A Lonely Heart

Book 2: Bittersweet Legacy

by Kay Brellend

Genres: Sagas

Synopsis

Growing up in fear of their cruel, drunken father, Olivia Bone and her siblings haven't had an easy start in life. But when Livvie's fiancé, Joe, is killed at Ypres, and he bequeaths her his house in Islington, it seems like the Bone family might finally escape the worst street in North London.

Though their new life is anything but settled, at least Livvie has a good friend in Matilda Keiver and a better one in Lieutenant Lucas Black, her old boss at the Barratt's sweet factory. Lucas and Livvie might be from very different worlds, but he treats her with kindness and respect. As they become closer, she grows determined to assist with the war effort and help the brave men like him.

Livvie's life as a factory girl in no way prepares her for the sights she sees on the front line, where she enlists as a nurse - but amongst the violence and heartache, she finds new friends and new meaning in life.

As she falls deeper in love with Lucas, Livvie realises he has secrets that he won't share - and that there can be no future for them without mutual trust. But with the world at war, should Livvie follow her heart or her head - before it is too late?

Perfect for fans of Rosie Goodwin, Maureen Lee and Nadine Dorries.

Release date: November 8, 2018

Publisher: Piatkus

Print pages: 416

Sample

May 1915

The women who’d been on shift at Barratt’s sweet factory since eight o’clock in the morning were usually quick off the mark about heading home once the evening bell sounded. But on this particular rainy day in May about a score of them were still loitering by the gate, giving raucous advice to two of their workmates who were rolling about on the wet cobbles intent on battering each other. Word had got round about a catfight after work so the jeering crowd had been ready and waiting outside.

Olivia Bone was one of those who usually sped away to catch the bus home. She lived some distance from the Wood Green factory and liked to get back to Islington for tea with her young brother. But she too had been curious enough to stop and see who was daft enough to brawl over a man.

She bobbed about on the fringes of the group, hoping for a peek at the action, then cursed beneath her breath as she glimpsed straggling, brassy blonde hair gripped in somebody’s fist. Then she recognised a voice. Olivia was exasperated, but not surprised. Should have known she’d be in on it. With a resigned sigh, she elbowed her way through the onlookers and grabbed at one of the two women rolling about on the cobbles.

‘What in God’s name d’you think you’re playing at?’ Olivia yelled at her cousin. By now Ruby Wright had hold of a hank of her opponent’s dark hair and was busy delivering a slap to Cath Mason’s face.

‘I didn’t start it! Anyhow, ain’t none of your business,’ Ruby spat over her shoulder. ‘So you can sling yer hook.’

Olivia dragged her away, whacking aside her cousin’s hands as she tried to set about Cath again.

‘Cath’s me friend, you know that,’ Olivia bawled, giving Ruby a shake. ‘What the hell’s this all about?’

‘That bitch is after my Trevor,’ Cath panted, dragging herself to her knees. Her face was bleeding and striped down one of her cheeks by Ruby’s clawed fingernails.

‘Got me own bloke – don’t need yours, thanks all the same,’ Ruby sneered. She swooped on a small fancy hat lying in the gutter and slapped it back on her tangled blonde locks.

‘I heard one bloke ain’t enough for you, Ruby Wright,’ a spectator called, setting the crowd sniggering. ‘’Specially if he can’t pay fer it.’

‘Yeah … and I heard that your old man’s hanging about down Finsbury Park every payday.’ Ruby smirked right back at the woman who’d insulted her. ‘Being as it’s Friday, you should hurry off home and get his wages before a tart takes ’em instead.’

‘Well, you’d know where the tarts hang out, wouldn’t yer? Being as you’re on the game,’ the other woman retaliated, but a moment later she’d slunk off.

Somebody hissed a warning then. ‘Miss Wallis is on her way!’

The news that the directors’ secretary was coming out of the building caused the rest of the women to scatter. The management wouldn’t take lightly the matter of two Barratt’s employees making a spectacle of themselves, fighting outside the factory. Mr Barratt was a respectable fellow who set high moral standards and expected them to be upheld by his staff.

‘Keep to yer regular clients or you’ll have more o’ the same,’ Cath snarled at Ruby, dragging herself to her feet with Olivia’s help. She caught the heel of her boot in the hem of her long serge skirt and cursed as the material ripped.

Ruby tittered on seeing that. She knew she had nothing to fear from Cath’s threat. She’d easily been the victor in their scrap; considering she lived in the roughest street in North London, it wasn’t surprising she could look after herself. Flicking two fingers at her opponent, she sashayed off while still dusting herself down.

Miss Wallis drew closer to them, the expensive material of her skirt swishing about her polished boots. No rough factory clothing for her. She could have been a society wife in her elegant, fitted suit. Olivia covered up her friend’s dishevelment by giving Cath a lengthy goodnight hug. The secretary was a snooty sort. If she could rat on them she would, just to impress on them her senior position. Olivia and Cath chorused a mumbled goodnight to the woman then, once the coast was clear, Cath elbowed herself out of her friend’s embrace.

‘It’s your fault!’ she rounded on Olivia.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Olivia exclaimed in disbelief. ‘What’s it to do with me?’

‘Ruby Wright’s your bleedin’ family, and you got her a job here. The cow would never have met my Trevor but for that.’

‘I did not get her a job! She applied for it herself. And even if I did, I still don’t see how I’m to blame.’

Following a sullen silence, Cath said, ‘Sorry, Livvie.’ She sighed. ‘Just … it’s all getting on top of me, what with Trevor getting injured and turning funny.’ She started to cry softly. ‘I know it sounds daft but I wish he’d never got a Blighty one and was still over there fighting alongside his pals.’

Olivia was surprised to hear her friend felt that way. All wounded soldiers wanted a Blighty one – an injury that was severe enough to bring them home to convalesce. Their loved ones usually yearned for them to come home too. But Cath had more to contend with than most. Her fiancé had suffered mental as well as physical injury while battling on the Western Front.

‘Now he’s home he’s just a pain in the backside, and I can’t see an end to it neither.’ Cath’s voice sounded croaky with held-back tears.

Olivia put an arm round her. ‘I know it’s tough. This bloody war is getting to all of us.’

‘Sometimes I wish he wasn’t me fiancé. Sometimes I wish another woman would take him off me hands ’cos I can’t cope with him.’ Cath used the cuff of her blouse to wipe her face. ‘I know I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for meself, considering what you’ve been through.’

Olivia patted her friend’s shoulder to quieten her. She didn’t want to talk about that or it’d set her off crying too.

Her fiancé had been killed in action in Flanders and at times the memory of losing Joe crowded in on her, making her feel that she was suffocating. There had been mornings when she’d wanted only to burrow back beneath the blankets because the effort of dragging herself off to work seemed too much. But knowing there were so many others who were far worse off than she was had helped her to roll out of bed and get dressed. War widows with broods of children to rear alone had to face each day with a courage that Olivia doubted she’d be capable of finding. Every woman with a loved one fighting the Hun as a private soldier was terrified of receiving a printed form through the post that began, ‘We deeply regret to inform you … ’ and ended ‘Lord Kitchener sends his sympathy’. By the time her official notification arrived she already knew Joe had been killed because his commanding officer had paid her a personal visit, bringing back some cherished mementoes.

Lucas Black … the officer’s name ran through her mind smooth as honey, bringing reminders of his polished manners and raven-haired good looks. Only he hadn’t looked quite so dapper the last time she’d seen him. Less than a year ago Lucas had been a director of Barratt’s sweet factory, but when he came back from France on an icy day in January to tell her the dreadful news about Joe, she had not at first recognised the gaunt-faced man on her doorstep.

She’d not had a letter from him for a while. She hoped he was keeping as safe and well as could be expected for an army lieutenant serving at Ypres. Shaking off memories of him, she turned her mind to the battles closer to home.

‘Did you and Ruby have a fight because she was flirting with Trevor at the dance on Saturday?’

Cath nodded, dabbing her bloodied face with her hanky. ‘It was as much him sniffing around her,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t know what the bloody hell’s up with him since he got back.’ She sounded frustrated. ‘It’s as if he’s deliberately out to upset me all the time.’

‘You do know what’s up with him, Cath,’ Olivia said quietly. ‘He’s taken a nasty head wound. You can’t expect him to be right as ninepence just yet, can you?’

Cath scrunched her hanky into a ball. ‘Doctor reckons he’s acting weird ’cos he’s got shellshock,’ she finally said. ‘Don’t know much about it really ’cos he takes his mother with him when he goes to the hospital, not me. The old cow said I haven’t got a clue how to look after him.’ She grimaced. ‘She did tell me the doctor said we’ve all got to be patient ’cos it could take a while for his mind to heal … if it ever does heal, that is. Doctor said he couldn’t be sure it would.’ Cath bit her bottom lip. ‘But it bloody well better! How we gonna get married and get our own place otherwise? We can’t pay rent if he’s too nutty to bring in a wage.’

‘Give the bloke a chance,’ Olivia said bluntly. ‘He’s only been home a month. You can’t expect miracles to happen.’ She thought for a moment and added, ‘Why don’t you put his mother in her place by doing a bit of swotting up? If you find out more about it all you might be able to help Trevor.’ She nudged Cath’s arm for encouragement. ‘You know what men are like about their health: they won’t even take a dose of cod liver oil unless you nag the life out of ’em.’

‘Might just do that, y’know.’ Cath smiled at her. ‘Miss Wallis is arranging another lot of St John Ambulance courses. Perhaps I’ll put me name down. And in the meantime I ain’t going out to no more dances with him.’

‘Probably wisest,’ Olivia observed wryly.

A dance had been arranged for the convalescing servicemen at the Wood Green Empire and a party of the women from Barratt’s had gone along to show support. Olivia had been saddened to see Trevor, in his hospital blues, acting oddly. He’d always seemed an unassuming man, devoted to Cath. Yet at the dance he’d been loud-mouthed and playing up to Ruby’s flirtation even though his fiancée was by his side. Cath had been embarrassed to see him making a fool of himself in front of her work colleagues. As for Ruby … the more attention she drew, good or bad, the better she liked it.

‘Come on, let’s get going,’ Olivia said as the misty drizzle turned into a proper shower. She pulled up her coat collar, and lowered her head as they set off arm-in-arm.

When they were approaching the bus stop Olivia muttered a curse. Her cousin was already there. Ruby lived just round the corner from her in Islington, in a slum nicknamed ‘the Bunk’ in recognition of the number of doss houses and villains using boltholes in the road. Olivia had been surprised when Ruby was taken on at Barratt’s, given that she lived at such a disreputable address. But standards had been lowered. The factory had been virtually emptied of men of fighting age. Now the management were desperate for staff. Vacancies were being filled by older people and youngsters who looked barely old enough to quit school. Olivia glanced at Cath to judge how she might take bumping into her rival again but it seemed the fight had gone out of her.

‘I’m fetching Mum in some groceries so I’ll head off down the High Street.’ Cath sent a last contemptuous glance Ruby’s way. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Livvie.’

‘Yeah … see you in the morning,’ Olivia replied. ‘Chin up,’ she called softly as her friend walked away.

‘Don’t start on me,’ Ruby warned as Olivia joined the queue and stood next to her at the back. ‘Ain’t my fault that her bloke seems to fancy me.’

‘Is that right?’ Olivia said sarcastically and left it at that as their bus wheezed up to the kerb. She would have preferred to catch the next one and avoid her cousin’s company, but she didn’t see why she should make herself any later than she already was. She was hungry and she knew her brother would be too. Alfie would have been back from school some hours ago and there was little in the house for him to eat. She’d need to stop off at the corner shop for a few bits to make something for tea.

‘Wouldn’t want a bloke like that anyhow.’ Ruby began twirling a blonde curl round one finger. ‘That Trevor’s not right in the brainbox if you ask me.’

Olivia didn’t rise to the bait; she knew her cousin was out for a row. She avoided looking at Ruby as the girl plonked herself down beside her on the seat. Instead Olivia gazed out of the window, letting her companion’s voice fade into the background.

In the distance she could see Alexandra Palace rising on the skyline. Whenever she passed it she was reminded of the time her boss had asked her out on a Sunday afternoon and taken her for a walk in the grounds. It had been just days after war was declared … before anybody fully understood what horrors awaited, at home and overseas. Although there had been tension between them, and the sun had turned to drizzle, Olivia remembered it now as a lovely day, one of the best she’d known. It seemed long ago yet only ten months had passed since she’d strolled on those sloping lawns with Lucas Black. And in those months many brave young men who’d never again stroll through an English park on a Sunday afternoon had been buried in foreign soil.

‘Are you listening to me? I said we should all thank our lucky stars we’ve escaped the worst of it. Those poor blighters on that ship! It sank in just fifteen minutes.’

Ruby’s mention of the passenger liner the Germans had torpedoed off the Irish coast cut into Olivia’s reflections. Every development in the conflict was discussed over the work benches at Barratt’s. But the tragedy surrounding the Lusitania had been of particular grisly interest because it had been so unexpected, and so wicked.

‘Just a few more miles and they would have made it into port,’ Olivia murmured, shocked anew that having travelled all the way from America those civilians had perished when their destination was in sight.

‘Walk with you up Campbell Road?’ Ruby had stood up as the bus reached their stop.

‘Not going that way. Need something from the shop for tea.’ Olivia wanted to escape Ruby’s company.

‘Suit yerself.’ She sounded shirty at the rebuff.

The two young women started walking in opposite directions then Ruby came to a halt and trotted back after Olivia.

‘Hold up! I forgot to say, there’s something you should know … ’

Olivia turned about, frowning.

‘They’re getting married.’

‘Who … Cath and Trevor? I know they’re engaged.’

‘Nah, not bothered about them. Me mum told me that her and your dad are getting hitched at the register office next week. She told me not to say nothin’.’ Ruby shrugged. ‘Don’t see why I should do her any favours. She’s never done me none. Just thought you should know, and your sisters and brother.’

It took Olivia a moment to digest what Ruby had said. She felt winded yet wasn’t sure why she was so upset. She’d known for many months that her father had been unfaithful to her mother with their Aunt Sybil. Agatha Bone had been dead for over eight years, and had gone to her grave without ever realising that her husband and her elder sister had been carrying on behind her back.

Olivia and her siblings had grown up believing Ruby and her younger brother Mickey were their cousins. After so long a deception they still thought of them in that way, despite the fact it had since come to light that Thomas Bone had fathered the lot of them.

But Olivia knew she’d never consider Ruby Wright her sister, and neither would she ever think of Sybil Wright as her stepmother. She didn’t really want to admit they were related to her at all.

‘Well … that’s a turn up for the books,’ Olivia finally commented sourly.

‘Take it you won’t be going along to throw confetti then?’ Ruby smirked. ‘Me neither. But if they have a knees-up in the pub after I might put in an appearance.’

‘They deserve one another is all I’ve got to say on the subject.’ Olivia set off again.

‘See you Monday,’ Ruby called after her.

‘Yeah … unfortunately,’ Olivia sighed under her breath, and carried on towards the shop.

‘Treated you to some broken biscuits for tea. And I made sure Smithie put in all the Bourbon creams that he had.’

Olivia shook the paper bag by its screwed up top then placed it on the table.

‘Bet he tried to palm you off with stale Digestives, didn’t he?’ Alfie grinned, already diving his hand into the bag.

‘Just have one for now. I’m going to make sandwiches for us to eat first.’ Olivia took a loaf and a jar of potted meat paste from her bag.

‘Is it right that Dad’s getting married to that bloody bitch?’

Olivia turned about to see her sister Maggie hovering on the parlour threshold, wiping her hands on a towel. Even had Maggie’s words not betrayed her feelings, she would have read these from her sister’s pinched expression.

‘How did you find out?’ Olivia asked flatly.

‘Alice Keiver told me – her mum got chinwagging to Ruby down Chapel Street market. Ain’t true, is it?’

‘Apparently it is,’ Olivia said. ‘Ruby told me just now on the bus.’

‘So everybody else knows!’ Maggie stormed. ‘Nice of him to tell us, ain’t it?’ She snorted sarcastically. ‘Nancy going to be bridesmaid, is she?’

Nancy was their younger sister and still at home with their father and his fancy woman, though she said she couldn’t stand living with them and was itching to finish school and get a job so she could leave their household.

‘I doubt it’ll be a lavish do, if it happens at all.’ Olivia wouldn’t put it past her father to agree to marry Sybil to keep her sweet but steer clear of any cost or commitment. ‘Forget about them,’ she added more kindly. She could see the sparkle of tears in Maggie’s eyes. ‘Let’s get tea ready and settle down for the evening.’ She eased her aching feet out of her lace-up boots, then padded in stockinged feet into the kitchen. ‘How did your day go?’ she asked, sawing at the loaf of bread.

‘Got an interview on Friday fer another job,’ Maggie replied, using her hanky on her eyes.

‘You’ve only been in your present one for a couple of months.’ Olivia sounded surprised. Her sister worked in a laundry round the corner in Fonthill Road. But Maggie had always wanted better wages than washing and packing sheets brought in.

‘Alice Keiver and her friend are going soldering hand grenades in a new factory that’s opening up. She told me they’re still taking on, so I’m going to ask fer a job there.’ Maggie stuffed her hanky back up her sleeve and gave a little sniff, bucking herself up.

‘Fingers crossed you get it, if that’s what you want.’ Olivia gave her sister a smile.

‘You could come too. Don’t know why you want to stick at making sweets when the munitions factories are crying out for staff.’ Maggie’s top lip curled. ‘Get you away from him, wouldn’t it, if you quit Barratt’s? Don’t know how you can stand even looking at him every day.’

Maggie always referred to their father as ‘him’ now. Of them all, she was most hurt by the discovery of his adultery. In her opinion her father and her aunt didn’t deserve to be happy together. Olivia could only agree with that. Two people who should have respected and cared about Agatha Bone and her children had betrayed them all.

By the time the ghastly skeleton was out of the cupboard Olivia had become involved with Joe Hunter. He had been a man with secrets and past sins of his own, but it hadn’t stopped Olivia from loving him. She’d come to a philosophical acceptance of human weakness. Sometimes people did shameful things they regretted, but circumstances – and bonds that couldn’t be broken – kept them hurtling on, like poor blinkered horses being spurred towards enemy machine guns by the masters they trusted. But their arrogant, obstinate father had never once apologised or begged forgiveness from his children for the hurt he’d caused to the living or the dead. And that was wrong in her opinion.

‘I keep out of Dad’s way at work, and he keeps out of mine.’ Olivia continued spreading marge on bread.

‘Well, on Monday I reckon you shouldn’t keep out of his way,’ Maggie said forcefully. ‘You should make a point of telling him what we all think of him and that old cow.’

‘He knows without it needing to be spelled out,’ Olivia said flatly. ‘And I’m not packing in me job ’cos of him. I’ve got good friends at Barratt’s.’

‘Cath won’t worry about you when she gets married and has kids,’ Maggie said succinctly.

‘God willing,’ Olivia muttered. From what Cath had said about Trevor it seemed they might not be a couple for much longer, let alone have children. Yet they almost had been parents and the baby would have been due about now if Cath hadn’t visited an abortionist last autumn.

Olivia’s thoughts were interrupted by a bang on the front door. They weren’t expecting anybody so she raised her eyebrows in surprise. Indicating her sticky fingers, she said, ‘You open up, Maggie.’

It was some minutes later, while cutting the sandwiches into triangles, that Olivia realised her sister hadn’t come back and the house seemed to have a sinister quietness mantling it. Wiping her hands on her pinafore, she went to investigate, a weird sensation prickling at the nape of her neck. As she drew closer to the parlour the sound of whispered conversation reached her ears. One voice was her sister’s and the other male, but too deep to be Alfie’s. Yet there was something familiar about that coarse tone.

It couldn’t be, Olivia reassured herself, because she’d heard that Harry Wicks had been reported missing in Flanders. She recalled having hoped without a scrap of guilt that the evil swine had perished.

With a shaking hand she grabbed the door knob and burst into the parlour. At first she didn’t see him; but she saw her brother’s doubtful expression, and Maggie’s defiance, and that was enough to make her heart sink.

Then out he stepped from behind the door she’d flung open, looking dapper in his blue hospital uniform. He’d grown a thick moustache that covered his fleshy top lip and for a moment Olivia struggled to recognise him, but his brown eyes were the same, slithering over her like twin beetles.

‘Well … nice to see you, Livvie. You’re looking good, ain’t yer, gel?’ Harry Wicks gave her a leering smile.

‘What the bloody hell do you want?’

‘Don’t talk to Harry like that!’ Maggie burst out crossly. ‘He’s come to see me, to let me know he’s alive and on convalescence. It’s wonderful news!’ She beamed at him. ‘I was worried that you’d bought it.’

‘Nah … you don’t get rid of me that easily. Look, good as new.’ Harry did a little pivot on the spot, hands spread cockily.

‘You’ll be wanting to get out of those hospital blues and back into your regular uniform then,’ Olivia said acidly. ‘And help put an end to this damned war.’

‘Can’t go back till I’m signed off as A1 by the doc. Need a bit more rest and recreation.’ He winked at her.

‘I’ll treat you to a night at the flicks.’ Maggie’s soppy smile struck fear into Olivia’s heart. She could feel her cheeks growing cold as the blood drained from them. She’d hoped that Maggie had got over her schoolgirl infatuation with Harry Wicks. She had been just fourteen when the dirty swine started touching her up. After Olivia had found out what had been going on between them she’d done her best to force them apart, but like a moth to a savage flame Maggie kept going back to singe her wings some more. And now he was sniffing around again, and Maggie was looking happy about it.

‘Is tea ready?’ Alfie piped up. He felt awkward beneath the oppressive tension in the room. He remembered Harry Wicks as one of their neighbours back in Wood Green but wasn’t too sure why one of his sisters seemed to like him a lot and the other not at all.

‘It’s set out in the kitchen. Help yourself to sandwiches, Alfie,’ Olivia said, keen to get the eight year old out of the way.

As Alfie passed him on his way to the door, Harry ruffled the boy’s hair. Olivia had to stop herself springing forward to knock that hand away. She knew it was a false display of affection and that he was deliberately out to aggravate her. Harry Wicks hadn’t changed. The war hadn’t made him stop and think, as it had others who’d come back humbled by their dreadful experiences.

‘You can have tea with us, Harry,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s only sandwiches and biscuits but … ’

‘No, he can’t,’ Olivia butted in.

Maggie reddened and her small mouth pursed into an angry knot. ‘Well, in that case, I don’t want none either. We’ll go out to the caff. I’ve got me wages as I’ve just got paid.’ She gave her sister a rebellious stare. ‘I’ll get me coat.’

‘Well, before you disappear and spend all your money on him, you can hand over your housekeeping.’

Blushing furiously, Maggie turned her back on them all and dug into her pocket. Having counted out coins she slapped a fistful of them into her sister’s waiting palm before sweeping out of the room.

‘Didn’t need to humiliate her like that, did you?’ Harry said, stroking his bushy upper lip while his tongue wet the lower one.

‘If she’s got money to waste on you, she can pay her way here. Anyway you’re a fine one to talk. I remember you “humiliated” her as often as you could at one time. And enjoyed the doing of it.’

‘And she loved it, did Maggie.’ He gave a dirty laugh. ‘Couldn’t get rid of her at times, she was hanging around me like a bitch on heat.’

Olivia clenched her fists at her sides; for two pins she would have leaped on him and pummelled him as hard as she could, but she knew he’d only have liked that. Maggie hadn’t even had properly formed breasts when Olivia had found him with his hand inside her sister’s blouse.

‘She asked me to marry her, y’know, before I joined up. Wish I had got married now, and had a nipper. Ain’t so much pressure on a family man to fight for King and country, is there?’ Harry turned the screws.

‘I know you’re a bloody coward, you’ve no need to rub it in,’ Olivia said contemptuously.

‘This here says I ain’t a coward.’ He waggled his right trouser leg.

Olivia had noticed he moved with a slight limp; that apart, he looked fit as a fiddle. But he’d malinger if he could.

‘Reckon your Maggie’s still under my spell. She won’t want me going back over there, risking me life again.’

‘That’s ’cos she’s never known the half of it where you’re concerned,’ Olivia replied through her teeth.

‘Wonder if she knows the half of what you’re really like,’ he drawled. He looked about the room. ‘Nice place you’ve got here. I heard that Hunter give you his house. Shame he copped a bullet over there and left you all alone. I wouldn’t have gone down so easy, knowing you was waiting fer me.’

‘Joe died a hero, saving his comrades’ lives,’ Olivia said in a voice that shook with pride. ‘He’s got medals and citations from his commanding officers.’

‘Fat lot o’ use to him dead, ain’t they?’ Harry circled her, too close for Olivia’s liking. ‘And it don’t change the fact that he was a ponce. Must’ve done all right at it too if he managed to buy this place. Makes me think I should have a go at being a pimp ’cos I sure don’t want to go back to living with me parents.’ He put his lips close to Olivia’s ear. ‘You might think you’re too good fer me but I don’t see how you can be when you settled fer somebody like Hunter. I reckon you should be grateful I’d give a dirty gel like you the time o’ day.’

Olivia shoved him away as his lips grazed her skin.

He came in close again, whispering, ‘I’d like a place of me own, just like this one. Bet you could do with a man’s company, couldn’t yer? Expect lots o’ little jobs need doing round the house.’

‘I can do all the little jobs myself, and if I can’t I’ve already got somebody to help me out.’

‘Have yer now?’ Harry hadn’t been expecting that. He straightened up, smoothing his moustache with thumb and forefinger. ‘What’s his name then?’

‘Jack Keiver … and if you haven’t already heard of the Keivers then think yourself lucky. They live in Campbell Road, and if you make one wrong move Jack’ll thump you – or else his wife will.’ Olivia chuckled with real amusement. ‘If you think I’m joking, ask Maggie about them.’

Harry huffed his contempt for that threat. But he walked away. He’d heard of Campbell Bunk all right and knew that the people living there were all scum or villains of some sort.

‘Perhaps if I start me new life as a pimp and get me own place, you’ll be all over me then, eh?’

‘I wouldn’t be all over you if you had a mansion down Tufnell Park. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Maggie. From all of us.’

‘Or what?’ he crowed.

‘Or I’ll tell the police what I know about you and about a nun getting raped. I haven’t forgotten a thing.’

Harry sprang away from the fireplace and grabbed her face in one callused hand. ‘I haven’t forgotten either that you was Joe Hunter’s tart. And I ain’t scared of your slum pals neither.’

Olivia shoved him away just as her sister came back into the room.

Maggie gave them a suspicious look. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing. Yo