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Back The Dazzle of the Light Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Praise for Georgina Clarke
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. Historical Note
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. Also by Georgina Clarke
  54. About the Author
  55. Copyright

‘I’ll have customers queuing if I don’t return to the shop.’

‘I should go, too.’

He pauses, so close to her that the smell of his pomade hits the back of her throat. She tries not to breathe as he touches her, caresses her face. He drags a fingernail down her cheek and over her mouth.

‘We’ll have to discuss terms, percentages of the sale and such like, another time.’ The long nail grazes her lower lip. ‘I’ll look forward to that.’

‘Yeah, of course, Ray…’ She puts a hand on his chest. She can’t afford to push him away but wants to keep him at a distance. It’s a good thing that she chose a busy time to visit.

20

20

Saturday evening

The Borough stinks tonight. The light easterly wind carries the rancid stench of the Bermondsey tanneries to Ruby’s nostrils. It layers the scent of rotting excrement and the pungent, sulphurous smell of a brewery’s wastewater that blow down the High Street whatever the wind direction.

She tries to remember the rich fragrance that pervades the ground floor of Debenham and Freebody or Selfridges, and the bottles of French perfume that one might sniff and dab on one’s skin. Or the warm smell of the fur coats she has wrapped around her shoulders in those stores while pretending that she has means to purchase such luxuries.

Someone is cooking smoked haddock and cabbage. The whole street is eating fish tonight.

She has spent the day wandering the stores over the river, venturing into places she doesn’t usually go hoisting, buying a few items – a handbag, some cosmetics, perfume, silk underwear – and stopping to have lunch. Now she is cleaned out of cash again.

There has been no word from Raymond Calladine. He hasn’t sent a message to say that he has sold her watch. It’s Saturday. He’s only had the piece since Wednesday, but she’d hoped that he might have found someone. She wants the money – even if it means she will have to go to bed with him. The prospect of it makes her feel sick, but she knows that’s the price he’ll demand, as well as his share of the sale, the vile bastard.

She pushes on the heavy door of the Crown and surveys the saloon. Billy is sitting with Charlie Wagstaff, in deep discussion about something. Horses, probably. Charlie is sporting a black eye. It’s worse than Billy’s. Looks like he might have broken his nose, too. She scowls at them both when Billy raises his head and makes her way over to the far end of the room, where some of the Forties have gathered, collecting a gin on the way. It’s a far cry from the champagne she drank with Peter Lazenby.

Edith shuffles along to create a small amount of room for her on the settle.