to find that she had a natural aptitude for it. With no children and no real scruples, Jessie had found her vocation in life. The only bugbear was the fact that she had ruled her husband, and now she ruled Ron and the little empire they had created.
Even the bigger boys were wary of Jessie. Just looking at her you could see she was capable of literally anything. She could evict a fifteen-stone man with the minimum of fuss, pour the drinks and head count the girls without thinking. Ron’s brother Danny had once been the brains of the business. Jessie had effortlessly taken over where he had left off.
This was the first time Ron had tried to assert himself, and in all honesty it wasn’t so much Madge herself as the fact that he was trying to take a decision on his own that bothered Jessie. She had to be in charge. It was just her way.
‘Come on, Jess, do the honours, love.’ Ron’s voice was cajoling now, tinged with desperation.
Jessie took a deep breath. Pulling herself up to her full five foot two, she said, ‘On your own head be it, Ron. It’s half yours as you point out, but if you done a bit of collar here now and then I’d be more inclined to take your point of view like . . .’
She droned on and he smiled at Madge, raising his eyebrows in triumph.
Madge looked from him to Jessie and stored the insults away for future reference. Jessie should have known better than to pull down a dock dolly because dock girls never forgot nothing.
Jessie went into the back room where the gambling would take place and Ron poured Madge a stiff drink of rum.
‘She’s all right, Madge. Don’t take any notice of her. She’s always the same, don’t mean anything by it. Once the other girls arrive, you’ll see I’m right. The main job here is getting the punters to bet. It’s more a gambling club than a clippie really. Remember always to keep your paper with you when you score a lump. Because Jessie will head count you all and she don’t miss a trick, but if you don’t know your score, she won’t tell you. Understand me?’
Madge nodded. ‘I thought you said it was your club?’
Ron stared down into her face and sighed heavily. ‘It is. Half mine anyway. Look, Madge, if you don’t like the set up, fuck off, love. There’s plenty more where you came from.’
Madge licked her bright orange lips and attempted a smile. ‘Don’t be like that, Ron. I thought me and you was mates.’
He relented and smiled thinly at her. ‘We are, providing you do as I say.’
Before she had a chance to answer the door burst open and two of the other hostesses arrived. Looking at them, Madge saw that they weren’t really very different from her.
Her dreams of the big time were shattered in seconds. Instead of ripping off sailors, she’d be ripping off local men. Who, unlike the sailors, could easily track her down. Knocking back her drink, she looked at the hubbub around her and sighed.
Well, it was a step up in its own way, and if nothing else she had Ron. Because a man in her bed was worth two in her hand, any day of the week.
It was just after eleven when the boys made their way along Upper Thames Street. They looked like trouble, which was exactly the impression they wished to create. Some were walking, others were on Vespas, the engines humming in the darkness. All were alert and ready for the trouble they were to cause.
‘Show us your gun again, Eamonn. Go on.’ Doughal Feenan was fascinated by the weapon and Eamonn handed it to him, laughing at the boy’s incredulity.
Doughal, all red hair and freckles, looked at his friend and said seriously: ‘You wouldn’t really shoot someone dead, would you?’
Eamonn could hear fear tinged with awe in the boy’s voice and shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Watch me. Those bastards need to be taught a lesson and a bullet up their arses should achieve that much at least!’
He laughed and the others laughed with him, all thinking this was just a frightener for the South
Even the bigger boys were wary of Jessie. Just looking at her you could see she was capable of literally anything. She could evict a fifteen-stone man with the minimum of fuss, pour the drinks and head count the girls without thinking. Ron’s brother Danny had once been the brains of the business. Jessie had effortlessly taken over where he had left off.
This was the first time Ron had tried to assert himself, and in all honesty it wasn’t so much Madge herself as the fact that he was trying to take a decision on his own that bothered Jessie. She had to be in charge. It was just her way.
‘Come on, Jess, do the honours, love.’ Ron’s voice was cajoling now, tinged with desperation.
Jessie took a deep breath. Pulling herself up to her full five foot two, she said, ‘On your own head be it, Ron. It’s half yours as you point out, but if you done a bit of collar here now and then I’d be more inclined to take your point of view like . . .’
She droned on and he smiled at Madge, raising his eyebrows in triumph.
Madge looked from him to Jessie and stored the insults away for future reference. Jessie should have known better than to pull down a dock dolly because dock girls never forgot nothing.
Jessie went into the back room where the gambling would take place and Ron poured Madge a stiff drink of rum.
‘She’s all right, Madge. Don’t take any notice of her. She’s always the same, don’t mean anything by it. Once the other girls arrive, you’ll see I’m right. The main job here is getting the punters to bet. It’s more a gambling club than a clippie really. Remember always to keep your paper with you when you score a lump. Because Jessie will head count you all and she don’t miss a trick, but if you don’t know your score, she won’t tell you. Understand me?’
Madge nodded. ‘I thought you said it was your club?’
Ron stared down into her face and sighed heavily. ‘It is. Half mine anyway. Look, Madge, if you don’t like the set up, fuck off, love. There’s plenty more where you came from.’
Madge licked her bright orange lips and attempted a smile. ‘Don’t be like that, Ron. I thought me and you was mates.’
He relented and smiled thinly at her. ‘We are, providing you do as I say.’
Before she had a chance to answer the door burst open and two of the other hostesses arrived. Looking at them, Madge saw that they weren’t really very different from her.
Her dreams of the big time were shattered in seconds. Instead of ripping off sailors, she’d be ripping off local men. Who, unlike the sailors, could easily track her down. Knocking back her drink, she looked at the hubbub around her and sighed.
Well, it was a step up in its own way, and if nothing else she had Ron. Because a man in her bed was worth two in her hand, any day of the week.
It was just after eleven when the boys made their way along Upper Thames Street. They looked like trouble, which was exactly the impression they wished to create. Some were walking, others were on Vespas, the engines humming in the darkness. All were alert and ready for the trouble they were to cause.
‘Show us your gun again, Eamonn. Go on.’ Doughal Feenan was fascinated by the weapon and Eamonn handed it to him, laughing at the boy’s incredulity.
Doughal, all red hair and freckles, looked at his friend and said seriously: ‘You wouldn’t really shoot someone dead, would you?’
Eamonn could hear fear tinged with awe in the boy’s voice and shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Watch me. Those bastards need to be taught a lesson and a bullet up their arses should achieve that much at least!’
He laughed and the others laughed with him, all thinking this was just a frightener for the South
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