East End Lottery

PROLOGUE

Thomas Reginald Mortimer was born on Hillside Drive Edgware in the summer of nineteen fifty-seven.  His mother Martha, a slightly backward girl as it was termed in those days, worked as an assistant to the housekeeper and was seduced late one night when her employer had returned home drunk.  Henry Granger was well-known in the city and had made a fortune trading in stocks and shares.  A real ladies' man, he had never married and used women as objects to satisfy his sexual desires.  Martha had gained her employment on the recommendation of her aunt who was also a housekeeper at another large house in the area.  In all honesty, her mother had been glad to see the back of her daughter as she wasn't 'quite the ticket upstairs' or that was the saying she was fond of using.  When Henry Granger forced himself upon her, Martha struggled at first but allowed him to continue when she was told she would lose her job if she didn't comply.  The housekeeper,  Ms Mumbycroft who originated from Hull, was a fair but hard taskmistress and she'd heard the commotion but didn't dare intervene.  Waiting until Henry had finished having his way; she had crept into the room and placed her arms around the girl.  Martha was inconsolable and after Ms Mumbycroft had cleaned her up and made her a cup of hot sweet tea, she was instructed never to go upstairs after dark again and from now on the two women would share the same bedroom.  It turned out to be a case of closing the stable door after the horse had bolted, as within three months it was clear to anyone that Martha Mortimer was well and truly in the family way.  A meeting was arranged between Mr Granger, Ms Mumbycroft and Martha's mother and aunt.  When a large amount of money was passed into Ruby Mortimer's hand it was agreed that after the baby was born it would be placed in the orphanage on Sefton Avenue and offered up for adoption.  Martha wasn't consulted and on the night she went into labour Ms Mumbycroft placed a gag in her mouth to stifle the screams.  It took twenty-two hours of intense pain before Thomas came into the world and for a lot of that time, Martha was left to cope alone.  Henry Granger still expected Ms Mumbycroft to take care of his daily needs whether a baby was being born downstairs or not.  Returning to the bedroom and seeing that Martha had delivered the baby herself, Kathy Mumbycroft cut the cord and then whisked the child away.  Martha never got to hold her boy or say goodbye but in all honesty, she didn't understand what had happened and had gone into shock.  It was agreed that if the family kept their mouths shut and the baby was never mentioned again, then Martha would be allowed to stay in the employment with the Granger household.

Over the years Thomas came to hate being in the children's home and his report contained the words 'a strange child who has difficulty associating with the other boys' and girls'.  It had been noted many times that he had a spiteful streak, especially with the younger children and it was probably the reason that out of all the visitors to the orphanage, not one had chosen to adopt him.  There were only a couple of occasions when he had bonded with other children but when they went it just made young Tommy Mortimer more aloof, especially when he saw how happy each one was as they were being driven away by their new family.  He would often disappear after school hours and his favourite haunt to spend time at was over at the allotments that were situated just off Deans Lane.  He would steal as much fruit as he could get his hands on and sell it back at the orphanage for a halfpenny a time if he was lucky enough to find any buyers.  If none of the children had any cash then he would just let it rot rather than give it away.  From an early age, Tommy had decided that when he grew up he would make as much money as he could, rich people seemed to rule the world or at least that's how it appeared through the eyes of a young boy.  At the age of fifteen, he was placed on an apprenticeship at Keller's wood yard over on Hazel Gardens.  Tommy hated every second of it and the only light relief came in the form of days out working at the convent on Priory field.  George Brown was Tommy's foreman and noticed straight away that the boy had an eye for the opposite sex.  Sitting Tommy down, George told him in no uncertain terms that he was welcome to look but he must never touch.  Seeing all the pretty young girls arrive each day for school was torture and there was no way Tommy would ever be able to obey the orders he had been given.  June Turner was a cheeky young girl with flaming red hair, who was roughly the same age as Tommy and what prank he didn't think of she sure did.  They were a mischievous pair and June could only be described as a thorough tease.  Deliberately touching him, she would then rebuff Tommy when he made any advances.  June's smile was seductive and her big hazel eyes would cause stirrings in Tommy's loins that he found hard to control.  Just lately the only thing he could think about was sex and it was driving him crazy.  Finally, after a couple of weeks of messing about and when June had led him along once too often, he took matters into his own hands.  The door to the old coal shed was open and pushing June inside he roughly forced her up against the wall.

Tommy you'll make my dress all dirty, get off!

It was as if her words went unheard, Tommy was aroused and placing his hands on her bottom he lifted her flimsy cotton dress and roughly pulled down her panties.  Unbuttoning his trousers, Tommy let them fall to his ankles as he nudged his way inside her.  The feeling was fantastic and for a few seconds, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

No Tommy, no I don’t want to!

It was all over after a few jerky moments and Tommy then pulled out.  He had never felt anything like it and the fact that he had forced himself into her made it all the more exciting.  It had been rough and short but nonetheless, June Turner's virginity had been taken.  This was the first time Tommy had raped a girl but it certainly wouldn't be the last and from that day on he was hooked and couldn't wait for his next experience.  Luckily for him, it was payday and after collecting his meagre wages he didn't even bother returning to the orphanage.  Unbeknown to him June Turner had been too scared to report the assault to anyone and had just prayed that it wouldn't result in a child.  Thankfully for them both and unbeknown to Tommy, her prayers were answered.  Tommy boarded the first train to London and made his way to Bethnal Green where he laid low for a few days in Weavers Fields.  Sleeping in the bushes wasn't ideal but he had to make what money he had, stretch as far as possible.

Acer Goldstein ran a flower stall Monday to Friday on Wentworth Street market and then on Sundays he would move his whole setup around the corner to Middlesex Street or Petticoat Lane as it is better known.  Acer had spotted Tommy several times on his way home from work and it was obvious that the boy was hiding from something or someone.  After striking up a conversation he gave the boy his leftover sandwiches which Tommy greedily devoured.  The man's act of kindness was thankfully received and when Acer offered Tommy a job on his stall, the young boy was elated.  Tommy Mortimer always referred to this meeting as the best day in his life and was always indebted to the old Jewish man who had asked no questions and had given him a chance.  Days were spent running errands for Acer and the other stallholders, who would always tip him generously.  Before he knew it Tommy had reached his twenty-ninth birthday and as Acer Goldstein had retired two years earlier, Tommy was now running the stall alone.  It didn't pay a king's ransom but it was enough to get by on and he loved the atmosphere and banter.  In all honesty, every time he thought of moving on something stopped him as he couldn't imagine doing anything else.  All of the other stallholders loved him but they always made sure that their wives and daughters were kept at arm's length.  Arriving for work one cold December morning, Tommy had just finished erecting the stall when he was approached by a tall smartly dressed man who was making inquiries regarding the whereabouts of a certain Thomas Reginald Mortimer.  Even after all these years Tommy was still on his guard and wanted to know who the man was and what he wanted with Thomas.  Geoffrey Harper had worked for Latimer & Fulcher for years as an investigator and had come across this scenario many times before.

I can assure you Sir that Mr Mortimer is not in any kind of trouble.

Geoffrey handed over his business card and as he tipped his trilby hat, informed Tommy that if Mr Mortimer would like to call in at his office he may find there was some beneficial news to hear.  Tommy didn't reply but when the man was out of sight he studied the card.  Latimer & Fulcher was a firm of solicitors working in officers on Gresham Street right in the heart of the city.  When a customer enquired about a bunch of roses Tommy went into sales mode and pushed the card into his pocket.  It wasn't until later that day when he had almost finished packing up that he thought about his early morning visitor again.  It was just after three, so quickly finishing the job in hand he caught the tube from Liverpool Street to St Pauls.  Luckily it was only three stops and after leaving the tube he had less than a five-minute walk to reach his destination.  Latimer & Fulcher worked out of a very small but smart office that consisted of a reception area with two private rooms leading off.  Tommy introduced himself and instantly the young girl who manned the desk disappeared into one of the side rooms.  Within seconds a small grey-haired man appeared and held out his hand.

Good afternoon Mr Mortimer I'm David Fulcher.

Ushering Tommy through the door he offered him a seat in one of the small side rooms.

I must say Mr Mortimer you're a hard man to locate; we've been trying to find you for over six months now.

Suddenly Tommy had visions of June Turner trying to find him to extract some kind of maintenance payment but then that was years ago and surely she would have tried long before now, or it could be his long-lost kid trying to find him, that's if there was a kid.

Maybe I am but I'm also a busy man, now can you cut to the chase and tell me exactly why you wanted to see me?

Please forgive me I must apologise and yes of course.  Now for many years, this firm has represented a Mr Henry Granger.

Tommy shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'The name doesn't ring a bell'.

I can see I'm not making a lot of sense Mr Mortimer.  We represented Mr Granger on legal matters regarding his business dealings but we didn't participate in the drawing up of his will.  Unfortunately, Mr Granger passed away last year and we were instructed by the probate solicitors' to locate you and pass over your inheritance.

Tommy sat bolt upright, was he hearing right, had someone left him some cash?

It seems Mr Granger wanted you to have this.

David Fulcher handed Tommy a manila envelope and then stood up ready to see Tommy out.  This was all happening so fast and there were still questions he wanted answering.

"I don't know what's in here but if its money then how do you know I'm really who I say I am?  I mean you haven’t asked me for any identification.

That won't be necessary; the man who introduced himself to you this morning is one of our best investigators.  He has been looking into your whereabouts for several months and I might add, he has also been following you for several days.  If Geoff says you are Thomas Reginald Mortimer then I have no doubt that is who you are.  Now enjoy your windfall Sir but do take some time to let it sink in as this sort of thing can sometimes be quite a shock.

Leaving the office Tommy aimlessly walked along as he tried to take in what he'd just been told.  Reaching Mansion House he entered Ye Olde Watling pub and after ordering a pint of bitter, took a seat at one of the corner tables and slowly opened the envelope.  The first thing he pulled out was a handwritten letter from Henry Granger.  The writing looked old and the paper smelled musty but after scanning the first few lines Tommy discarded it.  This bloke was claiming to be his father but it was of no interest to him now.  Next, he pulled out what appeared to be a cheque and when he saw the amount was for two hundred thousand pounds, a smile spread from one side of his face to the other.  Stuffing the cheque into his pocket he swigged down the last of his drink and as he passed an open fire on his way out, threw the letter and envelope into the grate.  He wasn't the least bit interested in some old fool wanting to clear his conscience or the fact that the letter may have revealed the identity of his mother.  As far as Tommy was concerned it was too late, far too late for that.

From that day the market stall remained closed and Acer Goldstein never again heard from the man he had given a life and an opportunity to.  Tommy Mortimer was a free agent and he would never allow himself to grow close to anyone, that way no one could ever abandon him again.  After a couple of weeks of living the high life, Tommy decided he had to make the money start to work for him if he wanted to continue spending and living the lifestyle he had become accustomed to. Purchasing a rundown drinking bar that was situated above several shops on Kingsland Road in Hackney, Tommy set about turning it into the in-place to be.  Now rebranded the Den it was very successful for all of twelve months but in the late eighties when the recession started to bite, things took a downward turn.  Tommy went from earning a fortune every day to losing one every week.  He was in trouble and he needed help, help that would come in the form of one Taffy Jones a wannabe gangster.  Taffy traded in any drug you could name and Tommy soon found that if drugs were offered for sale in the club, the place was packed most nights.  Scared of getting closed down he quickly built up a client list outside of the Den that enabled him to run the place without risk and at the same time have a respectable business which would not bring any unwanted attention from the law.  Tommy now saw himself as a ladies' man and in his mind fantasized that women found him irresistible.  He would invite girls from the club to come into his office on the pretence of giving them a job and then force himself on them but he was always sure to pick his mark.  The girls had to look as if they were in desperate need of money, he didn't care if they were on the game or needed drugs as long as they kept their mouths shut.  After the deed had been carried out, he would shove a handful of notes into their hand and no more would be said.  It seemed to work for a long time but things would change one night in nineteen ninety-six.  Years later, events that had occurred that night would come back to haunt Tommy Mortimer.

CHAPTER ONE

December 1996

Peter Andre's 'Mysterious Girl' played loudly in the bedroom as Lizzie Chambers and her best friend Sonia were getting ready for a night out.  It was still two weeks until Christmas but both girls were already in the festive spirit.  The Chambers household on Ritchie Street Islington was never quiet but everyone seemed to muddle along just fine.  Lizzie being the only girl in a house full of men had her own room and although it was no more than a box room, she cherished her privacy.  Her father Mike had the front bedroom and her brothers Joey, Steve and Dave had bunks in the middle room.  Valerie Chambers had run off with the man from the provident when Lizzie was only four and although she had stayed in contact with her children for a few months, it had soon dwindled to just the odd birthday card and that was only when she was sober enough to remember.  At first, Mike had been heartbroken, Joey had only just turned ten years old and what with the three younger kids, his hands were full and it left little time for grieving.  Six years later when the first of his sons left school, Mike decided to start up his own building business.  He was a very capable bricklayer and Joey was good with figures so Mike reasoned that once they got the hang of things and if luck was on their side, they would do alright.  As time passed, father and son did better than alright and they worked on sites all over England.  There were times when they had to stay away and when that happened Iris Hutchins would be asked to look after the younger kids, for a fee of course.  Steve, Dave and Lizzie hated Iris Hutchins more than anything.  Dave said she smelled and there was always a fag hanging out of her mouth even when she was cooking their meals.  Steve would wind his brother and sister up by saying that he saw fag ash fall into the food, he hadn't but in all probability it had happened.  Iris was always dressed in a wartime wrap-around apron and her words seemed to sound like grunts to the children, so behind her back, they called her the pig.  The two boys were now teenagers and on many occasions, they had wanted to give Iris a piece of their mind but the fear of a good thrashing from their father on his return made them behave with impeccable manners.  Lizzie was only ten and Iris frightened her, she didn't know why but all the same, she would curl up each night between her brothers and it made her feel safe.  The years slowly passed and by the time Lizzie left school, Iris had passed away and her father and older brother now worked locally.  Mike Chambers adored his children and none more so than his only girl.  His sons, much to Mike's approval, were very protective of her but to Lizzie, it seemed they were overly protective and it sometimes made her feel as if she was being suffocated.  After a particularly bad showdown when someone saw a boy kissing Lizzie, Joey punched the lad in the mouth and Lizzie finally exploded.  A family meeting was called and she told them all, her father included, that unless they cut her a little slack she would leave.  Reluctantly they agreed and now once a week Lizzie and Sonia got dressed up to the nines and headed out to one of the local clubs.  Lizzie Chambers was now eighteen years old and was living life to the full.  A very pretty girl, she wore the latest fashions and was the envy of all of her friends.  One Saturday night, the girls had just finished getting ready and were giggling loudly as they reached the bottom of the stairs.  The laughter instantly stopped when they saw Joey emerge from the kitchen.

And where are you two off to tonight?

Lizzie did a twirl in the hallway.  Her leopard print mini skirt and white T-shirt hugged every curve and Joey raised his eyebrows in a disapproving manner.  Lizzie giggled and lifting her leg showed him the massive platform boots that she had bought down Chapel Street market earlier that afternoon.

What the fuck are they?

These, my lovely brother, are the same as Baby Spice wears.  Ain't they great?

Joey could only shake his head.

You'll break your bleeding neck!

Sonia was already out of the front door when she heard Joey call out to his sister.

Lizzie you didn't answer my question.  Where are you going tonight?

Lizzie Chambers rolled her eyes upwards as she answered and Joey only heard 'Lady Gray's' before the front door slammed.  The two girls walked a few yards before they spoke as they didn't want anyone to hear them.

Why did you say we were going there?

Because Sonia, if I'd told him we were going over to Hackney one of my brothers would be made to follow me.  They think I don't know but I've seen them plenty of times and it ain’t happening tonight I can tell you.

Lady Gray's was situated on Upper Street Islington and was a short walk from the family's home.  Joey decided to give it an hour and then either he or Steve would wander down there just to keep an eye on what Lizzie was up to.  Reaching the end of the road the girls hailed a cab and was soon on their way to 'The Den' on Kingsland Road Hackney.  They hadn't been to this particular club before but Sonia had it on good authority that they played the latest tunes and the place could get a bit wild at times.  As the cab pulled up outside, Sonia's face dropped, the club didn't look anything special and there were no neon lights or queues of people waiting to get inside.  Still, she didn't voice her disappointment and grabbing her friend's arm pushed open the door and walked into the ground-floor foyer.  Two doormen were leaning against the wall chatting and only gave the girls a passing glance before returning to their conversation.  A brassy-haired woman with scarlet red lipstick sat in a small booth behind a glass screen.  Walking up, Sonia and Lizzie handed over their five-pound entry fee and pushed their arms through a small gap so that the woman could rubber stamp the backs of their hands.  Lizzie stared into the woman's hard face and the sight of the cigarette hanging from her mouth made Lizzie momentarily think of Iris Hutchins.  The woman, whose name badge said Rita in bold black letters, looked up and seeing the distaste on Lizzie's face couldn't hold back from venting her anger.

What the fucks up with you?

Lizzie didn't answer and grabbing Sonia's arm the pair began their ascent up to the club.  It was three flights of stairs to get to the top and by the time they arrived Sonia was puffing and panting.  Pushing open the double swing doors the girls said in unison You're joking.  The place was all but deserted and it smelled heavily of old stale beer and cigarettes.  The decor was tired and outdated and they both knew it had been a big mistake coming here.

Now what do we do Sonia?

Well if we go back then we've wasted our entry fee and we'll have to pay again at Lady Gray's.  Now I ain’t got that much money, so what say we stay here, get pissed and hope it livens up later?

The girls linked arms and marched over to the bar.

Two Martini and lemonade please.

The barman looked them both up and down and ran his tongue over his lips as he did so.  Lizzie could feel her face flush with embarrassment but Sonia, who was a bit of a livewire, just giggled.  Glancing round the room the girls spied a group of lads sitting around a low table on stools.  Five or six local girls were dancing beside their handbags to Mark Morrison's 'Return of the Mack' but they didn't look too friendly.  By the time Lizzie and Sonia were on their third drink they had started to loosen up and when the Spice Girls 'Wannabe' began to play Lizzie couldn't hold back any longer.

Come on Sonia let's dance, I love this one.

Moving onto the dance floor, Lizzie began to sway to the music and the dance steps she'd practised from the telly night