Dream On (49 page)

‘I know he's your husband, Miss Martin, but . . .' She staggered to her feet and pulled open her blouse.

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth. The girl's chest was criss-crossed with bloody knife slashes.

Ginny left the girl sobbing in the booth, while she instructed Flora to telephone a doctor she knew who had gambling debts with her big enough to ensure that he would do her a favour and keep his mouth shut. Then she took Johnno, the minder she trusted most of all – even unsupervised with the takings – upstairs with her and told Ted to get out.

Ted didn't need to be told twice, not with Johnno there. But he was determined to be as spiteful and awkward as he could get away with. ‘Susan,' he shouted. ‘Get up. We're leaving.'

Ginny shook her head. ‘You bastard.'

The door to the spare room opened and Susan came out, wearing one of the nighties that Ginny had bought her. She was hollow-eyed with sleep and fear. ‘I don't wanna go,' she whispered, her bottom lip trembling with the effort of holding back her tears.

‘You're not going anywhere, dolly face. Come on, come and give us a cuddle, you'll be all right with your Auntie Gin. Daddy's the one who's gotta go away for a little while. He's just going downstairs with Johnno, aren't you, Ted? So go and give him a kiss and he can get off.'

Susan kissed Ted's unshaven cheek, then fled back to Ginny's side. She watched warily as Johnno and her dad left the flat.

Ginny took her back to her bed and tucked her in with her teddy bear. ‘If you want me, I'll just be in the other room sorting out a couple of things. All right?'

Susan nodded.

Ginny kissed her on the cheek, turned on the squirrel-shaped night light that stood on the bedside table – another of the many things she had bought for Susan during the past weeks – and sat with her until her eyes finally closed.

Then she went back into the sitting-room, bundled up the blankets off the sofa and threw them in the kitchen ready for the laundry. At least the place didn't have to look like a refugee camp any longer, nor did it have to stink of Ted Martin.

She had no fear that he'd be back, he was too much of a coward for that, but he was such a spiteful bastard, he might just try and get Susan away from her. And she couldn't bear that. She'd have to work something out; find a way to keep her safe. She couldn't let her go again. She just couldn't.

She went over to the cocktail cabinet to pour herself a drink, but, remembering the music box rendition of ‘Secret Love', she stopped. She didn't want Susan being disturbed again, the poor little thing had been through more than enough already.

Ginny dropped wearily on to the sofa. But, exhausted as she was, she vowed she wouldn't go to sleep until she had worked out a way to keep the child she loved.

She felt as though her head was ready to split with the effort of going round and round the same useless ideas, then, quite suddenly, it came to her. Ted had let slip that Dilys had married some American soldier, whom she'd kidded about Susan not being hers. If she got in touch with her somehow – it couldn't be that difficult – Dilys would have no choice. Her name – the only name, the father being
unknown
– would be on the birth certificate. If Dilys wanted to keep up her little pretence she would have to give Ginny guardianship, or she would spill the beans so fast, Dilys wouldn't know what had hit her.

She'd done it. She'd found a way. Now Susan could stay with her for ever.

IT HAD BEEN
another long day. Ginny had originally intended to get herself into a routine of getting up to see Susan off to school, then having another couple of hours' sleep, but once she was up it seemed slatternly to go back to bed, especially with the bright spring mornings. Feeling a bit tired was nothing, compared with the happiness, love and pride she felt as she looked down at the peacefully sleeping child, barely recognisable as the pale-faced waif who had turned up at the club in the early hours of the morning over nine months before.

The morning after Johnno had thrown Ted out, Ginny had gone to Bailey Street to see Dilys's brothers, Sid and Micky, full of foreboding at what they would have to say about her suggestion that Susan should stay with her at the club. It had been quite a while since she'd seen them, but when Ted had stayed, he'd told her plenty about the women they'd married and they sounded terrifying.

But she had had no need to worry. They – or rather the wives – had seemed only too pleased that they weren't about to have a seven-year-old cuckoo forced into their cosy little nests and soon persuaded their husbands that Ginny caring for Susan would be best all round for everyone. Then Ginny had crossed the street and popped in to see Nellie. It was an odd sensation going into number 11 again after all that time, but it had to be done. She had to warn Nellie that if her son came anywhere near Ginny's club she would have the law on him.

Nellie had been her usual aggressive self, but Ginny had remained calm and just told her to remind Ted that she had enough high-ranking policemen amongst her customers to make his life very uncomfortable. And if Nellie forgot to give Ginny's message to her son, she might just find that her weekly envelope started getting forgotten as well.

She had then spoken to a solicitor – another regular at Ginny's – and had asked him about tracing Dilys.

With all that organised, and Susan enrolled in the local school, the only worry Ginny had was what she would do if Billy Saunders did eventually get rid of the clubs. She would need to find a new job and a new home, and now there were two of them it wouldn't be quite so easy.

Nor would it be easy meeting up with Billy Saunders again. She'd heard the odd word of gossip about him, but she hadn't set eyes on him in a long time. She couldn't, though, put it off any longer, she really would have to find out what he intended doing about his businesses.

She'd make a cup of tea, have a glance through the paper and get herself off to bed. Then, in the morning, after she'd got Susan off to school, she'd organise a meeting with Billy to get things settled once and for all.

She'd only intended a quick flick through the news while she drank her tea, but when she read the headline –
Ruth Ellis charged with murder
– and saw that the story had been written by Simon Parker, Ginny put her untouched tea down on the side table and read every word.

To begin with, she had been half smiling with embarrassment at her own foolishness, remembering how she had actually considered Simon as her potential saviour, but by the time she had finished any trace of amusement had vanished.

Simon was a good sort of bloke and she hoped he was doing well, but had he been the most wonderful man in the world, Ginny still wouldn't have been able to do what it seemed that Ruth Ellis had done.

Ginny studied the photograph of her in the paper. It showed a woman, not particularly exceptional, but attractive, with hair dyed as blonde as her own; and she wondered whatever had made her do it. What had made her put a man before her children? What had made her decide that that man, any man, was so important?

She folded the paper and picked up her tea. It was stone cold. How long had she been sitting there? She looked at her watch.

Ten to four?

Johnno should have been round to pick up the takings nearly an hour ago. Where the hell had he got to? It wasn't like him to let her down.

She yawned loudly. She might as well make a fresh cup of tea while she was waiting.

She had just set the water to boil when she heard the welcome sound of footsteps on the stairs. ‘Come in, Johnno,' she called from the kitchen, getting out another cup. ‘You must have heard me put the kettle—'

Her words froze on her lips and the cup fell from her hand and went spinning across the tiled floor. Standing in the kitchen doorway was Ted, looking and stinking like a meths drinker who'd just been thrown off a bench on the Embankment.

He lifted his food and stamped on the spinning cup, shattering it into a myriad pieces.

‘How did you get in?'

Ted winked and stumbled into the room. ‘Fire escape and a bit of force, darling,' he slurred. ‘You wanna get that checked. You never know who might find their way up your stairs.'

‘What d'you want?'

‘I've decided,' he said, waving his arms wildly about him. ‘If you ain't gonna give me a fair share of this gaff, then you ain't gonna have the kid. I'm taking her with me.'

‘If you go anywhere near that child,' she said, putting herself determinedly between Ted and the door, ‘I swear I'll—'

She put up her arms to protect herself, but she was too late. Ted caught her a sharp crack to the side of her face, splitting open her cheek like a gaping mouth. She screwed up her eyes in pain, but didn't utter a sound.

Don't let her wake up. Please, don't let her wake up, Ginny prayed in her head.

He pulled back his fist for a second shot, but lost his balance and staggered backwards, then, trying to steady himself, tripped forward and crashed into the table.

Ginny's mind was racing in spite of the blow. If she could get him downstairs, away from the flat, away from Susan, Johnno would be here soon.

‘Look Ted, I'm sorry. I'm being selfish, you are her father after all. And it's not fair, me keeping her all to myself. Tell you what, let's go down and discuss it over a drink.'

Unable to resist the offer of another drink, Ted followed her out of the flat and down the stairs.

The second-floor bar was in darkness. Ginny turned on the red-shaded lamp in her booth. ‘Make yourself comfortable, Ted, and I'll fetch a bottle over. Scotch all right?'

Ted's angry sneer distorted his once handsome face into a brutal mask of hatred. ‘Here's you living like Lady fucking Docker, while I'm on me uppers.'

Ginny swallowed hard, willing Johnno to hurry up. ‘I won't be a minute.'

She flicked the switch that illuminated the bar, found a bottle of whisky, then hesitated over whether to take one or two glasses. Ted was just as capable of belting her for not wanting to drink with him as for having some of the scotch that he could have drunk.

She decided on two and put them on a tray with a jug of water. If he wanted her to drink she would at least keep a clear head by watering it down. She had to keep control until Johnno arrived.

‘Here you are.'

‘What's that noise?' Ted frowned. ‘It's someone letting themselves in. You'd better not have no bloke shacked up here with you.' He made as if to stand up.

‘No, Ted, of course I haven't. I'm your wife.'

There was the sound of the door being closed.

‘Well who is it?'

‘It'll be the bloke come to do the bottling up for me.'

‘At this time of the morning?'

‘He works nights. Does a double shift.' Christ she was talking crap. She just hoped he was drunk enough not to notice. Anything to give Johnno time to get up the stairs.

‘Go and get rid of him.'

‘Okay. But you stay here.'

Ginny fled from the room, terrified that Ted would go back up to the flat.

‘Johnno,' she whispered as she ran down the pitch-dark stairs. ‘Please. Keep your voice down. Please. It's import—'

Suddenly she felt a pair of large arms grab hold of her. It was all she could do not to scream.

‘What's up?' a man's voice asked.

‘Billy?' she gasped. ‘Is that you?'

‘Yeah. What we whispering for?'

‘I didn't expect—'

‘Johnno's old woman's gone into labour and he's having to mind the other kids and—'

‘That don't matter—'

‘I left it late so's you'd be in bed. He should have phoned, but he probably—'

‘Look, Billy, please, you've gotta help me.'

Ginny stood behind Billy as he turned on the main overhead lights that lit up the whole second floor for the cleaners.

Ted shielded his eyes. ‘What the fuck are you up to, you stupid tart. Turn them lights off.'

Billy stared in disbelief. ‘Ted Martin?
Ted Martin
? One of the stupid little two-bob snakes what's been trying to have one over on me over the years?
He's
your old man? This piece of—' He turned to look at Ginny. ‘What's happened to your face?'

‘Billy? Billy Saunders?' Ted was on his feet, barrelling across the room straight for him. ‘You bastard!'

‘Billy, mind out!' Ginny yelled, pushing him sideways.

The chair that Ted had thrown at Billy's head missed him and hit Ginny instead, sending her tumbling backwards towards the stairs. She grabbed hold of the banister and fell, screaming in agony as her arm was nearly jerked from its socket.

Billy ran to help her.

‘No. I'm all right,' she gasped. ‘Just stop him getting upstairs. Please, there's a kid up there. Don't let him hurt her.'

Ted was already half-way up the stairs to the flat. Billy lunged at him at full stretch and just managed to get hold of the back of his jacket. He pulled him backwards and the pair of them fell in a heap on to the landing. By the time Ginny got to them they were up on their feet again, punching and kicking at each other like savages.

Ginny wanted to get past, to get up to Susan, but she was too scared to go near them, they were completely out of control.

Suddenly, Billy was staggering backwards holding his arm and blood was pouring down his sleeve.

‘Billy?'

‘Mind, Gin, the bastard's got a knife.'

Ted started laughing, then turned round to run up the stairs.

She wasn't sure where she got the courage from, but Ginny launched herself at Ted and started smacking him round the back of the head. ‘Keep away from her,' she sobbed. ‘Keep away.'

Ted laughed louder and turned round, shaking her like an Alsatian trying to rid itself of a troublesome terrier. ‘Piss off.'