Anyone Who Had a Heart (37 page)

Sally butted in. ‘Yeah! Nightclub owner, pimp – what’s the bloody difference, mate?’

‘You cow…!’

He flung the tea tray, but Sally was quicker. The chair she’d been sitting on steamed with hot tea and spilt milk. She stood by the door, still defiant and determined she would not leave her friend alone.

‘Roberto!’

Marcie’s voice pulled him up short. Sensing her mother’s fear and disturbed by the shouting, Joanna began to cry.

‘I want you to go, Roberto.’

Her heart was beating wildly, but she stood her ground even though she feared him.

‘I don’t think you do,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘I do. I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you.’

He looked at her in disbelief. Sleek and shiny with money, he’d had all the advantages from the day he’d been born; such a contrast with Johnnie who hadn’t even known who his real parents were.

‘You little tart! Who the fuck do you think you are?’

‘Someone who doesn’t want you,’ she said coldly, determined not to shout and further upset her child. Her eyes glittered with contempt and hatred. Inside she quivered like a straw in the wind.

‘You’ll regret this.’

She shook her head. ‘No I won’t.’

Curling his bottom lip, he diverted his attention to the mauve outfit Sally had been musing over earlier.

‘You’ve dropped a long way from King’s Road fashion to making this kind of stuff.’

‘Someone has to. It’s very lucrative.’

‘Making tassels and stick-on pasties for strippers?’

‘Not just strippers. I also make outfits for showgirls and female impersonators. Some men like dressing up as women.’

‘They’re queer,’ he sneered.

‘On the contrary, they love women. It’s you that doesn’t like women, Roberto; neither you nor your father. That’s why you use them like tins of corned beef.’

When he shook his head she realised he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He would be back time and time again because he didn’t believe that women were capable of sustaining a single important decision.

‘You’ll change your mind.’

She shook her head, aware of the warmth of her child against her body.

‘Never.’

Black eyebrows formed a deep V, meeting like the tip of an arrow over his nose. ‘Does the landlord of this dump know you’re making this stuff? Is it him downstairs? If so I’m off to put him straight. Then you’ll be out. You’ll have nowhere else to go.’

Marcie’s smile was slow and triumphant. She dared to hope that he would go soon. He certainly couldn’t intimidate the landlord. Allegra was far and above all that.

‘My friend Allegra owns this property. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing at all!’

At first she thought that his dropped jaw meant he was seriously disappointed, but then he began to laugh.

‘Allegra? Allegra Montillado? She owns this dump?’

Marcie was immediately unnerved. She exchanged eye contact with Sally. Sally’s eyelids fluttered nervously before she looked away. Something was wrong here and she had a terrible feeling that she’d walked into some kind of trap.

Roberto’s laughter died but the crooked smile
remained
. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said, nodding his head slowly and wearing that know-it-all smile. ‘Allegra Montillado! She might own it alright, but my father owns her. She’s his tart. His bit on the side! Didn’t you know that Marcie, darling? Allegra Montillado is nothing more than a high-class whore – my father’s high-class whore! My father pays the rent on her high-class drum. He pays for every bit of high-class rag on her back. Didn’t you know that?’

The veins on his neck stood proud like fine twigs as he threw back his head and laughed. His thick dark hair tickled the collar of his plum-coloured velvet jacket.

‘What a turn up!’ His laughter and his voice made her ears ache and made Joanna cry with more force than before.

Marcie felt as though June had turned to November. A cold chill trickled like iced water down her back. Allegra was Victor’s mistress? She couldn’t believe it. She suddenly realised that she was in instant danger of losing everything she’d worked for: her business, her flat and a gang of friends of whom she’d grown very fond.

Roberto stood like the Statue of Liberty, triumphant and empowered. He pointed a disdainful finger straight at her forehead. ‘You’re leaving here, Marcie. I’ll make sure that you’re leaving here. And there’s nowhere for you to go except to me.’

She felt surprisingly calm. Her eyes were steady, her expression surprisingly serene. ‘No. There is another place I can go.’

‘Back to that crap place you came from? Marry some local yokel and spend your life banging out kids with never two farthings to scratch your backside?’ His smirk was as wide as Chelsea Bridge. ‘Don’t make me laugh, doll.’ He threw a card onto the coffee table. ‘Ring me when you’re ready. If you don’t ring I’ll be back at seven this evening.’ He was halfway out of the door. ‘Oh, you can send the kid to your old granny if you like. Send the kid to her with Fairy Lightfoot there. She can make herself look respectable for once – probably for the only time in her life.’

He went then.

A few seconds and the door opened again. Renee peered around the door. With flickering eyes she took in the mess Roberto had made. She shook her head. ‘He’s gone. I saw him go. Not a very nice man.’

Marcie made no comment. She was rocking the screaming Joanna while trying to piece this together. She didn’t hear Sally offer to help Renee clear up. The hand caressing her daughter’s head was soft. Her hatred for Roberto was hard and strong. What was even worse was that Allegra had deceived her. The refined young woman who seemed of impeccable breeding and excellent connections was a high-class
whore
. Marcie could have accepted that. What she couldn’t accept was that Allegra had kept it a secret and seemed to have been spying on her.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said, shaking her head.

Sally too was mulling over it too. ‘I feel quite respectable,’ she said with a toss of her head. ‘Seems like we’re sisters under the skin.’

Considering all that had happened Sally’s flippancy was irritating and oddly out of place. Marcie was reminded that the two of them had confronted her with the idea of taking on the flat and the workroom in the first place. Making stage costumes for nightclub dancers had been their idea. That’s why the business had grown so quickly. They knew the dancers themselves – or at least, Sally did.

Cuddling the now placated Joanna to her breast, Marcie looked around at her home. It wasn’t large, but she’d grown fond of it. Somehow it now seemed ugly because of one particular thought that she couldn’t get out of her head. Was it really Victor’s money behind this? Was Allegra just the front instructed to report back to him?

And Sally had been in on it from the start.

She turned accusing eyes in her direction. ‘You must have known. Hadn’t you two been in contact before we met up again?’

Sally was too quick to shake her head. ‘No, I didn’t. I thought she was just rich. You might as well forget
about
her. Nightclub acts live all over the place so as long as you’re a bit central, everything will be alright.’

Marcie eyed her sidelong. Something wasn’t quite right here. Sally’s eyes would not meet hers and if it hadn’t been for Renee mopping up the mess Roberto had made, she would have asked some stiff questions. As it was Joanna began crying for her feed.

Sally was putting her coat on. ‘Don’t let him worry you. Right?’

‘You’re off?’

Sally glanced purposefully at her watch. ‘Good grief. Look at the time. My dentist will be wondering where I’ve got to if I don’t get a move on.’

Sally’s watch strap was loose and the face kept falling around to the wrong side of her wrist. Marcie noticed that when she’d checked the time she’d been confronted with the strap not the face. So! Two friends were deceiving her and everything about her new-found life was tarnished because of it.

‘Sally! I’m getting the distinct impression that Allegra is not the only one with something to hide.’

Marcie’s shout brought everyone to a standstill. The busy Renee picked up another piece of broken cutlery and took it and the tray out of the room. Sally paused by the door. She could still rush out on the pretext of the dental appointment – an appointment that hadn’t been mentioned previously.

The false eyelashes fluttered as she fought to find the right words that would do for now. ‘Look,’ she said, having at last regained her old courage and flippant casual manner. ‘I think it’s time you knew the truth. But I don’t think I’m the right person to tell you. Give me an hour and I’ll bring someone round who can tell you everything.’

‘Is that so? Well, we’ll see about that. I feel I’ve been taken for a fool,’ Marcie said. ‘You two have been taking me for a fool.’

Even though Roberto hadn’t been aware of Allegra’s involvement in her business, she still suspected he might have been putting it on – just so the situation could continue and he could keep his eye on her. It would explain why she hadn’t been getting any phone calls or visits from him. He’d been biding his time, perhaps laughing at the fact that she was ignorant of what was going on. She’d been stupid not to see things as they really were. She’d been making outfits for nightclub acts. The clubs owned by the Camilleris used a lot of nightclub acts. Sadly, everything was falling into place and she was angry, and not just angry. She was frightened.

Sally shook her head vehemently. She was still poised for flight.

‘Look,’ she said, her pearl pink fingernails gripping the edge of the open door. ‘Give me an hour. Everything will be sorted. You’ll see.’

The door closed.

There was nothing Marcie could do to prevent her from leaving. One hour! How much could she pack in one hour? How far could she flee? She rang Michael’s office, where he’d set up his commercial property business. The receptionist told her he was out at an auction.

‘Tell him it’s Marcie and I’m going home.’

Sheerness and the Isle of Sheppey and a simpler life beckoned. She would not be here when Sally got back.

MARCIE’S STEPMOTHER, BABS
, stood by the back door with her arms folded. Smoke rose from a lighted cigarette hanging between the index and middle fingers of her right hand. She was frowning at the ungainly figure digging the dark earth where the chicken coop used to be. Armed with dibbers, the boys were making the holes for the cabbage seedlings to go in.

‘Can’t he grow nothing other than cabbages?’

Her question was directed at her mother-in-law. Rosa Brooks was sitting by the back door shelling peas. She always kept a low stool outside the back door for this purpose.

‘No,’ she said as she popped a pod and plucked the green peas from within.

‘And he’s talking to himself,’ said Babs and frowned. She’d taken to visiting Rosa more often since Marcie had left for London taking her kid with her. She had it in mind to get herself a job now she had a ready-made babysitter to hand. Rosa could look after Annie while she went to work. A bit of extra money would come in handy. She hadn’t broached the subject yet. A bit of softening
up
was called for first. Get Rosa on a different subject before asking if she was up to looking after Annie.

Frowning, she licked a sliver of tobacco from her lip and flicked it into flight.

Garth was her present subject of choice. ‘He’s not right that one. I don’t know whether I should let the boys play with him. He might be a bit queer – you know …’

‘No. I do not know. Garth would not harm anyone. Of that I am sure.’

Babs watched Archie and Arnold, her two boys, put their dibbers to one side and pat Garth on the arm before taking their bicycles out through the back gate. They’d obviously had enough of gardening.

‘See you later, Ma,’ they both shouted.

Garth’s mouth continued to move as though he were chewing something. His voice carried towards them. His words were jumbled and he certainly wasn’t talking to the boys. He’d seen them go.

Babs decided to give it another try. ‘He’s still talking to himself.’

‘No he is not.’

Babs pursed her lips. Rosa could be a right cow sometimes. But she had to try again. That bloke at the fishmonger’s had promised her a job serving behind the counter. Who cares if she came home smelling of smoked haddock? The money wasn’t
bad
and best of all she got to take home the fish that had been on display for a few days and hadn’t sold. Especially on a weekend; fish on Sunday would make a change from a Sunday roast, she told herself. It would also taste extra special because it was free.

‘Mum. There was something I wanted to ask you. I’ve been offered this job and what with Tony working away all the time …’

Rosa wasn’t listening. She’d got up from her chair, her old, dark eyes filled with alarm.

Babs looked up the garden to where it seemed the field of ripe cabbages in front of the seedlings had suddenly come alive. Leaves and stalks were bending and trembling. Garth was nowhere to be seen.

Rosa got to him first. He was on the ground, his limbs twitching and his eyes rolling in his head.

‘Call an ambulance,’ ordered Rosa.

Babs didn’t wait to be told twice. She knew a fit when she saw one and headed for the telephone box at the end of the street.

Rosa cupped her hand beneath Garth’s head. ‘Garth? Garth? Can you hear me? Can you hear me, Garth?’

No one had trained her to speak calmly and firmly. No one had trained her to hold his eyes with her own. She just
felt
that this was what she must do.

Some would say that look was hypnotic, though Rosa did not look at it that way. To her mind she was sharing her own strength and also her own experiences in order to allay Garth’s worst fears.

‘Relax. Breathe deeply.’

She showed him how, taking deep breaths directly from her diaphragm.

‘Listen to me. Listen to me … Do you hear my voice, Garth?’

Even as she said the words, the frenzied twitching lost its momentum, his eyes stopped rolling and stayed fixed on hers. Only the dribble remained staining his shirt collar and pullover.