pushed open the pub door and, once her eyes adjusted to the smoky interior, spied the men she was after. Her husband was leaning on the bar just yards away. The place was crowded but his height and fair hair made him easily recognisable. Her short, balding father wasn’t quite so quickly located at his side. Blanche heard his gravelly laugh before she spotted him perched on a stool. She was relieved to see that there didn’t appear to be any women with them. Not that she’d have been surprised to see Nick with somebody else. He made no secret of the fact that he’d had affairs since they’d split up.
Blanche pursed her lips indignantly. Perhaps the navvy had thought he was being funny trying to rile her. She reckoned he’d known her identity even before she told him she was Nick’s wife, although she couldn’t place him. Nondescript old scruffs like him were ten a penny round these parts. Blanche was glad people knew of her association with Nick, despite the fact they’d been separated now for over three years.
Her father had turned and spotted her. He gave her a frown but raised a hand in greeting. The movement drew Nick’s attention. Blanche noticed he didn’t seem so pleased to see her; nevertheless, she weaved through the crowd to join them.
‘What’ll you have, Blanche?’ Nick asked mildly.
Blanche had to give it to her husband: even though she’d done the dirty on him, he’d always remained generous and polite to her. In fact, she knew if she had an opportunity to ask him for money before they parted, he’d probably hand over a note to her.
‘Gin ’n’ orange, thanks.’ Blanche gave him a coy smile.
‘What you doin’ here?’ her father demanded in a whisper when Nick turned away to get her drink.
‘Mum said you was with Nick … getting a job … so I thought I’d come and see you both,’ Blanche muttered defiantly.
‘Well, I’m more likely to get me job if you ain’t around,’ Tony Scott retorted, but not too unkindly. He knew his daughter had a renewed hankering for Nick, and he knew why that was. He feared she was wasting her time, but nevertheless wished the couple would get back together. At least then he’d have a bit of a peaceful home life.
Nick Raven was doing all right for himself now. He might not have been when he did the decent thing and married Blanche, having got her pregnant. Then Nick had been driving a lorry for a pittance and his son-in-law’s lack of cash and prospects had been the problem where Tony’s wife and daughter were concerned. Blanche had acted as though she was doing Nick a favour by agreeing to marry him rather than the other way around.
Nick was now on his way up and Blanche would have been going places with him but for her greed and her mother’s influence. Tony knew that it had been with his wife’s encouragement that their daughter had started an affair with Wes Silver. Wes was an important fellow around this manor, with a haulage company and gambling clubs, and a reputation for putting people out of business or in hospital if they crossed him. Wes also had a wife and a couple of kids and, when push had come to shove, he’d chosen to stay put. May Silver was too useful to him to be dumped for a younger woman. A lot of people, Tony included, believed May ran the show where Wes’s business was concerned and he merely provided a bit of bought-in muscle and credibility.
Tony knew it was sticking in Blanche’s craw that her husband’s lack of emotion made it seem Wes Silver had actually done him a favour by sleeping with his wife and breaking up his marriage.
‘There you go …’ Nick slid a glass of gin and orange towards Blanche.
She pouted him a thank-you kiss.
‘Done something different to your hair, ain’t you?’ Tony asked, to break the silence that had settled on them since his daughter’s arrival. He could tell Nick was pissed off by Blanche’s presence, and he knew why. A young blonde seated at a window table had been quite obviously giving his son-in-law the eye, and Nick had been encouraging her with subtle glances. Tony knew her name was Joyce Groves and that she worked in the café up the road. For a moment, Tony had thought trouble might start. Then he’d realised that the fellow sitting with Joyce was her older brother rather than a boyfriend. He recognised Kenny Groves from way back, when he’d been in the same class at school as Blanche.
‘What job you getting then, Dad?’ Blanche asked, her tongue loosened by a few quick gulps of gin.
‘Ain’t really spoke about that just yet,’ her father answered, glaring from beneath his brows. ‘Ain’t long been in here so not had a chance.’
‘Well … I’ve gotta be off in a minute,’ Nick said, looking at a fancy wristwatch. ‘Got to see some bloke in Shoreditch.’
‘No, stay and have another. My round …’ Tony Scott knew if Nick went off without offering him a job, he’d swing for Blanche for turning up and ruining his chances.
‘Can you start on a house in Commercial Street in the morning?’ Nick asked. ‘It needs decorating from top to bottom, interior and exterior. I know the weather’s a bit against us for outside work but—’
‘Course I can,’ Tony snapped at the offer of employment. He was a painter and decorator by trade but, lately, he had been picking up any sort of work he could find just to keep some wages rolling in. Although Gladys did piecework, sewing coats for a Jew boy, she never let him forget it was her regular money keeping them all afloat. ‘Be glad to start this afternoon on the preparing, if yer like,’ Tony burbled, keen to get his foot in the door.
‘Be obliged if you’d get going straight away, as I’ve got tenants lined up ready and waiting to move in.’ Nick took a notebook from an inside pocket and ripped out a page. Having written down the site address, he handed it over, upending his glass and draining it in a swallow. ‘Gonna get off now …’ He started towards the door.
He’d only managed a yard or two when Blanche rushed up to hang on his arm.
Nick kept going, trying to curb his impatience when his wife wouldn’t take the hint and leave him alone.
Outside the pub, he turned up his coat collar, then removed Blanche’s hand from his arm. ‘What do you want?’
‘Thought you might like to go to the flicks tonight?’
‘No, I don’t want to go to the flicks with you tonight or any other night,’ he said mildly. ‘We’ve been through this. We ain’t married now, Blanche … well, we are,’ he corrected himself, ‘but it’s over between us and has been for a long time.’
‘Don’t need to be.’ Blanche moved closer, rubbing her hip against his thigh. ‘I’ll come over yours ’n’ show you it can be like it was between us.’
‘Right …’ Nick drawled. ‘Well, I’d need to be some sort of demented mug to want to go back to that, wouldn’t I?’
Blanche slid her arms about his neck, gazing up into his lean sarcastic face. ‘Be better this time, Nick, promise …’ She turned her head as she noticed she’d lost his attention. A young blonde woman was on her way out of the pub with a man Blanche thought she recognised. She’d been at school with Kenny Groves but she realised the years hadn’t treated him kindly. In her opinion, he looked a good decade older than she did. Blanche could see that the petite blonde was more interested in Nick than the fellow she was with, and after a second she realised it was little Joyce, Kenny’s younger sister. She felt like flying across and slapping the little cow’s face because it was obvious she was giving Nick the come-on. Blanche understood why
