The Campbell Road Girls. Kay Brellend
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‘’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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