The Exciting Life (5 page)

‘
I’m sure you’ll be a very big star.’ He stuck out his hand.
‘Patrick Collins.’

‘
Iris Lindholm. Pleased to meet you.’

He held
her hand for a little too long, and she was sure he gave it a
little squeeze. Then Annie suddenly appeared beside him, putting
her hand on his shoulder and Patrick quickly let Iris’s hand
go.

‘
Hello Iris,’ she said. ‘Where’s Arthur?’

‘
Asleep in a booth,’ Iris quipped.

‘
Oh what a shame. I wanted to ask him if he had any plans for a
new play.’

‘
Who’s Arthur?’ Patrick asked.

‘
Arthur Hatfield,’ Annie said. ‘He’s a famous playwright. He’s
Iris’s boyfriend.’

‘
Boyfriend?’ Patrick said, and as he looked at Iris, she was
sure she could see a hint of either irritation or regret in his
eyes.

‘
Friend, really,’ she replied. ‘I look good on his
arm.’

‘
You’d look good on anyone’s arm,’ Patrick said.

Someone
called his name from the other side of the room, and with a sigh,
he picked up Iris’s hand and kissed it.

‘
It was a pleasure Miss Lindholm,’ he said, and he walked away.
Dave also sloped off somewhere, leaving the two women
alone.

‘
I saw you in Woman’s Own with your Aunt,’ Iris said. ‘I still
love watching Alicia Bloom films on the television of a Sunday
afternoon.’

‘
She thought she’d do the interview with me to help promote my
new venture,’ Annie giggled.

Iris
looked down at the black velvet stilettos Annie was
wearing.

‘
Did you make them?’

‘
These?’ She briefly lifted her left foot up. ‘Oh no. Mario
bought these for me in New York.’

Did he now?
Iris thought. Bitter at
the fact that Annie had been all over the world and had done so
many things, and yet she was only two years older than
her.

‘
Well they’re lovely. I wish you could make me a pair of
shoes.’

‘
I’ve not had any orders yet. I’m still renovating my building.
But when I’ve finished, I’ll make you a pair.’

Iris
gave a theatrical laugh.

‘
I wouldn’t be able to afford them!’

‘
Well I’ll need showroom models. Why don’t you drop by in a
month or so and we’ll see what’s happening.’

‘
Do you mean that?’ Iris gasped, making sure she sounded really
grateful.

‘
Yes, why not? Maybe you could persuade Arthur to write another
play in return.’

‘
I’ll do my best.’

‘
Fabulous. Well, I’ve got to mingle. I’ll see you soon
Iris.’

‘
Thank you Annie.’

Annie
smiled and walked off and Iris clenched her fists in victory. Step
one of her mission was complete.

She
returned to the booth to find Arthur still slumped to one side,
asleep. Iris slid into the booth beside him, and shook his shoulder
to wake him up.

‘
Wake up Arthur,’ she said. ‘Please, wake up.’

He
grumbled and looked at her, his eyes wandering.

‘
Where am I?’ he asked.

‘
In a nightclub. I’ve got a headache, I want to go
home.’

‘
Okay,’ he said, nodding off again. ‘I’ll stay here, I’m having
such a lovely evening.’

Iris
left him to it and walked through the club, to the exit. Just as
she was about to approach the guy who’d taken her coat, she felt a
tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Patrick standing
there. That cheeky smile on his face.

‘
Where’s the boyfriend?’ he asked.

‘
Asleep in the booth,’ she replied.

‘
And you’re leaving him?’

‘
I’ve got a headache.’

‘
You got far to go?’

‘
South of the river.’

‘
Whereabouts?’

‘
Streatham.’

‘
You got your coat?’

‘
It’s a fur wrap. It’s red.’

‘
Hang on.’

He went
into the cloakroom and came back out with her wrap. He passed it to
her, then cocked his head, indicating for her to follow him. She
did so, up the steps to the pavement. Patrick strode ahead and led
her into an alleyway, where a couple of big, black cars were
parked. Iris felt adrenaline start to pump through her body. Where
was he taking her? What did he have planned? He walked up to one of
the cars and the driver wound down the window. Patrick bent down to
speak to him.

‘
You alright guv?’ the driver asked in a brash cockney
accent.

‘
Take the lady home will you Denny?’ Patrick asked. He stood
back up and looked at Iris.

‘
I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon,’ he said.

‘
I’m sure you will,’ she replied enigmatically. ‘Thank you for
this.’

Those
piercing green eyes surveyed her as he sucked hard on his
cigarette.

‘
I can’t have a lovely lady such as you wandering the streets
of Streatham alone can I?’ he said.

‘
I suppose not,’ she said. ‘Once again, thank you.’

She got
into the back of the car and Patrick stood and watched them drive
off. Iris gave a demure wave and sat back, feeling a little rocked
by what had happened. She had met a hundred and one Patrick Collins
in her lifetime. The slightly posh accent and good quality clothes
didn’t mean a thing. He was a wide boy, and at a guess he was
either Annie Holland’s bit of rough, or he had some vested interest
in the club. But there was something about him that had got to her.
He was exciting and gorgeous, and she got the feeling he wasn’t put
off by the type of girl she was. Men like that didn’t come along
often.

‘
You a friend of Patrick’s?’ the driver asked, glancing at her
in the rear view mirror.

‘
No, we only just met tonight. Does he work for Annie
Holland?’

‘
Works with her more like. She might own it, but Pat calls the
shots.’

‘
Been in business together long?’

‘
The club used to belong to his old man, Bernie. But Bernie
lost it in a card game to Mario Stefani, the racing driver. When
old Mario snuffed it, Bernie wanted the club back, but Annie
weren’t gonna budge. So her and Pat drew up a bargain. He puts a
couple of blokes on the door and she gets to play Mein
Hostess.’

‘
Anything going on between them?’

‘
Nah. No woman can pin Pat down.’

‘
Glad to hear it,’ Iris purred. ‘A man like that shouldn’t be
tamed.’

Chapter Four

March
1959

Annie
thought of all the places she’d rather be than sitting across a
table from Kenneth, his face like thunder, looking at his watch and
fidgeting. After months spent in Newcastle, supervising the
construction of the new Tanner Beresford homes, he was back in
London and Annie thought they could spend some time together by
having a meal and a catch up. She’d even chosen Alexander’s in
Leicester Square to suit his tastes. It was a rather austere place
that hadn’t seemed to move on from the war. The décor was basic and
the menu consisted of traditional English foods – nothing French or
Italian, which was increasingly the fashionable thing to go for.
Annie found the rabbit stew she’d ordered quite revolting, and it
was made even more unpalatable by looking at Kenneth in a
sulk.

‘
Do you realise how many people we could have housed in that
hotel?’ he finally said, pushing his plate away. Although Annie
couldn’t blame him – the haddock pie he’d ordered looked
horrendous. It was shame that Kenneth was always so angry. He was
such a handsome man. He was much fairer than Annie. His hair was
dark blonde, his eyes blue. As children, whenever they’d met
strangers, people would presume Kenneth was Nesta’s son. He had the
same fair hair and high cheekbones. When Annie was a teenager, she
would bring friends home from school for the holidays, and they
would often do all they could to get Kenneth’s attention, or blush
whenever he spoke to them. But it would go totally un-noticed. Now
as a grown man, women would look at him, but as far as Annie knew,
he’d kept his vow of chastity – even though he wasn’t a priest; and
she presumed that at twenty-seven, he was still a virgin. Maybe if
he had some sex, he’d calm down a bit.

‘
Aunt Alice gave the place to me,’ she sighed. ‘I can’t rely on
Bruno’s forever. We’re getting visits from Maltese gangsters on a
daily basis, all wanting to take it over. It’s only a matter of
time before someone does us some damage.’

‘
If you sold to Tanner Beresford, you’d have enough money to
set yourself up somewhere else.’

‘
I don’t want to set myself up somewhere else! You don’t have
to take over the world Kenneth. I know there are lots of people out
there needing homes and it’s very commendable you want to help each
and every one of them. But there are also people out there earning
money, who want nice shoes, and I want to make them for
them.’

‘
But what are you going to do if it doesn’t work out? You’ve
had Uncle Michael’s trust fund all in one go. You’ll have no money
left.’

‘
Well I’ll just have to go on the game won’t I?’ Annie
snapped.

She
spotted something out the corner of her eye – a familiar head of
blonde hair. She looked up and found Iris walking towards her.
Annie groaned inwardly. As much as she tried to like Iris, and
indeed she still intended to keep her promise and take her on as a
model when Holland’s opened, she was beginning to get sick of her.
She was always around. Now that she and Patrick were an item, she
was always at Bruno’s, and having to stand back and watch them
smooching, the insane jealousy Annie felt would make her hate
herself for being petty.

‘
Hello Iris,’ she smiled, as she came closer to the table.
She’d changed since that first night in the club. That long, tarty,
platinum hair had been cut to chin-length and set in a wave. Her
make-up was more subtle and Patrick had obviously bought her a lot
of smart shift dresses. She actually looked like a lady
now.

‘
I was just passing by and I spotted you. I thought I’d come in
and say hello.’

‘
Iris, this is my brother Kenneth,’ Annie said. ‘Kenneth, this
is Iris Lindholm. She’s going to be one of my models.’

‘
Pleased to meet you Miss Lindholm,’ Kenneth said, briefly
shaking her hand. ‘Won’t you please join us?’

Without
hesitation, Iris pulled out a chair and sat down. In a way, Annie
was glad of the distraction. At least it would put a stop to
Kenneth’s lecturing.

‘
Have you been shopping?’ she asked, noticing Iris had a
carrier bag from Dickens and Jones.

‘
Yes. Patrick’s taking me to L’Escargot tomorrow night, so I
thought I’d better buy something new to wear.’

‘
So, how did you two meet?’ Kenneth asked, and Annie was
shocked to see he was making an effort to smile at Iris.

‘
Iris came into the club,’ Annie said. ‘I thought she’d make a
great model. Now she’s going out with Patrick, my business
partner.’

‘
You run a charity don’t you?’ Iris asked Kenneth.

‘
Yes. My Aunt founded Tanner Beresford with a man called Henry
Beresford. He was killed in the war, and it was left to Aunt Nesta
to run it, and when she had a stroke a couple of years ago, I took
it over.’

‘
There was a Tanner Beresford block near to where I grew up,’
Iris said, and Annie found this interesting – she rarely spoke
about her childhood.

‘
Where was that?’ Kenneth asked.

‘
Cricklewood,’ she replied, rather sheepishly. Obviously
embarrassed at this faux par – letting them know she wasn’t as
well-to-do as she liked to appear. ‘It was all a very long time
ago.’

‘
We now have homes in every major city,’ Kenneth said proudly.
‘We could have more if my sister wasn't so selfish.’

Annie
bristled at this. It was bad enough that Iris had snatched Patrick
from under her nose, before she'd decided whether she wanted to go
out with him or not. Now she had to listen to Kenneth belittling
her.

‘
Kenneth, don’t embarrass Iris,’ Annie said. ‘She doesn’t want
to know our business.’

‘
Of course,’ he said, smiling at Iris. ‘I’m very sorry. So
you’re a model? A very exciting job I would imagine.’

‘
It has its moments,’ she replied. ‘Although it’s not a
worthwhile job like yours.’

‘
Thank you. I don’t know if Annie has told you this, but we
were born in the slums of Battersea. I think it’s our duty to give
something back. We were very lucky to be taken in by the Holland’s.
If we hadn’t, who knows what would have happened to us.’

‘
That’s such a nice sentiment,’ Iris gushed, laying her hand
upon Kenneth’s arm. Annie watched her brother tense – he hated
physical contact. ‘There should be more people like
you.’

‘
So what did you buy?’ Annie asked, changing the
subject.