East End Angel

‘You are being a great help … thank you.’ Kathy felt guilty for allowing anxiety to make her snappy. The last thing she wanted was the woman going off in a huff, leaving her with just Peter to give a hand. ‘Are we able to get some more light?’ Kathy glanced up at a solitary gas lamp shedding a weak glow over the disarray in the room.

‘There’s an oil lamp in our bedroom,’ Peter volunteered. He’d left Pansy in there on the bed, but now trotted back to the room to get the light.

‘Don’t want no more fuckin’ light; want me husband,’ Ruby moaned, swiping a hand across her sweat-soaked brow.

‘Told you she was delirious,’ Peggy muttered sarcastically. She lived close enough to the Potters to have heard the commotion that blew up regularly between Ruby and Charlie. She’d seen the poor cow sporting her bruises too. If she’d not gleaned from local gossip why she was getting them, she’d have heard Charlie bawling out that his wife was a dirty scrubber.

‘Do you know where Charlie Potter might be, Mrs Mason?’ Kathy asked.

Peggy raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. ‘No I don’t, and I don’t want to neither. In my opinion, she’s best off with the likes of him out the way. Neither use nor ornament, that one.’ She turned back to the sink and filled more pots from the rusty cold tap, in readiness to lug them over to the stove.

‘You’re not an easy man to find …’

The drawling voice had issued from a nearby alleyway and Charlie Potter spun about to squint into blackness. He’d been drinking but was not as inebriated as he might have been. He and some workmates had spent the evening being entertained by a few dockside whores, so his rolling gait was due as much to being shagged out as drunk. ‘Depends who’s looking fer me whether I get meself found,’ he snarled.

Nick stepped under the gas lamp so Potter could see him.

Charlie licked his lips, cocking his head to a belligerent angle.

‘And what d’yer reckon you’re playin’ at then, Raven?’

‘Reminding you of your manners around my mother,’ Nick replied smoothly. ‘Just a friendly warning: stay away from her.’

‘Or what?’ Charlie threw back his greasy greying head, roaring a laugh. ‘What you gonna do, son? You couldn’t even keep yer own missus satisfied. You had to let Wes see to her for you. Don’t reckon you’ll have much better luck in keeping me away from yer old mum. Not when Lottie likes me so much.’

Charlie swaggered closer to the younger man, top lip curling. He knew that Nick Raven was going up in the world and had a reputation for being able to handle himself. But Charlie was confident his association with Wes Silver made other men give him a very wide berth. As this bloke’s wife had regularly dropped her drawers for his boss until Wes gave the silly tart the old heave-ho, he reckoned Nick was a prat showing his face, let alone confronting him.

‘Do yourself a favour ’n’ piss off before I get right narked.’ Charlie tried to saunter on by but found his path blocked.

‘Yeah … I will … as soon as you tell me you’re gonna stay well away from Lottie in future.’

Charlie sighed, took a look to the left as though to disguise the fact his right fist was coming up.

Nick stepped sideways and folded Charlie over with a thump in the guts before his opponent could hit him. He was an easy target: too old, too thick, too flabby. Charlie Potter was of a breed of men who thought their hard reputations, won a decade ago, protected them. But he was a nothing. In fact, Nick felt bad for having to do this to a bloke old enough to be his father. A moment later, when Charlie lumbered at him, swinging a right hook, Nick didn’t feel so bad about flooring him with a couple of swift jabs.

Charlie collapsed onto his shoes and Nick tipped him off with faint disgust. Up close, he could smell the rank odour coming off him: stale sweat and cheap women. But he nevertheless dragged him to his vehicle and stuffed him onto the front seat. Despite it all, Potter was a family man and his mother felt sorry for Ruby, so he supposed he ought to drop him somewhere near home …

Nick leaned across Charlie to push open the car door and was about to put his boot against his passenger’s comatose form to tip him out. He hesitated, having noticed Charlie’s front door was open and a child was on the threshold silhouetted by a weak light. The little girl appeared to be pointing at him as though she knew her father was slumped beside him. Nick glared at Charlie, wishing he’d not bothered bringing the bastard back home to dump him on his own doorstep. He should have left him where he fell in the gutter. It seemed odd at this time of night but if the kid was waiting up for her old man to come home, he could hardly kick him onto the cobbles in front of her.

Cursing beneath his breath, Nick got out of the car and strode over, hoping to shoo her inside before offloading Charlie. She looked frozen standing there, white-faced, in just a thin cotton shift. A bloodcurdling scream met his approach as though somebody was being murdered. Nick whipped the perished child into his arms so he could get past and into the house.

‘You a friend of Charlie’s?’ Peggy Mason gawped at the tall stranger hovering in the doorway, holding Pansy in his arms. She didn’t think he could be pals with Charlie as he seemed flash and well-to-do. She had a brainwave. ‘You a doctor, come to help?’ Peggy was optimistically hoping to nip off home. She’d done her stint, she reckoned. She’d been at the Potters’, running herself ragged, for two hours, and still no sign of an end to it all.

Nick shook his head, frowning. ‘What’s going on?’ He put the child down but instinctively prevented her from getting any closer to the half-naked woman squawking on the bed.

Peggy knew an opportunity when she saw it: doctor or no doctor, friend of the family or no friend, she had a husband who had to get to work and would create merry hell unless she got him tea and toast before he left. Plus, her youngest was overdue for his feed and she could feel her breasts leaking milk.

‘Somebody else here to help, Nurse. I’m just popping off to see to me little ’un so Bert can do his shift. I’ll come back later if I can … all right …?

Kathy had been crouching over Ruby, gripping her hands and calling encouragement but she straightened as her patient fell back, eyes closed. Pushing a blonde curl off her brow with the back of her wrist, Kathy gazed at the fair-haired man stationed by the door. ‘Are you a friend of Mr Potter’s?’ she asked. ‘Do you know where he is?’ Her weariness was making her feel light-headed. But she had to keep strong and alert for Ruby. From her palpations, she knew the baby seemed small and was having a terrible job fighting its way into the world. She frowned at the fellow’s silence, realising he was probably dazed from what he was witnessing.

Her patient let out a shattering groan and Kathy turned back, snapping over a shoulder at the newcomer, ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter who you are. Now Mrs Mason’s gone, could you just make yourself useful? It is a matter of life and death, so please don’t stand there like a spare part.’ From experience, Kathy knew sometimes the best way to deal with people in shock was to boss them about. She’d done it before to good effect with zombie-like husbands. ‘Peter is about somewhere and will take care of his sister, so just come here and help me, please.’

Nick stared at the scene in front of him feeling as though he’d stumbled into bedlam. An ashen-faced boy appeared, struggling with a heavy pail of water slopping about. For some reason, the expression of terror on the lad’s face galvanised Nick into action and he took the bucket from him. ‘Fuck’s sake!’ he growled.

Kathy swivelled on her knees, for some reason infuriated by hearing him say that. ‘Yeah … precisely!’ she forced through her gritting teeth before again urging Ruby to grip her hand and push.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_ffce4e6b-b838-5951-93d7-a88ec620d065)

Nick didn’t know much about newborn babies. He’d never seen the tiny girl his wife had lost. It had all been done and dusted by the time he got home from work. He remembered thinking that Blanche had seemed to get over it quickly.

He did know that they all seemed to come out with their faces screwed up. He’d seen his cousin’s triplets when they were a few days old. He glanced over the young nurse’s shoulder as she gently tended the swaddled infant, laying it in a drawer that had been whipped out of the chest in the bedroom to serve as a makeshift crib.

He glanced at the grey-faced mother, then at the baby. The light was bad but Nick knew the kid didn’t resemble Charlie either, squashed face or not. The tiny boy looked foreign. Thinking of Charlie made Nick realise he ought to check on him. He could still be unconscious; on the other hand, the weasel could’ve come to and done a runner rather than get drawn into this chaos. Nick had felt like doing the same thing, but then he wasn’t the kid’s father and shouldn’t be here at all. He took another glance at the baby’s sallow skin and almond-shaped eyes. Charlie wasn’t the kid’s father either, which meant the poor cow recovering on the bed had a bad time in front of her …

Kathy was aware of him leaving and turned her head to say thanks. She realised in all the commotion she’d not even asked him his name. But he’d moved too fast and had disappeared so the words withered on her lips. She wiped the poor little mite’s mouth of vernix. He was small; perhaps about four pounds, although she’d not yet weighed him.

Once she was satisfied that the baby was settled, Kathy turned her attention back to Ruby. ‘Nearly all done, Mrs Potter,’ she encouraged. ‘You’ve done the hard part, just the afterbirth to deal with now.’

‘She all right?’

Kathy jumped at the masculine voice behind. ‘I thought you’d gone.’ She herded him towards the door to give Ruby some privacy. At close quarters, and having the time for a proper look at him in the lamplight, she noted he was far younger than Charlie Potter. He was a good-looking man, too, she realised.

She twisted him an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry for shouting at you earlier, and thanks for helping.’ She was aware he was watching her steadily. ‘Are you a neighbour?’ Kathy didn’t think he could be: he looked too wholesome to be a local resident. But then you never knew who might have bad luck and end up renting a cheap place to doss until they got back on their feet. She’d grown up in a family who’d known its fair share of hard times.

‘I’m acquainted with Charlie.’ Nick’s smile was barely there.

‘Do you know where he is? His wife has been asking after him.’

They had whispered but Ruby had heard her husband mentioned and hauled her exhausted shoulders off the pillow.

‘You’ve seen Charlie? Where is he?’

Nick shifted sideways to avoid two pairs of eyes. ‘He’s just outside. When he comes round, I’ll bring him in.’

‘He’s been outside all this time?’ Kathy demanded in astonishment, glancing at Ruby, who was grimacing in pain. Kathy knew the afterbirth was on its way and soon Ruby’s labour would thankfully be over. ‘Is he drunk?’ she hissed.

‘He’s out like a light, all right,’ Nick said, his eyes drawing to the half-empty pail by the sink. His lips twitched as he picked it up.

A moment later, he was back, dragging a dripping wet and dazed Charlie Potter by the arm. ‘Say hello to the new arrival,’ Nick muttered, shoving him towards the bed. He went out again, closing the door after him this time.

Nick wasn’t sure why he was hanging around. He felt drained and hungry and ready for an hour or so’s kip. Yet still he sat in his stationary car, smoking, an eye on the Potters’ doorway. As his gaze travelled up over rooftops to a pale pink streak spanning the sky, he guessed it must be after five o’clock. Dawn was breaking on a new day but for a poor little kid and its mother there was nothing but trouble on the horizon.

She came out at last, carrying a small instrument case, closing the door carefully behind her. Nick got out of the car, striking a match and putting it to another cigarette.

‘Want a lift anywhere?’ She looked fit to drop but, exhausted or not, she was pretty, no doubt about it, and young. ‘You old enough to be doing a job like that?’

Kathy gave him a quizzical look but felt too spent to come back at him that she’d qualified a good six months ago as a midwife, and as an SRN before that, thank you very much. She chose to ignore his remark.