Briony stood up and walked with Benedict to get the ice cream. He held on to her arm and they chatted together. Sally watched them go with fear in her heart.

‘It’s not a good idea, Mr Lane. He’s at an age when he’ll talk about things, in company like.’

Tommy lit himself a cheroot and shook his head in dismissal. ‘Who gives a fuck. Certainly not me, love. She’s every right to see him if she wants.’

Sally kept quiet but the thought scared her.

Briony and Benedict chatted together and enjoyed themselves. Briony listened to all his boyish talk and drank it inside herself. Benedict, guessing he had a sympathetic ear, poured out all his doings, good and bad, with a fervour.

When he was walking home with Sally later in the day he said, ‘I don’t think I’ll mention the nice lady to Mama, she’d think she was a bit common. But I liked her, didn’t you, Sal?’

Sally smiled in relief.

‘I think you’re right there, young Master Ben. Your ma or your pa wouldn’t like her one bit. But we can keep her friendship our secret can’t we?’

‘Do you think we’ll ever see her again, Sal?’ He stroked the dog’s coat as it walked beside him.

‘Oh, yes, young Benedict, I have a feeling we’ll see her again. - In fact, I can guarantee it.’

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Briony liked Mariah and liked the way she ran her houses. Both women were fighters and survivors which gave them a bond, something neither had expected. But now they owned just about every house in London between them, they were also adversaries. Although both worked their respective patches it was only natural that they would at certain times poach one another’s girls or customers. It was an unwritten rule of business.

Mariah wanted to cement their newfound friendship with something tangible. Not just because she liked Briony, though she liked her a lot, but because Briony’s newfound status with Tommy Lane also made her a threat in certain ways. If push ever came to shove, Briony could take what was Mariah’s at the drop of a hat. She was certain that Briony was too straight and fair for such skulduggery, but there was nothing in Mariah’s book like an insurance policy. A guarantee. Which was the reason Briony was sitting in her house now, with a cup of tea and a slice of Battenberg.

Briony wiped her sticky fingers on a napkin and grinned at Mariah amiably. Her afternoon with Benedict had made her happy with the whole world.

‘Now then, we’ve had the tea and cake, you’ve offered me a stiff drink, which I declined, and we’ve run out of chit-chat. So come on then, girl, spit it out, what’s the rub?’

Mariah laughed with her.