‘He ain’t here, I tell you.’ Edie planted her fists on her hipbones and stuck up her chin. He might be a good-looking fellow with plenty of money; he might also be Jimmy’s son, but he wasn’t going to ride roughshod over her. She told him so. ‘Don’t think you can come round here throwing yer weight around, Robert Wild. I don’t care who you think you are, you ain’t bullyin’ me.’
‘That Jimmy’s job, is it?’ Rob remarked scathingly.
Edie coloured as that hit home. ‘Come in and see, if you don’t believe me. He ain’t here. Ain’t seen him since yesterday.’
‘Count yerself lucky then, can’t you,’ Rob muttered, striding past her into the room. The little boy, Adam, was sitting up at the table, a cup of milky tea in front of him. He grinned as though he remembered him, and Robert’s lips involuntarily twitched in response.
‘See, he ain’t here. I’m just waiting for me son … me other son …’ she corrected herself, ‘to get back from school so’s he can watch out fer the little ’un this afternoon. I’ve got me job to get to.’
Rob opened the door to the back room and looked into a space that was empty but for decrepit furniture. He’d spent twenty years of his life in just such a room. As he turned back, the door opened and Faye walked in. On seeing him she stopped dead with a stricken expression.
Edie gawped at her daughter. ‘Early, ain’t you? What you doing back?’ Her face dropped. ‘Oh … don’t tell me the bleeder’s sent you home ’cos of how you look.’ The lack of response told Edie she’d hit the nail right on the head. In her agitation she barely noticed that her daughter seemed to be staring at the wall in an effort to conceal her ugly injury from Rob Wild. ‘Well, I’d better get meself off to work then,’ Edie snapped. ‘One of us needs to pull somethin’ in, or we’ll be getting turfed out by the bailiffs.’ With that she stomped to the door and ripped her coat off the peg.
‘What happened to you?’
‘What are you doing here?’
The moment the door closed behind Edie they blurted out their questions simultaneously, voices rising in volume.
Rob strode towards her and angled his head to see her damaged profile as she tried to turn it from him. ‘I said, what happened to you?’
‘I fell over.’
He laughed, a vicious sound that sent a shiver through her. ‘’Course you did,’ he agreed, softly. ‘My mum used to fall over a lot. She’d trip down the stairs too, or crack her head on the wardrobe. Thing is, it was usually when she hadn’t been drinking. Anyhow, it was all her own fault – clumsy cow.’
Faye felt her heart beating furiously. She was vain enough not to want him, of all people, to see her looking like this. Much as she despised Jimmy Wild, she couldn’t back a rumour that he was the one who’d set about her. But that hadn’t stopped people who knew his reputation from jumping to that conclusion. She’d seen it in Beattie Evans’s eyes, and Alice’s.
‘It wasn’t your father … he’s not laid a finger on me.’
‘Yeah … I remember you told me that before.’ His eyes veered to the boy, who was trying to get down from the table. Adam slid off the chair, bumping his chin in the process, and started to grizzle.
Faye picked up her son and his crying made her composure crumble. Tears welled in her eyes again, wetting her lashes before being blinked back. It had been hours since Mr Travis had sent her home. She’d been aimlessly tramping the cold streets before bumping into Alice Chaplin. Anything rather than come back here to face her mother’s whining about what the loss of her earnings would mean.
‘Oh, just piss off, will you,’ Faye choked. ‘It’s not your father’s fault, so you can go away with a clear conscience.’ She looked up at him through bleary vision. ‘You’re itching for a reason to have a fight with him, aren’t you?’ She turned about, hugging Adam to her, burying her throbbing face in his silky hair. ‘Well, I’m not going to give it to you, so go away.’
‘Has Travis sacked you?’
‘Don’t know.’ She choked a little laugh. ‘Probably.’
‘Do you still want the job?’
‘Of course I do.’
She let him take Adam from her and set him down on the floor. As he took her arm and drew her closer, she dragged back. But he persisted, tugging her forward until she rested against him, trembling. One of his hands rose and tenderly cupped the damaged side of her face. ‘If I find out you’re lying, and someone did this to you, there’ll be murders.’
‘I’m not … honest,’ Faye mumbled and rested her weary forehead on his shoulder. His warmth and comfort were soon whipped away as Adam started to grizzle again and determinedly wedged himself between them.
Then Michael came in and swung a look between her and Rob. He swallowed and licked his lips nervously. He seemed about to turn and go out again but with a gruff mutter he rushed on through into the back room.
Faye recognised Rob’s thoughtful look pinned to the closed door. She pivoted away from him before that penetrating gaze could be transferred to her. She’d sooner lie and say Jimmy was to blame for her injuries than embroil her brother in trouble that might be much more serious than she’d first thought.
‘Bleedin’ hell! What you done to yerself?’ Jimmy was gawping at Faye from the threshold.
‘I fell over and bashed meself on the pavement,’ Faye muttered and, picking up Adam, she plonked him back at the table then took the chair next to him.
Any lingering suspicion of his father’s guilt withered away as Rob saw genuine shock and amazement drop Jimmy’s jaw.
‘How’s she come by them marks?’ Jimmy turned his attention to his eldest son. Having inflicted similar damage on women over the years, he squinted judiciously at Rob’s knuckles for scraped skin.
‘That’s what I’m here to find out,’ Rob answered levelly. He’d immediately recognised the unsubtle accusation and the underlying hint of masculine pride. His father was pleased to think one of his boys might have taken after him and given a mouthy woman a smack to keep her in line.
‘Yeah … ’course, yer only here to see her.’ Jimmy swung a leer between the young couple. ‘Didn’t think you’d be here visiting me, son.’ He shrugged off his jacket. ‘So, none the wiser then how she’s come by that black eye?’
‘You both deaf?’ Faye cried. ‘I just said: I tripped over in the street and bashed me cheek on the kerb.’ She shoved back her chair and, swinging Adam into her arms, disappeared into the back room, slamming the door after her.
‘Touchy, ain’t she?’ Jimmy stared at the closed door then settled a sidling look on his son. ‘Got anything to say about yer interest in that direction, considering I’m her dad?’
‘Yeah, I’ve got something to say: you’re not her dad, and if I see one mark on her, or any of ’em, I’m gonna assume it was you. If the little ’un gets a grazed knee, I’m gonna think it’s your fault and be back to lay you out. So you’d best make sure you take real good care of them.’ He grunted a harsh laugh. ‘Not easy for you, I know, but let’s pretend you’re capable of it … eh?’ He pushed past him towards the door, but before exiting the room he asked acidly, ‘How’s that old tart Nellie doing?’
Rob was gone before Jimmy could think of an answer to that one. His son had guessed what’d kept him away overnight, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before Edie cottoned on too. So far she’d been none the wiser when he’d said that he was kipping at his pal’s house because a gambling school was going on till late. She’d had a bit of a grumble, but shut up smartish when he’d pulled out a couple of half-crowns and said they were his winnings, and she could have them for the rent. It had been almost all of his commission from Nellie’s earnings that night and he’d resented giving it up just to keep Edie sweet. He wasn’t certain yet that he and Nellie were on an even keel and, until he was, he wasn’t about to slacken his hold on Edie. Not when she might still come in useful. Jimmy thought it best to hedge his bets for the time being.
Nellie wasn’t the Nellie of old. For a start, she was refusing to hand over the thick end of her pay to him, as she once had, for looking out for her. Last night she’d turned up less than a quid strolling the streets around Finsbury Park for a bit of business to take back to the room he’d rented for her. In desperation, Jimmy had swallowed the cost of a cab to get her up west in time for the theatres chucking out. She’d done a bit better with the gents around the side streets near Shaftesbury Avenue. Already he was losing patience with her lazy ways and itching to slap some sense into her. But he knew that, just as she was no longer the shivering slip of a girl she’d once been, he wasn’t as fit and energetic these days. If he landed her one it was likely she’d hit him back. She was built like a shot-putter now and scraping the barrel for punters over the years had toughened her up. She’d not stopped drinking, or lost any weight, and he’d had to shell out for cosmetics and fancy clothes to try to disguise the fact she was nothing but a fat old bag.
Added to that irritation, and constantly at the back of his mind, was the threat that Saul Bateman presented. Nellie had clammed up on the subject and wouldn’t tell him any more. Jimmy knew that she was frightened of Bateman and his associates; it only took a mention of his name to make her wince and whiten. As a result, Jimmy was becoming increasingly uneasy. He was desperate to know exactly where in London Bateman was operating so he could give him a wide berth. In the meantime it was tempting fate, venturing into London’s heartland with Nellie, but that was where the money was. Even with stiff competition from the fresh young birds parading about Soho, a rough old boiler like Nellie could soon pull in enough to make the trip worthwhile. He cast a look at the back room. Considering the three kids were behind the door it seemed unusually quiet. He sat down at the table and gave the teapot a feel and a shake. It was lukewarm and virtually empty causing him to scowl. He rolled a smoke instead, frowning, as he turned his mind back to his stepdaughter’s bruise. Something was going on but he’d let Edie sort that one out. He’d got enough on his plate.
Faye heard the door shut after Rob and quelled an urge to run after him and beg him to take her and Adam with him, whatever that might cost her.
Michael had heard the sound too and, knowing the coast was clear, he gave up his pretence of dozing on the mattress on the floor. He reared up on an elbow and demanded hoarsely, ‘You told Jimmy’s flash son about what went on?’
Faye shook her head.
‘You better not’ve done ’n’ all,’ Michael growled, but relief was apparent in his voice. ‘Goin’ out … hungry,’ he mumbled. In a second he’d scrambled to his feet and slipped from the room.
Faye knew her brother was feeling guilty over what had happened, but Michael had yet to apologise, or even acknowledge that he was to blame. It was clear he was worried about any further repercussions that might ensue. Everybody hereabouts knew that you didn’t upset a powerful man like Rob Wild. Faye had heard hints and whispers – mostly from Marge, who admitted to having a bit of a pash for him – that in the past Rob had seen off rivals who tried to encroach on his territory. Faye had deduced that he was the local heartthrob, and that he could be brutal if need be; she’d kept close-lipped about the fact that she wasn’t immune to his charms. She didn’t want to admit that to anyone … even herself.
With a sigh she sat down on the bed with Adam on her lap. Her son turned to her and frowned at her face for a few moments before pinching the damage on her cheek as though he was curious about the colourful mark.
‘Poor-poor,’ she explained, flinching from his careless touch. When he’d started walking he’d taken tumbles and learned that, when something hurt, it was called being poorly. When he took a tumble, he’d display the sore part to her and insist he was poor-poor while holding out his arms to be comforted and picked up. For a moment he studied her with a serious expression on his face, then he leant forward and planted a moist, sweet-breathed mouth to her bruised cheek, mimicking the way she would kiss away his pain.
Faye hugged him tightly to her, racked with silent sobs, and only let go when he squealed angrily and fought to escape from her hungry grip. She lay down on the groaning bed and he settled beside her, oddly subdued, as though he’d adopted her melancholy mood.
Peeling plasterwork on the ceiling held her eyes as she thought back over the events that had brought her to this sorry state, and of how it all might end.
She realised she would probably need to find another job, and that wouldn’t be easy with the dole queues growing every day. But even that grave concern couldn’t chase away something else that had been niggling at her since her conversation with Alice Chaplin. She knew now the name of the youth who’d hit her, and that the Batemans were a rough handful. She realised with a pang that it wasn’t just her brother she wanted to protect from their malice. If Rob went looking for revenge, Donald might not be the only Bateman he had to deal with.
Faye’s impression of Donald was that he might be a thug, but he wasn’t a very good one. The note of genuine alarm in Alice’s voice when she’d spoken about the Batemans suggested that the clan included far more experienced villains in its number. The Keivers were known as people who could look after themselves; but for all that Rob was considered a fellow you didn’t mess with, he wasn’t a hardened criminal. Faye knew she’d never forgive herself if she stirred up trouble for Rob with people who might prove to be relentless, vicious enemies.