East End Trouble (15 page)

W
hen Dave Carter
came home for lunch, his wife Sandra put a cheese and pickle sandwich on the table in front of him and then massaged her back.

“Are you all right, love?”

Sandra shook her head. “I’m run off my feet. Lillian’s come down with measles now, so they’re both supposed to be in bed, but the pair of them are running me ragged.”

Dave tucked into his cheese and pickle sandwich.

“Why don’t you take the weight off, love?” he said, nodding to the empty chair beside him at the kitchen table.

Sandra looked around at the mountain of washing she was supposed to be doing, but then she sighed and sat down next to Dave.

“How’s work?” Sandra asked, rubbing a tired hand through her hair.

“It’s going well. We’re opening the new car workshop tomorrow. It’s been a lot of work, but I think it’ll be worth it.” He took another bite of sandwich and then looked up. “It’s the way of the future. Everyone will have a car soon… Hey, Sandra, love, what’s wrong?”

A tear trickled down Sandra’s cheek. “I don’t care about the bleeding future, Dave. I care about the here and now. The kids are ill, and I’ve got so much to do here. I can’t manage. Can’t you stay here this afternoon and look after the kids. You’re so good with them.”

Dave reached out and took his wife’s hand in his.

“Of course, I will. I’ll pop back after lunch and tell Brian he’s in charge. I can trust him to hold the fort for a few hours. I’ll tuck the kids up in bed and tell them to stay there before I go, and then I’ll get some chips for tea, so you just put your feet up this afternoon.

“Thanks, love,” Sandra said tearfully.

Dave polished off his sandwich then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before standing up and making his way to Trevor’s room.

The little boy’s eyes were half closed as he looked up at his father. “Dad, I don’t feel very well.”

“I know you don’t, son. You just need to get some sleep, and you’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.”

Dave reached out and touched Trevor’s forehead. He was warm, but not hot enough to make Dave worry he had a fever. “You get some rest, and we’ll have some chips for tea does that sound good?”

Trevor gave a weak little smile, and Dave pulled up the covers, making sure the little boy’s body was fully wrapped up.

Before Dave even left the room, Trevor had fallen asleep.

In complete contrast to her little brother, Lillian was full of beans, sitting upright in bed, playing with a doll.

“Daddy!” she said excitedly when Dave came in the room.

Dave put a finger to his lips. “Now what are you doing up playing? You’re supposed to be going to sleep. You’re not well.”

Lillian flopped back against the pillows and pouted. “It’s so boring.”

Dave sat beside her on the bed.

“Come on, young lady. Get under those covers and close your eyes. The doctor said sleep is the best thing for you.”

“I think I could probably fall asleep if you told me a story,” Lillian said, and Dave had to smile at her persistence.

“All right then, one story and then you go to sleep, promise?”

Lillian nodded happily and snuggled under the covers.

“Well,” Dave began. “Once upon a time, there was a girl called Cinderella. She was a princess.”

Lillian’s face puckered in a frown, but she stayed quiet to let her father continue.

“But there was a nasty old queen who didn’t believe that Cinderella was really a princess so she decided to put a pea under her mattress because if Cinderella really was a princess she’d be able to feel it.”

Lillian sat bolt upright in bed. “No! That’s not right, Daddy! You’re mixing up the stories.
Cinderella
is a different story to the
Princess and the Pea
. Cinderella had the ugly sisters!”

“Is that right?” Dave said chucking her under the chin.

“Yes,” Lillian giggled.

“Well, I don’t think there’s much wrong with you, is there? You’re still a clever little thing.”

Sandra’s voice suddenly boomed out from the kitchen. “Lillian! I hope you’re not giving your father the runaround! I expect you to be asleep in five minutes flat.”

Dave pulled the funny face at Lillian. “That’s blown it,” he said. “I’d better tuck you in. Now get some sleep, sweetheart.” He kissed her cheek and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

When he returned to the kitchen, Sandra looked up at him. She was trying to keep her face stern, but she couldn’t quite quash the smile that spread over her face. “You spoil the girl.”

“Never,” Dave said, grinning. “How about I spoil you a bit now, eh? Come here.”

Dave opened up his arms and pulled Sandra in for a cuddle. She rested her head against his chest as he stroked her hair.

He planted a kiss on her forehead and said, “I don’t tell you this enough, love, but you and the kids are my world.”

K
athleen Diamond gave
birth to a healthy baby boy after being in labour for twenty-four hours. She was now lying in a hospital bed, thoroughly worn out. She’d thought the pain would never end, and the whole ordeal had left her exhausted.

It was visiting hours, and her mother was perched on a chair by her bedside. They’d taken Kathleen’s little boy off to the baby ward, and her mother had just been along to see him.

“Honestly, love, he is ever so handsome. He’ll break some hearts when he’s older,” Mary Diamond said.

Kathleen smiled weakly. When she’d looked down at the little baby’s bright red face, she’d noticed that he had a mop of dark hair, very like Martin Morton. She hadn’t seen any of her own features in the baby, but it was early days.

“Yes, he does look like Martin, doesn’t he?”

The smile slid from Mary Diamond’s face. “Actually, I was thinking he looked quite like your Great Uncle Fred. He had very dark hair, too.”

“Well, I hope he does look like Martin,” Kathleen said.

Martin Morton was much more likely to fork out money if the baby looked like him. In Kathleen’s dreams, the kid grew up to be amazingly talented and gorgeous, and Martin grew to adore him.

She leaned back against the pillows. “He hasn’t been around asking after me, has he?”

Kathleen hadn’t heard anything from Martin, and as she knew her mother didn’t like him, she wouldn’t put it past her to make sure he stayed away.

Mary frowned. “No, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him. I wouldn’t be surprised if we never see him again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s his son,” Kathleen snapped, but truthfully she was a little worried. She didn’t know what she would do if Martin decided he didn’t want to support the baby.

She’d hoped he’d come with a bunch of flowers, like one of the other fathers had done. The sister on the ward had forbidden him from bringing them in, but Kathleen thought it was ever so romantic that he’d tried. It was the thought that counted, and she wasn’t sure if Martin had thought of her and the baby once.

She’d heard through the grapevine that Babs had given birth to a little girl just days earlier. They’d named her Emily.

All of the other women on the ward were married, and they’d had their husbands to visit. Kathleen felt quite out of place with only her mum coming to see her. She felt as if all the other women on the ward were judging her.

“So what are you going to call him?” Mary asked, breaking into Kathleen’s thoughts.

Kathleen chewed on her lip. She’d been hoping to talk the matter over with Martin and get his input on the baby’s name, but it didn’t look like he was interested.

“I quite like the name Jimmy. James Diamond, and I’ll call him Jimmy.”

Mary smiled. Her own father had been named James, and everyone had called him Jimmy. Touched, she reached over and patted her daughter’s hand. “It suits him. Jimmy Diamond. Perfect.”

“Did the nurse tell you how long they expect me to be in here?” Kathleen asked.

She couldn’t wait to get out and get things sorted. When she was back home, she’d be able to talk to Martin properly and make sure he understood his responsibilities. Stuck inside the hospital, she didn’t have a hope in hell of doing that.

“You’ll be here at least another week yet,” Mary said. “To make sure you know how to feed the little mite and change him, that sort of thing.”

Kathleen’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed. A whole week stuck in the hospital! How would she cope?

“Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?”

Kathleen nodded. “Just a bit tired.”

She leaned back on the pillows and shut her eyes. They’d be bringing the baby back round for his feed soon, and she intended to catch up on her beauty sleep. After she left, she was planning to go straight to see Martin Morton, and she needed to look her best for that.

T
he following day
, Dave Carter was back at his new workshop for the grand opening. Both the kids had been feeling a little better that morning after a good night’s sleep, and no doubt within a few days, they would be back at school.

Dave gazed proudly around the workshop. It had been kitted out with all the latest machinery, and no expense had been spared.

Carter’s Cars. Dave looked up at the simple sign over the door. His old man would be proud if he could see him now. Dave was planning to keep this business legit. Mostly, anyway. Obviously, he’d have to spend a few quid here and there for bribes, but there would be no stolen motors or any of that sort of stuff going on in his new business.

He’d bunged some money to a friend of his to assure a contract with a group of black cabs, and he’s also secured a contract from a small bus firm, who arranged things like day trips to Southend. That would be his bread-and-butter work.

Dave grinned. The sky was the limit, and he intended to expand soon. He would have places all over the East End and then maybe even other places in the country.

Brian stood by his side, and Dave slapped him on the back. “Thanks for yesterday, Brian. You did a great job holding things together for me.”

“Not a problem, Dave,” Brian said, grinning broadly. “It really does look good, doesn’t it?”

The mechanics had arrived for work, dressed in their brand-new navy blue overalls with Carter’s Cars stitched above the breast pockets.

Dave gave them a little guided tour around the workshop, then turned to them and asked, “So what do you men think?”

The man he’d employed as the supervisor was first to speak up. “I can say without a doubt it’s the best equipped workshop I’ve ever worked in. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Carter.”

“Just do me proud boys, okay?”

He turned to Brian. “What do you say to going for a drink to celebrate?”

“Sounds like a smashing idea.”

But before Dave and Brian had even turned around there was a voice shouting for Dave. A little boy ran into the workshop, panting for breath.

“What are you doing here?” Brian boomed. “This isn’t a bleeding playground. Go on, skedaddle.”

The little boy ignored Brian and ran up to Dave. “Mr. Carter…Mr. Carter, come quick! Something bad has happened, and you’ve got to go home.”

Dave stared down at the little boy’s dirty face. He’d recognised him from somewhere. He was one of the neighbours’ boys.

“What’s happened?”

The little boy shrugged. “I was playing outside your house, and Mrs. Carter told me to come and get you. She said it was very important. Something bad has happened.”

Dave didn’t bother to ask any more questions and strode quickly outside the workshop, breaking into a jog. Luckily the workshop was only a few minutes’ walk from home.

Brian tried to jog after him, but he was a big bloke and didn’t find it easy to keep up. “Anything I can do Dave?” he wheezed as he tried to catch Dave.

“Just keep an eye on the workshop, Brian,” Dave called over his shoulder and then picked up speed until he was running flat-out.

When Dave burst through his front door, he immediately knew something was wrong. There were people in the house he didn’t recognise.

From the hallway, he saw a woman with dyed red hair sat at his kitchen table with her arm around Sandra. As he got closer, he realised it was Rita from next door.

A tall, skinny man in a brown suit, stood by the sink. He definitely didn’t recognise him.

“What the hell is going on?” Dave demanded.

The tall man stepped forward and looked like he was about to say something, but Sandra got there first.

She let out a wail. “Dave it’s Lillian. I went into her bedroom, and she was all limp. She wouldn’t wake up.”

Dave didn’t wait for the rest of the story. He quickly turned around and rushed up the stairs to Lillian’s bedroom.

His little girl lay back on the bed as if she was sleeping peacefully. Other than a few spots scattered over her face and arms, she looked exactly the same as she always did. Dave rushed to her bedside and shook her arm gently. “Lillian! Lillian, wake up. It’s daddy.”

But Lillian didn’t wake up.

When Dave realised Sandra, Rita and the tall, thin man were standing behind him in the doorway, he turned around to face them.

“Why how long has she been like this?” He couldn’t understand why they were just standing around doing nothing.

“I found her an hour ago,” Sandra said in a trembling voice.

She shook her head, and then Rita spoke up, “She called me, and I went to get the doctor straight away.” She turned to the tall, lanky man beside her in the brown suit.

Dave’s blood turned to ice in his veins.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Carter,” the tall man said. “It was too late when I got here.”

Dave’s mind wouldn’t process the doctor’s words. He just wouldn’t let them sink in. He pushed back the blankets and scooped up his daughter in his arms. “Why are you all standing there like a bunch of lemons? She needs the hospital, doesn’t she? Quick, out of my way.”

Before Dave could pass through the door, the doctor put his hands firmly on his shoulders. “Listen to me, Mr. Carter. It’s too late. I’m very sorry, but Lillian has passed on.”

Dave shook his head. What was the stupid pillock on about?

He looked down at Lillian in his arms and then held her up so the doctor could see her. “She’s just asleep. Does she really look dead to you? She’s still warm for God’s sake.”

Sandra was openly sobbing now, and Rita put her arm around her and led her away.

The doctor said nothing for a moment. He looked at Dave with sad, grey eyes and then carefully guided Dave back towards Lillian’s bed.

“It’s time to put her down now, Mr. Carter.”

With shaking hands, for once in his life, Dave did as he was told. He carefully laid his little girl back in her bed, pulling up the covers one last time.