Vixen: a gripping crime thriller

By Sam Michaels

While World War Two rages on around them, the gangs of London are fighting for their turf...
There might be a war on, but that doesn't stop Georgina Garrett running her business with an iron fist. No one said running the Battersea gang was going to be easy, but her unflinchable nature makes Georgina unstoppable.

With a role that requires a ruthless ability to seek revenge and pay out crippling punishments, Georgina's enemies are growing in number. With a target on her back, Georgina knows she must do everything to protect her family. But, with the loss of someone closest to her, can Georgina rise up from the ashes or allow a usurper take her crown?

Perfect for fans of Peaky Blinders, Martina Cole and Lesley Pearse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Apr 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781789542196

Sam Michaels

As well as writing Sunday Times bestselling sagas as Kitty Neale alongside her mother, Sam Michaels writes gangland sagas set in Battersea, South London, which is where she was born and bred. After leaving school at sixteen with no qualifications, she later became an analytical scientist and then went into technical sales, where she met her husband. A few years later, they moved from Hampshire to Spain. She now writes her novels in sunnier climates with the company of her husband, four dogs and six cats.

Book preview

1

3rd September 1939. Battersea, London.

Victor hammered on the scruffy front door and Georgina Garrett stood closely behind him. She could tell by the state of the dilapidated, small terraced house that the family who lived here were poor. But that didn’t excuse Bobby’s behaviour. She’d already given him fair warning yet he’d chosen to defy her and had taken it upon himself to rob Ezzy Harel’s jewellery shop in Clapham Junction.

She heard Johnny Dymond’s car pull up and glanced over her shoulder to see him park behind her own black Rover.

‘Sorry I’m late, Miss Garrett,’ Johnny said as he swaggered towards her, his unbuttoned, fur-collared cashmere coat catching in the breeze and billowing out behind him to reveal a smart three-piece suit. ‘Ain’t Bobby home?’

‘Yes, he’s in there, probably hiding his slimy arse,’ Georgina answered, her lip curling in disgust at the thought of the man. She’d guessed that no-one would come to the door. The sight of her pulling up with her huge bodyguard and Jonny Dymond in tow would be enough to put the fear of God into anyone. ‘Kick the door down, Victor,’ she ordered, her patience wearing thin now.

With one hefty boot from Victor, the frame splintered and the door flew open. Georgina glanced inside. The bare floorboards and musty smell reminded her of Molly’s old house and the poverty her best friend had endured. Her heart went out to Bobby’s wife. She pitied the woman and her children but she couldn’t allow Bobby to take liberties. Not again.

Georgina marched in determinedly, her heels clicking on the dusty wooden floor. She pushed open the first door to see a sparsely furnished room, just two mattresses on the floor and a small table. There was nowhere to hide so she moved on to the rear of the house and here she found Bobby’s terrified-looking wife. The woman was huddled in the far corner with her arms around her three small children. The kids were barefoot and Bobby’s wife wore little more than rags.

‘Where is he?’ Georgina asked.

The woman shook her head.

‘I promise you, no harm will come to you or your children. Just tell me where he’s hiding.’

The woman’s eyes inched towards a ragged curtain that covered an alcove. She’d knowingly given away her husband’s whereabouts but she remained silent.

Georgina nodded. ‘Take your kids out. They won’t want to hear their father screaming.’

Bobby’s wife quickly ushered the children out of the grimy scullery and avoided any eye contact with Georgina as she passed.

‘Johnny, see that she’s looked after,’ Georgina said quietly, and added, ‘Twenty quid should do it.’

She waited for Johnny to pass the woman the money and watched as the broken front door was pulled closed behind them. Then she stepped towards the curtain and whisked it back. Bobby had pushed his body up against the wall and defensively held a small knife in front of him.

‘That ain’t going to do you any good.’ She smirked.

‘Please, Miss Garrett… I ain’t done nuffink wrong,’ Bobby stated pleadingly, his eyes wide with fear.

‘Really? What about Ezzy Harel’s jeweller’s?’

‘I didn’t know I weren’t supposed to turn him over. Honestly, I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known he was under your protection.’

‘Bullshit. I’ve already told you once about doing things you shouldn’t be doing, haven’t I?’

‘Yes, Miss Garrett, but I swear, I didn’t know.’

‘Not even when you held that knife to Mr Harel’s throat and he told you that I look after him?’

‘No, he never said a word. He never told me. I had no idea.’

‘You’re a liar. In fact, from now on, you’ll be known as Bullshit Bobby. It suits you.’

‘I’m sorry, Miss Garrett, really I am.’

‘I’m sure you are, Bullshit Bobby, and I can be reasonable, so how about you drop that pathetic knife and come and sit down for a nice little chat,’ Georgina offered, her voice softer.

The colour had drained from Bobby’s face but now his cheeks seemed to be pinking up a bit. ‘Erm, OK,’ he answered nervously and placed the knife in Victor’s upturned waiting hand.

‘Good man,’ Georgina told him and pulled out a seat at the table, quickly wiping off crumbs with her hand. The legs were uneven and it wobbled as she sat down.

Victor walked behind Bobby, towering over him, and then Bobby also pulled out a wooden chair.

Georgina detested everything this weasel of a man stood for. He clearly couldn’t provide for his wife and kids and had already proven himself to be a liar. ‘You got away with a few bits of gold. Where’s your stash?’ she asked.

‘I lost it. I was running home and saw the gavvers. I thought they was after me so I slung the tom over a wall.’

Georgina looked past Bobby and gave one small nod of her head to Victor. Johnny stepped forward as Victor stooped to grab Bobby’s arms and yanked them around the chair and behind his back. Bobby was powerless to protest and as Victor held him, Johnny expertly tied his hands. Victor pressed down on Bobby’s shoulders and Johnny went to tie an ankle to each chair leg. Bobby fruitlessly kicked out but missed Johnny’s face and was soon restrained.

‘As I said, Bullshit Bobby. Now, you won’t be running anywhere until you tell me the truth,’ Georgina said and pulled a pistol from her burgundy beaded clutch bag, which she placed on the table in front of her.

‘No, please, Miss Garrett. It’s the truth, all of it. I ain’t got the jewellery. And I ain’t got no money for it. I made a mistake – I know that now. I promise, I’ll never do anything like it again. Please, don’t kill me. I’ve got a wife and kids to look after.’

‘I feel sorry for them, stuck with a useless wanker like you in this shithole. They’d be better off without you.’

Bobby’s face crumpled and his head slumped as his shoulders jerked up and down. ‘I ain’t a bad man, Miss Garrett,’ he blubbered, unable to wipe the snot that ran from his nose and fell with his tears.

‘Get a grip of yourself. I’m not going to kill you. You’re not worth the hassle, but this is the last warning you’ll get from me. Cross me again and I’ll blow your tiny brains out,’ she warned and eyed him up and down contemptuously. Then she picked up her gun and tucked it inside her bag before snapping it shut. As she scraped back her chair, she looked at Johnny. ‘Kneecaps. But wait until I’m out of the house. I can’t stand the sound of bones breaking.’

*

Georgina sat in the back of her car and Victor asked, ‘Where to now, Miss Garrett?’

‘Back to the office. I know it’s Sunday but I want to pick up something,’ she answered as they pulled away and headed towards Alexandra Avenue. With the proceeds her husband, Lash, had obtained from a bank robbery in Ireland, she’d purchased two semi-detached houses here and had knocked them through. One side was used as her base and meeting room, the other as a brothel ran by Dina, a Russian prostitute.

As they trundled through the maze of streets, Georgina noticed there seemed to be a lot of commotion. Housewives were dashing from their houses and knocking on neighbours’ doors and excited young lads wearing gas masks played fighting games with sticks.

‘Shit, it’s happened,’ she mumbled under her breath. Then told Victor, ‘Stop the car.’

He pulled over to the kerb and Georgina wound down the window before calling to a worried-looking woman who was stood outside her house and frantically glancing up and down the street.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

The woman frowned at Georgina.

‘Has something happened?’ she asked again.

This time the woman nodded then answered, ‘It was on the radio. The Prime Minister. That Neville Chamberlain bloke. He said we’re at war with Germany. I need to find me boy. I can’t see him.’

‘Don’t worry, he won’t be far away. He’ll be playing with some lads I just saw round the corner.’

‘Thanks, but I’ve gotta find him.’

Georgina wound her window back up and told Victor to drive on. The announcement of war hadn’t come as a surprise. Many people had already dug out air raid shelters and school children had been prepared. Jack, her father, said that war would be good for Britain. He’d told her the country needed a war to get the men back into jobs and industry thriving again. Georgina wasn’t bothered about unemployment or productivity but she had a good feeling. With war came opportunity and she intended to make the best of every chance that came her way.

*

Half an hour later, the car pulled up outside Georgina’s home. It was the same house she’d lived in all her life, raised by her dear departed grandmother. She could have moved on and rented somewhere bigger and in a nicer area but this was where her heart and memories lived and she couldn’t bring herself to leave them behind. It was the only home she’d ever known, a constant in her life.

Victor opened the back door of the car and as Georgina climbed out, she saw Lash coming from the house towards her.

‘Have you heard the news?’ he asked gravely.

‘Yes, we’re at war. Where’s Alfie?’

‘Your dad has taken him over the park,’ Lash answered and gently kissed her cheek. As he did, the air suddenly filled with a screeching, wailing noise.

‘Air raid sirens,’ Lash said and looked towards the sky.

A woman from a few doors down dashed past them. She was crying and shouting, ‘The Jerries are gonna bomb us… Take cover!’

She noticed the woman was only wearing one shoe and was obviously panicking. Lash reached for Georgina’s hand and gently squeezed it as if to offer reassurance.

Georgina returned the gesture with a tender smile. ‘They’re probably just testing them out. I’m not worried – there’s nothing here for the Germans to drop bombs on. I bet Alfie is loving it – you know how he enjoys playing soldiers. Come on, let’s get inside and put the kettle on. I’m gasping for a cuppa.’

As she followed Lash into the hallway, over the shrill sound of the sirens, she heard the telephone trill. She guessed it would be Molly. Her friend would be calling to voice her fears about the war. But when she picked up the receiver and before she had a chance to say hello, Molly began blurting out something about Charlotte.

‘Hey, slow down. The line is crackling, I can’t hear you properly,’ Georgina said into the mouthpiece and rolled her eyes at Lash.

Molly took a deep breath and explained that Charlotte had run off again from their farm in Kent. She suspected her sixteen-year-old sister was in Battersea somewhere.

‘Don’t worry, Molly, I’ll find her,’ Georgina said and then she heard Fanny’s voice in the background, scathing, as usual. Molly’s mother still blamed Georgina for the death of her other daughter, Ethel, and made no secret about it.

Molly told her mother to be quiet and Georgina promised she’d do everything she could to locate Charlotte.

‘What was all that about?’ Lash asked as Georgina hung up the telephone.

By now, the sirens had stopped but Georgina’s head was still buzzing. ‘Bloody Charlotte has run away again,’ she answered as she walked through to the kitchen.

‘Well, she’s sixteen. She can choose to live where she likes and she seems to prefer Battersea to the farm.’

‘Yeah, but you know what Fanny’s like. I’ve offered to give Charlotte a job and keep an eye on her but Fanny won’t hear of it. Do me a favour, darling, and get on the phone to put word out. She’ll turn up again soon, like a bad penny.’

Georgina filled the kettle at the sink and gazed out into the backyard. Her eyes set on the piece of dirt next to the coal bunker. Still, no grass grew over that area where her beloved grandmother had buried a barrel with her second husband, Percy, inside. Well, thought Georgina, her grandmother had lived through the Great War. In fact, Georgina had been born on the day war had been declared and she’d survived unscathed. She had no reason to worry about this one. And like she’d told Lash, there wasn’t anything round here worth bombing. Huh, she thought defiantly, if the Germans thought they’d like to visit her town, they should be the ones to be scared. After all, she’d built herself a reputation and now just about everyone in Battersea either respected or feared the name Georgina Garrett and that’s how she intended to keep it.

2

Charlotte looked up and down the street as she knocked on Ivy’s door. She knew by now that Molly would have called Georgina and the woman would have her gang out searching for her. But this time, when they found her, she’d refuse to be taken back to Kent. They couldn’t make her go and she wouldn’t!

Ivy opened the door but didn’t appear surprised to see her. As Charlotte had suspected, word had already spread.

‘They’re looking for you,’ Ivy said and folded her arms across her flat chest.

‘Yeah, I thought they might be. Can I come in?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t. If Miss G finds out that I’m hiding you, she’ll have my guts for garters.’

‘Please, Ivy. I won’t tell if you don’t,’ Charlotte begged and offered her sweetest smile.

‘Come on then, but you’ll be the death of me,’ Ivy said reluctantly and tutted.

‘Thanks,’ Charlotte replied and checked around her again before entering the small flat in a shared house.

She followed Ivy up the stairs and into her two rooms. ‘You’ve got it looking lovely,’ she said as her eyes took in the exotic paintings on the walls and coloured scarves draped over three armchairs.

‘Benjamin helped me design it. Them queer blokes have got a good eye. So, you’ve run away again? How did you get here?’

‘I hitched a lift. I had to. I can’t stand it at the farm. It’s so boring. Please, Ivy, can I stay here, just for a night or two?’

‘No, you bleedin’ well can’t! Miss G is bound to ask me if I’ve seen you and I ain’t gonna lie to her.’

‘Just for tonight then, please? You’ll be at work in The Penthouse Club. You won’t even know I’m here.’

‘No, Charlotte, I’m sorry but I’m annoyed with you for putting me in this position. I’ve got a good mind to march you round to Miss G’s right now.’

‘I’m not going back and not you or anyone else can force me to! If you won’t put me up, I’ll find someone who will,’ Charlotte said, bluffing, and spun round to walk out.

‘Wait,’ Ivy snapped.

Charlotte hid a wry smile. She knew Ivy was a soft touch and wouldn’t see her on the streets.

‘One night, but then tomorrow we’ll go and see Miss G together. You can tell her you’re staying in Battersea.’

‘Yeah, all right. Thanks, Ivy,’ Charlotte said sincerely but had no intentions of facing Georgina. ‘’Ere, did you hear that siren earlier?’ she asked in a bid to change the subject.

‘Yes, you couldn’t bloody miss it. They said on the radio it was a false alarm, thank Gawd. Bit frightening, ain’t it?’

‘I wasn’t scared ’til I saw this old girl bawling her eyes out. Have you got a shelter out the back?’

‘Yes, of course I have. You know what a worrier Benjamin is. He had a couple of Miss G’s men come round and dig one out. Not that I used it. To be honest, I just sat here, frozen, listening and waiting. I hope this war don’t go on for too long. I’ll end up prematurely going grey.’

Charlotte laughed. She didn’t think it would matter if Ivy went grey. Her hair was already dyed bright red and she always wore a hat, even indoors. Ivy was only four years older than her but seemed much older than her years. Charlotte assumed it was because Ivy had lived a hard life, being whored out as a child and then attacked by the Dentist, the same man who’d killed Ethel, Charlotte’s sister. He’d taken Ivy’s front teeth out but Charlotte still thought she had a pretty smile.

‘Are you hungry?’ Ivy asked.

‘Cor, yeah, I’m starving.’

‘There’s a packet of biscuits in the sideboard. Help yourself. I’ve got to go to the club this afternoon for a private function. Benjamin is picking me up any minute so keep yourself scarce.’

‘All right, and thanks, Ivy.’

‘That sounds like him now. Stay indoors and keep out of trouble,’ Ivy said as she picked up her handbag. ‘If them sirens go off again, make sure you get yourself out the back. I’ll be home after midnight. Pull them chairs together – you can sleep there tonight.’

‘I will,’ Charlotte answered and waved as Ivy closed the door behind her. At last, she was alone with no-one telling her what she could and couldn’t do. She glanced around the flamboyantly decorated flat and wished it was hers. She hated the thought of returning to the farm with her mother constantly nagging and moaning. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had to put up with Molly’s brat, Edward. The child was spoilt and could do no wrong. And Molly was a wet blanket. At least she didn’t see much of Molly’s husband, Oppo. He was always busy seeing to the farm. That was one saving grace.

But the worst of it was the sheer tediousness of it all. She missed the hustle and bustle of Battersea and her friends, though most of them shunned her now, probably on Georgina’s orders. The bitch, thought Charlotte. She hated the woman. She thought Georgina pranced about like she was something special, telling everyone what to do, including her. Well, not anymore. Charlotte wouldn’t stand for it. Georgina Garrett might think she ruled Battersea but she wasn’t going to rule her.

Anyway, why should she bother about Georgina? Her mother repeatedly told her it was because of Georgina that her sister was dead. Charlotte remembered Ethel with contempt. The childlike woman had been stupid. A proper dunce. But Charlotte wasn’t. She was clever and as far as she was concerned, Georgina bitch-face Garrett could go and take a running jump – preferably into the dirty water of the Thames.

*

‘Are you all right, dear? You look rather pasty,’ Benjamin said as Ivy climbed into his car beside him.

‘Yes, I’m fine thank you. Come on, let’s go,’ Ivy answered curtly.

‘All right, missy, no need for the attitude – I was only asking.’

‘Sorry, Benjamin. It was them sirens. Take no notice of me. Anyway, you ain’t looking too clever yourself.’

‘I’m exhausted, dear. Working six nights in The Penthouse and being Miss Garrett’s accountant is quite tiring.’

‘Maybe you should give up one of the jobs? I’m sure Miss Garrett wouldn’t mind finding another manager for her club, or another accountant.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t possibly trust anyone else to care for Miss Garrett’s financial interests and I’d rather die than hand over management of The Penthouse. It’s my baby.’

‘You could take a couple of nights off and I could look after the place for you. Or don’t you trust me?’

‘Oh, Ivy, of course I trust you. But I love it really. If I wasn’t in the club, I’d only be sitting at home and missing it. Don’t worry, a glass of champagne will perk me up. By the way, those earrings are rather stunning.’

‘Miss G gave ’em to me. I looked after Alfie the other day and Miss G said she had a bag of jewellery in the bottom of her wardrobe and I could help meself. I only took these and a ring. Lovely, ain’t they, and I fink they’re real diamonds.’

‘Yes, my dear, they certainly are.’

‘I’ve never had real diamonds before. I was a bit scared to wear ’em at first.’

‘They suit you and I can see they are very good quality so take care of them.’

Benjamin wasn’t surprised by Georgina’s generosity. And when it came to jewels, she wasn’t one to wear many so he assumed the bag of jewellery would soon be making its way to his father’s jewellery shop. From there, it would be moved to his second cousin’s shop in Manchester, exchanged and sold on. His father had been a fence for years, the name Ezzy Harel synonymous with stolen quality jewels. It had made him quite a wealthy man.

Twenty minutes later, Benjamin unlocked the doors to the club and turned on the lights of the winding corridors that led down to the basement where the private members’ club was located. ‘I think someone’s been in here,’ he whispered.

‘Don’t be daft. The place was locked up when we arrived.’

‘Yes, I know, Ivy, but I can sense something.’

‘You can sense someone’s been in here?’

‘Yes! I’m sure of it. Wait here, let me check.’

‘No way, I’m coming with you.’

‘All right, but stay behind me.’

Benjamin felt Ivy yank him back and she was now marching ahead of him. ‘I’m a damn sight tougher than you,’ she said, ‘so I’ll go first.’

He didn’t argue and followed behind, his heart pounding. Once in the basement, Ivy pulled open the doors and shouted, ‘Hello… Anyone here?’

No-one answered but Benjamin’s nostrils twitched at the faint whiff of burning.

‘Can you smell that?’ Ivy asked.

‘Yes, I can. Quick, have a look around. I’m sure something is on fire.’

Ivy dashed one way and Benjamin another. As he approached the stage, the smell became stronger but there was no sign of any flames. Then he realised. ‘The dressing room,’ he called to Ivy who was now running towards him.

The door was closed and Ivy went to reach for the handle.

‘NO!’ Benjamin shouted and grabbed her arm. ‘Wait,’ he said and felt the door. It was cool so he hoped that meant if there was a fire, it wasn’t a fierce one. With trepidation, he slowly opened it. Thick black smoke wafted out and he and Ivy turned their faces away.

‘Fetch water,’ Benjamin said quickly as he waved his arms around to clear the smoke and went into the room. There, in a wastepaper bin, he found the fire. Thankfully, it was contained and Ivy soon appeared again and threw an ice bucket of water over the smouldering flames.

They heard a sizzle as the fire was extinguished and then the sound from behind of the club doors as they banged closed. Both quickly turned to look and Ivy ran in that direction. Benjamin was sure he’d seen the shadow of a man fleeing up the stairs. He tried to keep up with Ivy but she was like a hare out of a trap. They hurried up the stairs and along the corridors. Moments later, Benjamin gasped for breath on the pavement and blinked his eyes, adjusting them to the bright daylight. He looked up and down the deserted street. There was no sign of anyone in sight.

‘He’s gone,’ Ivy said, sounding deflated.

‘Who do you think it was?’

‘I dunno – someone who wants to destroy the club. How the hell did he get in?’

‘I’ve no idea. I’d better call Miss Garrett. Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I’m fine. Good job we got here early today. If we’d have opened at our normal time, there wouldn’t have been a club left.’

‘You stay here. Keep an eye out. I’ll be back after I’ve spoken to Miss Garrett.’

Benjamin made his way back down with his mind whirling, trying to think of who could be responsible for attempting to raze The Penthouse to the ground. Whoever it was, they didn’t seem to have a grudge against him or Ivy, as the intruder hadn’t tried to attack them. Mind you, there was always someone lurking in the shadows to try and take over from Miss Garrett. She’d destroyed many men who’d threatened her position as the boss of Battersea’s underworld. Perhaps this was someone with a vendetta or maybe another challenge?

Minutes later, Benjamin was back outside in the daylight.

‘Is she on her way?’ Ivy asked.

‘Yes, and she said to check the toilets and carry on as normal. So let’s get the place ready. We’ve got the birthday boy and his friends arriving in an hour. Goodness knows how we’re going to get rid of the terrible smell.’

‘Spray your expensive French perfume on the candles. That oughta do it.’

‘I don’t think so, dear. I’m not wasting my Houbigant. It was a gift from Aubrey sent all the way from Paris,’ he answered in a haughty tone.

Back in the club, Ivy busied herself waving bar towels around to try and dispel the singed aroma in the air. Benjamin was preparing the bar but kept a close eye on the door. He feared that whoever had attempted to torch the place might come back and try again with them inside. ‘Hurry up, Miss Garrett,’ he whispered under his breath. He wouldn’t feel safe until he saw her.

The minutes ticked by like hours, but eventually, Georgina marched in, her stride purposeful. Her black shiny hair was neatly clipped behind her ears and her violet coat matched her stunning eyes. But Georgina’s beauty was lost on Benjamin. He was more concerned about the attack on the club.

‘Is everything in order?’ she asked as Johnny Dymond and Victor searched the premises.

‘It appears to be. I can’t work out how the person got in,’ Benjamin answered.

‘I’m taking a guess that he was locked in here last night when you closed up.’

‘Surely not? If that was the case, the fool risked burning himself to death.’

‘Some people aren’t too bright, Benjamin. There’s no other explanation.’

‘What if he returns to finish the job?’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll leave Johnny here with you today and I’ll put an extra man on the front door for the next few weeks.’

‘That puts my mind at ease. Now you’re here, can I tempt you into a glass of bubbly?’

‘No, thank you. I’d like to get back to my husband and son. By the way, tell your father that I’m sorry but I couldn’t retrieve the jewellery that Bobby stole from him though I’ve made sure he won’t get any more problems from him.’

‘I’ll tell him. Bobby was an idiot to cross you. He should have known better. Oh well, rest in peace.’

‘He’s not dead but he won’t be walking for a while. Anyway, I’m off. See you tomorrow.’

Georgina flounced off with Victor walking just ahead. The giant of a man never left her side and rarely spoke. But Benjamin knew Victor would lay his life on the line to protect Miss Garrett. He thought Johnny probably would too. She had a good team around her and though Benjamin’s life involved elements of danger, he loved the thrill of it and had come to care deeply for his incredible boss.

*

Charlotte finished the box of biscuits that Ivy had left for her, stood up, brushed off the crumbs and left the empty packet on the armchair. As much as she admired Ivy’s flat, the boredom of being cooped up inside was driving her mad. She wandered around the two rooms until her eyes fell on Ivy’s cosmetic box.

Charlotte had never worn make-up before. Her mother wouldn’t allow it. She pulled out a stool and sat in front of the dressing table mirror then rummaged through the box. Most of the colours were very vibrant, but Charlotte applied some lipstick, mascara and rouge. She looked in the mirror and pouted, admiring her reflection. Yes, a bit of make-up suited her and made her look older. But with no-one to see it, she felt her new glamorous look was wasted. She sighed deeply. It was no more fun being stuck indoors here than it was on the farm. Bugger it, she thought, and decided to take her chances outside. Anyway, so what if Georgina found her. She couldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to.

Once her mind was made, Charlotte almost ran out of the door and took the stairs down two at a time. As the evening sun hit her face, she felt liberated and seeing as she was now a grown-up, she had to refrain from skipping along the street.

Sunday early evenings were always quiet in Battersea. The shops were closed and most people would be having their weekly soak in their tin baths. Charlotte had never had that luxury growing up. She’d had to make do with a shivering strip-wash at the one tap in the scullery. She pushed thoughts of her deprived childhood from her head. That was all behind her. She was a woman now, in charge of her own destiny and didn’t care if she never saw her mother or Molly again. Charlotte had ambitions, big ideas, and wouldn’t allow her stupid mother or sister to hold her back. She wanted the good life. The glamorous one she’d seen on the silver screen. Silk evening dresses and expensive jewellery. Not rotten vegetables and mud, like on the farm.

Several streets away, as Charlotte passed a public house, she heard a deep voice call her name. She turned to see Tobias Rowland, leaning against a wall and smoking a cigarette. He wore his flat cap lopsided, which gave him a cheeky look.

‘I thought your lot had moved out of London?’ he asked and threw his half-smoked cigarette into the gutter.

‘Yeah, we have, but I’ve come back,’ Charlotte answered as she sauntered towards him.

Tobias was several years older than her. He’d been in the same class as Molly but had never spoken to Charlotte before.

‘The country air has done you good. You look nice,’ he said, looking her up and down.

‘Thanks,’ Charlotte replied and looked into his hazel eyes, noticing how good-looking he was. Then an idea began to form in her head. ‘Is your dad still the landlord of this pub?’

‘Yeah, and he’s got me working here. Says I need to earn me keep.’

‘Can you sneak us a bottle of something?’

‘Leave it out, you ain’t old enough to drink.’

‘Oh, go on. I’m not a child.’

‘I can see that,’ Tobias answered, his eyes slowly roaming over her.

‘We can share it, have a laugh.’

‘I dunno, Charlotte.’

‘Have you got anything better to do?’

‘No, I ain’t. All right then, but I’ll have to get you upstairs without me dad seeing you. Come round the back; I’ll open the door.’

At last, thought Charlotte, some excitement. She scurried round to the back of the pub where Tobias was waiting with the