Read The Bells of Bow Online

Authors: Gilda O'Neill

Tags: #Chick-Lit, #Family Saga, #Fiction, #Love Stories, #Relationships, #Romance, #Women's Fiction

The Bells of Bow (3 page)

‘Sorry, Nan.’ Knowing he was unlikely to get the better of his grandmother, Micky gave in without another word.

‘I don’t know,’ Alice tutted and, shaking her head, pushed Micky away from her in the direction of number four, the Simpkins’s house which was across the street next to the baker’s. ‘Honestly, the way the world is nowadays. It wasn’t like this when I was a girl, I’m telling yer. We had a bit of respect for our elders and betters.
And
, when I was thirteen, ‘I didn’t have a chest on me like that Mary Simpkins has got on her. Disgusting, I call it, bosoms all over the place.’

Micky tried to muster a little dignity as he crossed the street, but he couldn’t resist looking back over his shoulder at his grandad. Micky and Nobby bravely chanced rolling their eyes at one another, and then Micky really took his life in his hands by flashing a crafty wink and a wave at the twins as they turned out of Darnfield Street and into Grove Road.

‘I can see yer, Micky,’ the twins heard Alice bark at her grandson. ‘I won’t let this drop, yer know. I’ll be telling yer mother on yer, you just see if I don’t.’

‘Poor kid,’ Evie said with a chuckle as they headed towards the Mile End Road. ‘Fancy having yer nan showing you up like that.’

‘It’s your fault, Evie. Yer should know better. Yer shouldn’t encourage him.’

‘What, me encourage young Micky?’ Evie grinned to herself.

‘Yes,’ replied Babs flatly. ‘You. You should leave him alone. He’s a good little kid, despite his nan.’

‘Yeah, he’s all right. So might as well let him dream, eh? Dreaming never hurt no one.’

‘No? Well, how about young Mary? It might hurt her all right.’

‘What yer on about?’

‘Mary Simpkins. She’s another good kid, and yer know she’s keen on Micky. But how can she hope to compete with you, the bloody blonde bombshell, flirting with her sweetheart?’

‘Blimey, Babs, it was just a bit of fun. Why’d yer always have to take things so seriously?’

‘And why do
you
always have to think everything’s just one big lark?’

Evie pouted at her sister’s reprimand. ‘I don’t.’

‘Aw, come on, Evie, don’t get a gob on yer.’ Babs affectionately linked her arm through her sister’s. ‘We’ve wasted enough time without you showing off. All the blokes’ll have gone in as it is. And I bet we’ve missed the first film. And if we don’t get a move on, we won’t even get a seat, let alone see the main feature.’

As they dodged across Grove Road through the sparse Saturday evening traffic, Evie tossed back her hair as it tumbled from beneath her little brown felt hat, making it bounce around the wide shoulders of her matching linen swagger jacket. ‘It looks all right, don’t it, Babs,’ she stated more than asked. ‘Really suits me.’

‘They seem to think so,’ her sister answered, nodding back across to the other side of the road.

‘Who? Who yer talking about?’

‘Them two blokes over there.’

Evie turned and looked over to where Babs was now pointing discreetly, towards the high brick arch that carried the railway line over Grove Road. Two young men, nattily turned out in dark grey suits, white shirts and nifty black trilby hats, were waving at them.

‘Don’t do that, Eve. Don’t wave back,’ Babs hissed, horrified by her twin’s uninhibited reaction. ‘Yer do know who that tall one is, don’t yer?’

The taller of the two men took out a cigarette case from his inside pocket and offered it to his companion, all the while keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the twins.

‘Course I do,’ Evie answered her sister, but she was concentrating her smile on the one with the cigarette case. ‘It’s that Albie Denham. Come on.’

‘Evie!’ protested Babs. ‘Don’t be so stupid. We don’t wanna get hiked up with the likes of him. And just look at his mate. From the size of them shoulders, he should be in a cage. Built like a bloody gorilla, he is.’

‘Suit yerself,’ said Eve with a shrug. ‘If yer don’t wanna come, I’ll catch up with yer later.’

Reluctantly, Babs, as they both knew she would, followed her twin back across the road.

‘Hello, girls,’ said Albie casually. He drew hard on his cigarette and slowly released a cloud of blue-grey smoke into the still warm evening air. ‘Me and Chas here was just going off to maybe have a bit of a dance.’

Evie swung her shoulders from side to side and stared up at him. ‘Aw yeah?’ she said. ‘Hear that, Babs? The boys here’re going dancing.’

Babs took a deep breath and said quietly but very deliberately through her teeth, ‘We’ll miss the film, Eve.’

Evie either didn’t hear her sister or else she chose to ignore her. ‘Dancing, eh?’

‘That’s right,’ Albie said, grinding out the barely smoked cigarette under the heel of his highly polished black shoe. ‘So. D’yer fancy it, then?’

‘Fancy what?’ asked Eve, all wide-eyed innocence.

‘Dancing, of course,’ he said, and grinned at his mate. ‘Or did yer have something else in mind?’

‘Yer out o’ luck, I’m afraid,’ Evie sighed with a sad little smile. ‘Yer see, me and me sister here are going to the Troxy. We love going to the pictures, don’t we, Babs?’

‘Yeah,’ Babs readily agreed. ‘We do. We love it. That’s why we’re going tonight.’

‘See?’ Evie’s voice was full of mock remorse. ‘Can’t be helped, but I’m sorry, no. Anyway, I don’t think some crummy little dance’d interest us, do you, Babs?’ She turned to face her sister and they both giggled.

‘No, I don’t think some crummy little dance’d interest us at all. Thanks all the same.’ Babs lifted her chin and smiled triumphantly at Albie Denham. ‘Seems like yer gonna have to dance with yer mate. Shame, innit?’

‘Yer right, that really is a shame, ain’t it, Chas?’ Albie turned to his friend and tutted with disappointment, his arms held wide to show his deep regret. ‘Yer see, me and Chas wasn’t planning to go to no bug house, was we? We was going up West to a little supper club. Have a dance, a nice little bit to eat. Something a bit fancy. Aw, yeah, and we’re going in the Riley. Ain’t that right, Chas?’

‘Yeah,’ answered Chas in a gruff, toneless voice. ‘In the Riley.’

‘Riley, eh?’ Evie said slowly, then flashed a sly look at Babs who, in silent reply, raised her eyebrows just enough to show that she had cottoned on to her sister’s meaning.

‘Yeah, it’s a Riley Kestrel, if yer must know.’ Chas said it proudly as though the vehicle belonged to him.

‘That’s a motor car, ain’t it?’ Evie asked carelessly.

‘Certainly is, darling.’ Albie curled his fingers over and studied his nails. ‘Parked just round the corner in Cordova Road, as a matter o’ fact. Not twenty-five yards from this very spot.’

‘What yer doing round here then?’ Babs asked with her most charming, dimpled smile; the idea of a ride in a motor car suddenly made Albie and his goon of a mate seem worth at least a little bit of effort.

‘Apart from looking for pretty gels like you two, yer mean?’ Albie said with a wink. ‘Me and Chas here have been making calls on one or two of me mum’s customers, some people what had a few debts to settle.’ Albie reached into his trousers pocket and produced a fat roll of money. ‘So I got plenty of loose change for a night out.’

Without another word, Evie let Albie put his arm round her shoulders and guide her towards where the car was parked. Babs walked behind them, with Albie’s dim mate, Chas, at her side.

‘Been in a motor before, sweetheart?’ Chas asked Babs.

‘Once or twice,’ lied Babs.

‘I’m Chas,’ he said as they turned off Grove Road into Cordova Road.

‘I know,’ said Babs, with a disbelieving roll of her eyes. ‘So Albie said. Several times.’

When they reached the gleaming black motor, Albie opened the front passenger door and gestured for Evie to climb into the expensive smelling interior. ‘There y’are, Evie,’ he said. ‘In yer get, gel.’

‘Yer know me name,’ Evie said, sounding impressed, despite promising herself to appear nonchalant even if she felt far from it.

‘Course I know yer name.’

‘How?’

‘Well, I’d hardly
not
know the names of two lookers like the Bell twins, now would I?’

Just as Babs had done earlier, Evie treated Albie to the full dimple treatment. ‘Yer very kind,’ she beamed up at him. ‘A right gentleman, but, if yer don’t mind, I’ll sit in the back with Babs.’

Albie smiled down at her as he pulled open the back door. ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart.’

Evie sat down on the soft, leather-covered seat and swung her legs in after her as though to the manner born. Nobody could have guessed as much, but it was a manoeuvre that she had never actually done before; she was just copying the way the film stars did it on the newsreels.

Babs looked questioningly at her sister as she settled down beside her. ‘Why ain’t yer going in the front?’

‘Don’t wanna spoil him too soon, now do I?’ Evie said.

By the time Albie drew the Riley to a halt outside the canopied doorway of the supper club, the twins were in such a state of excitement that they were finding it increasingly hard to disguise their feelings: not only was it the first time that they had ever been to a West End club but, regardless of what Babs had claimed earlier, it was the first time that either of them had been in a car, let alone in one as flash as a Riley Kestrel.

As Albie engaged the handbrake, Evie grasped Babs’s hand and whispered, ‘Don’t let on we’ve never done none of this before, right?’

‘I ain’t silly,’ Babs answered her, although in fact hardly able to contain herself. ‘I ain’t gonna muck up a chance like this to enjoy meself, now am I?’

‘Bit better than the Troxy, eh, Babs?’ Eve said to her sister out of the side of her mouth as Albie reached down to help her from the car.

‘You ain’t kidding,’ Babs whispered back as she held out her hand to Chas and stepped out of the other side of the car.

‘Mr Denham, good to see you again, sir.’ The grey-haired, scarlet-liveried doorman saluted with military sharpness in response to Albie handing him half a crown. As far as the astonished twins could see, he had given it to the man just for standing there. ‘Straight through, sir,’ the man added smartly. ‘Enjoy your evening.’

The man set the brass and mahogany framed revolving door into motion and waved Albie and his party through into a lobby which led to a subtly lit room humming with the buzz of discreet conversation. A band on a little stage at the far end of the room played the latest swing tunes. The moment the twins’ eyes became accustomed to the subdued lighting, they instinctively turned to one another.

‘Blimey,’ gasped Babs, unable to stop herself gawping. ‘Will yer look at this, Eve.’

‘Smart, eh?’ Albie said with a smug grin which immediately put Babs back on her guard.

‘Very nice,’ answered Evie, hoping she sounded more relaxed than she felt.

‘Glad yer like it,’ Albie stated just as nonchalantly.

Babs opened and closed her mouth, frantically trying – and failing – to think of some sophisticated or witty remark. To her relief Albie was distracted by a black-suited waiter appearing at their side. Albie took the wad of money he had flaunted at the girls earlier and, with ostentatious slowness, peeled off one of the notes. ‘Make sure yer look after us,’ he said without looking at the man. ‘I want me guests to enjoy ’emselves.’

The waiter took the money, inclined his head and snapped his fingers at an unseen colleague.

‘Here we go, gels,’ Albie announced and moved through the crowded room towards the table from which another waiter was removing a disgruntled looking party of six.

The waiter whispered to the man who was objecting the most strongly and pointed to Albie. The man swallowed hard and, after a momentary pause, appeared happy to allow his party to be relocated to another table stuck in a corner by the kitchen, much further away from the little stage where the band was performing.

‘Right,’ said Albie, seemingly oblivious of the previous occupant of the plush and gilt chair in which he was settling himself. ‘Drinks.’

‘Gin and orange for us, right, Babs?’ suggested Evie, flashing a signal with her eyes for her sister to agree with her.

‘Lovely,’ Babs responded. She’d have preferred a port and lemon but her sister’s message about what she thought they should order was clear.

‘Pint for me,’ growled Chas.

The waiter shook his head apologetically. ‘Sorry, sir. The club doesn’t serve beer.’

‘Two Scotches,’ snapped Albie with a glare at Chas. ‘And no water.’

After they had rapidly downed the first round of drinks – the girls from nerves and the men from habit – and had a second lot set up before them, Albie stood up. ‘Dance,’ he commanded rather than asked.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Evie replied as though she had a choice in the matter, and pushing back her chair she held out her hand for him to lead her onto the floor.

‘You?’ asked Chas less confidently after his mistake about the beer.

‘If yer like,’ Babs answered him warily. Like her sister, she loved music and dancing, but she had already compared the size of Chas’s enormous feet with her own petite size fours and was not a little concerned for their safety. But, as the band began playing, she soon forgot her worries, drawn in by the rhythm of the samba, she was delighted, not to mention amazed, when Chas turned out to be surprisingly light on his huge feet.

As the couples danced past one another, Babs leant close to Evie. ‘Look at them frocks, Eve, even better than the ones we do at work.’

‘Gorgeous,’ Evie mouthed back at her as Albie whirled her past. She closed her eyes blissfully, letting the music wash over her and, just as she did at home when she listened to the wireless, she began singing along with the band.

‘D’yer mean that?’ Albie asked.

‘What?’ Evie murmured.

‘That I’m the one?’

Evie’s eyes flicked open and she looked up at him with a grin. ‘I was singing along with the band, yer great daft hap’orth. It’s “Night and Day”, innit? It’s just a. song. Don’t mean nothing.’

‘Don’t it?’ Albie inclined his head then gave a slow, proprietorial nod. ‘Well, ne’mind, but I’m telling yer, yer’ve got quite a voice.’

‘I know I have,’ she said, her grin becoming even saucier. ‘And so’s our Babs. We’re a pair of very gifted girls. Everyone says so.’

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