Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End by Carol Rivers (best motivational novels txt) 📗

'We'll go on our own then,' Sean decided. 'What about you?'

'Tell Ronnie I'll come as soon as I can.'

Sean kissed her gently on the cheek. 'Keep your pecker up, Bells.'

On their way to the hospital, Ashley turned to Sean. 'Poor Bella. She obviously doesn't know about Micky.'

'No, and we're not going to tell her,' Sean said emphatically. 'Best to stay shtum. But I have to admit it was one hell of a shock finding Micky in such a state. I mean, all that dope we found! Enough to stop a bull elephant in its tracks.'

Ashley shuddered. 'What a dive that Flamingo is!'

'How can he do this to Bella?'

'I don't know. Thank God she thinks it's just the booze.'

'Let's hope it stays that way.' But Sean knew Micky was out of control. Just like he had been at the still. Well, they'd all had another chance after that. Micky might have nine lives, but almost certainly he was now down to his last one.

Chapter 27

It was Sunday and Gina was working hard, cleaning the surfaces and shining the mirrors. She had put on the kettle for a cup of tea and soon she would sit down and relax. She was humming to the strains of 'Only The Lonely' by Roy Orbison. It had been a big hit last year and she knew the words off by heart. The sentiments couldn't be more appropriate for her, as though she wouldn't admit it, she had been lonely without Lenny. Even though it was him that had done the dirty on her she missed his presence, still did after all this time.

In her heart she knew she was half to blame. Their lives had become a case of all work and no play. They hadn't spent enough time fooling around, as Lenny had pointed out more times than she could remember.

Roy Orbison's voice trembled on a high, clear note, sending a shiver along her spine. Was she too old to find romance again? She could see a few grey hairs, more white than grey, snaking over her head. Pulling the tweezers from her pocket she aimed them at the roots. Each time she did this she knew two would grow in their place. Sean had warned her when she last went to the salon.

'Let me colour it for you,' he'd advised as he pinned up her shining black chignon. 'Henna will do the trick and you'll still have a full head of hair when you're ninety.'

Gina turned sideways in the mirror. Perhaps Sean was right. She could do with something to give her a lift. No double chins yet but she wouldn't see thirty-eight again. It was serious upholstering from here on in. And your hair was your crowning glory although keeping up with the fashions was important. Black and white was nice for the coffee bar, slacks or a straight skirt and a smart little top like a crisp white shirt. Shoes were high on her list too. Preferably high heels as she still had good legs. Each night she cleansed her skin and moisturised away the wrinkles. Yes, she still took good care of herself and intended to keep doing so.

Her customers appreciated her efforts, often complimenting her on her appearance. The bohemian types regaled her with homespun poetry. The artists amongst them asked her to be their model. But she never took them seriously. It was all good fun, a lot of verbal and hot air, but they made her feel young.

Tomorrow the coffee bar would be open for trade. It was a brand new year and the kids would pile in, playing their music and talking about their hopes and dreams.

Well, she wasn't too old to have dreams of her own, even if she didn't have a man. Gina and Bella's Coffee Bar was going to be famous one day. As famous as the Moka in Frith Street. Everyone knew the Moka Bar. It had been opened by her namesake, the voluptuous foreign actress, Gina Lollobrigida. The Moka and the 2i's coffee bar in Old Compton Street were decorated in the same style as she had chosen for this place. All linoleum floors and Formica tables. They didn't have a battered old piano like the 2i's but sometimes the kids brought in their guitars.

Deep in thought, she almost missed the figure hovering outside. An older man with a beard, dressed in a baggy coat and ragged trousers. For a moment she wondered if he was a new addition to the dozens of tramps that wandered the East End streets, looking for handouts. She knew many of their faces now and sometimes gave them the scraps left over from the kitchen. But this man she hadn't seen before and she was a bit wary. Most of the blokes who arrived for their handouts knew they had to keep strictly away until after hours. She'd warned them they were welcome to what there was left over, but not in front of the cutomers. However, this one didn't look as if he was about to cause her trouble. He was moving off already, though she had a vague feeling that she recognised something about him. The way he moved, the hunch of his shoulders ...

And then he turned to give her one last glance. In that split second their gazes met and Gina froze. Unable to move she stared into the eyes that were only remnants of the person she had once known.

The kettle began to boil. She reached out to turn it off but when she looked back there was no one there.

She rubbed her eyes and blinked. Then she dropped her cloth and ran to the door. Unlocking it hurriedly, she went outside. The street was deserted.

Her brain was telling her she was mistaken. But her heart was telling her she had just seen was Lenny.

Ronnie was staring