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The Campbell Road Girls
The Campbell Road Girls
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The Campbell Road Girls

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Jennifer looked surprised. ‘Thought you was working in service.’

‘I was, but I’m back home now so I can look after me mum.’

‘She’s still limping badly, ain’t she?’ Jennifer said sympathetically, leaning back against the wall as though she’d forgotten about getting back to work and was settling down for a long chat. ‘I saw her out walking with one of your sisters and she was struggling to keep up.’

‘Hadn’t you best get back to work if you’re late?’ Lucy cocked her head towards the sweet shop.

As Jennifer trudged on with a grimace, Lucy turned to watch her. Suddenly she realised she might not be wasting her time going back to see Mrs Dobson tomorrow ...

Chapter Seven (#ulink_c9ee7cc8-1020-57bf-8c8a-5d8711bbf64e)

Ada Stone knew she was being watched.

She strolled away from the rack of elegant day dresses and approached a display of winter coats. With practised nonchalance she checked the size of a garment and smoothed her fingers over the tweed, inspecting its quality. A legitimate customer with twelve guineas to spare would have felt entitled to inspect an intended purchase. But Ada wasn’t about to buy anything from this shop, although she had previously selected several nice blouses. At present those were secreted about her person in cavernous pockets within her clothes, roomy enough to hide more choice items, and before she left the store, Ada was determined to fill them.

The thin-faced fellow in a pinstriped suit moved to follow Ada, stopping at a display counter adjacent to the coats. He positioned himself so he could still covertly observe her from beneath the brim of his hat.

Ada could have laughed. If he thought he was a professional he was mistaken. She’d spotted him a mile off, not long after she’d entered Debenham and Freebody. In her opinion he resembled a pensioned off flat-foot who’d got himself a store walker’s job to keep out of his wife’s way.

Her amusement withered away. Luckily, he’d only been on her tail since she’d settled by the dresses. She’d managed to get one off the hanger and had been ready to stuff it out of sight when she’d noticed he was on to her. With great composure she’d strolled to the nearest mirror, held the gown up against her and deliberated on her reflection. Then she’d carefully returned the garment to the rail. He hadn’t caught her out and she wasn’t about to confirm his suspicions that she was up to no good. If he tried to arrest her, she was confident she could outrun him to the exit but she was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. She’d got her eye on several other nice pieces to nab; Bill would praise her to the skies if she managed to return to Lambeth up to the gills in classy merchandise.

And if her useless associate would play her part properly Ada knew it was possible she would saunter out onto Oxford Street in a few minutes’ time looking as though she’d doubled in size.

Today, Ada Stone would have been unrecognisable to her erstwhile colleagues at Mortimer House. She had a polished veneer as befitted a patron of an expensive store. A smart velvet cloche hat was perched at a jaunty angle on her sleek bobbed hair; her coat was of dark blue cashmere and her new court shoes and matching gloves were of soft kid. Yet beneath her breath she began swearing like a navvy.

Mavis Pooley was supposed to be causing a distraction while Ada got on with the delicate business of thieving. Her co-conspirator, was just seventeen and on her first shoplifting jaunt. Mavis was equally well attired: she was not supposed to arouse suspicion before the appointed time. But her cues were going unheeded. Several times, Ada had given her a discreet nod yet still the young blonde remained dithering by a display of hats, looking nervous. Ada hadn’t wanted Mavis tagging along with her today; she’d guessed the younger woman would end up as more of a hindrance than a help.

But Bill had insisted Ada be the one to teach the new recruit the ropes. She was convinced that if the little trollop hadn’t been dropping her drawers for Bill for weeks, he wouldn’t have let Mavis wangle a place in their gang at all.

Ada squinted fiercely at Mavis, in the hope she’d snap out of her jitters, remember she was supposed to go to the door with an expensive item, and pretend to examine it in the light.

It was a trick Ada had learned from Betty Pickering. They’d made an excellent team and had used it successfully many times in the past. A store detective would always be drawn to a person who gave the impression they were about to leave with unpaid goods. The chief hoister was then left free to pilfer at will for some minutes. If lucky, they could disappear, unchallenged, into the crowd of West End shoppers.

Fifteen minutes ago Mavis had managed to keep a sales assistant occupied while Ada slipped the silk blouses out of sight. But they’d moved now to the more expensive stuff and Ada was keen to get done and escape.

It seemed Mavis had finally plucked up the courage to make her move. The young blonde grabbed a feathered hat and barged swiftly towards the exit, bumping into several people in her blind haste. Ada chuckled beneath her breath as the flat-foot started to attention, then raced after her. Ada realised that if the new girl got herself arrested on her first day it wouldn’t bother her one bit. She’d have Bill all to herself ...

Mavis’s panic made it seem she would run out onto Oxford Street with the hat but she remembered to halt sharply by the door to inspect it. Giggling softly, Ada turned her attention back to the rails and it took less than thirty seconds for three dresses to join the blouses she’d already tucked away. She liked the look of the tweed coat but knew it was too bulky to go into an inside pocket, despite the fact the clothes she wore were specially tailored to conceal large quantities of booty. Instead, she whipped it off its hanger and swung it casually about her shoulders like a cape.

Feeling unbearably hot and heavy, Ada made her way swiftly towards the exit, endeavouring to remain inconspicuous by keeping close to groups of people. As soon as she noticed Mavis blushing and batting her lashes at the security guard, who now looked soppy, Ada went out of another door, and melted away into the West End throng.

Despite icy gusts cooling her face Ada was sweating by the time she reached the alley where her receiver was waiting to relieve her of the clothes. Gratefully she shrugged off the heavy tweed, then began to pull the dresses and blouses from their hiding places.

Charlie North packed the merchandise into a suitcase. Within three minutes of their efficient meeting, they were both going their separate ways, due to reconvene later to repeat the exercise.

Once more ‘clean’, Ada sauntered back into view and began mingling again with early Christmas shoppers with the intention of raiding a different store. First, she needed to catch up with Mavis and she hoped the pest hadn’t forgotten where their rendevouz point was.

Ada had hardly gone a hundred yards towards Marble Arch when through the crowd she spotted the weasel-faced store detective with a policeman at his side. She realised immediately the fellow had found the empty hangers and had rumbled that she’d been in cahoots with a decoy. Now he was out searching for her, perhaps both of them. Mavis had been instructed to make herself scarce immediately after she’d fulfilled her role and head to their meeting place. Ada just hoped that her accomplice had got clean away because she wouldn’t put it past the snivelling wretch to grass them all up under police interrogation.

With a bitter curse Ada ducked down her head, pulled up her collar and weaved a path to safety. She knew she’d be going home to Lambeth early and that annoyed her because she’d seen some smashing shoes recently in Selfridges.

‘I’ve been hanging about waiting for her by Marble Arch!’ Ada was so enraged that the finger she had pointing at Mavis was violently trembling. ‘I’d’ve been better off doin’ the job on me own. The cowardly bitch nearly got the both of us arrested in Debenhams.’

Ada continued stamping to and fro in the back room of the Windsor pub, sucking on a cigarette. ‘And I ain’t taking her with me again, so don’t go asking me, Bill. See if one of the others will have the useless article on their backs.’ She glowered, waiting for Bill to side with her and bawl the new girl out.

If anything, Bill was sliding his latest young fancy encouraging glances.

‘Time she was sent packin’, Ada stormed, unpinning her hat and throwing it down on the table.

‘Cut her some slack, will yer, Ada?’ Bill drawled soothingly. ‘Be different next time. Virgin at it today, weren’t she?’ He twitched his head, giving Mavis a sly, sideways wink.

‘Only way she could be a bleedin’ virgin ’n’ all, ain’t it?’ Ada snarled sarcastically, staring hatefully at her rival for Bill’s affections.

A few minutes ago her resentment for Mavis had escalated when, hot and bothered, she’d entered the Windsor public house on Garnies Street and found the young blonde hadn’t bothered going to their rendezvous spot so had beaten her back from Oxford Street. Not only that, Mavis had been looking like the cat with the cream, cosying up to Bill’s side, sipping gin and tonic.

Having completed her initiation into the gang without mishap Mavis had begun to feel relaxed ... until Ada burst in, vinegar-faced and spouting her mouth off. As she listened to Ada’s criticism of her debut performance Mavis’s pretty features turned sulky. She knew there was truth in it but she wasn’t about to admit that to anybody, least of all Bill, even though she reckoned it was his fault she’d put on a poor show.

She’d spent last night with him and if she’d been acting dozy in the shop it was because she’d been tired: Bill hadn’t let her get any sleep till the early hours of the morning. Besides, she might be a novice thief but her parents weren’t, so in Mavis’s opinion Ada could get stuffed. The Pooleys’ criminal pedigree was superior to the Stones’ and that, Mavis calculated, gave her the right to be part of Bill’s set-up.

As soon as Mavis left school, she’d have happily gone into the family business. But her father had been against any of his kids taking up his and his wife’s seedy career. Mr Pooley had since died and Mrs Pooley had been less against seeing Mavis follow in her shoes as a shoplifter. Times were hard, and in Gill Pooley’s opinion, a girl did what she had to these days to get by. She’d encouraged Mavis’s relationship with Bill because she knew he’d look after her daughter while she learned the ropes. But she’d warned Mavis not to let the other girls push her around or to rely on Bill for too long. Mavis was heeding her mum’s advice. Bill Black might want her for now but as soon as Betty Pickering came out of gaol, she knew he’d drop her like a hot potato ... just as he would Ada.

‘Ain’t my fault you let the store detective get onto yer,’ Mavis sighed. She got up and sauntered towards Ada, swinging her hips and her gin to and fro. ‘If it hadn’t been fer me timing it just right you’d’ve had yer collar felt.’ She gave a contemptuous smirk. ‘I weren’t being a coward, see, I was being clever. I hung back playing me part on purpose. You’re lucky I helped you out best I could even though you was to blame for getting clocked. Then I scarpered straight away ’cos I knew the fellow would check the rails and call the police when he found stuff gone. You ought to be more subtle, Ada.’

‘That subtle enough for yer?’

Ada, her face boiling with rage, suddenly jerked Mavis’s arm up, flinging her drink into her face. She followed that up by punching the side of the young blonde’s head, sending her staggering into a chair, which crashed over.

By the time Bill sprang to separate them, Mavis was screaming abuse at the top of her voice and twisting a fistful of Ada’s mousy hair. A moment later Mavis howled as Ada bit her hand. As they wrestled back and forth, bashing into tables, one wobbled, sending several glasses smashing on the floor.

The landlord suddenly barged into the back room pulling the door to behind him. ‘Chrissake ... what’s going on, Bill?’ he ground out in an undertone. ‘Can hear the commotion in the saloon bar.’

Bill managed to elbow Ada forcefully away from Mavis, and the older woman went tottering back and landed on her backside on the floor. Mavis was shoved more gently in the opposite direction.

‘’S’all right, Jim,’ Bill breathlessly told the landlord. ‘Just a bit of a disagreement between the ladies, that’s all.’

‘Fuckin’ hell!’ Jim muttered. ‘I’ll be bleedin’ glad when Betty’s out.’ Jim Trent knew that most of the bust-ups between the women in Bill’s crew were caused by jealousy over him, not the value of the stuff they stole. Bill couldn’t say no to any of the little scrubbers. At least when Betty was about he managed to keep his fly buttoned a bit more often.

‘Get going.’ Bill jerked his head at the door, but gave Mavis a little smile to soften her dismissal.

Mavis straightened her clothes in a couple of tugs. Having patted her blonde waves into place she collected her handbag and sashayed out. The landlord followed her, then stopped at the door, wordlessly pointing at the broken glass and overturned furniture.

‘I’ll see to damages, Jim,’ Bill said, all affable. ‘You know I always do, mate.’

Jim couldn’t argue with that. On a previous occasion when Bill had caused mayhem and nearly killed a bloke in his pub, a pile of banknotes had been slapped down onto the splintered bar counter before the victor and his cronies sauntered on their way. Jim gave a nod of acceptance and disappeared.

Bill turned back to Ada to find she was still sitting on the floor examining a stained hand. Suddenly she scrambled up and started pulling hysterically at her clothes to view the back of her skirt. She held out crimson fingers towards him, shaking them angrily. ‘Look! I’ve only sat on glass and cut me bleedin’ arse! That fuckin’ bitch! She’s made me cut me bleedin’ arse! I’m gonna have her right now!’

Bill scraped together shards with a foot while grabbing at Ada’s arm to prevent her charging after Mavis and starting another scrap. He began rubbing and patting Ada’s back in an attempt to calm her down. ‘Let’s take a look,’ he said soothingly. ‘Probably ain’t more than a scratch.’

Ada tried to tug free of his grip but when he lifted her skirt and petticoat she quietened and sent him a sideways look. Turning her around so her back was to him he pulled aside her bloodstained drawers then bent to take a look at the gash. It was long and deep, and he knew it needed stitches. Bill drew out a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it into a wad to press against the wound and staunch the flow of blood. He could sense Ada was still bubbling with rage and knew of only one sure way to distract her from going after Mavis and creating merry hell. His free hand began sensually kneading the spare flesh of her undamaged buttock.

‘We’ll get a stitch or two put in that for you by the doc and you’ll be good as new come supper time.’ He leaned closer and nipped at her ear with his teeth. ‘Then later on, Ada, I’ll kiss it all better for yer. Like that won’t yer, gel?’

Ada shoved her spine against his chest, squirming her bottom against his fondling hand and deliberately parted her thighs in wordless demand.

As Ada’s head fell back Bill impassively watched her grimace and groan as he thrust his fingers to and fro. Of the two women, he preferred Mavis. She was better looking and, even at her tender age, had a bit more finesse about her, in and out of bed.

But Ada was the one to keep sweet because she was an instinctive, versatile thief with rare skills that were earning him a fortune. Only Betty was her superior, and she was languishing in Holloway and no use to him at all.

Bill had guessed that Mavis might not be up to much when she was under pressure. He’d also known that if anybody could teach her tricks, Ada could.

Ada had done a fine job at Mortimer House, lifting fabulous jewellery. She’d got him more than he’d wanted by bringing the suite of emeralds out with her and getting clean away. It had been days ago and he was now confident there’d be no comebacks. After the tale Ada had told him about those perverted women he’d expected it might get hushed up. It still made him chuckle and feel horny just thinking about Ada catching those two old girls at it ...

As Ada writhed and bucked Bill jerked free his fingers and wiped them clean with his handkerchief. He then pressed the linen back against her bleeding bottom. ‘Hold that on there, Ada,’ he ordered and started counting out some cash pulled from his pocket to give to the landlord on the way out. ‘Now, come on, gel, get a move on,’ he barked impatiently as Ada wallowed in a sensual haze, propped against a table. ‘It’s time to go and get your backside sorted out.’


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