The Locksmith by Linda Calvey (reading in the dark .TXT) 📕

to find George being given his night-time bottle by Bobby in the lounge. Her brother’s face was still pale. He looked up as she entered the room. Ruby knew her face was flushed, her heart still raced, yet she felt calmer now, back in control.

‘I got the money. Freddie’s bringin’ it tonight.’

‘You what? Are ya mad? Freddie knows some big-time villains. You don’t know what you’re messin’ with, Rube.’ It was Bobby’s turn to hiss at her.

Ruby didn’t look away. She knew Freddie Harris was rotten to the core, but she also guessed that he had no real friends in the criminal underworld. He was too dodgy, too stupid, to be a player. She was betting everything on him being the loser that she’d always thought he was.

‘Believe me. Bobby, he’s comin’ ’ere tonight with the cash. Five thousand nicker.’ Even though her confidence had begun to drain away, Ruby tried to appear certain. Now she was back home, she couldn’t believe she’d done what she’d done.

Bobby looked stunned. George stopped gulping, eyed up Ruby and smiled, emptying the contents of his gummy mouth onto Bobby’s hoodie.

Bobby sighed, not for the first time that day. ‘’Ere, take George, will ya? I’m goin’ to get changed, and get me head round all this. You’ve done somethin’ there, Ruby. You don’t know how this is goin’ to pan out,’ he said as he departed.

Ruby was left in the sitting room, holding her baby brother, his warm milky scent made her smile, bringing her back to her reality and family life. She kissed his forehead and he smiled back, kicking his little feet in happiness at seeing her. ‘I wouldn’t let anything or anybody harm ya. I’ll sort out those nasty men, oh yes I will, even if Bobby don’t believe I can do it,’ she said softly. Little George’s fingers curled around hers as he gurgled with the sheer joy of seeing his big sister and hearing her voice.

Ruby smiled back at him. She searched her heart, yet she couldn’t find any regret at challenging Freddie the way she had. They had to stand up for themselves or every villain round there would think they were a soft touch and try it on. That’s if they did any more jobs.

‘Everythin’ I do is for you, little one,’ she crooned, bringing the bottle back to his lips and watching as he sucked contentedly. Once she’d burped him and read a storybook about baby ducks to him, he yawned and she realised it was time to put him down for the night. Her heart swelled as she lay him down in his soft, clean cot and sang him an old Romany song, which her Grandad Jim had taught her as a child.

She drew the curtains, smiling to herself as she sang, remembering how Grandad Jim had always replaced the words so he sang ‘green-eyed baby’ to her as a child. She murmured the words quietly now until George’s eyelids drooped and he fell fast asleep.

Downstairs, Bobby was in the lounge reading the paper again. His face was still pale. He looked shocked as he read. ‘Makes it real . . .’ he said haltingly.

Ruby nodded. She’d felt that too upon seeing the headline, but her feelings had soon been overtaken by the rage that followed.

Just then, there was a knock on the front door.

Bobby stood up. ‘I’ll get it,’ he said, taking charge this time. Ruby stayed silent. What would happen now? Would Freddie hand over the cash, or were they about to find out what happens to people who defy the local crooks? Anyone could be out there. Freddie could’ve called in a few favours. He might not have been lying about his big-time contacts. The next few seconds would reveal what they were up against. Ruby braced herself, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable. ‘Don’t harm George, just leave the baby alone,’ she whispered to nobody but herself.

She heard Bobby open the door. She stared at the clock ticking on the mantelpiece, constant, slow. She swallowed. Her hands went cold, her throat dry. There were murmurs from the doorway then the sound of the door shutting and being bolted from the inside, something they rarely ever did.

Ruby stood up, her head swimming. Bobby walked back in. Without saying a word, he handed her an envelope; a thick brown envelope. She opened it, half expecting it to go off in her face.

Inside was a stash of notes. She pulled the wad from its container, gingerly. What did she expect? Would Freddie poison them or give them fake money? She checked a couple of the notes against the overhead light. She saw they were real. Hands trembling for the second time that day, she started to count. Ruby looked up at Bobby. A shadow seemed to fall across his face but perhaps it was a trick of the light. They shared a look of disbelief, which changed rapidly to wonder.

‘It’s all there . . .’ she said. A smile began to form on her face. They’d done it. She’d done it.

Bobby looked down at the notes, then back up to Ruby. ‘What ’ave ya started?’

Ruby looked at him, her love for Bobby, George and her mum filling her up, making her feel like weeping where she stood. ‘We ’ave to hide this. Mum can’t know,’ she said, handing the money to Bobby.

‘It would kill her,’ he replied.

‘I know, Bobby, but we ’ave to think of little George now. It’s all down to us.’

‘But what about everythin’ Mum and Dad taught us? What about goin’ straight, livin’ an honest life?’ Bobby sounded like a young boy, not the strapping man he had become.

Ruby sighed. Why didn’t her brother see it? ‘That life is gone, Bobby, it’s gone. From now on, we work together. I make the deals and you do the jobs. If we play this right, if we’re choosy and pick our targets carefully, then we’ll never ’ave to worry about money ever again. We’re foolin’ ourselves if we