Dangerous Lady Read Online Free Page B

little walk.’ Looking around the table at the other men, Michael Pointed at Tommy.
     
    ‘I’ll be waiting outside for you.’
    Turning, he pushed his way to the door. Outside he leant against the wall of the pub. He bit on his lip, the feeling of excitement in his breast causing his heart beat to pound in his ears.
    A group of Salvation Army singers were making their way along the road. Pulling a pack of Strands from his pocket, Michael lit one. The strains of ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ gradually grew closer. He pulled hard on the cigarette. He would give Tommy Blue five minutes before going in after him.
    Inside the Bramley Arms, Tommy was rooted to his seat.
    ‘How much do you owe, Tom?’ This from Dustbin Daley, a totter from Shepherd’s Bush.
    ‘Forty-five quid.’ Tommy’s voice was low.
    One of his companions whistled.
    ‘I’d better get out there … otherwise he’ll come in after me.’ Getting up unsteadily, Tommy made his way to the door.
    Dustbin Daley shook his head. ‘He must be bloody mad.’
    The others agreed with him. Their earlier high spirits were gone now, out of the door with Tommy Blue.
    Tommy shivered as the cold hit him. He was wearing a thin jacket, torn in places, and a thick multi-coloured scarf.
    Michael threw his cigarette on the slush-filled pavement, and ground it out with his boot. Pushing himself from the wall he grabbed Tommy’s jacket and pulled him along the road. The Salvationists were alongside them. A young girl pushed a tin in their direction. She smiled at Michael as she rattled it.
    ‘Merry Christmas, sir.’ Her eyes held open admiration.
    Pulling his coat open, he pushed his hand into his
    trouser pocket, and taking out two half crowns dropped them into the tin. The girl flushed with pleasure.
    ‘Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas.’
    Nodding at her, Michael resumed piloting Tommy Blue along the pavement. The tambourines and the singing faded into the distance. The two men walked in silence for. five minutes. Tommy Blue could not feel the cold now. He couldn’t feel anything. Fear had completely taken over. Tommy Blue was on automatic pilot. All he could do was wait. The beer he had been drinking steadily all day was now weighing heavily on his stomach.
    Michael slowed down in Treadgold Street. The laundry here was known affectionately as the bagwash. Michael himself had brought his mother’s laundry here on many occasions. Now it was deserted, shut up for the Christmas holidays. Taking a key from inside his coat Michael opened the double doors of the building and pushed Tommy inside. Pulling the doors shut behind him, he turned on the lights. Tommy stood immobile.
    Taking out his pack of Strands, Michael lit one slowly. He pulled deeply on the cigarette and blew the smoke into Tommy’s face.
    ‘You’ve made me very cross.’ As usual Michael’s voice was quiet.
    Tommy’s face seemed to come to life. He blinked his eyes rapidly.
    ‘Look, Mickey, I …I tried to get the money. I swear it!’
    ‘Shut up, Tommy. You’re beginning to annoy me.’
    Dropping the cigarette he grabbed Tommy’s scarf, forcing him backwards until he was against one of the huge machines. Bringing his right fist back over his shoulder he punched Tommy in the face with considerable force. Tommy’s nose seemed to collapse underneath the blow. Michael let him drop on the filthy floor. Groaning,
     
    Tommy curled himself up into a ball, his hands covering his head. Michael kicked him in the back, the force of the blow sending Tommy across the dirt-strewn floor. Picking up one of the large wooden podgers the women used to push down the bagwashes, Michael prodded Tommy the shoulder.
    ‘Hold out your arm.’ Michael’s voice held no emotion whatsoever. Tommy was blubbering.
    ‘Please … please, Mickey, I’m begging you.’ He looked
    up at Michael, his face bloody and awash with tears
    ‘Don’t do this …1 swear I’ll ge-get the money somehow.’
    Kicking him in the legs,