Two Women (25 page)

Joey started talking in a sing-song voice, as if he was telling a story to a bunch of little children.

‘Funnily enough, Stefano, my mum had to give your old woman some dosh the other week, to help pay the rent and get some grub in for that bunch of daughters and sons of yours. “Funny,” I says to me mum, “ain’t he just opened a café in Barking? I heard he was raking it in.” But she informed me that you had had it on your toes and left the old woman, the kids and your own mother in fucking stook. “So,” me mother says to me, “you go and see him and find out what he’s doing, because poor old Angela is boracic lint.” That being due to the fact that you robbed your old woman of the two grand she’d been left by her grandfather.’

Barry shook his head solemnly.

‘What a ponce, eh? I can’t believe I just heard that, can you?’

He looked towards the five workmen at a nearby table for confirmation.

‘Don’t you think he’s a ponce, leaving his kids in the fucking lurch and his old woman potless while he reaps the benefit of her couple of grand?’

The men nodded vigorously. They knew exactly what was expected of them. If the Greek was going to get a hiding they wanted to make sure they were on the winning side. He might make a blinding sausage sandwich, but that was as far as their loyalty went.

‘Fucking terrible, ain’t it? Unbelievable. I was shocked, shocked and appalled by my mother’s tale of woe. “Get your arse down there,” she said, “and sort that foreign ponce out.”

Joey held out his arms inviting general acclaim.

‘So, Stefano, here I am, and I want your old woman’s dosh, plus my expenses, and your word you will pay your old woman a regular amount.’

Stefano looked into Joey’s eyes and saw how much he was enjoying this.

‘I understand what you’re saying, Mr McNamara, but let me assure you . . .’

Barry interrupted him.

‘Shut your trap and bring the food. Once we’ve eaten we’ll explain it all to you in simple terms in your flat above this lovely café. Unless, of course, you want to discuss it here right now? In which case, that suits us down to the ground.’

Stefano Skarpelis knew what was going on, and he knew he was defeated. News of this visit would be all over by late afternoon. He was worried about it affecting his business.

East End people were strange. They would hide a murderer yet string up the same man for leaving his wife and children without support. Yes, they were weird, and he knew when he was cornered.

‘I’ll make you both a full English breakfast then we’ll sort this out.’

He walked away with as much dignity as he could muster, face pale and wearing a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

‘See, Barry, sometimes you don’t have to raise a hand. A right slagging off in public does the job better than a firearm or a cosh.’

Barry laughed.

He had a twinkle in his eye because in the corner sat two little birds who looked right up his street. They were smiling and simpering at him. One was short with fat legs and breasts but the other was better: red-haired, with full lips and shapely legs that she crossed and uncrossed at an alarming rate.

‘You ain’t winking at the two dogs over there, surely? Fucking hell, I’m going to buy you a lead for Christmas so you can take them out in public.’

Even Barry laughed. One good thing about Joey, he did have a sense of humour. Five minutes later the food was still not on the table and, leaning back in his chair, Joey shouted across the café to a workman and his friend by the door.

‘Oi, mate, how much for a bite of your sandwich? I’m fucking dying of starvation here. Hitler invaded Poland faster than it takes this Greek ponce to make breakfast!’

Everyone cracked up laughing and Stefano Skarpelis closed his eyes and asked God what the fuck he had done to deserve this?

 

Susan had been examined by a doctor and now he was helping her to get off the high table. She was so ungainly she could not get up without help. The doctor was young with wide brown eyes and a broad nose, but was saved from ugliness by his curly black hair and the merry twinkle in his eyes.

‘Did you know you were in labour, Mrs Dalston?’

Susan shook her head in amazement.

‘No. I have had a bit of a back ache for the last couple of days but everyone said it was all the weight I’d put on. Fuck me, I’d better get home quick smart.’

She tried to stand and he kept her seated with a wave of his hand.

‘You are not going anywhere, Mrs Dalston, except up to the labour ward. I think if you have contracted gonorrhoea you should be okay, but we need to keep an eye on you and the baby just to be on the safe side. You say you contracted it nearly a month ago, yes?’

Susan nodded, humiliated.

‘I might have got it sooner but he certainly gave it to my cousin on my wedding day. Mind you, that Frances is such a dog the chances are she gave it to him.’

Daniel Cole looked at the woman before him with sadness and resignation. During his time at the Whitechapel he had met many women in her position and it always amazed him how resilient they were. How they took all life threw at them and managed to rise above it.

‘Will the kid be blind and deformed, doctor? That’s me biggest worry.’

Dr Cole smiled.

‘I’m sure everything will be okay. Now, the worry of today has probably brought on labour - a fright or a shock can do that. So let’s just concentrate on getting your baby into the world, shall we? Then we can worry about anything else if it proves necessary. Okay?’

Susan nodded, unsure what exactly he was saying to her.

‘But it’s a month early. Is that because of the disease like? Has the VD made it come out too quick because there’s something wrong with it?’

Dr Cole sighed heavily and made himself smile.

‘Like I said, let’s just wait and see. Mrs Dalston, no one knows anything at the moment except that you are in labour and the child will be delivered within the next twenty-four hours. It’s pointless worrying yourself and risking making things worse. Now, let me get a nurse to take you up to the ward and we can proceed from there.’

Susan nodded.

His voice was low and reassuring, exactly what she needed at this moment. Someone to take over, take the pressure, take the strain.

Doreen accompanied her up to the ward with the nurse. Susan held her friend’s hand like a life-line. She felt that if she let it go she would fall into some great abyss and that would be the end of her life, her child’s, and her sanity.

 

The redhead’s name was Sonia. She had a flat near the Heathway in Dagenham, and a little boy called Luke. He was living with her mother apparently because she found it hard to cope with him. Luke, it turned out, was five. She had given birth to him when she was fourteen. Not that that bothered Barry Dalston. He didn’t want a virgin, he wanted a good time.

Sonia’s friend’s name was Abigail but she liked to be called Abby. After tearing up Stefano’s flat and giving him a good hiding, the two men took the girls to the Bull for a drink and a bit of a crack.

‘In fairness, he does do a blinding breakfast,’ observed Joey.

The two girls laughed.

‘Not for a while, though, by the sounds coming from the flat. Everyone could hear it going on, it was great.’

Sonia, it turned out, liked a man who was a bit of a face. Like most of her ilk it would never occur to her that she was in the predicament she was because of her taste in men. One little boy and three abortions along the way had taught her nothing. Sonia was an accident waiting to happen.

She’d been unsure at first whether she wanted young Barry as he had laughed at his friend’s crude joke about them, but being a girl who never held a grudge she’d decided to go along to the pub and see what developed.

The way his hand was sliding up her thigh now told her things were developing very well.

‘Another rum and Coke, girls?’

Joey’s voice was loud in the confines of the pub garden.

The two girls nodded.

‘Fuck me, Bal, the way these two put it away we’d better go and knock over the fucking local Post Office in case they want something to eat as well.’

He grinned at Abby.

‘You could do with missing a couple of meals, darlin’. I ain’t seen thighs like that since I caught my old woman in bed with the window cleaner.’

Abigail laughed delightedly, happy with the attention.

Joey went into the pub and up to the bar.

‘Two treble rum and Cokes and a couple of pints, mate.’

The barman laughed.

‘What time’s Cinderella turning up then? I see you got lumbered with the Ugly Sisters. Be careful, mate, the little fat one lives with a black bloke off the market and he is handy.’ He tapped his nose. ‘Just a word to the wise like. No offence, but I don’t want me pub torn up.’

Joey was grateful for the nod.

‘What are they, a couple of wog lovers then?’

The man nodded. ‘In a word, yeah. So long as they’re worth a few bob, of course. They’re dogs, mate, and if that’s what you want for an afternoon, good luck to you. But just keep out a beady, they ain’t worth fighting over.’

‘Too fucking right! Have one yourself and give us a couple of brandy chasers, large ones. I need a drink after a shock like that. I was gonna give it fucking plenty and all. Now, though, I might have to have a rethink.’

The man laughed with Joey.

‘Fucking daughters! Who’d have them, eh? I remember my old mother used to say: “Be careful where you plant it, boy. Always remember that the biggest dogs in the world are someone’s daughter, mother or sister.”

Joey laughed at that. It had never occurred to him before and he liked the way it rolled off the man’s tongue. He would nick that little homily and use it himself.

In the garden Sonia was allowing Barry to take right liberties, as the more liberal of the East End women referred to being titted up in public.

He could smell her, all of her, the heat was so strong. It was a mixture of sweat, perfume, deodorant, and underlying it all was the smell of her sex.

He knew he could have her on the wooden bench if he pushed it and the thought turned him on.

Joey returned with the tray of drinks.

‘Have I got a bit of a tan, girls, with all this sun we’ve had? Do I look a little bit like a macaroon, eh?’

Barry saw the two girls look at Joey without laughing.

‘What’s the matter? Don’t tell me two young girls like you are prejudiced against our Caribbean brethren? I mean, how would we run the buses and trains without them, eh?’

Abigail lit a cigarette and puffed on it hard.

‘Or the Health Service, come to that.’

Barry realised she was defending black people and tried not to laugh.

Joey was warming to his theme now.

‘Like a bit of black pudding do you, Abigail? Come to think of it, the barman told me you live with a lemonade from the market. Is it true what they say about black men then - hung like horses and can last all night?’

Abigail nodded.

‘Yeah, it is, actually, and they have softer skin and nicer manners than white blokes. Especially white
old
blokes. Funny that, ain’t it?’

She picked up her cigarettes and bag and stood up to leave. Joey grabbed her arm and she winced.

‘You ain’t going nowhere, lady. I have paid out a heavy portion of wedge on you and you’ll come through for me. If your soot turns up I’ll give him the hard word, OK?’

Sonia was pissed, but not so pissed she didn’t realise they were both in trouble. Bad trouble. The two men were looking menacing now, scary. They had been found out and that frightened them.

They knew the score. With men like Joey and Barry you had to play the game or you were expected to pay a forfeit.

Joey forced Abigail back into her seat. Smiling nicely, he continued, ‘So, ladies, whose place are we going to after the next few drinks, eh?’

Sonia smiled grimly.

‘Looks like it will have to be mine, don’t it?’

Joey laughed again, displaying all his teeth and a fair amount of his gums as well. His nicotine-covered tongue was dancing in the gaping hole of his mouth.

Sonia, drunk and feeling brave, looked at Abigail and trilled, ‘I don’t think much of yours girl.’

She looked at her friend and answered sarcastically, ‘Really? Well, I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a bit of him and all, Sonia. These two looks like they do a double act.’

Barry grinned. He was enjoying himself now. It was so much easier if you had them down on the floor with a metaphorical foot right on their windpipe. It added to the game, the excitement and the jollity.

‘We certainly are. What’s his is mine and what’s mine is his.’

As soon as he said it his expression changed and the three other people round the table knew he had said something profound.

But only Joey understood what he had really said.

Raising his drink, he smiled at his son-in-law.

‘In more ways than one. Cheers.’

 

Susan was pushing with all her might. Her hair was plastered to her head and her body felt as if it was being ripped in two.

‘Come on, love, one more good push then you can have a rest.’

She nodded. Taking a deep breath she pushed again, harder this time, but she felt as if she had achieved nothing.

The nurse smiled and listened to the baby’s heartbeat once more.

‘It’s coming along lovely but I think you might need a bit of help. Relax, and let me talk to the doctor.’

Susan lay back gratefully, supporting her head on the pillows and trying to fan herself with an old copy of
Woman’s Realm
. She had never dreamed it would be like this, the constant pain and the dragging feeling in her back. She had only ever visualised the baby all dressed up nice and in a pram with everyone admiring it. Even Ivy’s stories of the terrible births she had witnessed over the years had seemed miles away from real life.