So I sat down opposite him, at the table he seemed to be saving for someone else, and he was just about to say something, still stirring his tea like it would set solid if he didn't, when in came these other three he seemed to know. And one of them was bigger than the others, even bigger, and put himself to the front like a sergeant, and I thought, I don't know why but you know these things when you see them, I could be taken in hand by this man. He looked at me, then at the little man, then he looked at me again, like I can remember men of a certain age looking at me once, but not any more, Mandy Dodds, like they wished they were ten years younger but they're facing the fact that they're old enough to be your father. Then he looked again, smiling, slyly, at the little man, who said, clearing his throat, flustered, 'This is—' So I said, 'I'm Judy. From Blackburn.'
I saw the little pause in the big one's face. Then he spoke, in that too loud, too bold voice, that didn't know, that had never learned and never would and wouldn't care if it did, that it was too loud and too bold, that wouldn't ever be afraid of being heard: "This is Ted. This is Joe. I'm Jack Dodds. And you've met Ray. You're all right with Ray. Ray's in insurance, Ray's lucky, small but lucky. He needs a good feeding up an' all.'
Vince
I'll duff Hussein over too, same as Lenny, if he don't come good. I'll get him by his brown bollocks. One for the Merc and one for going cold on Kath.
The price of the motor and a thousand over, then we're all clean.
I've got to pay for this suit, this poxed-up suit.
Otherwise it's fist-in-the-face time, I hope he understands that. And I won't just go soft and easy on him, I won't just go through the motions, like with old left-hook Lenny here, old jam-face Tate. We aren't talking fruit and vegetables.
I don't even have to do it myself. There's people.
And anyhow I think he knows I hate his guts. That's half the pleasure of it for him. It aint just cars and pussy It's that he knows I've got to smile and lay it on thick and act like I'm his humble servant when what I'm thinking is, You towel-head toe-rag, we used to shoot your lot when we was in Aden. And your lot used to take off squaddies' heads.
The sergeant said> 'We do engines, we don't do bodywork'
It's that he knows he's got me where he wants me. It's that he knows somehow just by looking - because I aint ever told him, but I suppose Kath has, I suppose she would have gone and done - that there I was once, showing the flag, oiling the rag, in that stinking, flyblown heat-trap he'd be at home in, and now here he is at the bottom end of Bermondsey Street, slipping across from his City glasshouse, getting me to find him fancy cars, getting me to say.
'Right you are, Mr Hussein, yes sir, Mr Hussein,' at a wave of his wallet.
Oil for oil, that's what I call it, oil for bleeding oil. And all it is is his kind of fun.
There goes Vince Dodds who sold his daughter to an Ayrab.
He comes in, that first time, with his coat draped over his shoulders and his shades tucked in his top pocket and I can see he don't have to slum it. They're feeling the squeeze in the City, so I'm going up-market while they're going down, but that aint this one's caper. He don't have to deal with Dodds Autos, he could buy motors in Berkeley Square. Except he's got what they've all got, if you ask me. Haggle fever, call of the old bazaar.
All I've got to interest him is an '85 Granada Scorpio and he sniffs round it for a bit, more than he needs if he aint going to cut cake, but I see him looking at Kath, I see him clocking her as much as he clocks the car. She's sitting there in the office, behind the partition, with the door wide open, and it aint my fault she's wearing a skirt like an armband and a tight white T-shirt, and where he comes from they dress 'em up like nuns. It aint my fault she's grown up from being my little girl Kath, that she's eighteen and out of school and can't get no job. I said, You can work in the showroom, if you like, if it'll get you off your arse.
So I let him hover another thirty seconds till I can tell what makes him tick, good and proper. Women, motors and haggling. That's fair, them's fair hobbies. Then I go over, slow, unpushy, and say, 'Can I help you, sir?' And he looks at me, and one eye's saying he don't want to bother with the likes of me, he aint interested in a three-year-old Ford, and the other's still trying to peek round my shoulder at Kath.
He says, 'I was looking at the Granada.'
I say, 'Sweet car, sweet engine, all tuned and tickled. You won't get better value. Want to run it round the block?'
I can see him backing off, so I say, watching his eyes, 'Keys are in the office. Shall I get 'em?' Then I say, looking at my watch, 'I'd come with you myself, but I've got another client coming, three o'clock appointment. But I'll see if Kathy here can't do the honours. You in a hurry?'
And he says, looking at his own watch, it's a bleeding Rolex, 'Maybe not.'
So I poke my head round the office door and I say, 'Kath, will you go with this gentleman while he takes the Granada for a spin? I'm tied up myself. Mr—?' I turn round and he's right at my shoulder. He says, 'Mr Hussein.' I say, 'Mr Hussein.' Then I pick the keys off the rack and toss 'em to her and they land in her lap.
I'd never asked her to do that before and she looks at me, uncertain. But one thing you can say about Kath is that she aint no dummy when it comes to cars. I taught that girl how to use a motor soon as she could get a licence. Took to it like a natural, like her dad's daughter.
So she even backs it out for him, neat and nifty.
It aint my fault she was built like she was, it aint my fault she was her mother's daughter an' all.
I said, 'This is Kath, my daughter Kath. You're in good hands with Kath.'
Other client coming, my arse.
So I say when they get back, 'Well? Goes a treat, don't it? Vince Dodds don't deal in duds.' And he looks at me as though to say, Throw in the girl and I'll buy, and I look at him as though to say, Throw in an extra half-grand and she's yours. He says, 'Okay.'
Then he says, getting all chummy, 'My little weakness, Mr Dodds, my little indulgence. I buy a car, then I grow tired of it, then I get another one, like toys.' The coat's a camel-hair. 'You should look out for anything I might like. I could make it worth your while.'
And I knew he never meant to buy the Granada. I knew he'd be back before long to buy another and there'd be extras in it if I so much as hinted that I was missing Kath around the place, that a girl of her age ought to be earning a decent living.
There goes Vince Dodds who pimps for his own daughter.
But it aint as if she didn't know what she was doing, it aint as if she can't take care of herself. Her mother's daughter. And she aint on no regular rummage. Not like Sally.
But now if he wants to ditch her, if he thinks he can chuck her out on the street, another motor, another muff, then he's got another think coming. I'll pop over to that posh pad of his and bust in the door. Then I'll bust in his head. And it don't matter, I don't care, if he don't buy the Merc and he never forks out that extra grand. Because maybe a grand aint nothing, it aint nothing at all, now Jack aint nothing neither. But Kath's my own living daughter, she is. She's a Dodds. And she turns up at Jack's funeral wearing the best little black outfit you ever saw, which must have cost half a grand for a start, half a grand if it was a penny. And maybe I aint done right by her, maybe I aint.