Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [64]
He could still get a woman whenever he wanted one, and he could have a fight too at any time. But he was getting too old for fighting, and the women were all whores. Yet listening to this girl made him feel juicy again, like he could take on any one of those Young Turks who strutted up and down the street. Like he could take a woman to bed and keep hard all night.
He was going to be cock-o’-the-walk tonight. Every man in here would want to pat him on the back and buy him a drink for getting her in. They were spellbound; she’d wrapped them up like a spider binding a fly in her web. And they’d be back for more night after night.
Pat glanced at her brother. He was quite a find too, good-looking in that fragile, English aristocrat way. He had a nice manner about him, verging on the side of snooty, but with a disarming smile, and he served drinks fast and with style. Pat knew deep down in his bones the lad was honest too, and that was rarer than a horse that didn’t shit.
But it wouldn’t take long before someone tried to poach the pair of them away. He could see Fingers Malone up the end of the bar; his devious little mind was probably already whirling with plans to get them into his brother’s fancy place on Broadway.
So Pat knew he would have to think of some way to keep their loyalty to him.
Chapter Thirteen
‘That much?’ Beth gasped as Heaney handed over her half of what had been put in the hat for her. It was all in nickels and dimes but it was such a large heap.
‘Eight dollars and forty-five cents,’ Heaney said. ‘Do you want me to change it up for you?’
Beth nodded, too astounded to speak. She had played three hour-long sets, with a break between them. It was nearly one in the morning now and she was exhausted.
‘Don’t expect to get that much every night,’ Heaney said dryly. ‘You were a novelty tonight and it’s Saturday. Come Monday it might be just nickels, but I like you, so I’ll promise you’ll never leave here without two dollars.’
‘You want me back on Monday?’
‘Yup. Monday, Friday and Saturday. Might get some other players in at the weekend too.’
‘How will the money be divided up then?’ Beth asked, fearing she would get a far smaller percentage.
He gave her a calculating look, perhaps surprised she’d dared to ask. ‘You leave that to me,’ he replied. ‘But as I said, I’ll see you right. You can go now, and your brother too. I wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you walking home alone.’
‘He’s a strange man,’ Sam said reflectively as they walked home arm in arm. The Bowery was still every bit as busy as it had been early in the evening; drunks wove their staggering way through the more sober on the pavements, narrowly missing the food stalls. Music and guffaws of laughter wafted out from bars, the pounding sound of dancing feet from somewhere unseen, and shouted greetings from one group of people to another across the street. The air was heavy with odours, fried onions on the hot-dog stands vying with beer, tobacco, cheap scent and sweat, along with horse droppings from the cabs. ‘He hardly spoke to me all day. I didn’t know if he was pleased with how I was shaping up or not. Then he stuck a five-dollar bill in my hand and said I was to come back on Monday. Does that mean I get the job for as long as I want it? And how much will I be paid each week?’
‘I think he’s slippery, so we’ll have to speak up and ask such things,’ Beth said thoughtfully. ‘I know the audience liked me, but he didn’t say anything.’
‘That’ll be because he wants to keep the upper hand. Of course he liked you — I watched his face when you were playing. Just hope he doesn’t have any ideas about you being his woman.’
‘Surely not? He’s far too old,’ Beth exclaimed.
Sam chuckled. ‘Most of the men watching you had thoughts like that. I could see it in their faces. I can see I’ve got to watch out for my little sister.’
‘Who would have thought it?’ Beth said dreamily as they turned into a side street to cut down to Division