East End Angel Part 6

'Just the afternoon off; I've been to see my mum and dad.' Kathy had been about to question him on how he was acquainted with Charlie Potter but he'd neatly side-stepped, managing to change the subject before she'd had a chance.

'Live in Islington, do they?'

Kathy nodded.

Nick glanced past at a turning some yards away. 'Not Campbell Road?'

'Oh, no.' Kathy choked a giggle. 'Don't let my mum hear you say that.' She elevated her eyebrows, feigning alarm. 'Have your guts for garters, she will, Mr Raven, if you imply any such dreadful thing.'

'Not the nicest place, is it?' Nick propped an arm against the bodywork of his car.

'Some good people live there, though,' Kathy returned, recalling her interesting chat with Matilda just an hour or so ago.

Nick drew a pack of Players from his pocket. 'Yeah? I wouldn't have thought a nice girl like you would know anything about that slum. Who're you friendly with up there?' He offered her a cigarette, then when she declined with a headshake lit his own.

'n.o.body you'd know.' For some reason, Kathy was reluctant to oblige him with an answer. Mrs Keiver didn't take kindly to being gossiped about. Kathy had heard the woman putting a flea in her mother's ear for tattling behind her back. Winnie and Matilda had long had a volatile relations.h.i.+p although at present they seemed on an even keel.

'I know people who've lived in the Bunk, and still have relatives in the road ... might be the same family you know.' Nick exhaled smoke with his words, his expression teasing.

'Name them?' Kathy challenged. He might mock her for her att.i.tude but people like him who appeared affluent usually denied any link with such a notorious neighbourhood.

'Rob Wild and his brother, Stephen. They've both moved on to better things but were brought up at that end of the road there.' Nick pointed his smouldering cigarette at the Bunk's junction with Seven Sisters. 'Worst part, that is; people who live up the other end reckon they're a better cla.s.s.'

He'd correctly stated that Campbell Road's inhabitants seemed to form two distinct camps. Winnie had told her some residents were reluctant to venture across the Paddington Street dissection and into 'foreign territory', as they called it. Matilda had never observed such a rule. In her prime she had been a rent collector and would walk the Bunk top to bottom on her rounds, gaining a fearsome reputation for fighting with men as well as women to extract from them what they owed her guvnor.

'Know the Wilds, do you?' Nick asked.

'Never heard of them,' Kathy said, giving him a deliberately dubious frown.

'Rob's aunt's still there in the road. Been moving up and down from one dump to another, she has, for donkey's years. All her daughters scarpered, though, soon as they could. I expect they're all married now. I think Matilda remarried after her first husband died-'

'Matilda?' Kathy interrupted, the start of a smile curving her mouth.

'Yeah ... Matilda Keiver, as she was then ... know her?'

'I've been talking to her this afternoon!' Kathy gasped an astonished laugh. 'She never actually married Reg Donovan, so she's still Mrs Keiver.' Kathy belatedly remembered her rule about not gossiping. 'Small world, isn't it? I thought you were making up knowing anybody.'

'Yeah ... I know you did.' Nick said. 'Why's that?'

'Why's what?' Kathy felt awkward. She knew he was asking why she thought he'd bother doing something so trivial. And she couldn't find an answer, other than that she didn't completely trust him to be honest. Yet he'd given her no reason not to. 'You being an East Ender, I thought you wouldn't know people round here,' she mumbled. 'Oh ... my bus ...' She took a step away, unsure whether she was relieved or sorry to be on her way back to Whitechapel.

She'd lost her place in the queue but was hoping she might squash a place on the vehicle pulling in at the kerb some yards away. It was standing room only inside and Kathy knew that was a bad sign for those who'd been dawdling in the cold waiting for its arrival.

'Bye ... nice to see you ... gotta go ...' she threw over a shoulder at him, trotting away. She slowed down, huffing a disappointed sigh on seeing the conductor put his arm across the gangway to shoo away all but a few of the hopeful pa.s.sengers. Kathy realised if she'd not lost her place near the head of the queue she'd be on her way home.

'Come on, I'll give you a lift.' Nick strolled up behind her, pitching his dog end to the pavement. 'I'm heading back that way meself.' He gave her a smile on noticing her hesitation. 'What's worrying you, Kathy? I got you home in one piece last time, didn't I?'

An elderly woman in front of Kathy in the queue turned and gave the two of them an extremely old-fas.h.i.+oned look while adjusting her headscarf.

Nick averted his laughing face and, taking Kathy's elbow, steered her towards his car.

She wasn't sure why she'd not objected. Usually if any man even David acted high-handed her hackles would rise. But she was glad of a lift home and it was a sensible solution as they were both heading in the same direction. Kathy clapped her gloved hands together. 'Still gets cold in the evenings even though it'll soon be May,' she blurted, feeling self-conscious as they set off.

'Nights are much lighter, though.' Nick bowed to her need for a bit of small talk.

He'd liked her the first time they'd met and not forgotten her. He slanted her a glance, noticing her nervousness, wanting to put her at ease. She was young ... demure ... and he found that rather odd considering the work she did.

A previous girlfriend of his, way back, had been a nurse. Lorna had been a confident brash sort with a big bust and a big laugh, and a very generous nature much appreciated by the boys.

Nick's eyes travelled over the pet.i.te blonde sitting beside him, hands neatly folded in her lap, head turned to watch pa.s.sing scenery. He found himself brooding on how intimate a relations.h.i.+p Miss Finch had with her boyfriend ... then stopped pretty quickly when he found himself veering between resentment and arousal.

'So, Nurse Finch, how come you've got some free time? Does the doctor take over in emergencies when the midwife is needed and you're not about?'

'His wife does.' Kathy turned towards him for a chat. 'Eunice had my job before she married Dr Worth.'

'Married the boss, did she, clever girl?'

'She's trained up same as I am so covers for me when I'm off. Normally, she's the receptionist at the surgery. She hates me having time off because since she's gone up in the world she prefers her cushy number sitting behind a desk. But I insist on me time off. One afternoon and one day at the weekend.'

'Quite right too,' Nick said. 'Not seeing your friend David then this afternoon?'

Kathy shot him a sharp glance, amazed he'd remembered that she had a boyfriend, let alone his name. 'He's on duty. We don't always get the same s.h.i.+fts.'

'On duty?'

'He's a policeman.'

'Better watch what I say and do then ...'

'Yes,' Kathy replied.

Nick looked at her and for a moment their eyes held. Kathy had a feeling he wasn't just talking about watching his step because he was acting flirtatious. She recalled Charlie Potter's bloodied face and her suspicion that they'd been fighting on the night Ruby had given birth. She realised she knew very little about this man: what he did and the company he kept. She didn't even know if he was married, not that it bothered her if he was. But his wife might get annoyed if she found out this was the second time he'd driven her home with a glint in his eye. Kathy gazed out of the car window, thinking her life was complicated enough so it might have been better to have waited for the next bus after all ...

'How's the Potters' little lad doing?' Nick asked, as though his mind had been tracking hers back to the night they met.

'He's starting to thrive. His name is Paul and he's nearly two months old.'

A silence developed and, s.n.a.t.c.hing a glance at his frowning profile, she could tell he was mulling that over.

'Charlie's taken to him then, has he?'

'I wouldn't go so far as to say that,' Kathy said slowly. The last time she'd been on a visit to the family Charlie had been nowhere to be seen. She'd gleaned from Ruby's muttered comments that her husband's moods were unpredictable and that put her constantly on edge.

'Do you know who the boy's father is?'

'Ruby never speaks about him ... just hints. I think he might be a seaman she met at the docks. He's probably long gone, sailing the high seas.'

'Ah ... right ... so you know Charlie's missus has a profession.'

'I guessed she does what she has to, to get by,' Kathy retorted.

Nick raised his hands from the steering wheel in a gesture of truce. 'Don't jump down me throat. I'm not moralising ...'

'Good ... because perhaps you shouldn't ...' Kathy said sourly.

'And that means?' Nick asked levelly, tapping a cigarette from the pack of Players and jamming it between his lips.

'It means I think you had a fight with Ruby's husband the night her baby was born and that's why he looked bashed up and was in a foul temper.'

'And what's that got to do with his missus working as a bra.s.s?'

'Her husband's meaner to her than usual when he's in a rage over something. I don't suppose he took kindly to getting a beating or a soaking off you. When things aren't going right for Charlie he keeps Ruby short of money, she's told me that. So I imagine she does whatever it takes to feed her kids ... Oh, what do you care!' Kathy felt uncontrollably irritated. 'Stop the car, I'll make my own way back home, thanks all the same.'

'Calm down, Kathy.' Nick sounded vaguely amused. 'Is it all right if I call you Kathy?'

'No. It isn't. Would you stop the car, please, Mr Raven.'

'You can call me Nick.'

Kathy glared at him. He smiled back with easy charm.

'Calm down,' he repeated soothingly.

For some reason, Kathy did start to relax. She felt the tension melt out of her limbs and she threw back her head and closed her eyes, accepting she'd overreacted. 'Sorry,' she mumbled. 'It's just ...' She didn't know how to explain that for some reason Ruby Potter and her children plucked at her heartstrings in a way that none of the other poor families she'd dealt with ever had.

Ruby, baby Paul and the other Potter children had wormed into her mind and she thought about them a lot between her visits. Kathy realised that her sister's miserable existence probably made her p.r.o.ne to pity women who'd been corrupted into vice by older men. She'd no idea what had happened in Ruby's youth; they'd never spoken about it. But she wouldn't be surprised to learn that, as a girl, Ruby had been abused and exploited as her own sister, Jennifer, had.

'Are you interested in knowing why I had a fight with Charlie?' Nick asked mildly, breaking into Kathy's reflection.

'Yes ...' Kathy eventually answered.

'My mother and Charlie were at school together. Long time ago, that was. They're both in their forties now. Me mum's got a florist's shop and Charlie's been making a nuisance of himself over there. Seems he thinks she likes him as much as he does her. When she put him straight he got nasty, smashed up the place. So I thought I'd make things clear for him.'

'He's been after your mum? What does your dad say?' Kathy gasped in surprise.

'She's a war widow.'

'Oh ... sorry ...' Kathy mulled over what he'd told her. 'Did he hit your mum?'

'Yeah ...'

Kathy gave a sorrowful shake of the head. 'He hits Ruby. He hurt her badly once; I arrived when he was going at it hammer and tongs. He's a brute so deserved a thump off you.'

'That's what I thought.' He gave her a sideways smile. 'So, can I call you Kathy?'

'Oh, all right ...' Her amus.e.m.e.nt quickly faded. 'I wonder if Ruby knows about her husband chasing after women.'

'I reckon she does,' Nick said. 'If she's got any sense she'll encourage him to go off with one of them.'

'Have you come across Charlie Potter since that night?' Kathy asked, keen to probe for a bit more information.

'Nope.' Nick's mouth turned down in a humourless smile. He knew he'd not heard the last from Charlie. The man would be brooding on the run-in they'd had over Lottie and would be biding his time for a gloves-off rematch to save face. But Potter had since left Lottie alone and that was all Nick cared about.

He reckoned at the moment Charlie probably had other things on his mind like tracking down a randy Chinaman so he could give him a kicking. Nick didn't think he'd have much luck there: Kathy was probably right and the bloke had come in on a boat and had now sailed off into the sunset.

'Did you get your bike back?' Nick asked.

'No sign of it anywhere,' Kathy answered glumly. 'Dr Worth or Eunice give me a lift in their car if it's an emergency, otherwise I have to walk or catch the bus to do my rounds.'

'The doctor's too tight to buy you a replacement?' Nick sounded incredulous.

'Well, it was my fault it went missing.' Kathy stuck up for her boss although privately she thought he was being mean over it. She had offered to contribute half towards the cost of a replacement bike and pay it off a little bit each week. But she knew Sidney Worth was waiting to pick up one for a song, second-hand. Unfortunately, so were a lot of other people who couldn't afford a car and needed to get about. A good used bike for sale was as rare as hen's teeth.

'I'll keep a look out for one for you, if you like.'

'Would you? Thanks,' Kathy said brightly. She had a feeling he meant it too, and was not just making conversation. 'Second-hand,' she warned, 'and if it's got a carrying rack on it, so much the better. Course, a pump, a bell and good tyres are essential ...'

'Any other requirements, Miss Finch?' Nick asked mockingly. 'Sounds like you really need a new one.'

'Sorry!' Kathy was mortified that she'd sounded demanding. She noticed a quirk at a corner of his mouth and blushed.

'I'll keep me eyes peeled ... and be in touch.' Nick promised.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Blanche Raven sidled up to the cafe window and glanced in through misty gla.s.s. She smirked at the satisfying sight of her rival being run ragged. Joyce Groves was whipping to and fro with steaming dinner plates, banging them down in front of people before disappearing in the kitchen. Moments later, she'd return to scurry about serving more meals. Despite her spiteful smile Blanche was seething mad and she was here to make sure the woman messing about with her husband got to hear all about it.

Nick had dated women before but Blanche had never known who they were because those girlfriends had lived further afield. But Joyce had been making sure everybody knew about Nick's involvement with her. Blanche recognised her game: she was after getting an engagement ring on her finger so she could pack in her job as a skivvy to prepare for the big day. Blanche was determined to be the one jacking in her job and having the life of Riley on Nick's money.

A few weeks back she'd cornered Joyce in Petticoat Lane and had warned her to back off. Joyce had taken no notice, laughing in her face. She might not have acted so brash if she'd been on her own. But the cow had had her brother, Kenny, and a few friends surrounding her in the market. Today her rival was on her own and Blanche was determined to wipe the smile off Joyce's face, with her fist if necessary. Nick Raven was hers; they were married, and that's how it was going to stay.

The proprietor of the cafe was counting out some money from the till and Blanche watched Les Drake hand it to Joyce, who'd come out of the back room in her coat. It seemed her s.h.i.+ft was finished at last. Blanche was glad. It was b.l.o.o.d.y freezing weather for May and she'd already been hanging around outside for half an hour waiting for the trollop to show her face. She trotted off to hide up an alley that led to the back entrances to the parade of shops, her mouth slanting maliciously. Joyce would try to dart back inside the cafe if she cottoned on to an ambush.

'Now I've warned you once but you ain't taken no notice, have you?' Blanche barged into view, hands on hips.

Startled, Joyce whipped about. 'Oh, p.i.s.s off,' she spat at Blanche. She'd got a stinking headache and her toes were throbbing in her court shoes because she'd been on her feet since six thirty that morning when Les opened up. It was now gone three o'clock in the afternoon and she hated doing long s.h.i.+fts with just a half-hour break for her dinner. The customers were mainly randy navvies who touched her up and had the table manners of pigs. They sc.r.a.ped together the cost of the dinner, moaning at Les about the price, then went off and never left a tip for her to boost her miserable wages.

'I'll give you "p.i.s.s off", you b.i.t.c.h.' The lazy disdain in the younger woman's face was enraging Blanche.

Joyce sensed her opponent about to lunge at her but was too tired to s.h.i.+ft out of the way quickly enough to prevent Blanche grabbing a handful of her long fair hair.