Family Betrayal (19 page)

Chapter Twenty

 

Steve Rawlings thanked his lucky stars that they'd left Drapers Alley. He hadn't gone back to totting, but didn't mind. Almost as soon as they'd moved in, their nearest neighbour told him about a job going on a local farm. He'd been doubtful at first, but had taken it on, and he'd found that he loved it. Though it was early in November, there had been a dusting of snow and the farmer had shaken his head, forecasting a hard winter with worse to come.

Steve trudged home, glad to arrive. In the porch he kicked off his boots before going into the living room to find Ivy sitting by the fire. The room was a mess, the housework untouched.

‘What's the matter, love?’ he asked, sinking onto a chair opposite her.

‘Nothing's the matter.’

‘Come on, Ivy. I know you ain't yourself.’

‘It's nothing, just a bit of a tummy ache, that's all. I think it was that pie I ate last night.’

‘You've been down in the dumps lately. If you're not ill, what is it? Did that letter from Linda to say that she's had her baby unsettle you?’

‘No, but we got on well and there's times when I miss her.’

Steve frowned, sure there was more to Ivy's funny moods than that. ‘Do you regret leaving Drapers Alley?’

‘Leave it out, of course I don't.’

‘I wonder how the family that swapped with us are getting on.’

‘They didn't move into the alley.’

‘What? How come we still got the swap?’

Ivy looked into the fire, then said, ‘If you remember, they had already moved back to Battersea, living with the woman's mother until the exchange was agreed. It had just gone through when the mother was taken seriously ill. She needed constant care so they decided to stay with her instead of moving into our place.’

‘Oh, yeah, and how do you know all this?’

‘I got it from the old biddy in the village post office. She was a friend of the family and said that they're still in touch.’

‘So our old place could still be empty.’

‘I've no idea, but with a shortage of housing, I doubt it.’

‘I wonder if they've found George.’

‘Bad pennies always turn up. Anyway, why are you so interested?’

Steve shrugged. ‘I'm not, but they're still your family.’

‘You and the boys are my family. As far as I'm concerned, I don't care if I never set eyes on the Drapers again.’

‘You've never told me why you hate them so much.’

Ivy looked into Steve's eyes, her expression thoughtful for a moment, but then she said, ‘I don't suppose it would hurt to tell you now. When my father died, I was just a kid, but Uncle Dan took me and my mother under his wing. He would turn up in his posh car, flashing his money by topping up my mother's war widow's pension. I grew up hearing the gossip about the Drapers – that they were thieves, my father and Uncle Dan both good at cracking safes. It was when he bought the builders' merchants that I became suspicious of my Uncle Dan's so-called generosity, even more so when I became an adult and he continued to help me.’

‘Suspicious of what?’ Steve asked.

‘Where do you think he got the money to start up the business?’

‘I have no idea, but what's that got to do with anything?’

‘It's got everything to do with it. You see, I think he got the money from the last job he did with my father, but instead of coming back from the war to his share, my father was killed in action. Uncle Dan
should have given the money to my mother – money that would have ensured that she died in comfort instead of poverty. But no, he didn't do that. Instead he must have kept the lot.’

Steve shook his head. ‘I think you're wrong. Dan might have done some dodgy things, but to him family is everything. He's got a code, a strict one, and though he might rob others, he would never rob his own.’

‘OK, so what happened to the money from the last job he did with my father?’

Steve was quiet as he ruminated on Ivy's words. Then he said, ‘Ivy, you were a child when your father was called up. How do you know they did a job?’

‘When my dad was killed in action, Uncle Dan came round to see us. I was supposed to be in bed, but I sneaked downstairs and heard them talking. My mother was in a terrible state, crying, but then mentioned that at least she wouldn't have to struggle financially to bring me up. My Uncle Dan told her that the job hadn't been successful – that there wasn't any money.’

‘Well, there's your answer then. It sounds to me like they didn't manage to pull it off.’

‘If they didn't pull it off, where did he get all that money from?’

‘Ivy, he didn't start up the yard for years, and I doubt it was the only job he did. No doubt he had a good few bob stashed away.’

‘Exactly! I'm sure they pulled off other jobs before my father was called up. If my Uncle Dan had money stashed away, why didn't my father?’

Steve scratched his head. ‘Yeah, well, you've got me there.’

‘I'll tell you why. My uncle always handled the finances, so I think he kept my father's stash. Even if the last job was a washout, there still should have been cash for my mother, but we never saw a penny. When she died, Uncle Dan played the kind uncle, and when we got married he got us our house in Drapers Alley. Why do you think he did all that?’

‘Well, you're his niece and he's big on looking after his family.’

‘If you ask me, it was more like guilt.’

Steve stared into the fire. He still couldn't believe that Dan Draper would rob his own brother, but had to admit that it all sounded suspicious. He turned back to Ivy. ‘If you're so sure about this, why didn't you confront your Uncle Dan?’

‘Because I didn't have any proof, but when I used to bait him – to hint – I could tell that I had him rattled. I wanted to pay him back, to make him suffer, but then lo and behold, George did it for me.’

‘Yeah, well, Dan certainly suffered. George nearly killed him.’

‘When it happened, when I knew the state Uncle Dan was in, all my anger sort of left me. I hated the
alley then, and everyone in it. I just wanted out, and thank God we got the exchange.’

‘I'm with you there. I didn't like working for them, Ivy. I used to shit myself every time I went out on a delivery.’

Ivy's eyes narrowed. ‘If you were only delivering building materials, I don't see why. Come on, Steve, we're never going to see the Drapers again so you can tell me what they were really up to.’

Steve looked into the fire, ruminating again. Surely there'd be no harm in telling her now. ‘All right, Ivy, I suppose you deserve the truth. You thought they were doing jobs, robberies, but in fact they made money from porn. It was my job to deliver it.’

‘Porn! My God, I can't believe it.’

‘It's the truth, Ivy. They've got a place in Wimbledon where they make the films.’

‘What sort of place?’

Steve told her where it was and about the setup, but then she suddenly slumped forward, clutching her tummy.

‘What is it, love? Are you all right?’

The boys came running through the door, their cheeks rosy from the cold air. They loved playing outside and it was impossible to keep them in. Steve saw the effort Ivy made to straighten herself up, her face the colour of dough. ‘I reckon you should see the doctor.’

‘What's the matter, Mum?’ Ernie asked.

‘Nothing, love, it's just a bit of indigestion, that's all. Now, let's get you cleaned up before dinner.’

Steve could see what an effort it was for Ivy to stand up, and placed a staying hand on her arm. ‘Let me get the stink of the farmyard off and then I'll see to them.’

‘No, I can manage.’

She ushered the boys from the room, leaving Steve frowning. He wasn't convinced that Ivy had indigestion, sure there was more to it than that. She could be so stubborn at times and it drove him mad, but like it or not, he was going to make sure that she saw a doctor.

Chapter Twenty-one

 

The weekend passed and, in Drapers Alley, Yvonne still felt ill. She did her best to hide it as she placed Danny's dinner on the table, then sat opposite him. He had changed so much since taking over from his father. He had lost weight, his cheeks gaunt, and she knew he wasn't sleeping well. He often turned to her for sex, but that was different too, almost as if he was using it for comfort. Yet why? He had the responsibility of running the yard, but with three brothers to help him, surely there wasn't that much to worry about. Yvonne knew that business had been slow for a while and money tight, but with talk of some sort of expansion, things were sure to improve. She had tried talking to him about it, but he snapped her head off if she made any mention of business.

‘Are you still feeling rough?’ Danny asked.

‘No, I'm fine now,’ she lied, changing the subject. ‘Danny, are you going round to see Linda's baby?’

‘No, why should I?’

‘She's your niece.’

‘So what?’ he said, his voice lacking interest as he pushed his plate to one side, his meal hardly touched. ‘I've got to go out again for a couple of hours.’

‘Oh, Danny, not again. It's already eight o'clock and you're hardly in these days.’

‘Don't start, Yvonne. I've got a business to run, orders to get. I might be late, so don't wait up.’

Yvonne wanted to protest, to tell him to stop taking her for a mug. The yard was closed now, as were most businesses, so how could he be chasing orders?

When a scream pierced the air, Yvonne's eyes widened, then both she and Danny rushed outside, just in time to see Bob's younger son fleeing down the alley like a scalded cat.

Sue and Bob must have heard the scream too, Bob yelling, ‘Paul! Paul, wait! Come here!’

As Paul disappeared past the bollards, Bob set out in pursuit.

‘What happened? Did you see anything?’ Sue gasped.

‘We just heard a scream,’ Yvonne told her.

‘Where's Robby?’ Sue cried, her eyes scanning the alley, but it was Bob who appeared, holding Paul's hand as he walked towards them.

‘He's all right. He's just got a bit of a burn, that's all. A banger went off while he was holding it.’

‘It was Robby,’ wailed Paul. ‘He lit the banger then he gave it to me, but I didn't have time to throw it before it went off.’

‘Where is he?’ Bob asked.

‘I dunno. Oooh, Mum, my hand hurts.’

‘Come on, let's get you sorted,’ Sue said. ‘And as for you, Bob, I ain't happy that you bought the kids those bangers. If you ask me, they're dangerous.’

‘Leave it out, it's fireworks night and all the kids play with them.’

‘I think I agree with Sue,’ said Yvonne. ‘They're far too young to be playing with fireworks. Oh, look, there's Robby.’

‘I'll leave you to sort him out,’ Sue said to Bob, before taking Paul inside.

The boy had come into the alley and ran towards them. ‘Is Paul all right?’

‘No he isn't, and well you know it, you little sod. Now get inside,’ Bob snapped.

'I didn't do nuffin”, Robby protested, crying out as Bob grabbed him by the ear to drag him indoors.

‘They shouldn't have matches, let alone fireworks,’ Yvonne said as she and Danny went back to their own house.

‘Half the kids in the area have penny bangers,’ Danny said as he picked up his coat. ‘Right, I'm off, and as I said, don't wait up.’

Yvonne nodded, unhappy but knowing better than to complain again. She still didn't feel right, and hadn't for some time, despite telling Danny that she felt fine. Maybe she should see the doctor, but what could she tell him? She wasn't in pain. It was
just that she felt so drained. But knowing old Doc Addison, she thought he'd just prescribe a tonic.

Danny headed for his car. When Chris had been knifed in August, he knew it could be the start of a turf war, and had wanted to retaliate, to show Garston that the Drapers couldn't be messed with. He'd tried to be prepared, to find out all he could about Garston, his operation and the muscle behind him, but despite putting out feelers for months, it was still proving impossible. Time and time again he came up against a wall of silence and it was driving him mad. In the meantime he had put precautions in place, making films but only delivering them once a month, sending Chris out with a bit of hired muscle.

So far there hadn't been any more trouble, but Danny doubted it could last. He climbed into his car. All he had found out so far was that Garston was rarely seen, but he wasn't ready to give up yet, and at last Danny had got a whisper of a contact. The bloke was someone he knew from years ago, one he was told had worked for Garston recently. Whether Bert Mills was willing to talk remained to be seen, but Danny was prepared to pay for information.

There was thick smoke in the air from many bonfires, and the occasional rocket shot up into the sky before bursting into a shower of sparks as Danny drove to Tooting. When he walked into the pub he
saw it was nearly empty, but the man he was looking for was propping up the bar.

‘Hello, Bert. What are you drinking?’

‘Danny! Blimey, long time no see. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?’

‘I was hoping for a little chat.’

‘Oh, yeah, what about?’

‘Tell me what you're drinking first.’

‘Bitter, mate. I'll have a pint of bitter.’

Danny waited until the landlord had pulled two pints, but after paying, the publican still hovered within hearing distance.

‘Come and sit down, Bert,’ Danny said, indicating a table.

Once seated, Danny leaned forward, saying softly, ‘What can you tell me about Garston?’

‘I can't tell you anything, Danny.’

‘I'll make it worth your while.’

‘If I open my mouth I wouldn't live long enough to spend it.’

‘He wouldn't know the info came from you.’

‘Huh, you don't know Jack Garston. He's got eyes and ears everywhere and, believe me, he'd find out.’

‘Look, all I need to know is where he's based, and how much backup he's got.’

‘Danny, I don't know what you're up to, but you don't want to cross Garston.’

‘One of his mob knifed my brother and I ain't standing for that.’

‘Yeah, well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I still can't tell you anything.’

‘Yes you can, Bert, and before you say no again, remember – I can be just as nasty as Garston.’

Bert paled, but shook his head. ‘Yeah, you frighten me, Danny, but not as much as Garston.’ He then rose to his feet, his pint of beer untouched as he walked back to the bar where he leaned forward, saying something to the landlord.

The landlord's eyes shot towards Danny, and when Danny saw him walk to the back of the bar to make a phone call, he knew it was time to leave. Bert had obviously opened his mouth and now Garston would know he'd been trying to suss him out. Danny walked out of the bar, determined that one day, when Bert was least expecting it, he'd make him pay for dobbing him in.

Bert Mills had been ordered to the club. He'd been nervous around Danny Draper, but that was nothing compared to how he felt now.

Jack Garston sat behind his desk in the back room, his eyes rock hard. ‘What did Draper want?’

‘He was trying to find out about your operation.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘Nothing, Jack.’

‘Are you sure about that? I hear that you and Draper go back a while.’

As Jack's cold eyes bored into his, Bert felt like
prey. He had to convince the man or he'd be dead meat. ‘Yeah, I know him, but I ain't seen him for years. I didn't say a word, Jack. I swear. I warned him off, that was all.’

Garston's smile was thin. ‘All right, Bert, relax. Sit yourself down and we'll have a little chat. Rick here will get you a drink. Whisky, is it?’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Bert said, still tense as he sat down. Rick was one of Garston's henchmen, known for his love of pulling out his victims' fingernails. Bert moved his hands to his lap as though this small act could protect them, but Rick went to the bar, pouring the drinks. Garston seemed satisfied, but Bert knew better than to let down his guard. The man didn't look like a villain. Short and overweight, he could appear benign, fooling anyone who wasn't aware of his reputation, but if crossed the change was instantaneous. He became a vicious monster, and there were those who had found this out to their cost.

Garston lit a fat cigar, his cheeks puffing like bellows, then ordered Bert, ‘Tell me what you know about the Drapers.’

As Rick put a shot of whisky in front of him, Bert instantly picked the glass up, swallowing the lot in one gulp. ‘As I said, I ain't seen them in years so I can't tell you what they get up to nowadays. They've been rumoured to have done a few jobs, but then Dan Draper bought a yard, becoming respectable.
Mind you, knowing the Drapers the business could be a front, but I don't know what for.’

‘I do, and you ain't telling me anything that I don't know already. The Drapers need another lesson, a hard one. Tell me about the family, what makes them tick.’

‘There ain't much I can tell you, except that they look after their own. The alley where they live is a bit like a fortress and nobody goes in there without invitation.’

‘More stuff I already know, and it's not what I'm looking for. I want a weakness. For instance, what matters most to Dan Draper?’

Bert frowned, wondering what he could give Garston to get the man off his back. ‘There's been talk that he ain't what he used to be, but in my time I know his daughter was his pride and joy.’

‘His daughter,’ Garston drawled, gimlet-eyed as he sucked deeply on his cigar. Then he smiled. ‘All right, Bert, you've told me what I need to know. You can go now.’

Bert didn't need telling twice and hastily rose to his feet. ‘Thanks, Jack.’

Garston waved him away and Bert almost ran from the room. There was a stripper on stage but so anxious was he to leave he didn't pause to take in the act. He didn't know what the Drapers had done to make an enemy of Jack Garston, but it looked like the daughter was going to pay the price.