Authors: Jane Marciano
'Good
evening,' Connie said to her pleasantly.
The man was
making grunting noises and, with a look of regret, the woman moved aside to let
him out.
'What '
ave
we here?' he said, looking Connie over with interest.
'She's just
one of my lodgers,' Mrs Withers answered him before Connie had a chance to open
her mouth. Her face was grudging as she said, 'Miss Sands is just going out it
seems, Harold
... '
' ...
Ain't
you going to introduce me to your new lodger then,
Mavis?'
Connie
tried not to laugh when she saw how annoyed the woman looked and, where there
was no immediate response from her, Connie held out her hand.
'How do you do.
My name's Constance Sands.'
His wet,
fish-like flipper grasped hers happily. 'Harold
Bates,
always pleased to meet such a pretty girl.'
Gingerly,
Connie dislodged her hand and when she saw him eyeing the top of her dress, she
decided it was time she left.
'It was
nice meeting you, but I have to go now,' she said,
smiling
at them in turn although longing to be away.
'
Mebbe
I could give you a lift?' the man asked quickly, eyes
greedy.
'Thanks,
but no. I have private transport.' It was a lie, she was going by bus and tube,
but she wasn't going anywhere with this lecherous little creature. ,
He looked
disappointed. 'But
... '
'Sorry,'
she interrupted, 'but if you've nothing better to do, Harold, why don't you
take Mrs Withers out? She hasn't been anywhere nice for days and I'm sure she'd
be glad of a change.'
Mrs Withers
bristled. Cheeky brat to suggest she had to stay indoors. Connie shrugged, but
didn't wait for a reply from either of them.
The train
was crowded and Connie was pushed and jostled about the carriage as more people
scurried in like hefty little moles desperate to tunnel even deeper
underground. She found her nose squashed against the back of a huge, burly
Negro and, since she couldn't breathe, turned around and found herself face to
face with an Indian woman whose breath smelt of curry and garlic. Connie
rotated, thinking it better to die of suffocation than nausea. She wasn't able
to move her hand to see her watch, but the last time she had looked it had been
seven o'clock. That was OK, she was meeting
Tilly
at
the club at seven-thirty, by which time
Tilly
should
be finished for the evening, to be succeeded by another girl on the rota.
The train
drew to a halt and Connie was swept out as the doors recessed into the side of
the train, but it was her stop anyway. A crowd of young boys by the ticket
barrier stared, and a few whistled. She tossed her head, wiggled her hips
deliberately, and hurried past.
As usual,
the hot dog stands and cold drink vendors standing at the corners of the
streets were doing a roaring trade and, since the weather was fine, the evening
being unusually mild, there were more people than ever to be seen. The thumping
of a piano from a beer cellar, accompanied by the stomp of feet and shrieking
voices proclaimed that a good time was being had by all. She neared a pub, and
a drunk lurching unsteadily outside the doorway winked at her,
then
fell over his feet when he tried to follow. Connie
hurried on, past throngs of people, cinema queues, and entered the Topaz Club,
with its photographs of half-naked girls and cabaret acts hung on the outside
walls and tiny foyer. The tough-looking doorman, or bouncer, recognised Connie
and gave her a friendly wink as she went in. She checked in her jacket and then
looked around. The band was swinging away as Connie became enveloped in a foggy
mist of cigarette and cigar smoke, and dazzling, multi-coloured lights that
sparkled on the dancers as they gyrated on the floor. The room was packed tight
and waiters hurried to and fro bearing plates of food and bottles. Connie
shielded her eyes from the glare of the spotlights and searched for
Tilly
, and espied her propped up against a bar, talking
animatedly to a middle-aged man.
' ... And
here she is,'
Tilly
said, indicating Connie with a
flick of her wrist to the man who stared at the approaching girl with
speculating eyes. '
Wotcher
,'
Tilly
cried, to make
herself
heard above the din.
'Hello,'
Connie returned, more to her friend than both of them, for the man was making
her feel nervous.
He was
about her height, but so thin his unfashionable suit almost hung on his
skeleton-like frame as if on a hanger. He was incredibly sexless. There was
nothing about him she found attractive. His pale black hair, what there was of
it, was scraped back off his forehead, was thinning on top, but he had
plastered down strands on his knobbly skull to make the most of his scanty
resources.
His scrawny
neck was somehow shrunken into his shoulders so that he resembled a tortoise,
and only a protruding Adam's apple stopped it from sinking any farther. He wore
thick-rimmed spectacles attached to elephantine ears; for extra support, one
lens was resting on an uncommonly large pimple. His tiny eyes were watery blue
and sparsely lashed. To add to this loveliness, his chin receded. When he
smiled, which was what he was now doing in Connie's direction, his mouth seemed
to stretch right across his face, from ear to ear, showing broken, discoloured
teeth. Hard as she tried to reassure herself that appearances could be
deceptive, Connie couldn't help feeling revolted. Shouldn't be surprised if
he's smarmy and sickly, she thought with a flash of shrewdness. Meanwhile,
Tilly
had taken charge.
'Connie,
this is Henry. Henry, meet Constance.'
There was
nothing she could do but smile and offer him her hand which Henry took gravely
in his own big paw.
'I'm
delighted to make the acquaintance of such a charming girl. I have a suspicion
that Robert and I are going to come to blows as to who will escort whom to
dinner tonight.'
The pompous
words, offered ingratiatingly, grated on her. He turned to
Tilly
with an apologetic smile and said silkily, 'Not that either of us will suffer
by comparison, I'm sure.'
Tilly
bobbed her head and smiled mechanically. Connie, who had been waiting for an
opportunity, took her by the arm.
'Will you
excuse us for a moment,' she said, and pulled the girl away, not stopping until
they had reached the ladies' room. Inside, she turned to her grimly.
'What's
happening?' she demanded.
'We're
going out with Robert and Henry.'
Tilly
turned to the
mirror and smoothed her curls complacently.
'Don't look
so proud of yourself, you can count me out of this little set-up. If Robert's
anything like Henry I definitely don't want to know.'
'Why not?
Connie, don't be so fussy.'
'Why
shouldn't I be? At least we could find two a little nearer our ages, or at
least a little more attractive.'
Tilly
tapped her foot impatiently. 'Look,' she lowered her voice as some women
entered. 'Exactly '
ow
much money you got on you?'
Connie
looked surprised.
'Not much, why?'
'Because I
chose these blokes '
cos
they're real suckers, kid,
and won't give us
no
trouble, and they're dead keen
besides. So if you want a real slap-up nosh tonight.
just
leave things to me.'
'But I
don't want to spend the whole evening with two old codgers!'
'Listen,
shut up and trust me!'
Tilly
exclaimed in one breath.
'Henry's a very good client here and I can vouch for his ...
er
, prosperity. Robert's unusually flush as well, and
they're just looking for a couple of birds to spend some money on and time with
... and that's us, kid.' She looked triumphant. 'Be nice to '
em
, and they'll take us out somewhere real fancy. You can
order the most expensive thing on the menu and they won't bat an eye.'
Connie
remained looking doubtful.
'And afterwards?'
'No
afterwards,'
Tilly
said smugly. 'We dodge '
em
.'
Connie
wasn't convinced, but began to look more interested.
'How?'
'Piece of cake.
Before we leave the restaurant, we just tell '
em
we want to go to the loo or
somethin
', and we hop it
without them seeing.
On our
tods
.'
'I'm not
sure about this,
Tilly
, it seems wrong.'
Tilly's
forehead creased in exasperation. 'You said you didn't
wanna
stick with two groaners like '
em
. For Christ's sake,
don't start feeling sorry for those two, they got wives tucked away
somewheres
, so if they can be greedy and dishonest, then so
can we.'
Finally,
Tilly
managed to persuade her that it was all 'just a bit
of fun' and the two girls returned to where the men were waiting. Connie looked
at the man whom she supposed was Robert and thought that, beside the other, he
was fairly decent-looking, at least presentable. However, when he was
introduced to her, Robert proved to be as soapy and glib as Henry, but when
Tilly
nudged her in the ribs, Connie made an effort to
reply as sweetly as possible with the necessary polite noises.
In no time
at all, the four were seated in Henry's Jag; Connie was in front with him, with
Tilly
and Robert, who appeared to have taken a shine
to
Tilly's
dark gypsy looks, in the back.
Henry
flashed Connie the smile that split his face.
'Comfy, little
lady?'
'Ever so,
thanks.'
He didn't
seem to notice the self-mockery and affectation in her voice. He thought she
must always be so naturally sugary.
'My, aren't
we lucky to have such lovely ladies with us tonight, Robert?' Henry smirked
over his shoulder, at which Robert gave a braying laugh that set Connie's teeth
on edge. Robert meanwhile, no slow-coach, had his arm around
Tilly's
shoulders while his fingers played with the lobe of
her ear. Henry stole a sidelong look at his on partner and dropped his hand on
to her knee, with an assumed naturalness. She watched it resting there, like a
flabby crab, and she was sure her skin crawled. He was so oily, so sure of
himself while she could only think of him as pathetic.
'And where
would you like to eat ...
Constance,
isn't it?'
She gave
him a forced smile. 'Yes,' and was relieved when he removed his hand to the steering
wheel as he started the car. 'I don't mind where we go.' she added.
'How about La
Padoli's
?'
Tilly
chirped up as a suggestion.
She looked
as if she were enjoying herself, Connie thought, and didn't appear to mind if
Robert's pink digits were crawling all over her skin like slugs.
'Good
idea,' Henry answered.
and
swerved the car to join the
flow of traffic. 'They've got a good casino there, and we can have ourselves a
bit of a flutter before eating. You'd like that, wouldn't you?' he added to no
one in particular, and got no reply.
He turned
on the radio and Connie was glad they didn't have to make conversation. She was
beginning to dislike herself and, more than that, to resent
Tilly
.
Suddenly, she sensed Henry's hand hovering above her knees, and she stiffened
against the leather upholstery.
'My
grandmother's name was Constance, you know,' Henry was saying.
'No, I
didn't.
Really?'
'She looked
a bit like you when she was a girl.' Connie grunted.
'Were you
named after anyone in your family?' he went on chattily, not at all disturbed
by her aloofness.
'No,' she
said crisply. 'I was named after a stray cat.'
He looked
amazed, but concentrated on his driving without replying.
'What do
you do with yourself?' he resumed after a short pause.
'When?'
Tilly
leaned forwards. 'She's a secretary, Henry,' she said, putting friendliness
into her voice and prodding the back of Connie's seat warningly.
'Oh? Who do
you work for?'
'Jessop's.'
Connie felt extremely uncommunicative and wished he'd just drive and keep his
mouth shut.
'Good
people, Jessop's,' Henry said, wagging his head knowledgeably. 'Isn't that Sam
Jessop's baby?'