Rivals

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Rivals Page 12

by Sam Michaels


  ‘I’ve known Cyril for donkey’s years. He was a friend of your grandfather. Nice bloke, or so I thought until I heard he was working for Norman Wilcox. Talk about ironic, eh,’ Dulcie said.

  ‘I haven’t got round to meeting him yet but I’ll send him your regards, Gran.’

  ‘Yes, you do that.’

  ‘The one thing I really don’t like and I’m changing, is the loans for mothers. Bruce looked after that side and now he’s gone. I want you on it, Fanny.’

  ‘Me?’ Fanny exclaimed. ‘But I can’t rough up the women who can’t keep up their repayments. Gawd, Georgina, I know all about how Bruce did things. There was many a time when I was tempted to go to him but then thought better of it. I took enough bleedin’ hidings from my old man, let alone getting a clout or two from Bruce.’

  ‘There won’t be any roughing up of the mothers and the interest rates are going to be next to nothing. That should help to make repayments easier.’

  ‘How are we gonna make money from it then?’ Fanny asked.

  ‘We won’t, well, not much.’

  ‘I see, so what are we now, a bloody charity?’ Fanny snapped. ‘More of Molly’s money going down the drain.’

  ‘No, Fanny, far from it. But I’ve been wrestling with my conscience and we either cut the loans to mothers altogether or we offer an affordable alternative.’

  ‘You’re going soft in the head. Once them women get wind of easy money available with no slaps for non-payment, they’ll take the piss, you mark my words,’ Dulcie warned.

  ‘I’m sorry, Georgina, but I think your gran is right,’ Fanny added. ‘I know what it’s like to be desperate and not to be able to feed your kids. You’ll be dishing out money hand over fist.’

  ‘All right, I’ll have a think about it; see what else I can come up with. But in a nutshell, that’s it all pretty much covered. There’s the commission on the rent collections but that’s something I want to look into.’

  ‘How do you mean, love?’ Dulcie asked.

  ‘Well, we get Queenstown Road rent free in exchange for collecting rents from the landlord’s other properties. I don’t think it leaves us in a secure position. We need to own property, like Livingstone Road and the house in Clapham. But with me cutting the traders insurance, paying the prostitutes and stopping the mothers’ loans, there’s not as much profit as there once was. I need a cash injection for investment, but leave it with me ’cos I’m working on something.’

  Molly smiled warmly at her friend. ‘I think you’re doing an amazing job, Georgina. Thanks to you, Mum’s looking at a new place to rent tomorrow, ain’t that right, Mum?’

  ‘Yes, its only round the corner but I’d have my own front door and my own bedroom. Ethel and Charlotte will still share ’cos I’m keeping a room spare for Molly.’

  ‘That’s nice, but why the room for Molly? She’s fine at Jane’s and someone needs to be there to keep an eye on Ivy,’ Georgina said.

  ‘She’d be happier with me. And anyway, what are you gonna do with that Ivy girl?’

  Before Georgina could answer Fanny, they heard hammering on the front door. Fanny was nearest to the window and jumped up from the sofa to look outside. ‘It’s a young lad,’ she said.

  Georgina went to open the door and immediately recognised the boy she’d sent on an errand before. He looked pale-faced and wide-eyed.

  ‘You’ve gotta come quick, miss. It’s Ivy. She’s been smashed up real bad,’ he cried hysterically and yanked on Georgina’s sleeve.

  ‘Hang on, slow down. Tell me what’s happened.’

  ‘I dunno, I just saw her come home… Come on, quick,’ he urged again.

  Georgina reached round for her coat from the newel post. Molly and Fanny were both in the hallway now.

  ‘Ivy’s been hurt. Stay here, I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ she told them and ran with the boy towards Jane’s house.

  She was soon running through Jane’s front door and found Ivy semi-conscious on the sofa. She quickly glanced over her but it was obvious the worst of her injuries had been inflicted to her face. Ivy had a deep cut above her eyebrow, her nose looked broken and there were copious amounts of blood around her swollen mouth. Georgina bit on her bottom lip. Who could have done such a heinous thing to a young girl?

  ‘Ivy, it’s me, Georgina, Miss Garrett. Can you hear me?’

  Ivy groaned and slowly opened her bruised eyes.

  ‘Who did this to you?’

  ‘A punter, Miss G.’

  Ivy lisped as she spoke and Georgina could see at least two of her front teeth were missing. ‘Do you know his name?’ she asked.

  ‘It hurts, miss, really hurts.’

  ‘All right, you rest now. I’ll get the doctor and we can talk later.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Am I in trouble?’

  ‘No, sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing,’ Georgina answered and stroked the girls’ blood-matted hair back from her face.

  As Ivy slipped into unconsciousness, Georgina went to the telephone table and briefly paused. Her lips set in a grim line and her violet eyes narrowed. Was history repeating itself? She’d once been battered beyond recognition on Billy Wilcox’s orders and had lain unconscious on their sofa at home. In the end Billy hadn’t got away with it, and she was determined to ensure that neither would whoever did this to Ivy.

  *

  That same evening, on the other side of Battersea in a mid-terraced house, Jimmy Hewitt closed his eyes and tried to block out his wife’s incessant whinging. Her squeaky, high-pitched tone grated on him and he knew if he looked at her sour face, he’d be tempted to slap it. He’d had a fascinating and fulfilling evening but now his wife’s nagging was spoiling the exhilarating memory of it.

  He was sat in an armchair, spent, close to the fire whilst his wife had walked across the dim room to peep through the net curtains and onto the street.

  ‘I don’t know why you had to drag us over here to this shithole. I was quite happy in Blackheath. It was like the countryside compared to this filthy pit. And the neighbours, well, don’t get me started. Common, they are. Common as muck,’ she said.

  Jimmy had heard it all before, at least a dozen times since they’d moved into the two-up two-down. Granted, it was a step down from the semi-detached house opposite the green that they’d rented, but now that David Maynard had sacked him from the company, it was all he could afford. Anyway, Jimmy needed to be in Battersea. He’d heard about a woman running the Wilcox business and to him, this sounded like an opportunity for an easy takeover.

  ‘Are you listening to me, Husband?’ his wife asked.

  Jimmy opened his eyes to see her standing in front of him with a scowl on her lined and podgy face and her arms folded. She was wearing her housecoat and her salt and pepper hair was in rollers under a garish scarf. He must have loved her once, maybe when they’d married twenty-five years earlier, but she’d been barren and being childless seemed to have left her bitter. But she was loyal to him and kept his sordid secrets. Like it or lump it, he couldn’t leave her and risk her blabbing about his sadistic sexual ways.

  He eyed her up and down. A short woman, she was as round as she was tall and for a moment, Jimmy wondered if he pushed her over, would she roll? ‘Yes, Wife, I’m listening,’ he answered.

  ‘That David Maynard has got a lot to answer for. You’ve been good to him over the years, and his father before him. You’ve always done as they wanted. One silly mistake and this is how we end up paying for it!’

  ‘It was a bit more than a silly mistake.’

  ‘Aw, come off it. How was you supposed to know that she was married to a copper? The silly cow shouldn’t have been on the hill at that time of night. No woman in her right mind would have been there unless she was an old tom. She should have known better, and you should have spoken up for yourself to Mr Maynard!’

  Jimmy reached across for his pipe and sucked hard on it as he held a match to the tobacco. His wife was on one now and he knew she wasn’t f
inished yet.

  ‘That’s your bloody problem: you never speak up for yourself. Did you try and explain to Mr Maynard? No, of course you didn’t. You wouldn’t want him knowing about your little collection, would you? No, that wouldn’t do. Jimmy Hewitt, The Dentist. David Maynard’s right-hand man who extracts the teeth of them who wrong Maynard’s little empire. Oh dear, we couldn’t have Mr Maynard knowing about the other teeth you take out, could we?’ she sneered.

  ‘Leave it,’ Jimmy snapped, feeling she was going to belittle him again.

  ‘No, I won’t and why should I? It’s me that has to pay the consequences for your sick perversion! It’s me who has to put up with living in this shitting dump! It’s all right for me to have to live with what you get up to but woe betide anyone else finding out about it! Oh no, we couldn’t possibly let David Maynard know that you like to fuck whores and yanking out their teeth turns you on. You sick bastard. It’s bad enough I turn a blind eye to it but to keep their teeth in that jar upstairs as souvenirs is just horrible. It turns my stomach, it really does.’

  ‘All right, all right, I’m sorry I forgot to put it away in my drawer.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Whether that jar is on my dressing table or hidden in your drawer, I still know it’s there. Can’t you just get rid of it?’

  Jimmy straightened his back and glared at his wife. ‘No, and don’t you dare think about slinging it out.’

  ‘Huh,’ Daisy grunted and threw her chubby bulk down in the seat opposite him. ‘Don’t worry, Husband, I’m not touching that jar, not even if my life depended on it. But my point is, if you’d explained to Mr Maynard about it being a genuine mistake and you thought that woman was a prostitute, I’m sure he would have turned a blind eye and we wouldn’t be stuck here now.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have made a difference. He had to get rid of me or kill me, otherwise he would have had Scotland Yard on his back.’

  ‘If you say so. Still, I suppose what’s done is done, but you’d better start working on how you’re going to get your hands on this Wilcox business. I don’t want be living in this squalor for any longer than I have to.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Wife, it’s all in hand,’ Jimmy answered as he savoured the mellow aroma of his tobacco and recalled the pleasure he’d had this evening. When he’d pulled the teeth on the young tart’s face, her agonised expression had been delightful and he’d climaxed in his trousers. He’d been careful this time and kept his scarf pulled over his face. She could live, unlike some of the others. He hadn’t enjoyed killing them. He took no pleasure in corpses. A dead face could bleed but it didn’t express pain. Anyway, he needed her. The tart had been part of his carefully thought-out plan. He’d done his research well. He knew all about Georgina Garrett and the women in her so-called club. The Maids of Battersea – huh, he thought to himself. Once he had his way, they’d all be begging him for mercy.

  13

  The following morning, Georgina held the usual weekly meeting in the office with her men. This time, compared to last, she felt there was a little more respect in the room.

  ‘Right, just a couple more things before we finish,’ she said. ‘You’ve probably all heard by now that Bruce is no longer working for the company.’

  ‘Serves him bloody right,’ one of the Barker twins said and the other added, ‘We never liked the sly bastard.’

  ‘Well, if any of you did and would like a memento of him, I’m pretty sure there’s a few bits of him in the grate in the room next door.’

  ‘Fuck me, Miss Garrett, that’s a bit rough,’ Johnny Dymond said, smirking.

  ‘I don’t muck about, Johnny. If anyone crosses me, that’s what happens. Bruce ain’t dead but he ain’t quite all together, if you get my drift.’

  ‘Fair enough and if Willy don’t make his repayments this week, I’ll remind him of what happened to Bruce,’ Johnny said, which caused a few of the men to chuckle.

  ‘On another note, a girl was hurt last night. I realise it ain’t unusual for the prostitutes who aren’t under our protection to get roughed up, but some of you may know Ivy. She’s no longer working at Livingstone Road but she’s still one of ours.’

  ‘I know Ivy, mouthy little tart but sweet with it. Is she all right, Miss Garrett?’ Ned asked.

  ‘Yes, but this weren’t someone giving her a backhander. It was a bit odd. The bloke took out her front teeth.’

  ‘What, punched ’em out?’

  ‘No, Ned, that’s why I find this odd… He pulled them out, with pliers, and she reckons he enjoyed doing it. Do any of you know who might have done this?’

  The men glanced around at each other and shook their heads, then Knuckles spoke. ‘The Dentist. He works for the Maynards. He’s the only geezer I know who takes out teeth.’

  ‘What’s he doing on my patch and why would he target Ivy?’

  ‘I dunno, Miss Garrett. I ain’t saying it was definitely him.’

  ‘I want you all to keep your eyes and ears open. I ain’t having this sort of thing going on in Battersea. If you get wind of who did it, come straight to me.’

  Knuckles began to chortle. ‘Are you gonna set Varvara on him?’ he asked.

  ‘No, this one’s for me,’ Georgina answered gravely.

  The room cleared and Georgina sat back at her desk but she had a knot in her stomach, which was making her feel sick. The meeting with the men had gone well but she knew she’d have to meet Cunningham next. He was a policeman and Georgina had a deeply rooted hatred for all coppers, especially bent ones. This one had been on Billy’s and then Mickey’s payroll so now she’d inherited him. She could only hope that he wasn’t one of the policemen who’d abused her so appallingly when she’d been arrested for a murder that she hadn’t committed. The awful memory of what had happened in the police station cell would never leave her. She’d had some retribution when she’d blown up the station, and though her actions had caused the death of a few coppers, most of her abusers were still on the force. If Cunningham walked in and she recognised him as one of them, Georgina wasn’t sure if she’d be able to control herself.

  Benjamin’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  ‘Miss Garrett… Miss Garrett…’

  ‘Yes. Sorry, Benjamin, I was miles away.’

  ‘I, erm, err, I, I’d like to suggest an investment for you. A relatively small outlay for good returns. Due to the changes you are implementing and the split of profits, the income forecast for the business is taking a downward turn. To counteract this, I firmly recommend you…’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Benjamin. Look, I’m sorry to cut in but can we have this discussion later?’

  ‘Erm, yes, yes, certainly.’

  Georgina was already fully aware that she needed an increase in revenue and had some ideas but right now, she couldn’t think straight. Not when at any minute, Knuckles could be showing in one of the policemen who’d tried to sodomise her with a truncheon. Her hand rested on the handle of the drawer where she kept Willy’s gun. If she were to shoot him, she wouldn’t use the pistol Lash had given her. But murdering a policeman – it could be her downfall and she’d swing for his death. She knew it was a terrible idea but could she resist blowing out the copper’s brain? The thought was so appealing and she was very tempted.

  *

  ‘It’s perfect, Mum,’ Molly said as she and Fanny headed back to Jane’s house.

  They’d just viewed a new property for Fanny to rent and the smile on the woman’s face told Molly that her mother was pleased with what they’d seen.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t move in with me and the girls?’ Fanny asked.

  ‘No, thanks, Mum. Jane could be in hospital for ages and someone needs to keep an eye on Ivy, especially now she’s been hurt.’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, I feel sorry for the girl, but she ain’t your responsibility, or Georgina’s.’

  ‘I know, but once she’s recovered, Georgina will get her working for her keep.’

  Fanny scowled. ‘Yeah, t
hen what? After this one, there’s bound to be another and what about this business with the mothers’ loans? What’s happening to Georgina? Anyone would think she’s taking over the National Relief Fund.’

  Molly looked at her mother in disbelief. She couldn’t understand why Fanny had become so mean-hearted. ‘Why are you being like this, Mum?’ she asked.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I dunno… horrid. You’ve not been very nice to Georgina lately. If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t be moving into the nice house we’ve just seen.’

  ‘Oh, Molly, take your blinkers off. It’s thanks to you that I’m moving home and can finally jack in me cleaning job at the hospital.’

  ‘How do you work that out?’ Molly asked.

  ‘Well, you was the one that had to suffer Billy. It’s your business, not Georgina’s. She’s in it for what she can get. She ain’t doing you no favours. How come she gets the biggest cut of the profits, eh? It’s your company, you should be getting the lion’s share.’

  ‘Leave it out, Mum. If Georgina hadn’t taken it over, none of us would be getting anything. You should be a bit more bloody grateful. You ain’t had to do nothing, yet you’re still getting paid. She don’t have to dish the money out to you, you know,’ Molly snapped. She didn’t like to use that tone to talk to her mother but Fanny’s attitude wasn’t very nice.

  ‘I’ve got more rights than that Ivy who’s getting housed, fed and watered.’

  ‘After what that poor girl’s been through, you’re not telling me you resent a kind hand being offered to her?’

  Fanny sucked in a deep breath. ‘No, of course I don’t. I’m just worried that Georgina’s being overgenerous in the wrong places and you’ll lose out on what’s rightfully yours.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum. Georgina knows what she’s doing.’

  As they arrived outside of Jane’s house, Fanny went to the front of Edward’s pram to help lift it over the step. From out of nowhere, a short, smartly dressed man appeared.

 

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