A charity football match was held between TV personalities and Welsh internationals during the day and, later that evening, our all-star gala at Cardiff’s New Theatre began. The place was absolutely packed out as Johnny closed the first half of the show to rapturous applause.
‘They seemed to like it,’ he gasped as he came running off the stage.
‘They loved you, Johnny. You knocked them out!’
I felt proud of Johnny and the other entertainers; proud to be part of such a fantastic fundraising show. Afterwards, still on a high of adrenalin, the cast decided to head across the road to the Park Hotel for a drink. Glasses were raised as we chinked them together in celebration of a job well done.
‘You were great, Johnny. You were the hit of the show!’ one of the other performers remarked.
Johnny bowed his head and blushed. He was a natural comedian but he was also a very modest man. We took our drinks and went over to sit with Eddie Thomas and his wife Kay. Eddie had taken part in the show, although he was a boxing promoter, not a performer. The four of us were good friends and we got on famously even though our professional paths very rarely crossed.
Eddie organised boxing in a West End club and he’d often invite Johnny along as his guest. Heartbreakingly, Eddie had also been one of the first people on the scene of the Aberfan disaster. He’d once been a miner, so he used his expertise to help organise the rescue attempts. He’d brought some of the children’s bodies up himself along with the miners from Merthyr Vale, carrying them to a temporary mortuary set up inside Bethania chapel. Although he was a former boxer and an all-round tough guy, Eddie was also a very sensitive man. He didn’t like to talk about what had happened that day, but everyone knew what he’d done and the whole community never ever forgot his efforts.
As the two boys started chatting about the evening, I took a seat next to Kay and sipped slowly at my gin and tonic. I’d only taken one or two sips when Kay’s face changed expression from one of happiness to one of complete horror. The colour had drained from her face and she began to slide down in her chair, cursing and muttering away to herself. She held her glass up in front of her mouth to try to disguise her words, but I was close enough to hear.
‘Fucking hell!’ she gasped. ‘What on earth are they doing here?’
‘Who?’ I said, following her gaze and about to turn in my chair.
‘No, Pat! Don’t!’ she hissed, tapping me on the arm. ‘They might see you looking!’ she panicked.
But I couldn’t help myself. I had to see who on earth she was talking about and what she was so afraid of.
As I turned my head, I spotted a group of very suave young men coming in through the door. They were all suited and booted with Brylcreemed hair and sharp suits. Their suits were grey and extremely well-tailored and expensive looking. Two of the men, in particular, seemed almost identical, as though they were brothers. I noticed that, although their suits were well cut, they also seemed to be bulging forward around the inside breast pockets. I presumed they must have something stuffed in them – possibly a bunched up handkerchief.
‘But who are they?’ I asked, completely clueless as to why Kay was cursing away.
‘It’s the Kray twins,’ she hissed through gritted teeth. Her face was as white as a sheet.
I looked over towards Eddie, but he didn’t say a word. Johnny was also strangely silent. It was as though everyone had heard of these twins – everyone apart from me.
‘But who are the Kray twins?’ I demanded to know.
Kay looked up at me through her long eyelashes as though I’d gone completely mad.
‘What, do you really mean you’ve never heard of the Krays before?’
‘Nope, I’ve never heard of them. Why? Should I have? Are they famous?’ I asked, thinking they must be actors or something.
Kay snorted. It was clear she didn’t think what I’d just said was funny at all. I watched as the twins and their friends sat down in some chairs opposite us. I looked back at Kay and asked her to enlighten me.
‘It’s the Kray twins, Pat. They’re bloody murderers! That’s what they are,’ she said in her soft Welsh lilt.
I looked at Kay, then at the brothers and back again.
‘Murderers!’ I exclaimed. ‘Why, who do they murder?’
Kay put her finger against her mouth as her eyes widened with fear.
‘Shush, Pat. They might hear you!’
I presumed that, because Kay was married to Eddie, the Krays must be involved in the boxing world.
‘Are they boxers then?’
Kay, who had just sat back up, was about to answer me when she began to slide down in her chair once more.
‘Jesus!’ she gasped, almost crossing herself. ‘Don’t look now but they’re coming over!’
I turned to see a man, who wasn’t one of the brothers, walk over towards our table. My eyes darted back towards Kay. She looked as though she was going to die of fright.
‘Excuse me,’ the man said, tapping Johnny lightly on the shoulder.
I noticed his body stiffen underneath the man’s touch.
‘Yes,’ Johnny replied, looking at him with a polite smile.
The man dipped down and whispered something in Johnny’s ear. I craned my neck towards them so that I could hear.
‘The boys wondered if you could just come over for a minute because they want to have a word.’
My heart beat furiously inside my chest as I watched my husband stand up and walk across the bar towards the Kray twins.
I turned to face Kay. By now, her eyes were on stalks.
‘What do you think they want with Johnny?’ She gasped, her mouth hanging open.
I shrugged.
‘I haven’t a clue. Why? Do you think I should be worried?’
Eddie and Kay looked each other and then back at me.
‘They are murderers, Pat!’ Kay hissed. ‘East End gangsters. They’re well known for it. I can’t believe you don’t know who they are.’
‘But what do they want with Johnny? He’s not a gangster. He’s a comedian!’
Kay put down her drink on the table with such force that the alcohol rose up and spilt over the edge of the glass, soaking her beer mat.
‘I don’t know,’ She replied looking up. ‘But I think we’re about to find out. Here comes Johnny now.’
As Johnny returned, I noticed his face was clouded over with worry. It made me nervous but, at the same time, I needed to know what the Krays wanted with him.
‘Is everything all right?’ I asked, resting my hand on his arm gently. He slumped down into his chair as though the stuffing had been knocked from him.
‘Yes, yes,’ he muttered. Johnny picked up his pint of bitter and took a nervous gulp. ‘Everything’s fine.’
Kay leaned forward, her eyes burning with curiosity.
‘But what did they want, the Kray twins?’
Johnny looked at his pint and placed it back down on the table.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It was all a bit strange.’
‘Strange. Why?’ Kay asked. It was clear she was dying to know – we all were.
‘Well,’ Johnny said, looking over one shoulder to check that no one could hear him. ‘The boys wanted to know how I could do a performance like the one I did tonight and not be a bigger star.’
I nodded because I agreed with the Krays.
‘And what did you say when they asked you that?’ Kay asked, leaning forward in her chair.
‘I said I didn’t know.’
‘And then what happened?’
‘Well, that was it, you see. They asked if anyone was holding me back.’
I was puzzled.
‘But why did they ask you that?’
Johnny shrugged.
‘I don’t know. But maybe it’s got something to do with that man on the committee – you know, the camp fella.’
And that’s when it hit me. I recalled the moment when the old theatrical had promised to ‘have a word with the boys’. But I’d been worried one of the agents had been ‘blocking’ the show, not Johnny’s career. I gasped because, suddenly, it all fell into place.
Kay turned away from Johnny for the first time to look at me.
‘What is it, Pat?’
I explained all about the trouble we’d had booking the acts, and why I thought the Krays had come to the show.
‘So they know one of the organisers?’ Kay gasped.
‘Yeah, I think so. That must be why they turned up here for tonight’s show.’
Kay exhaled and fell back in her chair.
‘Talk about friends in high places!’
But Johnny hadn’t finished.
‘That’s not all,’ he said, picking up the beer mat and twiddling it around nervously in between his fingers.
‘Why, what else did they say?’
‘Erm, the boys asked if they could represent me.’
Kay rolled her eyes and exhaled a deep breath.
‘Johnny,’ she said, grabbing his hand in hers. Her face was deadly serious. ‘Tell me you said no. Promise me you won’t have anything to do with them.’
‘Why not?’ I asked, sensing a good business opportunity. ‘If they want to represent him, why not?’
Kay looked at me as though I’d just lost the plot.
‘Because they are murderers, Pat!’
‘To be honest, Kay, I don’t think I have any say in the matter anyway,’ Johnny butted in. ‘I’ve given them our home telephone number. I’m sorry, Pat, but I couldn’t say no – not to the Krays.’
‘Its fine, Johnny,’ I replied, patting his hand in reassurance. ‘It’ll be all right. Everything will work out fine, just you mark my words.’
And it did. But we never did receive the call.
One day, I was pottering around at home when Johnny shouted at me to come into the kitchen.
‘Pat, here!’ he called.
I ran through to the other room, where I found him crouched over the radio, listening intently.
‘It’s the Krays,’ he said, pointing at the radio. ‘They’ve just been arrested.’
That evening we watched a news report. Detectives from Scotland Yard had arrested the brothers, along with fifteen other members of their ‘firm’. With the twins safely locked inside their cells, their reign of intimidation was finally over. This had helped bring more witnesses forward. Following a subsequent trial at the Old Bailey, the Krays, along with fourteen others, were convicted. Both brothers were sentenced to life imprisonment, with a non-parole period of thirty years, for the murders of George Cornell – an associate of a rival gang – and Jack ‘the hat’ McVitie, whose body was never found. Their sentences were the longest ones ever passed down at the time.
‘Oh, well,’ I said, standing up to switch off the television set. ‘That’s another boat we’ve missed.’
Years later, I discovered that Reggie Kray had given the largest single amount to the Aberfan Aid fund by an individual. He’d donated £100 from himself and his brother, Ronnie, and had handed it over on the night of the show. The £100 donation may not sound much but, back in the day, it was worth the equivalent of £3,000 in today’s money. It was a time when a pint of beer cost 8p and a loaf of bread only 5p. In spite of their reputation, protection rackets, murder and long-term frauds, when it came to charity, it seemed the Krays were more generous than most.