Francesca, page 5
Candy, on the other hand, didn’t like the strict ways. You weren’t allowed to work for anyone else; you were exclusive. Yet that didn’t stop her sneaking off back to the East End pubs. She said she liked being able to do as she pleased—a big fish in a small pond.
I figured Sharon knew what she was up to, because Candy’s shifts got fewer and fewer, until eventually she was down to two shifts a week.
I was able to buy Bobby new clothes and toys, not just stuff from charity shops. I was able to take him out to theme parks and pay off my debts at long last. When I looked in the mirror, I saw someone else. I was tanned and slim. My hair was shiny because of all the oil serum the girls showed me to use so that my wavy hair hung into ringlets down my back. I doubted Luke would even recognise me now. After all, I didn’t recognise myself!
It was also handy for me that we had proper changing rooms with lockers. This meant I could leave Chris babysitting in my normal clothes and get ready at the club. Apart from the way I looked, nothing had changed.
There were two clubs and you alternated between the two just a couple of streets away. This too suited me. I liked not driving around from pub to pub. Although the pubs had been very good to me and I still kept in touch with some of the publicans I had known, I kept my head down and abided by the rules. We were known as the ‘Lambrianu girls’.
None of us ever met Mr Lambrianu. Sometimes I doubted there was one, although I did hear from some of the others who had worked there a long time that his base was the casino nightclub away from all of this. This was a bigger, more exclusive place.
Some of the other girls had boob jobs and the odd Botox to try and keep them looking younger than their years, but everyone knew there was a retirement age. I was okay for now, still in my twenties, and able to open a savings account for that rainy day to come.
A year had come and gone, and Bobby was just about ready for primary school. How time had passed. My beautiful baby was now a young boy.
The ‘Boss’, as Mr Lambrianu was referred to, always held a great big party at the end of the year for all of his workers, and even a few of the VIP customers were invited.
This apparently was a grand occasion, and even the hard-faced bouncer, who I knew quite well by now, looked forward to it.
I had booked the Christmas off and, as usual, was going home to my mam’s. I had been able to send her more money now to ease things. She had a new boyfriend now. What she told me about him didn’t exactly make me warm to him. But who was I to judge? She worked hard long hours in a packing factory, so having a boyfriend to take her out now and again was an outlet for her.
The club was closed for the evening and the huge pine Christmas tree in the corner of the room gave off a scent of its own. Buffet tables were full of food, which the caterers had prepared. Some I had never seen or heard of before. Silver buckets of champagne, packed in ice lined the tables.
It was nice for once not being ruled by the clock and having a night off and just mingling and chatting with the others. We were all dressed in our best dresses. You were expected to keep up appearances, even though you weren’t working. Again I used the changing rooms to get ready.
Two men were standing in a faraway dark corner having a drink at the bar and watching the proceedings. They were bored watching everyone who worked for them eat and drink their way through the room, especially the free bar.
‘Jake! Jake mate, there she is, over there near the far end of the bar.’ The excitement in the speaker’s voice caused his friend to stir.
‘Who?’ said his friend, looking around the room and trying to follow the direction of his friend’s gaze.
‘That woman I told you about last year in the beer garden of Stan’s pub. Do you remember?’ He was astonished to see the woman he’d had that sexual encounter with standing in his club, having a drink at this very exclusive party. Who the hell was she, and why was she here? Was he destined only to see this woman once a year at Christmas parties?
His friend Jake followed his stare, still puzzled. ‘Oh you mean Cinderella, who ran out of the beer garden after your quickie and never left a shoe behind so you could find her?’ He laughed.
The other man had gotten Jake, his friend and business partner, to discreetly ask around if anyone knew this woman. But it had all come to a dead end until now.
Then Jake caught his stare and finally saw who he was looking at. That was when he nearly choked on his drink and laughed out loud. ‘You’re not talking about Frigid Fran are you? No Tony, she’s definitely not the woman you told me about. Why do you think the guys call her Frigid Fran?’
‘You know her?’ His friend looked at him, astonished. ‘How do you know her and what guys?’
‘She works for you, Tony. She’s one of the strippers at the club. The guys being the ones who also work for you. Each and every one of them have asked her out and drawn a blank, believe me. She reminds them of Sharon’s rules—no fooling around at work. Now they think she must be a lesbian or something. They even have a bet on who will win the challenge.’ Again he laughed.
‘I’m telling you. It is definitely her.’ He sounded almost excited, and his friend looked at him curiously.
‘No, Tony. But I tell you what.’ He took out his wallet and pulled out a few fifty-pound notes. ‘Go over and shake a few hands and introduce yourself. I bet you this.’ He put the money on the bar. ‘Deal?’
‘Deal.’ They shook hands on it and walked into the light towards the men they knew, shaking hands with them and saying hello, all the while making a beeline for ‘Francesca’. She was standing in a crowd with her back to them laughing and joking, when everyone suddenly stopped. Facing the ring of friends she was talking to, she stopped as they went silent and turned around.
Everyone, including me, turned to see why some of the others had gone quiet. Instantly, I recognised the man at whom they were all staring. I would have known those blue eyes anywhere. Seeing them again after all of this time shocked me and wiped the smile from my face.
I had often wondered who that man had been and, on occasion, looked through the crowds of men before me wondering if he would be among them. Of course, he never was. We just stared at each other for what seemed an eternity but was only seconds. The darkness of the club and its flashing lights hid my embarrassment.
Jake, whom I knew as Sharon’s husband and had seen a few times before spoke first.
‘Evening ladies, gents,’ he added, looking towards some of the security men who were chatting to us. ‘I hope you’re all having a good time.’ He was slowly introducing people whose names he could remember, and then he pointed at me. ‘This is Francesca.’
I was still staring at the man by his side. My feet were rooted to the floor when the man beside Jake smiled, displaying a perfect line of white teeth, and held out his hand to shake mine.
‘Tony Lambrianu,’ he said. ‘It’s nice to meet you all.’ He had taken my hand and had shaken it but still held on to it.
‘Mr Lambrianu,’ said one of the girls in the crowd, ‘the big boss!’
They all turned and stared at each other and then all started smiling at him, once the penny had dropped and everyone knew who this was. Meeting the big boss created great exuberance in the crowd, and I noticed other people turning around and nudging each other. This was the man behind the myth.
Slowly the words Mr Lambrianu seeped into my brain. I felt the bile rise in my throat, and I wanted the ground to swallow me up. This was my boss—the man who paid my wages! This was the very same man who I’d had casual sex with last year. Now here, standing before me smiling, was my Achilles heel.
He had a patient smile on his face while he listened to people gushing about how it was nice to meet him and what a pleasure it was to work for him. He didn’t show his boredom, probably having heard it all a million times before.
It was Jake who broke the chatter. ‘Have a nice evening, folks.’ He held up his hand as though to wave and moved on.
Still holding my hand, for what seemed an eternity, Tony seemed about to let go and walk away when he spoke—in a very deep articulate way. ‘Francesca? Have we met before?’ he asked with a wry grin on his face. I felt he was playing with me now, and my heart was hammering in my chest.
‘No,’ I said, which was all I could muster up, as my mouth had gone dry.
He looked straight into my eyes and said, ‘Are you sure? I never forget a face.’
Now I knew he’d recognised me, as I had him. He was toying with me, finding amusement in my embarrassment, watching me squirm. Now I knew who he was, I was trying to hold it together and just shook my head emphatically, ‘No, sir. We have never met,’ I lied.
‘She must have one of those faces,’ one of the other girls slurred, a little worse for wear.
Thank God someone had broken the momentum. He nodded and raised my hand and kissed the back of it and then let go and turned to walk away with Jake.
When they got back to their secluded part of the bar, Jake picked up his money and handed it over to his friend. ‘Jesus Christ, Tony, you’re right. That is definitely her. I have never seen anyone so shocked and stunned before. Even when someone has pointed a gun in my face, I’ve never looked that horrified.’
They raised their glasses and chinked them together, smiling. ‘Cheers.’ They laughed at each other.
Feeling the vomit rising up in my throat, I ran to the bathroom. I couldn’t breathe. The room was spinning. It felt like I was having a heart attack! Locking myself in the toilet cubicle, I began to throw up. Beads of sweat were on my brow. My boss—he knew everything about me and how ‘easy’ I had been. I knew he knew I worked for him. I would probably lose my job. He wouldn’t want anyone knowing he’d been slumming it with one of his employees!
‘Fran! Fran, are you okay?’ Candy had come into the toilets to find me.
I shouted that I was okay, and then she was knocking on the door for me to open it.
When I did, she looked worriedly at me. ‘Fran you look awful, what is the matter?’
I made up an excuse about drinking on an empty stomach and tried calming my breathing, realising I had suffered a panic attack. I started rinsing my mouth and washing my hands in the basin, while Candy chatted on about the fantastic-looking boss we had.
‘I was beginning to doubt he ever existed, Fran. But, God, women must throw themselves at his feet.’
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was as white as a sheet, and I also knew Candy was right. Women did throw themselves at his feet, myself being one of them!
I made my excuses about feeling ill and assured Candy that she should stay at the party and enjoy the rest of the night. I just needed to get out of there and get some fresh air in my lungs.
Tony and Jake were about to leave the club by the back door, avoiding having to walk through the crowd.
‘She’s gone.’ Tony turned to Jake. ‘She’s done it again, just vanished into thin air without a backward glance.’ Tony had turned to catch one last glimpse before leaving and noticed her absence.
‘Probably,’ said Jake. ‘But this time, Tony, you know exactly where to find her. Come on.’
Jake found it unusual that his friend had shown his face at the party and made a point of meeting Francesca. He had never, in all of these years made a point of meeting the employees, let alone one of the strippers. That was strictly Sharon’s side of the business.
Jake was sure now that ‘Frigid Fran’ was the mystery woman Tony had told him about and gotten him to make discreet enquiries about. He hadn’t known what all the fuss was about. Tony had plenty of women; he was notorious for it. One was waiting for him now back at the casino. Maybe he was just satisfying his curiosity. By all accounts, it had been a strange encounter, with no words spoken. Oh well, the mystery was at last solved.
5
Bad Times
I felt I had overreacted the evening of the party. When I turned up for work, nothing was ever said. Christmas had come and gone at my mam’s house as usual—although, there seemed to have been a cloud over the festivities. I had noticed that Mam’s new boyfriend George, though they didn’t live together—he had his own house, but—took it upon himself to be lord of the manor and boss the boys around when he did come to her place.
I had made a point of informing my mam that he would not boss Bobby around, and I had intervened when he had got on his high horse and started bossing my brothers around. I could tell that he didn’t like me or the fact that I reminded him that he was a ‘guest’ in the house. If he didn’t like what he saw, maybe he should go home. I hadn’t wanted to uptip the apple cart, but I also felt I should make my feelings known, for my brothers’ sake.
A couple of months had passed now, and I got a call from the oldest of my brothers. ‘Fran, you have to come home,’ he said. ‘Things are really bad here. Will you come’?
He didn’t go into detail because he was ringing from a public telephone booth. I knew I had to go, he wouldn’t have telephoned me if it wasn’t important, and He never had before. In the back of my mind I felt it had something to do with George.
I packed a few things and put Bobby in the car. I couldn’t telephone Sharon. The line was constantly engaged. I decided it was quicker to drive to the club and tell her I had to go home to my mam’s. Unlike the other girls, this was the first time I had cancelled my shifts or thrown a ‘sickie’.
‘Oh, Fran,’ Sharon shouted when I was leaving with Bobby, ‘as your passing that way, will you drop this off at the other club?’ She held out a brown envelope to me, and although it was inconvenient and in the wrong direction, I took it.
It was a small favour to ask, considering how understanding she had been about my forthcoming absence.
When I arrived at the club, I couldn’t get in. The doors were locked, and even though I knocked and banged, no one answered. To hell with it. I had to go. I would take it to the club when I got back in a day or two.
When I arrived at my mam’s, she was as shocked to see me as I was at the sight that greeted me. She had given the money I had sent her to George in good faith that he was going to rent a bigger house for them all.
Somewhere in the midst of this, they had argued, and he had left without returning the money. That was why the electricity was cut off, and she couldn’t pay the bill. In his moment of weakness, George had bought the boys some bunk beds. When he had left, he had taken them with him, leaving the boys with nothing to sleep on, now that my mam had gotten rid of the old ones. He had actually turned up and dismantled them in front of her.
Everything seemed a mess, and my mam had tried saving face by not telling me. She didn’t want to be a burden. Thank God my brother had taken the initiative and telephoned me. This all sounded familiar—I recalled how Luke had left me in debt.
First things first—I sent the boys to the local fish and chip shop so that I could listen in private to the rest of the happenings. Poor mam. I had only brought a hundred pounds with me. I wasn’t expecting anything like this.
I left the boys to eat their fish and chips and contacted the electric company. I paid the bill in full at one of their outlet points, and that was that problem solved. As I reached into my bag for my purse, I noticed the brown envelope Sharon had given me. Curiously, I opened the corner of it and saw that it was full of money!
With everything that had happened, I had totally forgotten all about it. This, for the time being, I decided, would solve all my mam’s problems. I could borrow some, I thought, and would explain to Sharon when I got back and pay her what I owed her. After all, she was in charge of my wages and could keep any part of it she liked.
To my own stupidity, this was what I did. I was playing fairy godmother. I bought new beds and paid the rent in advance. The next few days were a whirl. The happier it made my family, watching their smiles, the more I dipped into this pot of gold in my handbag—anything to ease my mam’s pain. I had a telephone installed so I could be constantly available if needed. How stupid was I being?
I stayed for the week, spending and spending. Eventually, I had to leave. In my eagerness to sort everything out, I hadn’t realised just how thin the envelope had become. I was a little afraid and nervous driving home, knowing I would have to face the consequences.
When I arrived home I noticed my answer phone flashing. It had thirty messages on it. I turned it on and went and put the kettle on and got a drink for Bobby. Each message in turn that I listened to was Sharon’s voice asking me to ring her.
Eventually on the last message, I heard Mr Lambrianu’s voice. This made my blood run cold. My God, Sharon had told him, although I suppose she had to really. Whatever was in that envelope belonged to him.
‘I believe you have something of mine, Francesca. When you get this message, I expect you to come to my office. Don’t make me come to you.’ The tone was threatening and sarcastic.
I spent the day indoors with Bobby and decided, when I got my story straight, I would go tomorrow. Now I had to face the music; I presumed everyone knew and was talking about me.
I had never meant to spend that much money. I still didn’t know how much I had spent. But I guessed it went into the high hundreds, maybe even a few thousand pounds!
I rang Sharon in the evening. She was not at all pleased with me and kept going on about how I had betrayed her trust. She told me I was to go to the casino and see Mr Lambrianu himself.
This was only the beginning. What was he going to say to me? Dealing with Mr Lambrianu had been the last thing I had expected. I’d thought I would just be dealing with Sharon. But no; it had gone further than that. She’d had to confess to him that she had given me the envelope with the money in to take to the club, rather than getting one of the security men to do it. I presumed she was angry because she, too, had been on the end of his anger. Now I was frightened and nervous. I didn’t know what to expect.
