To Hammer, of all people, the man Freedom had sent sprawling, he opened up, near to tears. ‘They own me, mun, own me, an’ I’m through, there won’t be no fight.’
Hammer’s chin wobbled, and tears came into his already watery eyes. He looked at Freedom with disgust, thudded his fist into his own chest. ‘Nobody owns a fighter’s heart, mun, you throw the fight and you’ll not live with yourself. Take the fancy clothes away and you’re a gyppo. But win the title an’ you’re a champion.’ Hammer stepped aside as three gents came out of the club and slipped him a few coppers. He immediately started sweeping the sawdust-covered pavement again. Freedom walked away, he didn’t look back, he couldn’t.
Mrs Harris could hear Evie down in the kitchen. She pulled on her worn coat over her nightdress and went downstairs.
‘All right, are you, lovey? Fancy a cup of tea?’
Evelyne turned her face away, not wanting her friend to see she had been crying. They had not spoken of what had happened in Jermyn Street, there had been no need. Evelyne had been so quiet that Mrs Harris knew something had gone wrong.
‘There’s nothing to say, just… I saw him, and, well, he’s not the man I knew, and I know he wouldn’t want me, I know.’
Mrs Harris put the kettle on and stoked up the fire, questioned her no further. She sighed, it looked as though they would have their guest to stay for a long time. ‘Whatever ‘appens, ducks, this is your home now, yours and the baby’s, so put your mind at rest on that.’
Evelyne hugged the big, kind woman, and the strong arms held her tight.
‘There’s a good gel, you’ll be all right, you’ll see.’
In the cold light of dawn Freda woke to see Ed standing by the window. He was dressed, ready to go out, and she put out her hand, but he didn’t take it. She watched his depressed, squat figure walking down the street. The milk cart began its round, the horse clip-clopping out of the dairy halfway down the road. She made up her mind then and there that she would go and see Evelyne. Not just for the girl, but for herself and Ed too, if Evelyne could make Freedom see sense then she would see him, whether Ed liked it or not.
Sir Charles laid a neat ledger in front of Freedom, with all the expenses calculated to date. Every item bought for Freedom was carefully listed in Ed’s handwriting. Clothes in one column, food in another, lodgings, keep, train tickets — every item was accounted for. There were pages and pages of figures from Cardiff, the lawyer’s and the barrister’s bills from Smethurst’s firm, Evelyne’s hotel bills and receipts, even down to her satin dress and the rented jewellery. On the following pages were the wages paid to Ed and the two lads, their expenses and their keep. Freedom’s head began to spin as Sir Charles flicked the pages over. ‘Not done yet, take a look at these figures, this is jus,t for the tickets, the posters, the press.’
Page after page was turned over, and the final amount was written in the last column. More than five thousand pounds.
‘I’d say we’ve invested quite a large sum, wouldn’t you? And I think Ed told you, you will be allowed two hundred from the purse, if ‘you win the championship.’
Sir Charles flicked a small piece of thread from his trouser leg, held it aloft to inspect it.
‘If you lose, the contract we have will be null and void, it’s quite obvious why, and surely you must see why I have to have a contract in the first place. You win the British title and you’ll have God knows how many promoters after you. Next stop America, and the fights there take ten times more money than they do here. All I have done, old chap, is to protect my investment.’
He couldn’t determine what Freedom was thinking, but he assumed it was slowly sinking in. ‘If I have made you feel anything less than a friend, I apologize, it certainly was not my intention. I have believed in you right from the very beginning, from Devil’s Pit, you know I travelled up there to see you?’
Pacing the room, Freedom felt guilty, confused. He was all mixed inside.
‘Ed will be waiting at the gym, what do you want to do? I am perfectly willing to listen to anything within reason … I will be saddened if you want to walk away, but I can’t stop you. You will, of course, have to repay all the costs, and I don’t think it too unreasonable, not at this late stage.’
Freedom could hardly swallow, his tongue felt dry and seemed to be sticking in his throat.
‘It’s entirely your decision but we can’t wait, not too long. If you want to back out I shall have to find another contender, won’t be easy. Then again, fighters are two a penny, Freedom; sooner you learn that the better.’
Ed made both men jump as he slammed into the room, flushed with anger. ‘Fighters, maybe, but not champions. You’re a bloody fool, Freedom … sorry, sir, ter barge in like this, but I been up all night long, an’ I just can’t, can’t let ‘im walk away.’ He turned to Freedom. ‘If it’s Evie you want then we’ll find ‘er, if that’s what ail this is about. If it is ‘er, then bugger the press, I say, and I’m sorry, sir, but sod the prince an’ all. I put months of my time into this lad, an’ I won’t let ‘im throw it away.’
Sir Charles was on his feet, his manner controlled but more angry than Freedom had ever seen him. ‘One moment if you please, Ed, I am sure your theatrical entrance was meant well.’
His voice was chilling in its calmness as he glared at Freedom. ‘I want the truth, Stubbs, you swore on oath on that witness stand. Tell me, it was a pack of lies, wasn’t it? You killed that boy in the picture house, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Tell me!’
His control left him and he raised his stick, looking as though he would bring it down on Freedom’s head. Ed gaped, but Freedom moved fast, wrenching the stick away from Sir Charles. Ed thought he would break it in two, but he held it calmly, tapping it into the palm of his hand.
‘I did no killing, sir, an’ what I said on that stand was the truth. I dunno why I’m acting the way I am, I can only say I’m sorry … I love her, sir, I dunno why she went without sayin’ nothin’ to me, and it’s eating me up inside.’
Tight-lipped, Sir Charles picked up his gloves and told Ed to take Freedom to his woman, he would see to the press personally.
‘You’ll fight, then?’,
‘I just need to see her, that’s all, mun.’
Ed sighed with relief, grabbed Freedom’s coat. ‘Get yerself down ter the gym, I’ll get Freda to bring her to you, go on, get out.’
Freedom didn’t need to be told twice. He was out of the room like lightning. Ed hovered at the door.
‘Well, sir, do we go on or not?’
Sir Charles shrugged. ‘As you said, we’ve put a lot of time and money into him, why not?’
Ed ran after Freedom. Sir Charles could see them both from the apartment window, running along Jermyn Street, dodging the passers-by. The gypsy spring was back, all right.
Dewhurst coughed politely.
‘Will you be wanting anything, sir?’
Still staring into the street, Sir Charles was carefully pulling on his gloves. When he spoke his voice was matter-of-fact, with hardly a trace of emotion. ‘Appears our problems were to do with the gel, young fella loved her.’
Dewhurst raised his eyebrows. Sir Charles didn’t look at him, could have been talking to himself. ‘Funny, ya know, I have never known that sort of love, the sort he feels for this girl, never known it … but I do understand. You see, somewhere in the darkened recesses of my mind, I have dreamed of him loving me — never known me treat one of my boxers with such lavish care, have you, eh?’
‘No sir, I have not, sir.’