A Glimpse at Happiness (44 page)
Harry raised his glass and swung it around his head sprinkling brandy on those nearest to him. ‘Here’s to you, Ma,’ he shouted, sliding along the bar towards her and bringing Lucy with him. ‘No Paddy bastard could get the better of my ma.’
There was a roar of agreement.
Ma beckoned to Ollie. ‘Come and tell me again what happened in court.’
Harry’s right hand man stood up and swept his gaze around the room. ‘I sat at the back of the flea pit, keeping meself to meself, but wiv me eyes sharp. First I saw Nolan’s women come into the court with his brother and that darkie who works with him.’
‘What did she look like?’ Ma asked, relishing the thought of Josie O’Casey pressed into the public gallery alongside Whitechapel’s pimps and trollops.
A grin spread across Ollie’s face. ‘Bad. Eyes like coal holes and a face like a sheet.’
Ma would liked to have seen that but, instead, she pictured Patrick, not proud and defiant as he was at his sister’s wedding, but filthy and lice-ridden held between two prison officers.
Charlie gave a choking laugh. Ma turned to him. ‘See? I told you I would take care of him for you.’
He snorted and a stream of snot slid out of his left nostril. He wiped it on the cuff of his good arm.
Ollie continued. ‘’E was a flash one and no mistake. He stood there as bold as brass and told the world his plan to double deal you.’
‘Fecking cheek of it!’ someone shouted.
A crafty smile spread across Harry’s face. ‘But it didn’t do him no good, did it?’
‘No it didn’t.’ Ma slapped her thigh, the joy of her victory bursting out of her. ‘Tell me again what happened when the magistrate sent Nolan down. I want every last bit, mind.’
‘You should have seen ’is face! Like a mad animal it was. He would have jumped right over the rail too, if the chains hadn’t held him back. Still, he kicked the box so hard he dislodged the wood. It took the wardens beating him - with blows that would break another man’s back - to stop him.’
Ma leant forward. ‘And what about ’er? Tell me what she did.’
Ollie’s grinned widened. ‘It was just like one of them plays at the hippodrome. He’s being dragged away, like, and she’s calling out, “I’ll find them, Patrick, I promise. I’ll find them,”’ Ollie warbled in a falsetto voice, his arms outstretched and a simpering expression spread across his craggy features.
Tears of laughter gathered in Ma’s eyes. She would have given half the stash in Burr Street to have seen that.
‘Well, she won’t have to find ’em now, will she?’ a small voice slurred. ‘Not now Nolan’s ba . . . ba . . . banged up and away.’
The men in the bar, who only a few moments before had been rolling around in high spirits, were suddenly quiet.
Ma’s eyes fastened on Lucy. ‘What?’
Lucy blinked and screwed her thin face into a puzzled expression. ‘I ssssaid . . . the O’Casey woman won’t ’ave to find Nolan’s kids ’cause you’ll let ’em go now.’
Ma heaved herself up from the chair and waddled over to the girl. The drink had made Lucy forget herself but, even so, she’d noticed that since Harry had taken up with her the slut had become less biddable.
Typical, she thought studying the girl coolly. Harry never could keep his women in order
.
.
She smiled and several of the men around flinched. ‘Will I?’ she asked in a pleasant tone.
Lucy forced her eyes to stop roaming and looked at her. ‘Well, it ain’t right to keep ’em. I mean, you got what you wanted and they are only young ’uns after all.’ Lucy eyed her nervously. ‘It’s sort of understood, aint it? Nippers are left be.’
‘Is that right?’ Ma asked in an icy voice.
Harry stepped forwards and put his hand out. ‘Now, Ma, Lucy’s not—’
Ma’s hand shot up and Lucy jolted back.
‘See the teeth marks?’ she said holding the back of her right hand close to the girl’s face.
Lucy’s eyes focused on the curved row of teeth marks on the back of Ma’s hand. ‘Nolan’s snotty little bugger did that only yesterday. Drew blood, too, he did. And the other one, that girl, with her slanty dago eyes kept staring as if she’s trying to hex me.’
Harry stepped forward and Lucy’s head lolled back as she grinned up at him.
Lucy’s fair eyebrows drew together. ‘But you said yourself, ’Arry, it wasn’t right to keep them locked up in Burr Street.’
Harry gave her a hard look and she put her finger to her lips and giggled.
‘Lucy’s a bit tipsy,’ he said, giving his mother a conciliatory smile. ‘You didn’t mean anything, did you, sweet?’
Sweet! Ma’s eyes narrowed.
She studied her eldest son. ‘So you think I should go down to the nasty dark cellar and untie dear Mickey and darling Annie, do you, Harry?’
There were a couple of titters and he shuffled on the spot.
‘I . . . er . . . I’m just saying that now Nolan’s taken care of, if we don’t release his brats there’ll be grumbling in the streets.’
Fury shot through her and she pulled her face into an ugly expression. ‘Grumbling! What the feck do I care about grumbling? And how you can stand there and say that after what that bastard did to your brother I just don’t know. Or have you forgotten?’
‘No I haven’t forgotten but—’
Ma jabbed her finger towards Charlie. ‘Look at him,’ she screamed. ‘You, too.’ She grabbed Lucy and pulled her around. ‘Look what Nolan did to my darling boy.’ She let her eyes rest on Charlie’s contorted features for a moment then turned back to Harry. ‘And you say I should let his brats go so Miss Josie fecking O’Casey can trip off to the jail and tell him his kids is safe?’ She let go of Lucy and the girl fell against Harry. ‘I’ll tell you this. A man like Nolan could do a stretch and walk out smiling if his kids were safe, but I want him to suffer up here.’ She tapped her forehead with her finger. ‘Suffer every day of his life, just like my Charlie does.’
‘But even Pa and Popeye Wells didn’t touch each other’s families, ’ Harry said with a hollow laugh. ‘I mean, if they had, half of us wouldn’t be here now.’
Ma cast her eyes around and unbelievably, she saw agreement in the men’s expressions. Alarm started in her chest. They looked loyal enough, but who knew for how long? There was plenty of life in her yet, but with Charlie injured there was only Harry to enforce her will, and what if he turned against her? Her eyes returned to Lucy.
She’d always used the fact that men thought with their balls to her advantage - it was how she’d caught her Harry after all - but until now the women her sons had used to scratch their itch had come and gone. What if Lucy, with her willing smile and body, turned Harry to her ways? If he stood against his ma, the men he led would follow and then where would she be? She chewed the inside of her mouth with her few remaining teeth.
With a lightning move her hand shot out and caught hold of a clump of Lucy’s blonde hair. The girl screamed but Ma dragged her closer until their faces were only a hair’s breadth apart.
‘Who asked your sodding opinion?’ she asked, shaking the girl’s head.
Lucy’s face crumpled. ‘I only said—’
‘Who?’ Ma bellowed, shaking the girl’s head again.
Lucy screamed and a thin line of red appeared along her hair line. ‘No one,’ she sobbed.
Ma let go of the lank strands but grasped the back of her head and, digging her nails into the girl’s scalp, forced Lucy to look at her. ‘Then keep your fecking mouth shut, she shouted,’ then she smashed the girl’s face into the edge of the bar. There was a sickening crunch as she connected to the wood.
Ma let go and Lucy collapsed among the empty bottles and sawdust on the floor, blood pouring from her nose. Harry made as if to bend down but Ma fixed him with a look and he stayed where he was.
She gazed down at the unconscious girl as the splattered blood soaked into her gown and congealed on her cheek. Then she looked up, flexed her hand, and smiled. ‘Anyone else got an opinion about the Nolan kids?’
Meg handed over her shilling and gathered up her bundle. She haggled with the rag seller and got down from sixpence to fourpence for a new dress for Polly, two shifts, a bonnet for the baby and a serviceable dark dress and petticoat for herself. Of course, she would have to soak the filth off the garments before they could wear them, but they would be sound enough when she had.
Meg had been pleased when she’d heard that Miss Josie had moved in with Patrick Nolan. The news had shot around the streets like lightning and while some pretended to be shocked Meg had been glad for her. Of course, at the moment Miss Josie could do with some help from the Almighty with her man locked away and his children missing.
Patrick Nolan was a good man. None better, as far as she was concerned. Everyone admired him for standing up to Ma Tugman, although much good it had done him and his own, and Meg couldn’t help but worry what would become of them now that Ma was back in control.
And where were those poor children? It was the talk of the streets. Miss Josie had put up posters all over but there was still no news of them. It weren’t right taking children, no matter who their father was. Until they could do proper damage kids were left to roam. Someone knew where they were of course, but they weren’t saying, and Meg understood why. You might as well slit your own throat if you crossed Ma.
Meg turned the corner into East Smithfield and knocked straight into a woman with a shawl pulled tightly around her face. She murmured her apologies and was about to walk by but then stopped.
‘Lucy Moss? Is it you?’
The woman nodded.
Meg and Lucy had grown up in the same street and although she had been fond of Lucy, she kept well out of her way since she’d taken up with Charlie Tugman.
‘Hello,’ Lucy whispered, moving the shawl away slightly.
Meg gasped. Lucy had always had fine-boned features with sharp cheeks and a pointed chin framed by pale blonde hair, but now her once straight nose looked like a squashed and bloodied piece of offal on a butcher’s slab, and her pale blue eyes stared out of mauve, green and yellow bruising around their sockets.
‘For the love of God, who did that to you?’ she asked, as she stared in horror at the young woman’s battered face.
‘That evil old bitch, Ma Tugman,’ Lucy replied, sucking in the spittle that had escaped from her lips.
An icy hand of fear clutched at Meg and she quickly looked around. Thankfully, the street was practically empty and those nearby couldn’t have heard what Lucy said over the noise of the wagons passing by. Meg drew her into the wall and out of sight.
‘I was out cold for a day after she smacked my head on the bar. And the pain! I can’t tell you,’ Lucy added.
Meg could imagine. Even in the shadows it was clear to see that there wasn’t one part of Lucy’s face that wasn’t either swollen or discoloured. She must be in agony just breathing, never mind eating or speaking.
Meg chewed her lower lip. She ought to go. The children would be waiting and, besides, anyone who’d fallen foul of Ma wasn’t someone you wanted others to see you hobnobbing with. There were plenty of people who would slip a titbit of information to Ma to stay in her good books.
Meg adjusted the basket on her arms. ‘Well it’s good to see you again, and mind how you go.’
Lucy gave her a forlorn look, and Meg realised what a stupid thing she’d just said. Mind how you go?!
The memory of how Josie O’Casey had defied Ma came back to Meg. Josie hadn’t turned tail and run; no, she’d stood up to her and sent her packing.
Meg studied the downturned face of Lucy again. Thinking of Josie’s daring overcame Meg’s fear and allowed her motherly instincts to rise. As much as Ma Tugman’s face woke her from sleep in a cold sweat of terror, she couldn’t just leave Lucy as she was.
‘Right,’ she said putting her free arm around her old friend. ‘You’re coming home with me, my girl, and no argument.’
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