‘Yeah,’ Sarah lied. ‘I have. Me and Alice Keiver have been talking about it for a while. She’s had enough in hers and I’ve had a bellyful in ours. If you don’t give me a decent bit of cash to help out Mum’s getting left on her own.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Connie taunted. She knew that Sarah and Alice were close friends. They’d bunked together before when Sarah went to live at the Keivers’ for a while. Connie had got out of The Bunk and intended never to return. She was selfish enough to leave Sarah to deal with their mother, but she wasn’t heartless. Their mother might not survive long if abandoned in that fleapit. ‘You wouldn’t dare go off ‘n’ leave her on her own,’ she repeated, less chirpily.
‘Watch me,’ Sarah challenged. ‘You and Louisa have got away with blue murder long enough. You’ve both pissed off and not even lobbed half a crown my way to help out every so often. It’s you and Louisa’s in the wrong and you know it.’
‘How much d’you want?’ Connie grabbed up her bag from the sofa and scrabbled inside. She wanted her sister to go and leave her in peace so she could numb herself with a few more gins before Mr Lucas turned up and put her to work. A handful of silver was thrust towards Sarah.
‘That’s not enough.’ Sarah cast a withering look at Connie’s fistful of coins. ‘That’s taking the piss …’ She suddenly broke off as there came a loud knock.
‘That him?’ Sarah whispered, her eyes widening in alarm.
Connie’s panic was evident in the way her head had jerked towards the door. ‘It’s too early. Anyhow he’s got a key,’ she mouthed. She took a few hesitant steps down the hall then turned to hiss, ‘Stay there, out of sight, just in case …’
Sarah did as she was told but felt lightly amused. What was Connie expecting her to do if it was the old geezer? Hide behind the couch?
‘Gawd’s sake! What is this? Piccadilly Circus or something?’
That raucous complaint from Connie drew Sarah to the doorway of the sitting room. Her spirits plummeted as she saw her sister Louisa stomping over the threshold.
‘What you doing here?’ Louisa snarled at her over Connie’s silken shoulder.
‘Could ask you the same thing,’ Sarah flung back as her shapeless lump of a sister bore down on her. She went back into the sitting room, Louisa and Connie following close behind her.
Connie planted her manicured fingers on her slender hips and cast a frustrated look heavenward. ‘Two minutes … then if yers ain’t gone willing I’m calling downstairs and having yers thrown out.’
Now her slob of a sister’s odour was fouling the atmosphere the room seemed to have lost most of its gloss. Sarah was as keen to be gone as Connie was to be rid of her. But she wanted what she’d come for: a decent sum of money and a promise of more in the future. Considering the lifestyle Connie now had Sarah knew she’d be a mug to settle for less than a fiver today.
Connie must have got downwind of her fat sister too for she wrinkled her nose and wafted a hand in front of her face. ‘’Struth! How long since you had a bath, Lou?’
‘What’s she doing here?’ Louisa ignored the implication that she stank. Her greasy head jabbed forward to indicate Sarah.
‘She’s come for money and she wants some off you ‘n’ all. Ain’t that right, Sar?’ Connie elevated her plucked eyebrows, her expression mischievous. ‘She’s going to move in with Alice Keiver and leave Mum to fend for herself if we don’t chip in.’
If Connie had been expecting Louisa to immediately cut up rough she was to be disappointed. Louisa looked Sarah up and down. ‘You ‘n’ Alice in love?’
‘What?’ Sarah frowned in startled incomprehension.
‘She thinks you might be queer … like she is,’ Connie explained whilst picking at a frayed fingernail. She glanced up and snorted back a laugh. Sarah’s dawning comprehension was slowly transforming her youthful features in to a mask of utter revulsion. ‘Well, let’s face it, no bloke was ever going to fancy her, was he?’
‘Give us a fiver and I’ll get going. For now.’ Sarah extended a palm. She quickly moved towards the door.
‘Ain’t got a fiver.’
On hearing that both Sarah and Louisa cast on Connie an extremely old-fashioned look. All things considered it seemed like a blatant lie.
‘It’s true,’ Connie exclaimed. ‘I don’t have much money.’ She whirled a hand about at the lavish surroundings. ‘None of this is mine, is it? I have to get everything I want on his accounts; clothes, make-up, grub. Even the bleedin’ hair-dresser sends him in a bill. Don’t think he trusts me with me own money. He’s a tight fist with his cash.’
‘Thought he were a nice old stick.’ Sarah sarcastically reminded Connie of her recent praise for Mr Lucas.
‘He’s not bad as punters go,’ Louisa butted in. ‘Plenty worse’n him.’
‘How d’you know?’ Sarah demanded. Her eyes veered between her sisters. ‘How does she know?’ she asked Connie, bewildered. ‘You introduced her to Mr Lucas?’
A snort of mock horror erupted from Connie. ‘He ain’t never seen her, thank Gawd, but she knows punters alright. Her lady friend’s on the game up west.’
A sullen stare from Louisa met that sly dig at her love life and her employment as a pimp.
‘So what you after this time?’ Connie asked Louisa. ‘And if it’s money you can sod off along with her.’ She flicked her head at Sarah.
‘Want a decent dress ter borrer if you’ve got one going spare.’
Sarah stuffed a fist to her mouth to stifle her spontaneous hilarity. ‘You’ll never squeeze in Con’s dresses, you silly fat mare.’
‘Ain’t fer me, is it?’ Louisa snarled, her face contorting in rage and her fists clenching. ‘It’s for me friend, Sonia. She’s got a special on tonight and needs to look the part.’ Louisa knew that a ruckus in Connie’s lovely sitting room was out of the question. She visibly made an effort to control herself and turned her back on Sarah.
‘Sonia?’ Sarah echoed. Inwardly she digested that Sonia must be Louisa’s lady friend who tonight had a special punter to entertain.
Sarah hadn’t seen or heard from Louisa in many months. And that was the way she liked it. They might be sisters but Sarah was quite sure she hated the ugly slob. She’d been on the receiving end of most of Louisa’s bullying over the years. Connie was closer to Louisa in age and had been able to give back almost as good as she got. And that was encouraged in Bunk kids. It was their duty, as far as their parents were concerned, to stick up for themselves. It was especially true when family pride was at stake and they were expected to win scraps with neighbours’ kids. Children were often to be seen being dragged up or down the street by their elders to confront an opponent and settle an argument with their fists in full view of an appreciative audience. Louisa and Lenny, God rest his soul, had been their father’s pride and joy in that respect.
‘Give us the cash so’s I can get on me way,’ Sarah pleaded.
‘Christ’s sake! How times I got to say I don’t have a fiver!’ Connie automatically reached for her glass, forgetting it was empty. She banged it down on the table again in frustration. ‘Here! Have something to take down the pawnshop. But you’d better make sure it comes back sharp.’ She twisted about, eyes darting here and there, then snatched up a figurine from the mantelshelf and thrust it at Sarah.
Sarah contemptuously waggled the shepherdess in her hand. ‘That’s no good! How much is it worth?’ She studied the porcelain more carefully.
‘I dunno,