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Authors: Martina Cole

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Two Women (20 page)

BOOK: Two Women
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June shook her head sagely.
‘But marrying him and being lumbered for life is a foolish thing to do, girl, you mark my words. He’s already unfaithful, he treats you like a nothing, and more importantly he doesn’t give you much money. Just exactly what are you getting out of this except a new name?’
Ivy was annoyed and it showed.
‘She’ll get what you got, June: a man. Someone to take care of her and look after her and her kids. Now will you shut the fuck up for two minutes and stop putting the kibosh on everything? I reckon you’re just jealous.’
‘Jealous of what? Her? Don’t make me laugh. I can see what her life’s going to be and so can you.’
June stormed from the room and Susan dropped her head on to her chest. ‘She’s been funny all morning, Ivy, take no notice of her.’
Her grandmother nodded.
‘Remembering her own wedding day and realising she’s over the hill, that’s what’s eating at her.’
‘Maybe, but don’t antagonise her today, I want it all to go really well.’
‘You’re getting a good man there, I hope you realise that, Sue? I bet he’s good in the kip, eh?’
Susan laughed despite herself.
‘You’re terrible you are.’
Ivy laughed.
‘In this get up I might even pull meself. Who knows, eh?’ She roared with laughter and Susan laughed with her. ‘How’s the house coming on, love?’
Ivy was impressed that they had already been given a council house. That was because Barry had dropped a few quid on the housing officer and he had arranged it all for them. The house was lovely and just down the road from her. A double pleasure so far as Ivy was concerned.
‘It’s been decorated and the furniture’s in. It looks lovely. Barry’s even had someone in to dig the garden. Oh, and guess what? He bought me a vacuum cleaner and a washing machine.’
Her grandmother sighed with happiness.
‘You are a lucky girl, you know. He’ll go places him. You mark my words.’
‘I do love him.’
Ivy grunted her agreement.
‘Of course you do. What’s not to love about him, eh? He’s a bundle of manhood him. I wish I was you tonight, I ain’t had a bit since the old King died.’
She roared with laughter once more.
June came back into the bedroom with a bottle of champagne and some glasses.
‘Come on then, get this down you. Barry left it yesterday, said to get you half pissed so you looked in a good mood.’
They all took a glass and Ivy held hers up in a toast.
‘To Susan and Barry.’
They chinked glasses and drank the cold bubbling wine. Susan finished hers and laughed. This really was the happiest day of her life. In a few hours she would be Mrs Barry Dalston and she could not wait.
 
Barry opened his eyes and squinted. His mouth was dry and his eyes felt as if they were glued shut. He could smell himself, a mixture of sweat and alcohol so strong it made his eyes water and helped to open them properly.
He was in the new house, he knew that much from the wallpaper. In his bedroom, the one he would share with Susan.
A movement beside him made him look round. To either side of him a woman lay asleep and Joey snored at the bottom of the bed.
Memories assailed Barry as he tried to remember what had happened the night before. He saw fleeting images of strip clubs, a gambling den and a brothel in Paddington. He felt the bile rise inside him and swallowed it down.
His head hurt and his face was aching. Then he remembered the fight. Sitting upright he felt his face over and sighed with annoyance. He had at the very least a black eye and a swollen mouth. His mother would slaughter him if he didn’t look perfect for the priest.
Joey stirred and sat up slowly. His eyes were red-rimmed but his face was unmarked.
‘All right?’
It was his usual form of address.
‘What’s it fucking look like, Joey? They’ll kill me. Me mother, Susan, June. All of them.’
Joey shrugged and rubbed one of the women’s legs to wake her up. ‘Come on, you, up and out of it. You’ve had the best, now leave some for the rest.’
‘Where the fucking hell did we get this pair of old dragons?’ Barry said peevishly.
One green eye opened and a voice that could crack concrete said stridently, ‘You weren’t fucking complaining last night, sonny.’
He kicked her from the bed until she fell on to the floor.
‘I was fucking paralytic last night, darlin’, that’s why I never complained. Who in their right mind would fuck either of you sober?’
The woman stood up and with as much dignity as she could muster said nastily, ‘Same same, mate, same same.’
‘Go on, fuck off, and take your twin with you. I assume you’re related because no two people could be that ugly by accident.’
Joey laughed at the woman’s outraged expression and so did Barry.
‘You still owe us money.’
Barry was out of the bed, making the woman wince.
‘Are you telling me you expect us to pay?’ His voice had risen about five octaves with shock.
The other woman began to wake up. She stretched out her arms and yawned, her breath sour as her body.
‘Where did we get you two from, if you don’t mind my asking?’ Joey put in.
As they began to dress the two women ignored him. He watched anyway. They were about thirty with heavy legs and flat chests, but the taller of the two had nice hair and eyes.
‘Come on, girls, where did we get you from, eh?’
The taller one answered him.
‘The Valbon if you must know, and we’re not transvestites. We were on our night off and you talked us into a night’s work. So pay up.’
‘Bollocks! Get dressed and piss off.’
Barry walked from the room, his head splitting.
‘Get them out, Joey, and I’ll make us a cup of tea. Me mother stocked us up yesterday.’ Then, running back into the bedroom, he glared at the small clock on the bedside table. ‘Fuck me! She’ll be here soon with me cousins to lay out the food for the reception. If she sees this pair she’ll do her fucking pieces.’
‘Relax, boy, we’re nearly dressed. You just give us our dosh and we’ll go quietly as little mice.’
It was a threat and Barry knew it. Taking the taller woman by her hair, he began to drag her from the bedroom. At the top of the stairs he bellowed, ‘Do you want to walk down them or shall I fucking kick you? The choice is yours, darling.’
The blonde prostitute came out of the room like a bullet. Holding their shoes and bags and coats she forced her friend down the stairs. At the front door she looked up at Barry and cried, ‘We were off work with the clap so happy wedding day, you wanker.’
He was halfway down the stairs after them before he realised he was naked. Taking his cock in his hands he groaned.
‘It looks all red, Joey.’
Joey laughed his head off.
‘I ain’t surprised. You nearly wore them two out, son. That’s old tom talk. Now make the tea, for fuck’s sake. Me mouth feels like the bottom of a bird cage.’
Joey started to tidy the bedroom. The sheets were smeared with everything from lipstick to semen, but still he made the bed. After a couple of minutes the urge to pee was growing strong and he lurched towards the toilet. As he peed he felt a stinging sensation and swore under his breath.
That was all they needed now, a round of applause. Last time he’d had the clap June had gone mental. When he’d finished he put his head under the cold tap to liven himself up. As he finished dressing he heard Barry’s mother, Kate, coming in with the food.
‘Are you all right, son?’
Her voice was pure cockney. She had married a Scots-man and after his murder had returned to her roots. She worshipped her son as his mother worshipped Joey. He really liked her.
Kate was loyal, decent, and kept her ears and mouth shut. She was everything a woman should be so far as he was concerned. Barry had confided that before and after his father’s death there had been no other men for her.
Kate went to mass daily and prayed for him and his father, and that was about it. She saw no wrong in her son and took his part against anyone with a different opinion from her own. All in all she was an honest to God cockney, one of the old school.
Her home was spotless, her food exemplary and a warm welcome assured. Joey wished she was his old woman, he would love to have married someone like that. She was still good-looking and all. For her age, of course. But he wouldn’t kick it out of bed if he got the chance, and Christ knew he had tried enough times. Kate always acted as if she didn’t know what he was trying to do.
He shrugged as he tidied his hair before going down to her. Maybe she didn’t. Not all women were like June, up for whatever was going.
As he thought of his wife he sighed. She was only trumping a bleeding Indian stall-holder off the lane! He had a big Jag, a turban and a set of gleaming white teeth that had cost a small fortune.
Joey smiled. Well, let him make the most of them because Joey was going to knock them out of that bastard’s head soon. All he wanted to do first was find out if the bloke had anything worth nicking then find an opportunity to pinch whatever he could while teaching the Asian ponce a lesson he wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
Fucking June! She did her bit for race relations all right.
Kate smiled at him as he came into the kitchen.
‘I’m making eggs and bacon, do you want some?’
Joey grinned happily and rubbed his hands together.
‘Please. We could do with something to get us back to normal.’
Barry, he noticed, looked suitably shamefaced in front of his mother and this cheered Joey up. The boy had been getting a right little rep for himself recently, and although Joey was still the mainstay of the operation, Barry could well take it into his head to work alone. Which was why this marriage was a godsend in more ways than one.
When Joey was too drunk or stoned to finish off a deal, Barry would automatically take over. He had been nicked already, done his bird and kept his head down and his trap shut. Three months he had been banged up and it had done the boy some good. He didn’t want to go back and that was an encouraging sign.
Now he would do anything to stay out of clink, and anything was a big threat to the world.
 
The church was packed, the smell of polish overpowering in the heat of July. Susan was already sweating like a pig and her hair was sticking to her forehead in damp tendrils.
‘I wish they’d bleeding hurry up.
I’m
supposed to arrive late, not him.’
‘He’s a ponce like your father. That shit head was late for our wedding,’ June said sourly.
Susan’s voice was high.
‘Will you stop swearing in church?’
Her mother rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
‘Like we come in here all the time! Bleeding waste of time and energy this. If there ever was a God, love, He forgot about us a long time ago.’
Susan ignored this and concentrated on trying to look out of the small window beside the church doors to see if Barry and Joey had arrived.
‘I’ll string that bastard up if he’s got nicked today, I take oath on that.’
June’s voice was hard and Susan’s belly twinged. The child was lying heavily inside her. It kicked, a strong hard movement that nearly doubled her over.
‘Here, love, you all right?’
She nodded and took a deep breath, rubbing her swollen belly as she did so.
‘Yeah, I’m all right. I think the baby is as fed up as we are, that’s all.’
Ivy lit a cigarette and took a deep draw on it.
‘Here you are, love, puff that. It will calm you down.’
Susan took the cigarette gratefully and puffed on it hard.
‘Where are they?’
‘They could be anywhere. Up jack’s arse and round the corner for all we know.’ Ivy’s voice was resigned.
Susan was beginning to panic now. Barry was nearly half an hour late.
‘He is coming, Mum, ain’t he?’
The fear of being left at the altar entered her head then and she felt a sickening lurch in her stomach as she realised that, with the hump, Barry was quite capable of deliberately ‘forgetting’ to turn up.
June looked into her daughter’s white strained face and felt a moment’s pity for her.
‘Get used to this, love. He’s like your father though you can’t see that yet. All his life he’ll do only what he wants, darlin’, and there’s fuck all you can do about it. I hope he don’t come in a way. Do you a favour though you won’t see it like that, not for a long time.’
Susan felt tears sting her eyes and tried to stem them before she began to wail out loud. If Barry shamed her in front of everyone she would kill him, kill him stone dead.
Where was he?
 
‘Here, flag down that Old Bill car!’
The two women watching the fight were mesmerised. One of them ran to the kerb and raised her shopping bags in a signal for the squad car to stop.
‘What’s going on, ladies?’
The two young PCs could see the fight for themselves but it looked a bit vicious and they wanted to call for back up.
Betty Tomlinson pursed her lips.
‘From what I can gather that blue car was cut up by the black one and now the four occupants are having a tear up. But from the looks of the two men winning, I’d say a bride somewhere is tearing her hair out. Look at the ribbons on the car. What a disgrace, eh, fighting in the street on your wedding day? This didn’t happen in my day, I can tell you.’
The policemen weren’t listening. They had already clocked Joey and Barry battering two middle-aged men all around the road. Five minutes later two more panda cars arrived and the young PCs decided now was an appropriate time to get out of their motor.
‘Look at them, they’ve been going at it ever since we got here.’
An older policeman sighed.
BOOK: Two Women
5.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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