Dangerous Lady (22 page)

‘Oh, shut your row, you stupid old bitch!’

His wife sat in her bed, her face a mask of Pond’s cold cream and abject disbelief. Her curlers were placed strategically around her head like a crash helmet. She hitched up her ample chest, her mouth settling to a grim line. A malevolent gleam in her eye, she pulled the covers off her. Swinging her legs out of bed, she placed her feet in her carpet slippers, stood up and picked up the heavy chamber pot from underneath the bed. She walked out of the bedroom on to the landing. As her husband reached the top of the stairs she flung the contents into his face … that would teach him to answer her back!

She clumped back into her bedroom leaving her husband clutching a soggy ten-pound note in his hand. He spat. Only his Gladys would have the nerve to empty an ‘Edgar Allen’ all over him. Sod them bloody Ryans! If they hadn’t got him out of bed none of this would have happened.

Garry and Leslie drove back to Dean Street. It was just on one o’clock. They arrived at the club at one-thirty-five. The balloon went up at one-forty.

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Maura was lying in bed wide awake. It was nearly two thirty in the morning and she was no nearer sleep than she had been at nine o’clock when she had got into bed. Her mind was turning in circles, her thoughts drifting away on different tangents as she tried to see a way out of her predicament. There was none. She had talked everything over with Margaret, but neither girl could find a solution to her problem. A problem that was getting bigger in Maura’s mind with every passing second.

She was in a quandary. If she told her family who the father was there would be murder. Especially if she told them he had dumped her. As much as Terry had hurt her, she wasn’t going to be the cause of his getting beaten to death. And if she knew Mickey that would be the outcome. She placed her hands on her belly. There was a tiny little person in there, a completely new life waiting for her to bring it into the world. She turned over the bed again. The blankets and sheets were tangled around her. How could he have dismissed her like that? She was still reeling from the shock. She had thought he would have been over the moon once the news had sunk in. She had seen him picking her up in his arms and kissing all her fears away. Telling her that he loved her. That they would go away and get married, away from her brothers, to Scotland or somewhere. Now, in bed, in the dark, she could see her plans for what they were: childish fantasies. Terry had no more need of her than he had of his car. When it was old hat, you traded it in for a newer model. She felt the familiar sting of tears. Well, he wouldn’t hear about this child from her. She wouldn’t lower herself. , If he didn’t want her then he didn’t want his child either. But what was she going to do about the baby? She

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couldn’t see herself as one of these unmarried mothers, brazenly having their babies and sod the neighbours. If it had been anyone else, her brothers would have been round the boy’s house, given him a good hiding, and then the wedding would have been arranged, quick smart. But this was a situation that could not be resolved so easily. Even if Terry wanted to marry her, Michael would move heaven and earth to stop the marriage taking place.

She was hot again so she pushed off the blankets. In her short nylon nighty she looked far more seductive than she felt. Her long smooth legs were spreadeagled on the blankets, her arms were hugging her breasts. She had combed out her long hair before getting into bed and it fanned around her head giving her an ethereal appearance, like a saucy angel.

She rolled her head from side to side on her pillow. Oh, why was she being plagued like this! It was bad enough being pregnant without all this added worry. She turned herself over again in the bed. This time she was facing the window. She stared out into the darkness, only the light of the streetlights to illuminate her room. Earlier she had prayed - to the Immaculate Conception and Saint Jude, the patron saint of no hope! Above her bed was the Sacred Heart, a large golden vessel pulsing outside Christ’s body. He had looked benevolently down on her for years. She began to pray to him again. In the half-light she could see his golden heart glinting. She began to murmur the Eucharistic prayer.

‘ “Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise.” ‘

As she prayed she heard a car drive into Lancaster Road. She saw the car’s headlights cast long shadows over her: bedroom ceiling as the engine died down and guessed, rightly, that her brothers were home. She heard them

coming into the house and carried on praying.

‘ “All life, all holiness comes from you …” ‘

They were coming up the stairs. She could hear the thud of their shoes.

‘ “Through our son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” ‘

Her bedroom door was thrown open and the light turned on. She pulled herself up in the bed and put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sudden glare. Michael and Geoffrey stood at the end of her bed like avenging angels.

She squinted at them. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was just gonna ask you the same thing.’

‘I don’t know what you’re on about, Mickey. I ain’t done nothing!’ Her voice was full of fear.

With one bound he was across the room. He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. ‘You bloody tart! You’ve been knocking about with a filth, ain’t ya?’

‘No … Mickey, I swear!’ She was screaming with fear.

‘Don’t lie to me, you slag.’

He pushed his face closer to hers. She could smell his breath as he shouted at her, ‘Lover boy got an ultimatum today, Maura. Either his bit of skirt or his job. I understand the job won.’

Maura’s head was reeling. That was why he had dumped her! That was why he had taken the key from her. He knew who she was! .. , ‘ pounds ‘.’

‘He was called into the Chiefs office. Told what a naughty family you’d got. I’m the fucking laughing stock of the Metropolitan Police Force over you. Every villain from here to Liverpool will be laughing up their sleeves at me. I could bleeding well murder you!’

Maura was not listening to him. All she could think of was the fact that Terry had known about her when she had gone to him. It was the name Ryan that had created the

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rift between them. Somewhere deep down inside her a grain of contempt was forming. It was her family that he objected to, not her. Even though it proved that it was not anything she had done that had caused their rift, instead of pleasing her she felt a disdain for him that was so strong she could actually taste it. The gutless bastard! The dirty gutless bastard …

He didn’t even have the nerve to tell her why he was dumping her. He’d said he wanted to see other women when in reality he meant: I am frightened of your brothers. He had destroyed her and didn’t have the decency to tell her truthfully why. She was carrying his child inside her. The fruit of their so-called love. If he walked into her room now, Michael wouldn’t be in it. She would rip him to shreds, Terry Gutless Petherick would be a dead man, and it wouldn’t be her brothers who killed him. Michael and Geoffrey were watching her, fascinated by the changing expressions on her face.

‘Leave me alone, you!’ she screamed at Michael at the top of her voice, all fear of him leaving her at the thought of what Terry had done to her. Michael brought back his fist. As he went to slam it into her body, Sarah’s voice stayed him.

‘Oi! What the bloody hell’s going on in here? It’s a wonder you ain’t woken up the whole bleeding street.’ She took in the picture before her and ran to her son. Raising herself up on her toes she grabbed hold of Michael’s hair, shaking him like a dog with its, prey.

‘Don’t you dare raise your hand to your sister, you great gormless bastard! Leave go of her hair before you pull it all out.’ She pummelled Michael’s chest with her fists. It said a lot for his feelings for her mother that he didn’t strike her, but instead threw Maura back against the pillows.

‘Go back to bed, Mum, and let me sort this out.’

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V

‘No, I bleeding well won’t!’ She looked at her husband who had followed her into the room. ‘Tell him to leave her alone.’

She pulled her daughter into her arms.

Benjamin, as usual, was half drunk. He looked at everyone in the room with his drunken leer and, finding it difficult to concentrate, waved his hands at his wife. ‘Leave Mickey alone. He knows what he’s about.’

Sarah lost her temper.

‘That’s right, Ben, do what you always do. Pass the bloody buck. This time to your son. You drunken bastard! Get out of me sight.’

She turned her gaze on Mickey.

‘Now you tell me what’s going on here. Your father might be scared of you but I ain’t. I’ll never be frightened of something that came out of me own body, so just you remember that. Come on, I’m waiting. What’s going on?’

Geoffrey answered for him. ‘She’s been seeing an old Bill.’

Maura’s little sob was the only other sound. Sarah stroked her daughter’s hair gently and sat herself on the bed. ‘So what? Why should that worry you lot? Who the hell do you think you are … the Krays? You’re nothing, do you hear me. Nothing! ‘Out on the street you might be hard men, but in here …’ she gestured around the room with her free hand. ‘… you’re just my boys. That’s all. And I never thought I would see the day when you raised your hand to your own sister.’

Sarah was aware that she was speaking for effect. She knew enough about her boys to know that they were greatly feared. She had found guns hidden in the coal house and had sat beside her sons in courtrooms. She had

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even read about them in the papers. The News of the World had had a big spread a few weeks earlier about the hostess clubs in Soho, and one of the clubs mentioned was owned by this great handsome son of hers. A son she was finding it increasingly difficult to love these days. And now on top of everything she had this - her only daughter, her pride and joy, being attacked in her own home. Just because she was seeing a policeman. A decent man more than likely. Yet she knew that her daughter’s lovelife was doomed.

She looked down into Maura’s tearstained face. ‘Is it true, Maws?’

Maura couldn’t lie to her mother so she nodded. Benjamin, more alert now, said, ‘Oh my God!’ Sarah turned on him like a mad dog. ‘I’ll give you “Oh my God”, because your daughter’s decent. By Christ, it’s a wonder we haven’t got a whore on our hands, being brought up with you lot. You’re all whoremasters, the lot of you!’ Her voice was thick with tears. ‘I can’t hold me head up in the street because everyone knows about you all… everyone knows my sons are glorified pimps.’ She turned on Michael. ‘Well, my lad, I hope you get your just deserts in this life. That you pay for all that you’ve done. For the innocent lives you’ve ruined and for the death of my Anthony. I’ve always blamed you for that.’ She wagged her head at him. ‘If he hadn’t been working for you he would be at home with me now. ‘I also happen to know that you’re a queer, Michael Ryan. And I hear that they’re very good to their mothers. ‘So perhaps you could make me a happy woman now by getting of this house and not coming back. It’s high time you left anyway, at thirty-one. Go and live with your boyfriend, and take that little snipe with you!’ She pointed at Geoffrey. ‘Yes, you. You always walked in his footsteps,

tried to emulate everything he did. Well, you can follow him out of this house tonight. Go on. Get out, the pair of you.’

Michael was staring at his mother as if she had grown another head right in front of his eyes. He worshipped her, lived for her. If she turned her back on him he had nothing. He stepped towards her, his voice wheedling.

‘Mum? Don’t be silly, Mum …Idon’twanttoleaveyou.’

Sarah cut him off. ‘It’s a fine thing we bred between us, Benjamin. A cruel, sadistic mummy’s boy.’ She put up her arm to push him away. ‘Get out of my sight, Mickey. You’re making me stomach turn. While you kept your violence outside this house I could ignore it, but to see you attacking your own sister … and her no more than a child. That’s finished you as far as I’m concerned. Now just get out.’ She turned her back to him and pulled Maura tightly to her breast. Michael stood there, dazed. Geoffrey went to him, taking him gently by the arm and leading him from the room. Neither looked at their father who stood staring at his wife as if she was a stranger. He had never heard her say so much in one go, in all their years of marriage. He heard the front door slam. Turning slowly from his wife, he went back to their room.

Maura and Sarah cried together.

‘Oh, Mum … poor Mickey!’ Even after what had happened Maura could still find it in her heart to feel sorry for him. She knew that her mother was the most important thing in his life. For her to say all that to him, and for him to stand and take it, spoke volumes. Anyone else would have been dead.

‘Don’t waste any pity on him, Maws. He’s no better than a wild animal. The thought of him with another man makes me sick to me guts.’

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Sarah made herself comfortable on the bed and smoothed back her daughter’s hair from her face. She loved Maura. She admitted to herself that she had been overprotective towards her, had allowed Michael and the other boys to run her life. But when she had walked in this room and seen Michael attacking her, something inside her had snapped. Garry had been right all along. What she had done was try and take over Maura’s life, and this had been the outcome. Her daughter had found herself a man, a decent man more than likely, and the boys wanted to tear it apart.

She said softly, ‘Who’s the lucky man then?’ Maura sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘That’s the ironic part about it, Mum. As from today I’m not seeing him any more. He packed me in.’

Sarah smiled to herself. ‘Listen, child, you will meet a lot of fellows and think that you love them. It’s human nature, part of growing up. Don’t make the same mistake as I did and marry the first man that comes along. I’ve regretted marrying your father all my life. You get yourself a decent man with a decent profession. Let me sort out Mickey and the rest of them.’