Название | East End Angel |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Kay Brellend |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007464203 |
‘It was my idea to come round to find you ’cos I missed you last time I came over to Islington.’ Kathy sensed her brother’s moodiness.
‘Well, don’t go asking me loads of questions ’cos I ain’t telling you stuff so you can tell her.’
‘What’s got your goat?’ Kathy grabbed his arm, halting him. ‘I’ve only come to say hello because I’m off back to Whitechapel soon. Wish I’d not bothered now.’
Tom had the grace to blush. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, walking on. ‘It’s just … I’ve had enough of Mum always going on at me,’ he threw over a shoulder.
‘Not surprised she’s going on at you if you’re always so bloody tetchy. When you leaving school?’ Kathy asked. ‘I reckon you need a job.’
‘Soon as I can.’ Tom brightened. ‘Dad said I can go and work for him.’
Kathy muttered beneath her breath. Her father was a criminal who fenced stolen goods for a living and she was amazed that he’d carried on his dodgy activities for so long without serving a spell in prison. As far as she knew, he’d never had any other sort of work and had been ducking and diving since he got demobbed at the end of the Great War. Her mum excused what Eddie did by saying it had been the only work he could find at the time. A multitude of men had returned home to compete for employment. Her father had never once discussed in Kathy’s hearing what he did, but she knew the war had ended a long time ago and her father had had plenty of time to sort himself out a decent career. Eddie carried on because the money he made was far more than a regular job would pay.
‘Mum knows all about the plan for you to go into the family business, does she?’ Kathy tilted her head to read her brother’s expression.
‘No, she don’t! And don’t you go telling her. Dad said to keep quiet about it ’cos she’d give us both earache. She reckons I should get a job as a clerk.’ Tom’s top lip curled, displaying his lack of enthusiasm for a desk job.
Kathy stifled a giggle at the idea that her brother would be accepted for such a position. ‘And what about Davy? Is he getting a job?’
‘He’s got a job,’ Tom blurted, then looked flustered.
‘What’s he doing then?’ Kathy prompted.
‘He’s learning to be a croupier at the weekend over on the corner there.’ Tom jerked his head at the Paddington Street junction. ‘Sometimes he’s dogger-out for the men instead, but he don’t get as much doing that. Earns a packet sometimes when he gets the pitch to himself.’ Tom added enviously, ‘Wish I could have a crack at it.’
Kathy knew that illegal street gambling had been going on at that spot for decades. She was also aware that some local kids earned tips acting as lookouts for the players. The coppers who patrolled the area soon put a stop to the illicit activities and were known to confiscate the proceeds, if they managed to lay their hands on it and escape. The gamesters in the Bunk didn’t take kindly to losing their stakes and were not averse to cutting up rough to ensure they didn’t.
‘You’d better steer well clear of it or all hell will break loose when Mum and Dad find out.’ Kathy sighed. Her father might encourage her brother to join him ducking and diving but he’d be dead set against his son getting involved in anybody else’s shenanigans.
Kathy had been waiting glumly at the bus stop for ten minutes when she noticed a posh vehicle slowing down at the traffic lights. She frowned, wondering why the car seemed familiar. The driver turned his head and saw her just as she was about to look away. He obviously recognised her too because he cocked his head, smiling, then pointed, indicating he would pull over.
The penny dropped and Kathy felt a bit flustered. It was nice of him to stop, she supposed, but it wasn’t really necessary. Nevertheless, from politeness, she lost her place in the queue to approach him. She recalled he’d introduced himself but could only dredge up his surname. It had stuck in her mind because of a contrast with his fair hair.
‘Hello, Mr Raven,’ Kathy greeted him with a smile. Last time they’d met in dim lamplight and she’d been bleary-eyed with tiredness, but she recalled thinking him good-looking. She hadn’t changed her opinion on seeing him more clearly. ‘Have you got over the shock yet of being my apprentice?’
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