Down Our Street by Lena Kennedy

Author:Lena Kennedy [Kennedy, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-04-24T23:00:00+00:00

11

East End Troubles

At first Annie had been devastated when Amy wrote to tell her that she and her family were going to settle in Canada. Illiterate, she had not been able to read the letter herself, and had had to wait several weeks before her son Billy popped in to see her. He read it to her slowly.

‘Don’t surprise me none,’ she said gloomily when he had finished, but inside she felt quite shocked. It was a surprise.

‘Sparky was in a lot of trouble, I heard,’ said Billy. ‘Those rotten sods, them crooked brothers, was after him. Some says he grassed on them, and I’d not give tuppence for his life if he did,’ said Billy.

‘Oh well,’ sighed Annie. ‘Well, now they’re all in Canada, so there’s not much I can do. And I got Sheila to fink of.’

One day a fellow in a cap and muffler came and sat next to Annie as she sat out on the green. ‘Hello, Annie,’ he said.

‘I don’t bleedin’ knows yer,’ she replied grumpily.

‘Yes, you do. I’m Siddy’s mate.’

That was like a red rag to a bull to Annie. ‘Sling yer bleedin’ ’ook!’ she yelled at him. ‘Sheila, come and give us an ’and, I’m going in.’ She pulled up her enormous bulk and waddled inside.

Poor Sheila flapped around every day after that peering outside to see if that bloke was there, because Annie said she would not go out if he was.

‘E’s a copper, I can smell ’em a mile orf,’ she said. ‘Ain’t gettin’ me ter talk. Not on yer nelly.’

Siddy had been arrested and tried. He got a suspended sentence and was now out and living in Amy’s flat. Tommy Evans had gone down for two years, but the Palmer brothers brought in a clever crooked lawyer to fight their case. He got them acquitted but they had to pay heavy fines for their part in the lorry insurance racket.

‘There is no such fing as bleedin’ justice in this bloody country,’ snorted Annie when she heard the verdict.

‘It’s just as well Amy and Sparky gor aht. The East End ain’t safe while those Palmers is still around, I assure you.’

Indeed, fear and violence continued to skulk in London’s back streets. A new generation of tough kids had grown up since the war as the gambling clubs and the strip clubs came to the fore and now a new kind of evil reared its ugly head. Once drink had been the worst problem but now it was drugs. There was a lot of money to be made so the racketeers did not care how many lives their activities might destroy. The drug trafficking began in those low-down clip clubs in the West and East End, run and organized by the big time crooks as they peddled their wares and made a fortune.

One of the victims of this racket was the young Bubbles, who Tommy Evans had set up in a nice flat in South London, with strict instructions to stay out of the East End until he had done his time.

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