Coleman was regretting his agreement to take Noreen on for an afternoon try-out in Chevrons.

Lara had a job persuading him. ’Noreen is the best barmaid in Cork. I swear she won’t let you down.’

‘Chelsea is not Cork,’ he said, looking across at Lara’s plain-faced Irish friend as she ran around the room with a tray of cheese and pineapple nibbles, one of Lara’s expensive bouclé jackets straining around her back.

‘Please, Coleman,’ she said. ‘For me.’

The launch party had been in its final dregs and Lara was a little drunk. Her eyes were full of flirtation. She touched the arm of his jacket. He smiled at her, despite himself. Business and pleasure was a bad mix, he told himself. And Lara was more than pleasure. Way more than pleasure. The fact that she was drunkenly flirting with him made it even worse.

Shirley was on holiday for three weeks. Visiting friends in Spain she told him. Not that Coleman had been interested. Shirley had been angry with him since he made Lara hostess, calling it a betrayal. He thought sometimes that Shirley could sense that he was in love with Lara. Women had intuitions he could never hope to understand. He avoided Shirley as much as he could these days, and was frankly relieved when she announced she was going away for three weeks. However, Shirley was still his most senior waitress and with Ethel gone after her recent marriage, Coleman was very short staffed. So, he agreed to give Noreen a trial on the lunchtime stripper shift the following day. Mistress Molly was on and some of her regulars were seedy weirdos. Things could sometimes get a bit grubby so Coleman was very particular about what women he let work the shift, and Arthur was always out front to make sure the audience never got physical with Molly. It was a mean trick, but if this nice Catholic Irish girl could survive a Chevrons lunchtime stripper shift, and if Brian was happy with her, he might be able to find her a spot before Shirley came back.

Noreen was not impressed with the setup behind the bar. The taps were dirty and the shelves were a mess – bottles everywhere, different brands with bits taken out of them – some on optics, some not. Brian was equally unimpressed that Coleman had sent a bird in to work behind the bar. An ugly one, too, who was looking around with a beady eye.

‘Will I take out these?’ she offered, lifting a bucket of empties from next to the full sink.

‘Put them down,’ he barked. ‘I’ll take them out later. Look, this is my bar, yeah? I know how things work back here. If you want to be useful, just wait the tables for me.’ Then, remembering she had been sent in by Coleman, he added an afterthought of chivalry, ‘There’s a good girl.’

Noreen said, ‘Yes sir!’ and clipped her forehead, which only riled him more.

However, Noreen didn’t mind. She had the best four hours of her working life. The windowless club had a plush, red interior and a small stage with a gold tinsel curtain at the back. When Molly came out in her minuscule bikini, Noreen was initially shocked, then almost instantly thrilled by the near nudity. The men were muted, some pretending not to look but glancing up furtively, others just talking among themselves. Arthur was sitting at the front of the stage looking out into the crowd, obviously guarding Molly. Noreen thought that was very chivalrous of him, and nodded across with a smile. She would not disturb him with chat while he was working. That would not be professional and it was important that she make the right impression on her first day. So Noreen did as Brian told her – waited the tables and tried to keep the customers happy. The men looked a bit awkward, some of them, so she went out of her way to put them at ease, letting them know there was nothing wrong with looking at a bit of flesh. They were paying customers. Worthy of respect, always.

‘There’s your drink now, sir, and if you want another just give me a wave.’ Within half an hour, the men felt like she had always been there and were ordering more drinks to flirt with the new Irish barmaid.

‘Wish I had breasts like that,’ she said nodding at Molly.

‘So do I,’ said prison beefcake Dennis Rogers.

‘Dennis already does!’ his friend quipped.

‘Go on,’ she said, ‘show us your tits Dennis.’

Noreen couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth. She would never get away with language like that at home. Nobody ever heard her say things like that, except John. But this was London and she was in a strip club. She could say what she liked!

Dennis pulled up his sweater and the whole place briefly erupted in hilarity.

When Molly was finished and leaving the stage, she initiated a large round of applause among the men, issuing a loud wolf whistle herself. For the first time in her ten years, Molly came out and did an encore, inviting Dennis up onto the stage to go topless and giving him her nipple tassels, which he did a pretty good job of jiggling himself. Noreen would have got up and joined them, but it was her first shift and she didn’t want to be presumptuous. Besides, there was a lot of clearing up to do. All in all Noreen was confident that her first afternoon had been a huge success. The customers were all waving and cheering at her as they left. There had been some quantity of drink consumed. Noreen knew that good chat made heavy thirst.

‘See you next week, Noreen,’ Dennis called as he went out the door.

When the last customer left and she was wiping down the tables Noreen was on a high.

‘How do you think I did?’ she asked Arthur, as he was locking the door.

‘Brilliant!’ said Molly, butting in. ‘Breath of fresh air! If things don’t work out here, I’ve a regular gig at the World’s End. They’d love you.’

Noreen beamed, but she wanted to stay here. She liked the atmosphere, and she already felt like she’d made a good friend and ally in Arthur. And as for Coleman? She’d like to get to know him better. What a dish!

However, Brian was already in with Coleman, telling him that Noreen had to go. ‘She drove me mad, fussing about behind the bar. And the state of her, Coleman? The men weren’t happy.’

Coleman had stuck his head out earlier and seen East End hit man Tippy Fleming and huge Dennis Rogers roaring their heads off laughing.

‘They seemed happy enough to me.’

‘Yeah well, she nearly caused a riot. She got the men all riled up. She threw a punter out earlier. He wasn’t happy, Coleman.’

‘Who?’

Brian didn’t want to say, but Coleman stared at him.

‘Whazzer Phillips,’ he eventually said, under his breath.

Coleman laughed out loud. Whazzer was their resident pervert. Even Shirley had been afraid to get rid of him. Brian’s chin set with irritation.

‘I want her out, Coleman. I can’t work with her. And Shirley will go mad when she gets back and finds her here.’

He was right about that. Shirley was bitchy enough these days without adding more fuel to the fire.

‘Alright, alright – send her in.’

Noreen stood in front of Coleman, beaming.

‘I’m afraid I can’t take you on.’

Noreen’s face collapsed.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, you’re just not… right for Chevrons.’

Noreen felt sick. She got it. This place employed beautiful women. Women like Molly, and Lara – even mousey Annie had worked here for a while. It was because she didn’t have the right figure or face. She wasn’t glamorous enough. Well, stuff him. She wasn’t going to stand for it. Noreen knew she had been red hot out there that afternoon and if Coleman didn’t want her, well then, she didn’t want to be here.

‘That’s OK – Molly already offered me work at World’s End and, oh, by the way? Your barman is on the take. Good luck!’ She headed for the door.

‘Woah. Wait a minute.’

Noreen stopped. She knew that would get his attention.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The World’s End pub? Maybe you’ve heard of…’

‘Not that. Brian.’

‘Oh that. So you’re not in on it?’

Coleman glared at her to continue. Angry. Brooding. Grrrr – what a hunk.

‘Well – when I was in earlier, cleaning up, I found a funnel under the sink with the cleaning gear. Just a regular, plastic, kitchen funnel. But who keeps a funnel in a bar unless they’re siphoning off drink? Then, Brian got all defensive when I asked if I could take out a bucket of empty bottles. He was most insistent I didn’t go near it, so when he was down in the cellar, I checked through and found these.’ She went outside the door and brought back in four full bottles of liquor she had hidden there earlier. ‘He’s been siphoning off stock and selling it back to the supplier,’ she said. Coleman looked furious. She could not be sure if he was angry with her or Brian. She didn’t care. He was pure gorgeous! ‘And he’s taking cash too. I saw him. Rang the till, put a twenty to the side of it.’

‘And I’m supposed to believe you over my barman of five years?’

‘I don’t care whether you believe me or not. I’m just letting you know that I served over £200 worth of drink on that shift. If that’s what Brian put through the till – I stand corrected. But I saw him pocket cash hand over fist and I’d say you’ll be lucky to see £100 of it.’

The lunchtime stripper shift had been underperforming for months. Fifty on average, just under a hundred on a good day. And Brian liked the gee-gees. Coleman had had his suspicions but Shirley had said there was no way. She had her eye on him and there was no way he was ripping him off. Coleman probably should have followed it up but the truth was he had been distracted. By Lara, the shop. He had taken his eye off the ball. People didn’t rip off Bobby Chevron. Not if they wanted to stay alive. It was Coleman’s job to make sure the books tallied. This was bad news.

‘Brian said you insulted a customer earlier.’

Noreen flushed.

‘He was interfering with himself. It was disrespectful to Molly. The rule is “no physical contact”. I saw him making physical contact with himself so I kicked him out. No fuss. Just told him I knew what he was playing at and quietly showed him the door.

‘He was still a customer.’

‘Not much of a customer. Any man who spends that much time with his hands in his pockets isn’t drinking.’

Coleman raised his eyebrows. That was true. And they’d been trying to find a way of dealing with that weirdo Whazzer for months. None of the muscle would go near him. They were afraid to touch him. This girl, it seemed, wasn’t afraid of anything. Coleman liked that.

‘Alright. You can come back for the evening shift. Can you really run a bar?’

‘If you pay me you might find out.’

‘I’ll start you on the same wage as the floor girls to see how you do. Then we’ll take it from there.’

‘How about you start me on the same wage as Brian, and I don’t rob you blind?’

She was standing there, directly eyeballing him with more honest hutzpah than any man he had ever faced down. Coleman pursed his lips then reluctantly nodded. He had no choice.

‘Good,’ Noreen said. ‘I’ll be back in two hours to clean up that bar before opening time. Arthur can help me do a proper stock take so we all know exactly where we are.’

She held out her hand, like she saw her father do with his business associates, and said, ‘Coleman. You can trust me.’

Coleman shook Noreen’s hand and after she had left, lit a cigarette, drawing the smoke down deep into his lungs.

Although he didn’t like to admit it, Coleman trusted Noreen already.

Which was more than he could say for his other female manager. Because, if Brian was scamming the bar in such a stupid way, there was no way that Shirley didn’t know about it. She must be in on it too.