The Exciting Life by Karen Mason

people who were left homeless in the war are still sharing
with friends or family, or renting off unscrupulous landlords. It
is immoral that in 1959 there are still slums in many parts of
London. Especially the new immigrant areas in West
London.’
    ‘ Oh God it’s going to be a lecture,’ Annie groaned, leaning her
head against Eddie’s shoulder.
    ‘ I’d like to thank Patrick Collins for allowing us to use his
club for the event,’ Kenneth continued. ‘And my sister Annie for
making sure everything ran smoothly. But mostly, I’d like to thank
Miss Iris Lindholm. This was all her idea and I’d like her to come
here, so we can all give her a round of applause.’
    Iris
acted all bashful but she practically flew over to Kenneth, and
giggled girlishly when he put his arm around her shoulder and
everyone applauded her. Annie looked over at Patrick and he was
smiling proudly and clapping, but he caught her eye and when he
did, he mockingly rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
    ‘ Kenneth’s done this deliberately,’ Annie said to Eddie.
‘Everyone knows this is my club, and yet he thanked Patrick and
treated me as if I was some little lacky.’
    Before
she had the chance to confront her brother, the journalists
gathered around Kenneth and Iris - dazzling them with their
flashbulbs, and throwing questions at them. Right at that moment
Annie felt like telling Bernie Collins he could have the club. With
each day she felt more and more like a spare part.
    Suddenly, from the throng, Iris appeared - holding out her
hand towards Annie. The journalists all followed her, capturing her
every move.
    ‘ We couldn’t have done this without Annie,’ she said, grasping
Annie’s hand. ‘Come and have your photo taken with us.’
    Reluctantly, Annie went and stood with Iris and Kenneth. Her
brother put his arm around Iris’s waist, but didn’t do the same to
his sister. The photographers knew it would make a fabulous photo -
the handsome charity owner flanked by two beautiful girls. No doubt
the accompanying article would mention the fact that he and Annie
were the adopted niece and nephew of Alicia Bloom. And Iris
Lindholm was going to cash in on it all.
    Once the
press had left, and the guests started to go too, Annie wondered if
she should help tidy up. They would be open for business the
following night and the club would have to go back to normal. But
in the end she couldn’t be bothered. Let Iris do it. This night was
all hers, she could do some hard work for once.
    ‘ Come on,’ she said to Eddie. ‘We’re going home.’
    ‘ Don’t you want to help clear up?’ he asked.
    ‘ No. According to my brother, Patrick’s the owner. Let his
girlfriend do it for him.’
     

Chapter Eight
     
    June
1959
     
    Iris was
so exhausted she couldn’t move. An afternoon spent with Leo was
like a week with any other man. She had to lay on her stomach
because he loved to spank her bottom with a wooden handled
hairbrush, and it was too painful to lay on it. These afternoons at
The Wallace Hotel were becoming a regular occurrence, and Iris
found herself looking more and more forward to them. She didn’t
like going to Leo’s flat – it made it feel as though they were
having an affair. Meeting in hotels was more what she was used to.
Leo was a brute who often treated her worse than any of the punters
she’d had in the past – she lost count of the times she’d told
Patrick she’d fallen down stairs, or wobbled over in a pair of
Annie’s heels. But she couldn’t give him up. As a child, while her
mother went out whoring herself, Iris would sit at home waiting for
her to come back and would burn her fingers with matches. She’d
test herself over and over again, doing it for longer each time
until the pain was unbearable. She’d always been drawn to the
darker side of life and enjoyed things that hurt her, and Leo was
just the person to tap into that.
    He sat
at the dressing table, fixing his cuff-links and running his