Marwell.'
'Why him?'
'Got to be, darling. He rang me this morning and told me to look out for
something in the post. He was rather mysterious about it. Besides, dirty
pictures are his line of business. And you know he's shagging Curly
now that her old man can't get it up any longer.'
I nodded. It all made sense. Of a sort. Mama rang Curly for the use of a
bedroom, and Billy was with Curly at the time. Mama and the boys
arrived, Curly went out, and Billy was hidden behind the two-way
mirror.
'So, Billy Marwell is putting the squeeze on us. Charming.... How
much does he want?'
'Hasn't said yet.'
'Is Curly in on it?
'Not on the blackmail, no. I doubt that. But she may have asked him to
take some piccies, since I wouldn't let her watch.'
Or join in, I thought. But I didn't mention that.
'When was this?'
'About a week ago.'
'Are the boys still in London?'
'No. They sailed on the Queen Elizabeth on Monday. They've got a
six-month contract on a cruise ship out of Florida.'
I nodded again. I hope I seemed calm, but inwardly my heart was
pounding and I was afraid I might have to be sick. I needed fresh air.
'Well, leave it with me, Mama,' I managed to say. 'I shall have to have a
think about what we're going to do.'
*
I put on a scarf and overcoat, picked up my stick, and went out into the
dusk for a walk.
It was the middle of December, 1960, and I had just finished my first
term at Oxford. Elvis was number one, with 'It's Now or Never'. All
was well with the world - except that we were being blackmailed.
I knew a bit about blackmail, because Jack was an expert.
Jack, you see, was my father. Nominally. Mama would never tell me
who my biological father was - in fact she would never tell anyone. She
said that my real father had never wanted to know me, and that was that.
I never pressed her because I wasn't interested.
Mama got pregnant when she was seventeen. By mistake, I think. And
although she could have got rid of me easily enough - she certainly had
the contacts - she chose to let me go full term. But she did decide to get
married. And since my real father had disappeared, as she put it, she
knew just the right stand-in.
Jack Grebanier was an actor. Not too well known before the war, but
later he became a film star. In the David Niven and Michael Wilding
class. Jack had problems, however, because he was gay - or queer, as it
was called in those days. And recently he'd had an unfortunate
experience when he tried to pick up the wrong man in the gents
lavatory at Piccadilly underground station. He was very drunk at the
time, he told me, otherwise he would never have been so foolish.
Anyway, Jack's target turned out to be a plain-clothes policeman, and it
cost Jack fifty quid in used oncers to settle the matter. Fifty pounds was
an awful lot of money in 1940, and after that Jack became something of
a connoisseur in blackmail.
One afternoon in the Haymarket, he pointed across the street. 'See that
man over there, in the spectacularly vulgar brown suit?'
'Yes.'
'He has lived for years by blackmailing...' And he named a well-known
Hollywood actor.
Back in 1940 Jack's needs and Mama's needs coincided. Too many
people were beginning to mutter about Jack's sexuality, so it would do
him no harm to be respectably married, with a family on the way. And
Mama was smart enough to know that being a single mother was
definitely not a good idea. So, at her suggestion, they got together.
They stayed together until I went to Follington, at the age of thirteen.
Then they divorced.
Follington was Jack's old school - he came from a good middle-class
family with some money in the background - and although it's not one
of the famous public schools it does a pretty good job. And that
connection with Jack's posh family is the reason why I call Mama
Mama, you see. It helped to make peace with Jack's parents, who
weren't too thrilled with him marrying a Windmill girl. But then, it was
wartime, and these things happen. And Mama soon charmed them into
accepting her. She charmed everyone.
*
That afternoon - the day we found out that Mama was being
blackmailed - I went out into the dusk and walked down to Berwick
Street market.
I think I had already realised that I was going to have to kill Billy
Marwell, but I wanted to think
![](qr/224/2.png)
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.