Jessie Keane - Lawless

Reg waited in the car and she stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell. The door swung inward. Instantly the sound of hammering and drilling was louder. Betsy stood there in white high-heeled mules, a filmy turquoise beach cover-up that clearly showed a bikini beneath. She was holding onto a lunging German shepherd by its rhinestone-studded collar. The dog was wagging its tail madly.

‘Jesus, it is you,’ said Betsy. Seeing the direction of Ruby’s gaze, she shrugged. ‘Just got out of the pool. I like a swim in the evening.’

And there she was, Ruby’s friend from when they were kids, Ruby’s best friend in those days – before she became attached to Betsy’s older sister Vi when they worked together at the Windmill Theatre.

Straight out of the pool or not, Betsy was wearing a lot of make-up, an extremely deep tan and a very expensive tiger-striped blonde hairdo. Her eyes were pale blue and still fiercely acquisitive, her mouth open in a fake smile that revealed a set of startlingly white crowns. Ruby could feel Betsy’s eyes moving up and down her body, assessing her shape and itemizing the value and the brand of every bit of clothing she wore.

No change here then , thought Ruby.

Life was one long bitching contest to Betsy, it always had been. Whatever anyone else had, Betsy wanted it – only bigger and better. It drove her crazy that her sister Vi had married into the aristocracy, outdoing her in the marriage stakes.

‘Yeah, it’s me. Thought I’d pop in.’

‘What, after all this time?’

‘Kit told me Joe’s not well.’

Betsy’s lip curled. ‘He never fucking is, these days. I suppose you’d better come in. Prince, basket. ’

The dog dived obediently for its basket at the side of the hall.

‘Come on. He’s in the conservatory, he lives in there, loves it,’ Betsy threw back over her shoulder as she sashayed through the hall and into the big glass structure at the rear of the property. As they passed the kitchen, Betsy flashed her fake glittery smile that way. A scene of apparent devastation greeted Ruby; all the units had been ripped out and as she glanced in there, the integral oven was being lobbed out the door onto the terrace by two burly men.

‘I’m having the kitchen refitted,’ said Betsy with a triumphant smirk. ‘Walnut units this time; nice and tasteful.’

Ruby didn’t comment; she knew of old that Betsy had the decorators in every six months, that she was never satisfied with any improvement to her property for very long. Ruby thought of her own small Victorian villa, a far less opulent place than this, but infinitely more homely.

‘Here’s a visitor for you,’ said Betsy, and Ruby entered the conservatory.

In amongst the scrambling bougainvillea, the grapevine and the datura with its big peachy trumpet flowers, sat Joe. It was hot in here, and the darkness outside seemed to press in against the glass.

God, he’d changed! Ruby couldn’t believe that big, beefy Joe, once the scourge of the East End with brother Charlie at his side, had come to this. Now he looked thin, like the flesh was hanging off him. His features were gaunt, but his eyes were the same, a warm brown above the oxygen mask he had clamped to his face. But they had a frail and frightened expression in them that broke Ruby’s heart.

‘Joe?’ she whispered, hardly believing it.

‘Ruby!’ he let out a rasping breath.

She was looking at the oxygen mask, the tubes, the bottle at the side of his chair.

‘Hello, Joe.’ Trying to hide her shock, Ruby came forward. Hesitantly she dropped a kiss onto his thin cheek, and pulled up a chair.

‘Hello, girl. You all right then?’ he asked, clasping her hand in one of his. It was icy cold and she nearly flinched away.

‘I’m fine. Kit told me you’re not well, so I’ve come to see you.’

Joe gave her an ironic look. ‘Fuckin’ bastard, innit? I’m dyin’ on my feet here.’

‘Emphysema,’ chimed in Betsy. ‘It’s them bloody fags, rolling his own all those years. Too much fucking Old Holborn, that’s what this is.’

‘And all this noise going on,’ complained Joe.

‘They got to make a noise,’ said Betsy. ‘They’re fitting a kitchen, for God’s sake.’

‘Yeah? Well go and make them some tea – lazy gits have only had ten cups so far today, may as well stand them another. Make us some too, while you’re at it.’

Betsy flounced off to the kitchen. After a couple of seconds they heard her tinkling laughter mingling with men’s voices and the crashing, crunching sounds of the kitchen being pulled inside out.

‘She always was a bloody flirt,’ said Joe. ‘Sauntering about the fuckin’ place with her arse hanging out and all those blokes in the sodding kitchen. Thinks I don’t know, I suppose. Or don’t give a shit if I do.’

‘How you feeling, Joe?’ asked Ruby.

‘Fuckin’ awful – how do I look?’ Joe let the oxygen mask drop to his blanketed lap and gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Does me good to see you though, Rubes. Keepin’ all right?’

‘Fine.’

‘Glad one of us is. Not too long now, there I’ll be – sitting on an effing cloud along with Charlie.’

‘Don’t say that.’

A fresh peal of laughter came floating through from the kitchen.

‘Why not? It’s the truth. And I’m not sorry. Had a goodish life, really. Only one real regret… and you know what that is?’

‘No,’ said Ruby. ‘Go on, tell me.’

Joe cocked his head toward the kitchen. ‘Aside from the fags? My one regret is that I wasted my time marrying that selfish cow.’

‘Joe…’ She didn’t want to hear this. Ruby had always known that Joe could have done better for himself but she had hoped, up until this moment, that he was at least moderately happy in his marriage. It hurt her to see that he was not.

‘Come on, Rubes, you know it’s true. I was always second-best for Betsy, wasn’t I? It was always Charlie for her. When he got sent down after the mail-van job, she settled for me.’

‘Joe, come on…’

‘What you mean, “come on”? I’m speaking the truth here. Drove me nuts for years, she did, saying why didn’t I go and get my cut of the robbery – money-grubbing bitch. Currency changed, see, times changed. This is how she has her revenge on me, spendin’ my fuckin’ money non-stop.’ Joe’s watery eyes grew distant. ‘Poor old Charlie, eh? He got done good and proper. It broke him you know, all that time in stir. He was never the same man after that. And then he steps out in the road drunk, and some fucker ploughs in, and that’s him finished. Well, now I’m finished too.’ Joe heaved a sigh. ‘Could have got myself a nice warm woman, could have had my pick, they were all after me. Lord of the streets, I was. Not now, though. Too late.’

‘How’re the kids?’ asked Ruby. It was an easier subject than Betsy and everything that had gone before. It was all old stuff, dead stuff, it didn’t matter. While Ruby had been minding the shop, Charlie and Joe had taken to a career as criminals; she’d always known that there wouldn’t be a happy ending to their saga.

‘Nadine’s getting the hump with everyone. Ten years old and already you can see she’s her mother’s daughter. Billy’s a real live wire. It’s bad for them, seeing me like this. Thank Christ they’re at boarding school, takes them out of the way most of the time.’

‘I’m sorry, Joe.’

‘Good to see you though, girl. You’re a tonic. Now where’s that cow with the bloody tea…?’

When Ruby got back to Marlow, there was a familiar car waiting on the drive. The Jag’s headlights swept over it, showing Thomas Knox standing by the bonnet. Ruby felt her heartbeat pick up in panic, felt a wave of revulsion engulf her. He wasn’t going to let this go.