to sell on. It wasn’t that Johnnie didn’t have enough of his own, it was that Ray even thought he could try to encroach on his territory.
‘Don’t whine, mate. I know it’s hard for you to get your head round it, but when needs must and all that … It’s not your fault you’re a cripple now, and I feel bad for you, I really do, but your family still need providing for. I’ve given you a good way of doing that so you’ve just got to get on with it. You help me and I’ll help you, but you’ve got to be committed.’
‘But committed to what? What you do’s dishonest. I was never clever, and I’m even dafter now, but that don’t make me bent. I’ve never been bent.’
‘It isn’t dishonest, it isn’t bent and you’re not daft, just a war victim.’ Johnnie struggled to keep his anger down. ‘Well, yeah, OK, it is a bit dodgy but, like I said, when needs must; and right now needs must. I’ve got a living to earn and you’ve got a family to take care of.’
Johnnie was sitting in his sister’s kitchen along with his brother-in-law, Roger Dalton. After they’d got home from the local pub Betty had made them a huge pot of tea, put it in front of them with a couple of home-made biscuits, while at the same time threatening them with their lives if they woke the two sleeping children upstairs.
Johnnie adored his elder sister and her children, and he even liked her husband, which was lucky, as he lived with them and contributed more than his fair share to the family budget.
Johnnie had been living with their widowed mother until the year before when, with very little notice, she had told him she was going off to be a live-in housekeeper in central London for a very wealthy elderly gentleman she’d met while working in the menswear department in Selfridges.
It had been a surprise but neither he nor Betty had been upset. Betty was pleased that her mother was enjoying her life again and had persuaded her beloved little brother to leave the temporary accommodation where he and their mother had been living since being bombed out of the old family home, and come to lodge with her instead. Johnnie was also pleased for his mother but, with an eye always on a chance, he had viewed his mother’s change of circumstances more cynically and could see that her affluent employer was a connection that he might well be able to cultivate in time.
All in all it had worked well for the whole family.
‘I reckon a good battering should do it, nothing too serious but enough to stop his fucking nonsense.’ Johnnie leaned back in the chair and blew smoke rings in the air as he thought about it. ‘That Ray likes to think he’s a hard nut, but he’s just another little punk without enough brains to be even a half-decent entrepreneur. As for Bobbie, he could be squashed underfoot in an instant. A few hard kicks up the arse should knock them down to size.’
‘Entrepen what?’ Roger looked quizzically at his brother-in-law.
‘It’s what I am and what I’m going to make you. Supply and demand. I’ve told you before, we find those who haven’t got it but want it and then we supply it.’
‘Supply what?’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Roger, anything anyone wants that we can get our hands on. We’re the middlemen. But you know all this; I’ve explained it over and over.’ Johnnie sighed and banged the palm of his hand against his forehead in frustration.
‘I know, but I’ve never heard it called that before. I thought it was just the black-market stuff.’
Johnnie sighed and leaned forward. ‘Now listen to me, don’t even mutter that expression under your breath, never mind out loud. We’re businessmen – does that make it easier for you to understand? Anyone asks, we’re businessmen. Don’t say anything else. OK?’
Roger Dalton frowned and shrugged. He had never been the sharpest knife in the drawer but, before signing up to fight in the army, he had had a steady job in a local factory and had worked hard to provide for his family. Now, thanks to a random grenade, he was officially an invalid with a gammy arm that hung lifelessly by his side, a shattered knee that didn’t bend, and an eye patch covering an empty eye socket while he waited to be fitted with a false one. But worse than the physical damage was the effect the explosion had had on him psychologically. Roger had returned from convalescence a nervous wreck who rarely slept and who jumped at the slightest sound. He was getting better – mostly thanks to his wife – but Johnnie had also more than contributed to his painful recovery.
Johnnie was determined not to see his sister go without, so he was doing his best to help by getting Roger into a bit of wheeling and dealing alongside him, but it was hard work and he could only use him on the periphery of his blossoming business. There was no way Roger could cope with anything complex and Johnnie wasn’t convinced he could be trusted not to talk inadvertently about his business to the wrong people.
‘I saw you down the High Street talking to his sister earlier. Betty told me who she was. Is she like her brothers?’
‘You never said hello – where were we?’ Johnnie asked sharply.
‘You were standing by the alley looking at her all daft, like. So is she like her brothers?’
‘I wasn’t looking at her like that, you idiot!’ Johnnie said a little too quickly. ‘But no, she’s not a typical Blakeley. An old head on young shoulders, that one; all classy and bright as a button, thanks to spending five years away from the no-hopers in her family. I think she’ll give the bloody Blakeley boys a run for their money eventually. She especially hates Ray so she’s a good one to have on our side. We can make use of her if we play our cards right; get some info from her when we need it.’
‘Do you want to go out with her then?’ Roger asked curiously. ‘She’s a bit of a looker, but don’t tell Bet I said that.’
‘Get off, she’s far too young for me – not even sixteen yet,’ Johnnie replied quickly, but with a lack of conviction. ‘But there’s something about her, the way she carries herself, her conversation … I dunno, she just seems way older than other girls her age. If I didn’t know I’d have put her at twenty.’
‘So you do want to go out with her?’ Roger pushed with a wide grin.
‘I said, she’s too young for that, but I do want to be friends with her so I can keep tabs on the two toerags.’
‘So are we going to have to batter ’em then? The Blakeleys?’
‘No we’re not, I’m going to get someone else to do it. We don’t want to get in any bother ourselves, do we?’
Again Roger looked vague and Johnnie could feel his patience evaporating.
‘Look, I’ve got to have a good think about it first. Maybe we could find Ray’s stash and nick it. He has to store it somewhere, probably in that garage where they both work. He couldn’t tell anyone we’d done it, could he? It’d drive him crazy and get him into some real bother.’ Johnnie smiled at the thought, then stood up. ‘Still, enough of that now, we’d better get ourselves off to bed before our Betty has a go. Me and her are off up west tomorrow to see Ma in her classy joint. Might even get to meet the rich toff she’s working for.’
‘It’s not fair. I dunno why I can’t go as well.’ Roger’s voice was childlike, his tone sulky. ‘Why does Betty want to go with you and not me? I’m her husband.’
It irritated Johnnie when Roger behaved like this, but he tried to make
