Читать книгу The Campbell Road Girls - Kay Brellend - Страница 10

‘I’ve had enough, I tell you! I won’t never have a chance to get near her ladyship’s jewels now this new girl’s got taken on. Fucking Lucy Keiver is watching me like an ’awk.’ Ada Stone flung herself back against brickwork and took a long drag on a cigarette while staring sulkily into the night. ‘Shame Susan quit. She were a pushover, that one. But it ain’t easy now slipping in and out of the bedrooms.’

Ada was stationed in an alleyway beneath the weak flicker of a gas lamp. A few feet away a tall, muscular man was silhouetted against the same wall. A fashionable homburg was pushed back on his head and he was dressed in a loose-fitting check suit. The dusk hid the fact that the cloth was garish, if of fine quality. Next to him, Ada appeared like a small dark drab in her voluminous servant’s cape.

It was close to one o’clock in the morning and Ada had slipped out of Mortimer House just over an hour ago to meet Bill Black on the sly. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it. She knew that there were only so many times she could use a pretence of having raging bellyache and desperately needing the outside privy, rather than settling for the little po under the bed, before her bunk mates started getting suspicious. She wouldn’t put it past Keiver to follow her, the inquisitive bitch.

But Ada Stone – or Audrey Stubbs, as her colleagues and employers at Mortimer House knew her – no longer cared about getting sacked. In fact she’d been tempted to be purposely insolent just so the prissy housekeeper might finally lose patience with her. The only reason she hadn’t was because she feared the full force of this man’s wrath if she got booted out of Mortimer House before she’d got him what he wanted. She longed to be away from the drudgery of working in service and back to excitement and easy pickings: hoisting expensive clothes around the West End with her light-fingered friends.

Ada was twenty and had been sent to work in service in Kent at the age of fourteen. But she’d got bored and left after a year, travelling here and there taking on jobs in shops or laundries. On returning to south London, she had been introduced to Bill by her brother, who ran a market stall. She’d jumped at the chance of working for him, and had been recruited to his gang despite her age. That suited Bill Black. He could always find a use for a fresh face unknown to store detectives and the local coppers and magistrates. And Ada had proved her worth from the off.

Bill was prepared to turn his hand to any form of criminal activity. He came from the same area of Elephant and Castle as Ada Stone and her family and was five years older than she was. Her brother Derek was a seasoned member of his team and was presently doing six months’ hard labour following a heist that had gone sour. The driver of the lorry he and his accomplices had hijacked had done a very silly thing. Instead of playing dead after a crack on the head he’d fought back and got stabbed for his pains. Derek hadn’t wielded the blade but it was more than his life was worth to say who had, so he’d been resigned to doing time along with the culprit while the unlucky hero recovered in hospital.

‘I’m handing in me notice, Bill, so don’t go trying to persuade me otherwise.’ Ada flicked ash with jittery fingers, avoiding his inscrutable gaze. ‘It’s been a bleedin’ waste of time ’n’ I told you it would be from the start. But you wouldn’t listen to me, would yer?’

A tense minute passed in silence and Ada realised Bill had no intention of answering her. ‘Nearly a soddin’ month I been stuck in that house and what we got? Nuthin’.’ Again she turned to him for a response but he kept staring ahead and smoking. She knew he was ignoring her on purpose, as a punishment, because he didn’t like what he was hearing.

‘Tell you what, I’ll lift a few bits of silver to make it worthwhile, eh, Bill?’ Ada hissed a reconciliatory offer into the dark. ‘Old Collins, the butler, ain’t doing the inventory till the end of the month. He won’t even notice it’s missing till then and I could be long gone ...’ She tailed off, squinting through the gloom at Bill’s immobile profile.

Finally, she sighed, realising he was not going to be swayed by any of her suggestions. ‘Should never have gone in the poxy place,’ she said peevishly. ‘Could’ve made a good few quid fer meself by now round the West End instead of being stuck workin’ me fingers to the bone as a bleedin’ skivvy.’

His withdrawal was beginning to unnerve her. She dragged desperately on her cigarette while pacing to and fro. Tears of frustration started prickling her eyes; she’d be going back; he’d make her. He wouldn’t let her give up until he’d got what he wanted. She might be there till Christmas before the safe was opened and out came the jewellery box for her to rummage in. Ada reckoned she could handle Mrs Boyd, no trouble. It wouldn’t occur to that stuffy old cow that a little nobody would dare rob her precious employers.

Ada had overheard Venner and Boyd talking about her just that afternoon. They’d called her flighty, and thought she might encourage too many followers – as they named the housemaids’ boyfriends. Ada had stuffed a fist to her mouth to stifle her raucous guffaw on hearing that. She’d not wanted to give the game away that she was eavesdropping on them. Ada liked the boys right enough, a lot more than those two dried-up old biddies could ever imagine, but that wasn’t the half of it. If they only knew what she was really about they’d both have a blue fit!

Keiver was a different kettle of fish. Ada had immediately got her measure, just as Lucy Keiver had recognised her sort straight away. Ever since their tussle they’d been circling each other, waiting for the inevitable to happen. And it would; and despite Ada believing she was a bit of a rough handful, she wasn’t completely confident she’d come off best in a bust-up with the under-lady’s maid.

‘Listen, Bill, I’m gonna get sacked soon anyhow if I don’t jack it in.’ Ada sounded coarse and angry. ‘I’m just about riled up enough to give someone a thump.’ She dropped her cigarette butt to the ground, stamped on it, and immediately put out a hand for another.

Bill fished a packet of Weights out of his pocket and having lit one he took it from his lips and gave it to her.

‘Come on now ...’ He finally broke his silence and soothed her with a touch of his manicured fingers on her mousy hair. ‘Don’t go gettin’ all het up. You did just dandy in that other place, didn’t you?’ His hand continued stroking. ‘Got the stuff out sweet as a nut and nobody knew who you was and no comebacks, ’cos you acted like a real pro, didn’t you, Annie Smith.’ Playfully he chucked her under the chin as he used Ada’s previous alias. ‘This time, Miss Audrey Stubbs, you’re gonna be even better at doing me a good job—’

‘That other time were different,’ Ada interrupted. But she preened beneath his praise and his touch. ‘That silly tart was always out of her mind on drugs ’n’ booze. Could’ve walked out of that gaff with a fuckin’ crystal chandelier under me arm and she wouldn’t have noticed.’

Bill chuckled. ‘P’raps you should try a different angle.’ He cocked his head and looked down at her. ‘How about you pretend you want to be this new gel’s pal? Instead of goin’ at it hammer ’n’ tongs, Ada, you could be a bit subtle. Then this Lucy might think you’re hangin’ around her ladyship’s bedroom to be friends with her instead of clocking when the jewellery box gets an airing.’

‘She ain’t that stupid! She knows I hate her and she don’t like me neither. She’s too cute by half.’

‘Well, you’re gonna have to be that bit cuter then, ain’t you, Ada?’ Bill returned with sinister softness.

Ada darted a narrowed glance at him. She knew he could switch from friend to enemy in seconds. She’d been caressed and clumped by him in her time, and from bitter experience knew that sometimes just seconds separated the two.

Although they’d only been talking for fifteen minutes or so Ada knew he was already impatient to be gone back to the gin palace on the corner. She, on the other hand, would stay with him all night, given half a chance. She needed to get out of that house, not just because she was bored rigid, missing her shoplifting jaunts and the luxuries they brought in, but because she was a woman with basic needs. And neither of those needs was being met in Mortimer House. Every night she was desperate for a stiff drink, and a horny man.

‘Got a flask with you, Bill?’ she asked.

Bill produced a pewter bottle from a pocket and courteously unscrewed the top for her. After she’d taken a long swig he helped himself before the flask disappeared whence it came.

‘Let’s have another,’ Ada complained immediately, having noticed the whisky disappear.

‘Don’t want to go back stinkin’ of booze, do you, gel? Give the game away, that will. I reckon it’s time you was on yer way. It’s getting late.’ He made a show of checking his wristwatch beneath the milky lamplight.

Ada huffed sulkily, eyeing his crotch from beneath lowered lashes. ‘Got anything else for me before I go?’ she whispered crudely. She felt no humiliation in having to ask for what she wanted.

She knew that if Betty Pickering, one of her girl gang comrades, hadn’t last week been taken into custody on a charge of shoplifting sables from Selfridges, Bill would doubtless have been with her tonight. Ada was resigned to being second best while Betty was available. But at present Ada had Bill more or less to herself. If Betty got a stretch inside – and Ada privately hoped she would – then Bill might start treating her as his number-one girl. Of course, Ada knew he had different little scrubbers he saw on and off but they didn’t bother her; neither had they seemed to bother Betty too much. Bill was a big attractive hunk of a man who always seemed to have plenty of cash to flash around because he was a successful criminal with a crafty streak. So far, he’d avoided imprisonment, unlike many of the Elephant and Castle boys, by managing to implicate others and fabricate watertight alibis.

‘Come on, get goin’, Ada.’ Bill sounded harsh and impatient, apparently deaf to her suggestiveness. ‘Ain’t took all the trouble to get yer set up with false references to come out wi’ nuthin’ ’cos you’ve blown yer cover.’

‘Don’t have ter come out with nuthin’. I can get us some silver, like I said, and—’

‘I’ve told you that silver ain’t what I’m after,’ Bill snarled. ‘I’m after first prize, not consolation prize.’ He made an effort to calm down and smiled at her. ‘I can get any of Betty’s crew to lift me some nice shiny silver out of Gamages. But none o’ the others has got the class to fetch me out a special bit of jewellery. That’s your speciality, sweet’eart.’

He prowled away a few steps, his dark head down so she had no glimpse of his expression and had no idea what he was thinking. A moment later he’d whipped back in front of her. ‘It’s emeralds me client’s after, see. He’s a rich gent, upper crust, and his little ladybird’s got a yen for a big green stone, and she’s seen the one she wants round her ladyship’s neck. Giving him gyp, she is, over having it. Now I’m getting gyp off him ’cos I’ve said I’ve got a sure way of nabbing it for him. Boasted to him I’ve got the best hoister in the whole of London on to it. Now you don’t want to make me look like I’m a chancer, Ada, do you? Can’t have that, can I?’ Bill tilted his face close to hers.

‘What if her ladyship ain’t got that big green stone in her box in the safe? If it’s good as that it might be held in the bank vault. I heard Mrs Boyd saying some of her heirlooms are kept there.’

‘According to my source she had it on recently so I reckon it’s still at the house. Any case, we ain’t gonna know, are we, ’less you get to work and take a gander.’

‘I dunno ...’ Ada whined.

‘Never mind dunno,’ Bill growled. ‘You just get the bleedin’ necklace and we’ll be in the money.’ He stuffed his hands impatiently in his pockets. He regretted having said so much. Ada was his workhorse, not his partner or confidante. This was a delicate situation and involved people in high places. He would have thought twice before disclosing to Betty what was going on. He put his lips against Ada’s cheek, taking her pointed chin in a stinging grip that made her squirm. ‘You goin’ against me?’

Ada carefully shook her head.

‘Good gel. Course you ain’t. I know you could bring a fuckin’ crystal chandelier out that house with you if you really put yer mind to it, Ada.’ Suddenly he laughed and swooped his lips to hers. He kissed her hard on the mouth, grabbing a breast through the cloth of her heavy cloak.

Immediately Ada dropped her newly lit cigarette to the ground and wound her arms about his shoulders, plunging her tongue greedily into his open mouth. Her pelvis ground against his groin, and a hand began frantically stroking his erection beneath wool.

Bill laughed, mingling their alcoholic breath before lifting his head. ‘You’re a right dirty gel, know that, Ada?’ His words were coarse, with no hint of affection. But Bill didn’t really believe Ada expected any wooing, neither did he care if she did. She might once have had an ambition to be a proper girlfriend to him, but he reckoned by now she’d got the message that Betty was his favourite.

But Ada was passably attractive and had a reasonable figure on her so no red-blooded fellow was going to turn down what she willingly offered, even if he knew it might have been given elsewhere ten minutes previously. It was no secret in their neighbourhood that Ada Stone behaved like a regular nymphomaniac.

‘Begging fer a seeing-to right here, are you, Ada?’ Bill goaded her, squeezing harder at her nipple. He waited for her to nod, as she always did, before barking contemptuously, ‘Get yer drawers off then, dirty gel.’

Ada nipped Bill’s lower lip with teasing teeth as a little thank you. ‘’S’another reason I got to get out o’ that bleedin’ house, Bill,’ she moaned breathlessly, whilst kicking away her underwear and drawing up her nightdress beneath her cloak. She fell back against brickwork, getting into position for him to hoist her up against the wall as he had on other occasions when they’d met on her afternoon off and he’d needed to coax her to obedience. ‘Need yer, don’t I, Bill? Want this all the time. Been ages since we done it ...’

‘Been a week,’ he grunted, lifting her and shoving her back then up and down till he’d managed brutally to impale her.

The rough treatment didn’t worry Ada; she had a constant itch between her legs and any man’s attention to it was encouraged and gratefully received.

Bill Black heard her sigh of utter relief, felt her impatient bucking, and he chuckled. ‘Don’t tell me there’s not a bloke in a house as big that can’t keep you going till yer day off.’

‘I reckon they’re all bleedin’ eunuchs in that place,’ she gasped, bouncing against him, clawing at his back. ‘All too scared of their shadows to act like real men. Nobody there like you, Bill ... wish there was,’ she moaned. ‘Might stay for ever then ...’ Her panted words tailed away into a guttural mewing sound.

‘How about one o’ them starched-up women then, if yer real desperate?’ Bill whispered, then realised he liked the idea of that and the fantasy prompted him to drive into her with such force that she started to shriek and gyrate.

Bill clapped his hand over her mouth and took a startled look about. ‘Fuckin’ shut up, will yer?’ he growled. ‘You’ll bring a crowd down on us.’

Ada felt exhausted and hungry on returning to the house; Bill hadn’t even offered to walk back with her so she’d flitted through the dark, deserted streets as fast as she could, her cloak wrapped tight about her. Being a criminal herself she knew a lone woman out at night was easy pickings and she hadn’t fancied a crack on the head from a mugger.

Having gratefully reached her destination she slipped in through the side door and tiptoed along the corridor towards the kitchens, hoping there might be a few easily found titbits lying around. Though she doubted anybody would be about at two o’clock in the morning, nevertheless she took pains to proceed quietly. As she was passing Mrs Venner’s office she heard a sound and started to attention. She frowned in disbelief; she’d believed even that conscientious old biddy would have taken to her bed by now. Ada froze against the wall her heart thumping loudly in her ears. She knew if somebody senior caught her up and about at this hour, with a reek of alcohol and tobacco about her, awkward questions would be asked. It was obvious from the way she was dressed that she’d been out, and she’d just faithfully promised Bill that she’d get the necklace, not the sack ...

Having strained to listen, and caught low whispering coming from behind the door, Ada’s curiosity overcame her caution and she noiselessly turned the handle. It was locked, but on glancing down she saw a faint light leaking from beneath it. A whimpering little sigh was heard next and it increased her suspicions. She crouched to put her eye to the keyhole. A few moments later she’d stuffed a muffling fist to her mouth and had tumbled backwards onto her posterior in scandalised shock. Her jaw sagged towards her chest, then she silently scrambled up, her features now set in a soundless laugh. She scratched against the door with a fingernail then flattened herself against the wall. She was aware of the quiet within, then a moment later she heard the key turn in the lock and knew one of them would come out to investigate. Before the door was properly open Ada had burst in to confront the two women.

Felicity Venner recovered composure first. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, Stubbs? How dare you burst in like this? Why aren’t you in your dormitory? What have you been doing?’ she breathlessly demanded.

‘Not quite what you’ve been doing with Mrs Boyd, that’s fer sure,’ Ada whispered, her face alight with lewd amusement. She backed against the door until it clicked quietly shut while putting a warning finger to her mouth. ‘My preference is for boys. But I’ll admit I’ve been enjoying meself tonight, like you two. My “follower” I reckon you’d call Bill. Big lusty chap, he is, but course you wouldn’t be interested in knowing about any o’ that ...’

By the light of the small oil lamp it could be seen that Clare Boyd’s face was crimson, and where she’d hastily done up her bodice most of the little pearl buttons were in the wrong hooks. At forty-two, she was only three years younger than her lover but she could have passed for her junior by a decade. Her skin was smoother and her character less robust at times of need. She darted a glance at Felicity Venner, moistening her lips, pleading with the older woman to keep up the bluster and find a plausible way to extricate them both from this awful mess.

‘Don’t bother denying what you’ve been up to,’ Ada muttered, intercepting Clare’s frantic look. ‘I seen you at it through the keyhole, and if I give a yell and bring ’em all running you’re gonna have some explaining to do, ain’t you?’ She nodded at Clare’s flushed face. ‘Now what would she be doing here at this time o’ night, and with her blouse all skewwhiff?’ She glanced at Felicity, then at the floor. ‘Them your drawers or hers?’ she asked, having spotted the discarded linen. Before the housekeeper could retrieve her undergarments Ada stamped a foot on them, and drew them out of reach. ‘Never mind ... ain’t the end of the world, you know, getting caught out like this, ’cos I’ve had an idea ...’

Still in a half-doze, Lucy heard Audrey return from her jaunt but didn’t bother rolling over to confront her roommate about her absence. She’d guessed what Audrey had been getting up to when she went off at night, and sleepily wondered if Jack from the garden had after all succumbed to having a roll in the hay. When a moment later Audrey’s mattress creaked and Lucy heard a ribald giggle being smothered by bedcovers she knew that whoever Audrey had been with, he’d shown her a good time.