‘Goodness gracious!’
Mr Travis gawped at Faye’s bruised face. Finally he burst out, ‘What on earth has happened to you, my dear?’
‘I tripped over, Mr Travis,’ Faye lied, hoping this time she sounded convincing. So far she’d been obliged to fib to several people and all had avoided her eye whilst mumbling their sympathy for her accident.
Mr Travis shifted his gaze away too. He knew that she lived in Campbell Road amongst the dregs of North London society. It wasn’t unusual to see people who lived in The Bunk coming into the shop sporting black eyes or other signs of violence on their person. But Faye Greaves had seemed different: a beauty with nice manners, and, as a new arrival to the area, he had given her the benefit of the doubt. His customers had appreciated being served by her, but now it seemed she might be showing her true colours … or that of her family. She’d always been quite reticent about where she lived, and who lived there with her, but Mr Travis had been curious enough, having seen her talking with Rob Wild, to make a few enquiries. The last thing he’d wanted was one of his employees coming to hear of his mounting debts.
Mr Travis had thought their relationship might be romantic; Faye was such a pretty lass and Robert was known to be popular with the girls. But he’d discovered that Jimmy Wild was Faye’s stepfather, so the young couple were, in a roundabout way, related. He’d felt more at ease then, knowing it unlikely that Robert would discuss his business with his stepsister.
Jimmy Wild’s abusive nature was no secret to Mr Travis. He’d worked as his father’s assistant in the bakery before taking over the business on the old man’s death. In those days, the Wilds and their kin, the Keivers, were renowned as a bunch of ruffians best avoided. But of course he’d serve them as customers, selling them the stale loaves or misshapen buns that he’d discounted to shift. He could recall seeing Wild’s first wife, and his two sons, coming into the bakery bearing bruises, courtesy of Jimmy. Along with most people in the area, he’d been glad to hear of Jimmy’s demise. But it seemed the old bully was not an easy man to put down.
The shop bell clattered, cutting into Mr Travis’s musing.
‘Gawd luv us!’ he heard Mrs Dexter exclaim. ‘What’s happened to your lovely face, Faye?’
‘I fell off the kerb when I was running along and bashed my cheek. Stupid of me,’ Faye politely recited for the umpteenth time whilst buttoning her overall and keeping her bruises averted.
‘Go out the back and see if the delivery boy’s turned up yet,’ Mr Travis snapped at her.
She did as she was told, knowing that the very thing she’d feared might happen when her boss saw the state of her, was about to happen. Mr Travis was going to send her home because she looked a fright and it was upsetting his customers. She hoped desperately that he wouldn’t sack her. In a few days the worst of the swelling would subside, although she knew it might take a week or more before her complexion was properly back to normal. She couldn’t afford to lose a week’s money. She couldn’t afford to lose a day’s pay, for that matter – as her mother had pointed out when she’d got home with Michael yesterday evening.
They’d been expecting to be interrogated by Jimmy, but had found, to their relief, that he had gone out. They hadn’t seen him this morning either. Wherever he’d gone, he hadn’t returned by seven o’clock when she’d set off for work. It wasn’t the first time he’d been out all night and Faye knew her mother was starting to get suspicious. Faye hoped and prayed he had got himself another woman. With luck, he might be preparing to move in with the stupid fool …
Edie had swallowed the tale that Faye had turned her ankle on the kerb and fallen over. Her mother knew that, since they’d arrived in The Bunk, she and her brother had been bickering, so it hadn’t occurred to her to doubt that Faye had come a cropper while haring after Michael for giving her lip. Having applied a wet flannel to her daughter’s cheek, and called her a clumsy so-and-so, Edie’s first concern was what Mr Travis would make of it and how they would manage if he sent her packing as a result.
‘You should go off home, my dear,’ Mr Travis said, proving Faye’s anxieties, and her mother’s, well founded. He’d come in behind her, closing the door that led from the shop.
‘I’m fine, really, Mr Travis,’ Faye stammered, trying to smile in a way that was painless.
‘No, you’re not. And you can’t serve in the shop looking like that!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry, Faye, but you’ll have to go home. And if I can’t persuade Marge to do your shifts until that’s properly healed,’ he jabbed his forehead at her purple profile, ‘I’ll need to advertise for someone new.’ The sound of the shop bell made him start, and he reached for the door handle. Before disappearing back into the shop, he hissed at her, ‘Go on, take yourself off home – and go out the back way.’
Faye put on her coat. She stood outside the shop in the yard and cried silently. Even when the delivery boy turned up she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks, stinging the cut on her face. She ignored his slack-jawed gawping and sank down on to her haunches. Turning her face against gritty brickwork she inwardly railed at the injustice of it.
‘Saw that Greaves gel this morning,’ Beattie Evans announced to Matilda by way of greeting. ‘Should’ve seen the poor cow, Til. And there was me thinkin’ that Jimmy might’ve changed his ways. Don’t look like the brute has. Cor, Faye didn’t half look a state.’
Matilda stopped in her tracks. ‘Jimmy’s whacked her?’
‘Well, she says she bashed her face on the kerb when she fell over.’ Beattie slid Matilda a significant look. ‘I remember your Fran using that one …’
Matilda’s eyes narrowed, but she resumed her brisk pace towards the bus stop. ‘Ain’t nuthin’ to do with me no more, thank Gawd.’
‘Bet you’re glad o’ that ’n’ all,’ Beattie responded.
‘Never been gladder of anythin’ in me life.’ Matilda veered off to the left towards the bus queue.
‘Wonder what his sons’ll think when they find out he’s bashing up his new family?’ Beattie called after her.
Matilda had been wondering the same thing. She also knew that Alice had taken a bit of a shine to Edie’s daughter and would be upset to hear this news. From the sound of it, this Faye was no pushover. And Jimmy didn’t like women who answered back.
The people at the bus stop were stamping their feet and clapping gloved palms in an effort to keep warm on this frosty December morning. Tilly got on the end of the queue, so sunk in thought that she didn’t hear the car horn tooting. It wasn’t until her nephew wound down the window and offered her a lift that she was startled from her brooding. Tilly sauntered proudly forward and got into Rob’s shiny Tourer.
‘Where you off to, Aunt Til?’
‘Got a new client over Marylebone way. Been charring there fer a few weeks. Not sure I’ll keep it up. Bit of a trek, and the bus fare’s a cost I could do without. Running late this morning, so I’m glad to see you.’
She gave him a sideways look, wondering whether to share what Beattie had just told her or to mind her own business. She decided to get it off her chest. Years ago when they were motherless teenagers, her sister’s boys had been treated like her own sons. They were decent young fellows, even if Stephen had let himself down a bit by getting hooked up to a lazy slut. Matilda hadn’t been happy to learn that he’d fallen out with Rob, or that he’d given his father work. Considering that, out of the two brothers, it had been Stephen who’d borne the brunt of Jimmy’s beatings, Tilly was amazed he would even give his father the time of day. In her opinion, no good would come of them cosying up. Wherever Jimmy went, trouble was sure to follow – and Tilly reckoned Stevie had enough of that on his plate already, with that wife of his.
‘Just heard from Beattie that Edie Greaves’s daughter’s going around with a black eye.’
Rob shot her a stare then manoeuvred crazily to the side of the road, ignoring the blasts from car horns as he found the kerb and pulled up.
‘Jimmy’s hit her?’ Rob’s savage black eyes were fixed on his aunt’s face as he waited for her answer.
‘Can’t say for sure,’ Matilda said fairly. ‘According to Beattie, Faye reckons she fell over. She run into the poor cow this morning. And knowing what a miserable old git Travis is, he’ll have something to say about it.
Rob put the car back into gear and set off at such speed that his aunt was forced to cling to her seat and holler, ‘’Ere, steady on, Rob. I’d like to get to me lady in one piece, yer know.’
‘What on earth’s happened to you?’
Faye’s teeth ground together. If she heard that question one more time today … She turned to see Alice Chaplin closing the door of a house she’d just walked past in Moray Road. She liked Alice and gave a small welcoming smile as the young woman hurried forward. Alice peered closely at her damaged face, and then her eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. Faye knew she was blaming Jimmy Wild for her injury, as had everybody else who’d stared at her that morning.
For hours she’d been walking slowly through the back streets huddled into her coat with the collar turned up to hide her blemished cheek, but now she was heading back towards Campbell Road. She hadn’t wanted to go home and find Jimmy there. Once he saw her, he might guess people were pinning the blame on him and, with good reason, be properly narked. Faye began to trot out the usual excuse, then stopped and sighed. For some reason she didn’t want to lie to Alice. She’d already told her a secret and she believed that confidence had never been betrayed. They might not yet be proper friends, but Faye trusted her nevertheless. ‘Someone hit me,’ she said quietly. ‘It wasn’t your uncle, so don’t go blaming him.’
‘Who was it?’ Alice asked. She touched aside Faye’s collar to get a better look at the injury. There followed a genuine hiss of shock and dismay.
‘My brother Michael’s in with a bad crowd,’ Faye finally said.
‘Your brother didn’t do it?’ Alice sounded angry.
Faye shook her head. ‘It was somebody Michael’s been hanging around with. He’s about eighteen, I’d say. He certainly looks too old to be friendly with a bunch of school kids. I don’t know his name. I’m sure he doesn’t live in The Bunk. He was with Beattie Evans’s nephew and one of the Cummins boys. I think all the younger ones have been messing around with cigarettes and this thug has taken advantage of them somehow. Michael’s stolen my money to pay him off. I went after him and …’ Faye shrugged, knowing it was unnecessary to explain further.
‘I think I know who you mean,’ Alice burst out. ‘I’ve seen him a couple of times when I’ve been visiting Mum.’ She widened her eyes expressively. ‘His name’s Donald Bateman. They’re a rough lot, the Batemans. I don’t know why he’s hanging around here. I thought the lot of them had cleared off to South London years ago.’
‘Well, I wish he’d take himself off back there,’ Faye returned vehemently. ‘I think I’ve lost me job over it,’ she added gruffly. ‘Old Mr Travis nearly had a fit when he saw the state of me. He’s sent me home and told me not to come back till it’s better. If Marge can’t cover my shifts, he’s getting somebody new in.’
‘Never rains but it pours,’ Alice commiserated softly. ‘I’ll walk a ways with you,’ she added kindly, and slipped her hand through Faye’s arm. ‘Just been in to see me sister, Beth,’ she continued conversationally. ‘She’s got a top room with her husband and little girl.’ Alice jerked her head back to indicate the house from which she’d just emerged. ‘Beth doesn’t seem to mind sticking around here; I couldn’t wait to get away.’
‘That’s what I want … to get away. Cost’s though, doesn’t it?’
‘Oh, yeah … it certainly do,’ Alice said ruefully. She cast a sideways look at Faye. ‘But you’ll do it, same as I did. I know you will.’
They stood quietly for a moment close to the turning into Campbell Road.
‘Got to get the bus home to fetch Lilian from school. Too late to walk it.’
Faye nodded and faintly smiled farewell.
‘If you want to talk … you know, about things …’
Faye nodded again. ‘Yeah … thanks,’ she said, turning and walking slowly towards The Bunk.
A moment later Alice had caught up with her again.
‘I’m having a bit of a party on Christmas afternoon. I’d like it if you came along, and your little brother too. Lilian talks about him a lot. She’d love to see him. ’Course I couldn’t have Jimmy … not him … not after what’s gone on, so it’s not an invitation for everyone, you see …’
‘He was dreadful to your aunt, wasn’t he?’ Faye said gently. ‘It’s all right, you don’t have to say. I know what a brute he is. He’s thumped my mum, so I know …’
Alice dropped her gaze to the pavement. ‘You make sure you get away from him,’ she said huskily, ‘soon as you can.’ She looked up with a smile. ‘So I’d like it if you and Adam could come along for tea.’
‘Well … I … umm …’ Faye mumbled. She wanted desperately to accept, but, caught unawares, she wasn’t sure how to respond until she’d spoken to her mother. Nothing much would take place in theirs over the Christmas holiday. If they managed to put a boiled bacon dinner on the table it would be a treat. But she felt guilty that her mother and Michael might feel left out if she went to a party. She just knew that at the Chaplins there would be good things to eat, and good company to enjoy, and she felt selfish and ashamed for longing to be part of it.
‘No need to tell me yes or no,’ Alice said. ‘Just turn up. Mum’ll let you have the address, or Rob will.’