.'

  'Oh, Joyce that's wonderful news.'

  'It's been a long time coming.' Joyce pushed back her dark wing of hair. 'I hope it's the right decision.'

  'Of course it is. You and Ron are made for each other.'

  'But Ronnie wants a family, a son in particular.'

  'And you don't?'

  Joyce laughed sadly. 'I never thought I would be a mother. And certainly not at my age.'

  'You'll make a wonderful mum, Joyce. You and Ronnie are going to be very happy.'

  Joyce smiled reflectively. 'When I caught your bouquet I thought it was just a laugh. I love Ron, but we are good friends first and foremost and neither of us want to change that.'

  Bella nodded, recalling her wedding day and her beautiful bouquet of white carnations and pink roses that she had thrown into the air. Joyce had been shocked when they fell into her hands and even Bella had been surprised. Perhaps catching the bride's bouquet was the beginning of their romance? It was certainly the beginning of her own life with Micky. Could she now say the same as Joyce? Were she and Micky still friends as well as husband and wife?

  Micky never talked about the club or the garage, or his hopes for the future or his amazing ideas any more. He had once had so much lust for life and shared his passion with her. Now, they rarely sat down and talked. But was it because of her that things had changed? She hadn't been supportive of the Fortune and had complained about not seeing him enough. Even his New Year's resolution to keep her happy had fallen by the wayside. Was she expecting too much of her marriage?

  'There's something else I'm worried about,' Joyce added pensively circling the rim of the glass with her little finger.

  Bella frowned. 'What's that?'

  'Ronnie wants to move back to Piper Street.'

  Bella was surprised. 'I thought you were looking for a nice big house in the country?'

  'So did I.'

  'Why did he change his mind?'

  Joyce smiled a distant smile. 'Sean and Ashley have bought the hairdressing shop and flat off Ron. This place will be empty, apart from you and Micky, that is.' She paused. 'If Ronnie suggested it, would you consider moving upstairs?'

  Bella was caught off-guard by the question. 'I don't know, Joyce. I love the airey. It's where Michael's grown up and there's plenty of space. I have to admit though, that with Sean and Ashley gone, the house would seem very empty. There would only be Terry left upstairs and he couldn't stay on his own. He'd come down with us, I expect.'

  'Oh, I see.' Joyce sounded disappointed.

  'You were really looking forward to a fresh start, weren't you?' Bella said gently.

  Joyce nodded slowly. 'Selfish of me, isn't it? I'm no snob, but for once in my life I wanted to splash out, go a bit grand with my own place.'

  'Have you talked to Ronnie about this?'

  Joyce sipped her drink thoughtfully. 'I began to, but then I realized how much it meant to him to move back here, to his roots
. Perhaps he's trying to recapture the past?'

  Bella had given thought to this subject too. She had asked herself if the bond she had forged with Teresa and her efforts to build bridges with Mary was an attempt to revisit her childhood. To put things back the way she would have liked them to be. But in her heart of hearts she knew that would never be possible. Was Ron trying to do the same too?

  'I don't know what you'll decide,' Bella said firmly, 'but one thing I do know and that is that Ron loves you dearly. He won't make you unhappy and your life will become richer wherever you live.'

  Joyce put down her drink and nodded. 'Yes, I suppose it doesn't matter where we live.' She looked round the room and began to smile. 'Though if we was here, we might have our differences when it comes to decoration. The furniture is as old as the hills. I've got my own taste, as Ronnie knows well.'

  'I'm sure you'll make it look lovely,' Bella agreed as she heard the sound of Michael's laughter outside. 'And to think you and I will be neighbours. Oh, Joyce, I couldn't ask for more.'

  'Do you mean that?'

  'Of course I do.'

  Joyce grasped her hand. 'Now don't forget to look surprised when Ronnie makes his announcement.'

  Lenny was trying not to compare the squalid, cramped surroundings of Suzi's bedsit to the spotlessly clean accommodation he was used to. He had never really appreciated Gina's housekeeping, mostly because he had been forced to maintain that standard. It was not in his nature to be fussy. At the warehouse he knew where everything had been, even though on the surface it looked a mess. When he'd been tinkering about with his formula, he'd been at his happiest, despite the occasional spat with Micky. As he lay on the back-breaking put-u-up, listening to the noise of the street below, the flashing neon lights lit up the dark room. The smell of beer and cigarettes rose up from the premises beneath, a strip club. Outside its doors there was always the local brass mouthing it off. Soho was alive twenty four hours a day. It didn't sleep and nor had Lenny slept properly since he'd landed here two months ago.

  Micky had promised to find him another gaff, but it had never materialized. He wanted to get out of this dump as soon as possible, but he had no money. He was used to nice clean sheets, a good cup of Rosie and a substantial fry-up. Suzi's kitchen which consisted of one cupboard, a draining board, sink and two electric rings, provided none of these. She called herself a singer and actress. Well, you could have fooled him. She brought more blokes home from the Fortune than she had hot dinners. There was always a permanent fag-fog in the room. Her bed was a tip and there was always someone ready to climb in or out of it. As the put-u-up he slept on was only hidden by a curtain, he was always on edge. As soon as he heard her come in he would crawl into his clothes and walk the streets. The only peace he got was when she went to work, from eight o'clock in the evening until two in the morning. He made sure he got himself some kip then. Though it was like sleeping on razors. He was ready to leap out of his make-shift bed the moment he heard her key in the lock. His nerves were in shreds. He never knew what mood she was in. On a high or low, sober or sick. It was the drugs that Micky was giving her. Lenny hated them, what they did to people. He had seen and learned a lot since he'd left Gina.

  Lenny sat up, his ears alert for the sound of high heels on the rough wood of the stairs. As soon as he heard the cursing he knew it was Suzi. He jumped up and pulled on his trousers. By the time she opened the door, he was struggling into his vest. He grabbed his coat and shirt and pulled the curtain back.

  'Who the hell are you?' an angry voice demanded.

  Looking into the face of one of her punters, Lenny knew he'd had enough. This would be the last night he spent here.

  'Oh, leave him alone,' Suzi shouted, pulling the man back as he stepped towards Lenny. 'He ain't in my bed is he? He's a paying guest.'

  'You sure?' the mountain of flesh demanded.

  Suzi put her hands on her hips. 'Well, what you waiting for?'

  With as much dignity as he could muster, Lenny hurried out of the door.

  He was going to find Micky. And he was taking the job he'd offered him. Principles in this life cost too much. He had left Gina to find his freedom. Now he had none at all. Micky promised that just one job would buy that coal yard he'd seen. A substantial man's business he could work up and show Gina exactly what he was really made of.

  Lenny hurried out into the summer night, pushed his way past the women on the corner and headed for the Fortune.

  Chapter 23

  The party was in full swing despite the damp and rainy August day. As Bella had promised the children, they were having a double celebration for their birthdays. Dolly's twins were dancing around the room, with paper hats on their heads, followed closely by Emma and Victoria Brown from next door. In hot pursuit was their seven-year-old cousin, Peter. All had to be restrained as the moment came to blow out the candles.

  Bella clapped her hands. 'Are you ready?' She had made two iced sponges. One was decorated with six blue candles and the other, pink.

  'I'll blow softly,' said Teresa as she bent forward careful not to dirty the front of her new party dress. The table had been cleared of debris now that everyone had eaten, but the lemonade glasses were still fizzing.

  'And I'll blow strong.' Michael puffed out his cheeks, flushed from having chased the girls.

  'On the count of three, then.' Bella lit the last candle and all the children were suddenly silent. 'One, two, three!'

  Every candle extinguished and the children clapped, filling the room with laughter. Bella began to slice the cakes whilst Dolly set the portions on plates and handed them out.

  'I'll take your mum a slice,' Dolly said as she came back to the table. 'Do you think she's enjoying herself?'

  Bella glanced across at Mary who was sitting in one of the fireside chairs, watching the children play. She wore a floral dress and smart sandals and no one had been more surprised than Bella when she had said she would attend the party. 'She's been chatting to Emma and Victoria's mum as though she has known her years,' Dolly added. 'I even heard her talking about vegetables!'

  'Well, you can guess why,' Bella said meaningfully.

  'You mean, the man who fumigated her house?' Dolly's eyebrows shot up. 'What's he like? Does Teresa like him?'

  'Yes, it seems he's a good influence, as Teresa says she gets real carrots and greens on her plate, something unheard of before.'

  'He's not married is he?' Dolly asked with a frown.

  'His wife died years ago, apparently. He told me all about himself one day when I was round there. He was born and bred on the island and worked for the council all his life. He seems to have taken a liking to mum and she to him.'

  'Has he got a car?'

  'No. Only a bike and shanks's pony. He's coming to meet her this afternoon and stop for a cup of tea.'

  'But I thought she couldn't walk far.'

  'Her legs seem to be better now.' Bella smiled ruefully. 'As you can see by the stockings and nice sandals.' Bella glanced again at Mary. In a soft voice she said to Dolly, 'And she's still keeping the prefab clean. I always have a look around when we call for Teresa to go to the park. You should see the back garden as well. Even your dad would be impressed. All sorts of vegetables growing there just like - '

  'Doctor Carrot and Potato Pete!' both girls said at once and giggled together.

  Bella's smile disappeared as she met Mary's gaze. 'You'd better take this over, Dolly.'

  'Is one slice enough?'

  Bella caught the tease in Dolly's eye. As she watched Mary accept the cake and smile up at Dolly, she wondered if the improvement in attitude was down to the appearance of Gus. But whatever had brought about the change, Bella hoped it would continue. She wanted peace for the children's sake.

  As the eating and drinking ended, Bella decided it was time for a game. She had wrapped some toffees in paper, making a huge ball tied up with string. She gave it to Terry who was sitting on a stool in the corner.

  'Give this to o
ne of the children Terry,' she told him. 'We'll play pass the parcel and you can work the wireless.'

  Terry clutched the big parcel and took it over. He loved being with the children but Bella knew he hadn't spoken to Mary. Not that she seemed to have noticed as she sat drinking and eating and enjoying the attention showered on her.

  Bella reminded the children of the rules, leaving Terry in charge of the wireless. He liked music and knew that he was to turn the volume up and down at Bella's nod.

  The music that burst forth was Guy Mitchell's popular hit, She Wears Red Feathers and a Hula Hula Skirt.

  Dolly, Daisy and Mary began clapping along. Bella was astonished as suddenly her mother stood up and did a little twirl, waving her hands and singing loudly to the tune, obviously enjoying the party as much as the children.

  It was almost dark and Micky looked both ways along the street before walking up to terraced house in Hoxton. It wasn't a very salubrious area, but then Alfred Freshwater himself wasn't a very salubrious character. Bent from the toes upward, he was a man of many trades.

  'What d'yer want?' A small woman opened the door cautiously. She looked like everyone's old mum, but she was unique in the fact that it was said she could also turn out a fiver or two. In the background he could hear a dog snarling.

  'I want word with Alfred, Mrs F.'

  'What sorta word?'

  'A quick one.' He added with a wink. 'To do with what we was talking about last week if you get my meaning.'

  The old girl squinted, peered over his shoulder, then let him in. Micky paused in the gloom waiting for the smell of boiling cabbage and dogs. The Freshwaters kept a beast. And here it was, growling up at him, all froth and fangs.

  'Shut up you bugger,' Mr F shouted.

  'You going to put Fido away?' Micky asked nervously.

  'Nah. He'll do as he's told. Just don't make any quick moves.'

  'Where's Alfred?'

  'Same as always, under the boards.'

  Micky waited for her to take hold of the dog's collar, then he walked down the corridor. At the end of it he pulled back the corner of a heavy rug. Lifting the trap door, he was blinded by a light from the bowels of the earth. 'It's me, Micky. All right to come down, Alf?'