Bourbon Creams and Tattered Dreams Page 35

  ‘Tom’s a kind man,’ Matty said, realizing it perhaps for the first time. ‘When I got back from America, I really was on my uppers, Queenie, though it didn’t look like it to everyone else. And he got me a job, helped me sort myself out, even though I’d broken his heart.’

  Queenie sat on the bed, indicating that Matty should sit beside her.

  ‘I don’t want to ruin his life again.’

  Queenie leaned forward, elbows on knees. ‘Well, you don’t have to. You can always sort it out yourself.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean these.’ And Queenie held up her hands, twirling them in the light that slanted through the ecclesiastical-looking windows. ‘You should learn to fight your own battles, like me.’

  Matty laughed. ‘If you’d seen Frank, you wouldn’t say that. Besides, you’re as strong as any man. I’m not. I may be tall, but these weren’t made for hard graft.’ She held up her own fine-boned long fingers.

  ‘You don’t need a lot of brawn. I’ve seen a strong man beaten to the ground with one of these.’ She reached down a hatbox from the wardrobe and pulled out a chic woman’s fedora.

  ‘A hat!’ It hardly seemed a promising weapon to Matty. But Queenie tossed it to her and as Matty caught it she realized this was no ordinary hat. ‘It feels like it’s lined with lead!’ Matty said, hefting the hat from one hand to the other.

  ‘That’s ’cause it is! If you get a wallop over the head with one o’ these you don’t get up too quick, I can tell you that.’

  Queenie gripped the hat and demonstrated a sharp downward slice of the brim into the billowy gold quilt, which caused an impressive dent.

  ‘Have a go.’

  Matty clutched the hat.

  ‘Careful!’ Queenie said, pointing to the front brim, which she peeled back to reveal a small razor blade. ‘Wouldn’t kill ya, but gives a nasty sting.’

  Matty carefully grasped the brim at the side and copied Queenie’s downward and sideward slicing motion. Her first attempt sent the hat rolling under the bed.

  ‘Let the hat do the work, you just sort of let it go,’ Queenie advised, and after a couple more tries Matty perfected the action.

  ‘Have a look at this.’ Queenie pulled at the small side feather tucked into the hatband. As she did so Matty gasped, for the feather’s quill was actually a small steel stiletto with a vicious-looking tip.

  ‘Now, if you want to sort that bastard out yourself, all you got to do is meet ’im in your new outfit!’ Queenie handed her the hat and hooted with laughter, pleased with her gift.

  Matty was about to refuse but Queenie pressed her. ‘You keep it, love!’ I got plenty more. Now all you need is yer rings. They don’t have to be real gold, like mine, just heavy. Esther’s got a load, we’ll kit you out so if you end up having to give him a right-hander his face’ll look like a nice juicy steak by the time you’re finished.’

  Queenie gave another whooping laugh and followed up by demonstrating a ju-jitsu throw on Matty, which had her on her back every time. Matty didn’t like to insult Queenie by appearing ungrateful, so she accepted the martial arts advice and the weapons with good grace. But she couldn’t imagine ever having the presence of mind to use them.

  *

  Later that morning when Tom still hadn’t been in touch, she suggested to Queenie they go in search of him. The woman looked doubtful.

  ‘Not a good idea. There’s a reason they call this a safe house. If Rossi’s got the word out, his boys’ll be all over Bermondsey looking for you.’

  ‘But I can’t stay in hiding forever!’

  ‘It won’t be forever, darlin’. You’ll be back on your cinevan before you know it... if that’s what you want to do, though I think you’re wasted on them health films.’

  Matty was going to disagree when there was a loud knocking from downstairs. Queenie sprang over to the bedroom door with a surprisingly light-footed agility, her face still, her head cocked to one side. The sound of front-door bolts being slammed back reached them and Queenie relaxed slightly. Whoever had opened the front door obviously trusted the visitor enough to let them in. She followed Queenie to the stairs.

  ‘Matty, stay up here till I’m sure.’

  But the voice coming from the hall was familiar, if bizarrely out of place.

  ‘I’m afraid I must insist on seeing Miss Gilbie. I have a rather urgent message for her.’

  Queenie shot her a puzzled look. ‘D’you know that geezer?’

  Matty nodded and rushed past Queenie down the stairs. ‘Feathers! What are you doing here?’

  Feathers wore his usual calm expression, but when he saw her a look of relief passed across his face. ‘You’re safe! Thank God. Will was desperately worried, wanted to come himself, but of course I convinced him it should be me – not so likely to arouse suspicion if any undesirable should care to follow!’ He pulled a face, but Matty could imagine he’d enjoyed the cloak-and-dagger trip to the den of the Forty Elephants.

  ‘But why’ve you come?’

  ‘Because, dear Matty, Tom could not.’

  She stifled a cry with her hand. Her instincts had been right. There was something wrong with Tom. ‘Is he hurt?’

  Feathers shook his head. ‘Not exactly. I’m afraid his father died last night. He was desperate to come to you, of course, but he needed to be with his poor mother. Besides, Mr Sweeting persuaded him you were in excellent hands.’ He smiled charmingly at Queenie, who didn’t seem impressed.

  ‘I must go to him,’ Matty said, already making for the door.

  ‘I was to deliver a message.’ Feathers restrained her. ‘Tom knew this would be your response, but he said on no account should you leave here. I believe his “spies” have reported sightings of suspicious characters asking questions today at the Star and at the town hall.’

  ‘I don’t care. I’m going to him.’ She shrugged off Feathers’ hand.

  ‘Let her go,’ Queenie ordered Feathers and turned to Matty. ‘I wouldn’t stop you going to Tom, but just be a bit cute—’ the woman tapped the side of her head – ‘and make sure you wait till tonight before you go to his house.’ She waved a disdainful hand in Feathers’ direction. ‘I suppose you’ll attract less attention if he takes you rather than me. I’ll stick out like a tart in a nunnery.’ Queenie barked a laugh and Feathers flinched.

  ‘You’ve been so kind, Queenie, thank you.’ Matty kissed her new protector.

  ‘Perhaps I could take you to the Labour Institute first, Matty,’ Feathers offered. ‘It’s hardly the place anyone would be looking for you today, and we’ll do as your friend suggests – visit Tom later under cover of darkness...’

  Matty heard a faint snort from Queenie, who no doubt didn’t trust Feathers’ amateur bodyguard abilities.

  ‘Hang on a minute, before you go!’ Queenie turned and took the stairs two at a time. In seconds she came thundering back down.

  ‘Don’t forget yer titfer!’ She winked and handed Matty the weighted fedora. ‘And you, make sure you get her back here safe tonight!’ she warned Feathers as they hurried down the front steps to his waiting car.

  ‘Never fear,’ he muttered, as he pulled out into the New Kent Road, ‘this particular carriage won’t be turning into a pumpkin at midnight.’ He shot a glance at Matty. ‘And the glass slipper would never fit on her size tens, would it?’

  ‘Feathers! That’s not very kind.’ Matty stifled a smile. She’d never seen the barbed side of the young man.

  He looked suitably chastened. ‘I apologize. I didn’t meant to be rude. To be honest, Matty, it’s pure fear on my part. That woman was terrifying!’

  Matty thought of Queenie’s kindness and how all her soft side had been masked by a lifetime fending for herself among the toughest men in London.

  ‘Feathers, I know we promised Queenie to wait till tonight, but actually, I’m not frightened of her, and I want to go straight to Tom.’

  ‘You’re as stubborn as your brother! All right, but we’d
better stop off to see Will first. He’s been terribly worried about you ever since that alarming trick cyclist came to give us Tom’s message this morning.’

  ‘Wally?’

  Feathers nodded. ‘I was rather disappointed he’d left the unicycle at home!’

  Feathers drove the car along Tower Bridge Road, expertly negotiating the crowds spilling out into the road as they milled about the market stalls lining the street. He hooted his horn and a young boy gave an obscene gesture before hopping out of the way.

  Matty felt herself sitting rigidly to attention, her focus on getting to Tom, all thought of her own danger driven from her mind. But it occurred to her again that Feathers shouldn’t be here. Since the boys’ narrow escape from being recruited as Dubbs’ agents, Lady Fetherstone had kept her son on a tight rein.

  ‘What are you and Will doing back in Bermondsey? I thought you were both writing articles about unemployment in the northern towns?’

  ‘Slipped Ma Feathers’ leash so we could join the NUWM hunger march to Westminster. We’ve been drumming up support from a few of our Bermondsey comrades. Talking of which, I never thanked you for your intervention with comrade Dubbs – the old fellow just got his claws into us and wouldn’t let go! I admit that was a narrow escape. It’s one thing to fight for a fairer world, but quite another to turn spy on your own country.’

  ‘Dubbs hasn’t been back in touch?’

  ‘Good heavens, no! Ma Feathers had a word with the vice chancellor and I don’t think Professor Dubbs will be influencing any other impressionable youths. Your dear brother and I are the last of our kind...’ he said with mock regret. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I think it was him tipped off Frank in the end.’

  ‘But how would he know about Frank?’

  ‘Spies are meant to know everything, aren’t they?’

  ‘Oh, Matty, I’m so sorry. It’s our fault.’ His face fell. ‘I would do anything to help.’

  ‘You already are, and it’s not your fault. Frank would have found me eventually. He was just biding his time. Never heard of the cat and the canary?’

  They pulled up in front of the Labour Institute in Fort Road and Feathers ran round to open Matty’s door. As she got out, Will hurtled down the steps of the institute.

  ‘Thank God you’re all right.’ He flung his arms round her. ‘Quick, Feathers, get her inside.’

  ‘No, Will. I’m not staying. Did Wally say anything about Tom?’

  The young man took a step back. ‘Only that he was worried about you... I am too.’ His dark eyes flickered with hesitation. ‘You’re always fussing at me to be careful – well, now it’s my turn.’

  ‘All right, I promise,’ she soothed. ‘I’ll just visit Tom quickly and then go back to my Forty Elephants.’

  Will still looked unwilling to let her go and the reason for his reluctance struck her: without Eliza she was the closest family he had. She resolved to be careful, if only for his sake.

  *

  It was Winnie who opened the door of Tom’s mother’s house. Her friend’s tear-streaked face lit up at the sight of her.

  ‘He’ll be cross with you for coming,’ she whispered, ‘but I’m glad you did. He’s been breaking his neck to see you, but he thought someone might be following him.’

  Tom sat next to his mother, holding her hand. His face broke into a smile when he saw her, but then anger flickered in his eyes.

  ‘Matty, can’t you ever do as you’re told?’

  She ran to him. ‘Shut up, Tom. You should know by now you can’t boss me about.’

  Throwing her arms round him, she felt resistant muscles in his back and arms giving in as he hugged her tightly. She broke away.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Roberts.’ Matty took the woman’s hand.

  ‘Oh well, love, the best of my Sid was long gone, truth be told. I swear if he’d only been able to get out to work, he’d still be alive today...’ And the woman buried her face into an already saturated handkerchief.

  ‘You two go in the front room. I’ll stay with Mum,’ Winnie said, pushing them into the passage.

  Once they were alone, Tom kissed her as though he might never kiss her again. ‘Oh, Matty, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’ve been going crazy with worry ever since Sugar turned up here this morning.’

  ‘And I’m sorry I wasn’t here with you. I know how much you loved your dad.’

  His eyes brimmed and he turned away. ‘I didn’t want to be like this in front of you.’

  ‘Tom, you haven’t got to pretend to be strong with me.’ She pulled him back into her arms and brushed the tears from the corners of his eyes.

  ‘Did he hurt you?’ he asked, looking intently into her eyes.

  ‘No. Neville helped me get away. But, Tom – Frank wants me back. I don’t think he’ll stop till he gets his own way.’

  His grief-filled eyes hardened. ‘Not while I’ve got breath in my body. I’ve got to see Sugar – I’m not sitting in here doing nothing. Mum’s got Winnie.’

  ‘No, Tom. Sit down a minute. I need to talk to you.’ She forced him to sit in his father’s old chair by the fire, while she kneeled in front of him. She had been rehearsing what to say to Tom and now her words tumbled out in a rush.

  ‘I’ve been hearing things about you planning something with Sugar and the Elephant Boys. Tom, please, please promise not to go up against him. He’s so dangerous – you don’t know. And you shouldn’t be going anywhere near the Elephant mob. They’ll drag you down. I can’t be responsible for ruining your life twice over.’

  ‘You never ruined my life. Matty, my darling, I’d be nothing without you. Your leaving forced me to change. Even though I knew I’d never have another chance with you, you made me want to be worth something.’ He dropped his eyes. ‘There’s never been any one else for me, never will be. What sort of a man would I be just to give you up to him?’

  She didn’t reply and the room resonated with her silence. It was thundering in her ears – her silence, her secrets. She took in a deep breath; perhaps there was only one way to convince Tom. Her theory had been that the less he knew, the less danger he’d be in, but now he was rushing in as if Frank was in the same class as a Bermondsey wide boy.

  ‘Tom, listen to me. Before you go anywhere, before you make any more plans, it’s time you knew just what sort of man you’re dealing with.’

  ‘All right, tell me then,’ he said, unafraid.

  She began to draw the story up from the deep cave of memory she’d hidden it in and it was as if she were pulling out a part of her heart on a long, fine cord. Up to the surface it came, white and shrivelled, unused to the light of day. It was a poor, neglected thing, blighted by the memory of Frank, in a back alley in New York.

  ‘There was this night, when I finally found out what he was. I’d been singing in Frank’s club and after my set I went out the back door for a cigarette. It was pitch-dark in the alley but then something moved, a shadow but in the shape of a man, and he was sort of uncurling from the ground. He was black as the night, and I wouldn’t have seen him if it hadn’t been for this orange light coming from a window. When the shadow stood up I could see it was holding something. It looked like a flame, but then I saw it was a knife, with a long blade shining in that orange light. Then I realized there was another shape, a man sprawled out on the alley floor.’ She looked to see the effect of her words on Tom and he was leaning forward, straining to hear, and she realized she’d been whispering.

  ‘I was too terrified to move. I wanted to scream... but I couldn’t! Then, so fast I couldn’t follow him, the man with the knife sort of pounced, just like a cat on a mouse, and there was this horrible gurgling sound that seemed to go on forever, and then nothing. I should have shouted for help – done something. Then the man with the knife got up. He just strolled over to the window and held the blade up to the light, almost like he was admiring it.’ Her voice seized up altogether and she felt Tom squeezing her hand. ‘My God, Tom, the blade was just
dripping with blood, great black spots of it on the cobbles...’ Matty leaned forward, retching, and Tom caught her. Every inch of her body was trembling and though he gripped her as tightly as he was physically able, not all his strength could stop that trembling.

  ‘You don’t have to go on, Matty.’

  But she wanted to pull the last festering splinter of this memory from her and be rid of it forever.

  ‘No, I want to, because then you’ll understand.’ She pulled out of his arms and went on. ‘It was then I realized that I wasn’t the only one watching. There’d been an audience all along – Frank’s boys, standing back in the shadows, so I hadn’t seen them. And he strutted over to them, all cocky, holding up the bloody blade, and you know what he said?

  ‘Ah, look, boys, the kid’s broken-hearted! And he stood over the boy and stuck the knife in his chest till all you could see was the handle. That’s when I must have made a noise – I felt like I was choking. He saw me. He looked at me and I thought I was dead. And then he smiled, the same smile he used to give me when he would meet me after a show or collect me from the station when I hadn’t seen him for a while, as if he was pleased to see me. But what makes me so sick with myself is that I smiled back... I smiled back, Tom.’

  Then she bent over double, hugging her stomach, protecting the idea of herself as an independent woman who’d gone to take America by storm, though she had ended up no more than the canary in the paws of the cat. She allowed herself tears of shame, remembering how she’d slunk back into the shadows, sickened by a sight so horrific she couldn’t even equate it with the action of a human being, let alone someone she’d loved.

  Frank never spoke of the murder. He didn’t need to. From then on she’d been little more than his prisoner, and he was as sure of her silence as he was of his own power to hold her. She shuddered at the appalling risk she’d taken in leading him here, exposing everyone she’d ever loved to his lethal will.

  Dashing away her tears, she said, ‘I’m so ashamed of myself.’

  ‘No!’ Tom took her by the shoulders. ‘You’re not to blame! How could you have tackled a monster like that?’ Tom was fervent in her defence, but he had just made her point for her.