The Betrayer by Kimberley Chambers Page A

Her Tommy wouldn’t have to worry about work now his uncle Kenny had offered him a job. He’d be so pleased, she could hardly wait to tell him. Maybe Kenny would take Freddie on as well. Tommy would love that, he’d be chuffed to bits.
    Maureen glanced at the clock. It was ten to twelve and Tommy would definitely be out by now. He wasn’t coming straight home. Freddie was picking him up and they were going for a beer first. She wasn’t disappointed, she totally understood. Boys would be boys, after all. He’d rung her only yesterday and promised faithfully he’d be home by seven.
    ‘I’ve got a surprise for yer, so don’tcha let me down, and make sure you bring Freddie with yer,’ she told him.
    Maureen stood up. She had so much food to prepare that she needed to get her arse in gear. Ethel and the girls were coming this afternoon to give her a hand. Susan had agreed to help as well, although Maureen doubted this, as she was too busy chasing after that no-good bastard who had knocked seven bells out of her. Hours she’d sat up casualty with her. As luck would have it, nothing was broken, but her face was cut to pieces and she was bruised from head to toe.
    ‘Don’t you ever have anything to do with him again,’ she threatened Susan. ‘In fact, I’m takin’ you round to his mother’s. I’m gonna show her what he’s fuckin’ done to yer.’
    ‘Please, Mum, no,’ Susan screamed. ‘It wasn’t his fault, I’m the one to blame. Please, Mum, just leave it.’
    Maureen shook her head in disbelief. ‘If I find out you’re still seeing him, I’ll domp yer me fuckin’ self. And if I ever come face to face with him, God help me.’
    Maureen looked at the clock and tutted. The unreliable little mare said she’d be home over an hour ago. Still, she didn’t particularly need any help. She wanted it all done by the time anyone else arrived, so her family and friends could just sit, have a drink and enjoy themselves. They’d all done more than enough already, bless ’em. Maureen sang along happily to the radio as she put the sausage rolls in the oven. Tonight would be her best party ever.
    ‘Excuse me, son. That’s twice I’ve asked you now. Do you have this in my size or don’t you?’
    The pomposity of the man’s voice snapped James out of his daydream. ‘I am so sorry, sir. I will look for you immediately.’
    James checked through the shirts in the storeroom and, unfortunately for him, came back with the wrong size.
    ‘I’ve never known such incompetence. Get me the manager, at once.’
    Hearing the commotion, James’s employer, Mr Cohen, rushed to the rescue. ‘You take a break now, James. Make us some coffee and I’ll deal with Mr Branson.’
    Harold Cohen immediately located the appropriate shirt and handed it to his customer. Full of schmooze, he then talked him into being measured up for one of his most expensive suits. Smiling as he counted the money, he thanked Mr Branson and shook his hand.
    Seeing James hover awkwardly in the doorway of the storeroom, Harold waved him over. James walked towards him. He hoped he wasn’t about to receive a telling-off. ‘I’m so sorry. I was about to . . .’ James was stopped mid-sentence by Harold’s loud laughter.
    ‘You worry too much, James, my boy. Mr Branson is a schmuck , an absolute putz .’
    James smiled. He might not have been Jewish, but he’d worked for Harold long enough to have picked up a bit of Yiddish. He was no expert, but he knew both schmuck and putz equalled cock in his own language.
    Still laughing, Harold put an arm around his shoulder. ‘Now James, I want you to do me a favour. You’ve been in a bloody trance all day and I’m not telling you off, because I fully understand why. You’re excited about seeing your brother and you can’t wait to get home to that pretty little girlfriend of yours.’
    ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ James insisted.
    Harold smiled. James might only be his employee, but he knew him