Chapter 1: London; 1960s
The first time Rosaline Dawson stepped off the plane onto British soil was at the age of 8. It was summer vacation and she and her older sister were visiting their father and their paternal grandparents. Their grandparents lived on the outskirts of London where the urban city turned into the suburbs. They had a nice 3 story house, wrap around porch and a pool in the back. She loved it there. For once, she did not have to share a room with her messy sister and her pet rabbit could roam her room freely without her worrying for the pet. Nana made sunday dinner every week after the church services and all the neighbors would come over, crowd around the dinner table and eat after saying grace. She even began to make friends. Rose went back to London every summer after that for the rest of her school years.
At the age of 26, she finds herself back here by the request of her friend. Her name is Frances Shea. Her and Frances looked alike, the two women could pass for sisters if they'd like. They sure felt like sisters. Although they did have a few similar features, there were differences in their appearances, as there should be. Frances had straight short red-brown hair where as Rose had long Irish red hair that fell to the back of her knees in thick waves. Rose was about the same height as Frances, she only stood at 5 feet but she had more body to her than Frances did. Rose had vibrant light green eyes while Frances has warm honey brown ones.
The two women met as teenagers about 10 years prior to this day and have been inseparable since. Although Rose was about two years younger than her friend, Frances did not mind because Rosaline had always been mature for her age. Their grandmothers were friends and had introduced them to one another and they decided to give one another a try. Frances was just friendly that way and Rose simply did not have that many friends in London. A lot of her childhood friends had either moved or she had lost contact with them. But there were a few who had stuck around; like her friend Georgina Wilson.
Rose exited the plane via the ramp and looked around the airport, taking in her surrounding. She was dressed in a cremé lace bodice with a matching high waisted pencil skirt that hugged her legs just above her knees. The skirt framed her body in a such a way to accentuate her hips and firm bottom. Her calves were bare and she wore nude leather shoes with a red bottom and a strap across the ankle. They gave her about four inches in height. Rose knew London air was a bit chilly so she wore a white leather jacket. Her long hair was pulled up into a messy high ponytail that framed her face and cascaded down her shoulder. A soft green knit sweater hung over her arm and her bang rested on her shoulder, the long metal chain handle clinking with every move.
Her Louis Vuitton heels clicked against the tiled flooring of the airport as she walked, her hips swaying just a tad. Rose stopped at the conveyor belt to retrieve her luggage and once done, she made her way to the front entrance and sat on the bench to wait for Frances to arrive at the same spot she always does. They never changed the spot. It made it easy to see one another should one of them arrive earlier than expected.
After about 10 minutes, Rose didn't see Frances' car pull up so she began to worry. Frances was never over 10 minutes late, the woman was actually very punctual so her tardiness bewildered Rose to some point.
'She should be here by now,' Rose thought to herself. She gripped the handle of her luggage tighter and pressed her lips together as she watched car after car, taxi after taxi and bus after bus leave. She watched people come and go, some alone, some with one or two people, others in full groups of 4+. Some people were dressed in fancy suits and dresses, while others were dressed more casually. But her worry began to fade when she saw a sleek black car pull up in front of the airport and slim legs creep out.
When Frances exited the car, her eyes scanned the crowds for a second before they settled on the entrance. She was dressed in a simple form fitting green silk dress with a simple pair of white flats with a flower on to top and her redish brown hair was pulled into a stylish yet elegant up do that suited the woman.
'She's finally here," Rose thought to herself with a smile. She stood up and made her way outside to her friend and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Frances turned and a big smile made its way onto her face, showing off her pearly white teeth.
"You're finally here!" Frances exclaimed as she dragged Rose into a tight hug. Rosaline returned the hug with a smile of her own. She lowered the pulley on her luggage and put it into the trunk of the car. Once she was done, both women made their way into the backseat of the car.
"Georgina's house please," Frances told the driver who nodded and set the car into drive. Once he had the light, the car pulled off into the busy streets of midday London.
"So…" Rose began with the raise of her perfectly shaped brow, "how's your mom?"
Frances shrugged a bit with a pout on her face, "she's still bitchin, me mum. But hey, what am I to do y'know." Her thick cockney accent clashed against Rose's Yankee one but the two women did not mind. In fact, they both found it quite refreshing in every way.
Eventually, the car ride grew silent but not in an uncomfortable manner, in a soothing one. Rosaline watched as the buildings slowly went by and she began to take interest. She made a mental note of the stores she wanted to hit before she had to head back to America at the end of New Years. She saw new boutiques and she certainly placed those stores on the top of her list. Frances wasn't much of a shopper but Georgina was so she'd at least have one person to accompany her.
After about maybe 10 minutes or so, the car turned off the main road onto a quiet lane where only four houses sat there across each other. The chauffeur pulled up to the second house on the right hand side of the street. He then shut off the car and opened the door for both women before going to the trunk and pulling out Rose's three trunks of luggage. She thanked him politely when he placed them on the ground in front of the gate.
"Would you like to come inside for something to eat?" Rose asked Frances. Everyone who knew Rosie knew she loved to cook and bake and everyone loved her food. So when Rosaline offered Frances a plate of food, how could she possibly say no?
"Sure, I'd love that, thank you," Frances said softly with a smile. Rose smiled back and with a nod, she grabbed the biggest and heaviest trunk and headed to the door with her key. Her friend picked up the two smaller, lighter trunks and followed after her.
"Do you think Georgie's home?" Frances asked. Rose shook her head.
"She told me she would be at her boutique when I got here and to swing by if I'd like after I got settled in."
Rose unlocked the door and the two women hustled themselves inside. They left the trunks at the door in a neat stack, kicked off their shoes and headed right to the kitchen, no time wasted. Frances sat at the table while Rose washed her hands. Once done, she set about looking through the cabinets to see what was in them. To her surprise, the cabinets were bare empty. Like Frances, Georgina wasn't much of a cook, but dang it, would it kill her to stock up since she knew Rosie was flying in.
"This is a load of jelly, just a whole slop of it," Rosie said softly to herself yet loud enough for Frances to hear. She was busy off into space when she had heard that. It instantly piqued her interest and she looked up from her hands, "What is it?"
"Georgie must have forgotten to stock up on groceries. These cabinets are bare empty."
"Well me mum's cookin. I'm sure she won't mind making for you and Georgie if you help'er out with the cookin and errythin," Frances offered. Rose nodded her head.
"Alright. I'll call Georgie and let her know what's up and we can head to your house afterwards. And tomorrow, we can meet up and go grocery shopping; spend the day together, us three." Rose grabbed the telephone and spinned in the number to Gina's boutique but she received no answer, which she told Frances who simply shrugged it off. Frances smiled at her best friend, a smile that was returned. The two women pulled on their shoes, grabbed their purses and headed out the door. Rosie made sure to pull the door in after her because it won't lock otherwise.
"You up for a walk? The weather's nice today, in'it?" Frances asked.
"It is nice today but I'm in heels my friend so we are not walking," Rosie replied before walking to the main street to hail a taxi. Frances trotted along behind her with bewilderment.
"Where're you going?"
"To hail a taxi, Franny."
"Just where do you think you are? You're not in Brooklyn anymore toto." Frances teased with a smile. Her words caused Rosie to stop mid stride and turn to face the short red-brunette with question clearly written on her face.
"What do you mean?"
"This is East End, silly. Have you been away for so long you forgot? This is not New York. You can't just whistle yourself a ride here," Frances spoke with a snicker. Rose simply rolled her eyes.
"So what do you suggest we do?"
"Let's go back to your house and I'll give me brother a ring. See if he can swing by and pick us up. If he can't you're going to change those heels and we're walkin."
They weren't able to reach Frank, Frances' older brother so like she said, Rosie had to change her shoes. Not liking the sound of that, Rosie decided to change her whole entire outfit. She settled on a navy blue shirt with white pants and black flats. Once she was dressed, the two women walked their way to the Shea household for dinner.
"You look nice in trousers," Frances complimented her. Rosie smiled and gave a soft "thank you" back. Other than that, they walked in soothing silence. The walk wasn't that long, about 10 minutes. Rose could have kept her heels on but the brick pavement would have chewed up her sole and she'd have to get it replaced.
The one thing Rosaline did not like about Frances's home was the huge step off the ground. 'Whomever built the place was a jackhat,' Rose thought to herself as she climbed up the high single step.
Once inside Frances's home, Rosie kicked off her shoes and headed into the kitchen where Frances' mom was. The further she went into the home, the more Rosie could smell the food cooking, 'her mom must have got the food fresh,' Rosie thought to herself.
"Hi Mrs. Shea," Rosie said when she entered the kitchen. Her greeting caused the older women to look up with a frown but one look at Rosie caused it to turn into a smile. Rosie gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek; Mrs. Shea was a mother to her whenever she came to London growing up.
"Hello dear, how was your flight? I heard it was raining when you had left."
"It was alright, I was next to this nice lady when knitted me a sweater."
"Well that's just wonderful. Are you staying for dinner dear?"
"Yes, ma'am. Would you like me to help?"
"No, no, that's fine. You just flew in. Go on up stairs to Frances and relax. The jet lag'll be setting in soon."
Rose nodded and headed out the kitchen, up the stairs and to the right. Frances's room was right there at the landing and the door was wide open. Frances always had her door open, she felt that she had nothing to hide from anyone in her family.
When Rosie entered her room, she found Franny sprawled across the full sized bed, a lemon sherbet popped in her mouth. Rose could hear her sucking on it and she could also hear it swirling in her tongue.
Rosaline pulled up the chair to the vanity and looked at her friend's body shrewn across the bed, "Don't you ever get tired of those sour things?" She was referring to the sour candy in her friend's mouth.
Frances gave a sound of disapproval and continued sucking on the small oval shaped candy, "I love these sweets. I would buy out the stores if I had to," she said back with a laugh.
She sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, her hand going straight for the nightstand draw. Frances pulled it open, revealing a small bag of lemon sherbets. She jiggled the bag and held it out to her friend as a way to offer her one.
Rose declined, "No thank you. They're too sour for me."
Frances shrugged and simply threw them back into the draw and closed it shut once more, "Oh well, your loss but more for me."
"You're going to ruin your dinner that way."
At that moment, Frances' mother called up the steps and said that dinner would be ready in five minutes and that she wanted the two girls to come and set the table. They both got up, Rose silently while Frances groaned and headed down the steps.
The two women set about dressing the table for dinner quietly yet quickly and efficiently. They've learned that when Mrs. Shea asked you to do something, the best thing to do is do it quickly and get it over with or face the consequences.
The three women sat down at the table and ate dinner together. There was idle chatter, mostly between Frances and Rosaline but Mrs. Shea joined in on the conversation every once in awhile. Rose talked about her family and how they were doing. She also spoke about how she had just finished medical school. Which lead to Frances practically begging Rosie to stay in London a bit longer seeing as she had nothing immediate or pressing back in America. And with that reasoning, Rosaline obliged, causing Frances to smile.
Mrs. Shea called it a night first and told the two women they were on dish duty. They gave a round of good nights to her with promises to get them done. The two females spent the night laughing and chatting it up. They did one another's hair, nails and makeup and even picked out Frances' outfit for tomorrow. They did everything but the dishes. Needless to say, when Mrs. Shea awoke the next morning, she had a fit.
Rose awoke to Mrs. Shea practically dragging the two women out of bed with a list of chores. She said that since they didn't want to do the dishes when asked, they had to clean the whole house. She wanted it spotless and pristine.
With a sigh, the two women set about cleaning, but not before Frances popped a lemon sherbet into her mouth, causing Rose to chuckle and roll her eye playfully. About 10 minutes into their chores, there was a knock on the door. Frances and Rose shared a look before Frances turned off the kitchen sink, and went to answer the door, leaving Rose to finish up the rest of the dishes which she did quickly. She assumed it was a man by how deep the voice sounded. There were some words passed before Rose heard Frances yell for Frank.
'Must be someone here looking for him,' Rose thought to herself. She then heard some idle chatter between Frances and the unknown male so she dried her hands and made her way to the door. When she saw who it was, she instantly tried to turn tail and flea, but she was spotted before she had the chance.
"Well hello Rose," the man said cheerfully. Rose plastered a fake smile on her face and inched closer to the door.
"Hi Reginald," Rose said stiffly through clenched teeth. He gave her smile, one she did not return.
"I'd no idea you were back in London, when did you return?" He asked trying to make idle chit chat with the short red head.
"Last night."
Reginald nodded his head in understanding as he continued to suck on the candy he had taken from Frances, "You know, I'm going to see Ron today. You should-"
"No," Rose said firmly, cutting him off because she knew he was going to ask her to come with him to visit. She wished the man would catch a hint already, sending mail to the US was not cheap, yet Ron found a way to get at least 3 letters to her a month, most likely begging her to come and visit him in prison. She didn't know because she had decided she was going to move on from Ronald Kray and so she did not read them. When Ron first got sent to jail for grievous bodily harm, she and Reggie kept in contact. She visited Ron as much as she could until she had to head back home to New York City for school. It wasn't until Ron was transferred to the mental hospital did she try to cut off all contact with the Krays; but to no avail.
"He's been asking about you."
"Let him ask until it takes his last breath then," Rose spat out softly yet harshly before turning to Frances, "close the door, hurry up."
Rose moved away from the door and headed back into the house, leaving Frances on the stoop with Reggie Kray. He took the half eaten sweet out his mouth and handed it back to her with a smile and she popped it back into her mouth with a light laugh before stepping back and closing the door.
Reggie stood there looking at the burgundy red door before licking his fingers and heading back to the car. After a minute or two, Frank came out the house and the three men were off. In the car, Reggie questioned Frank about his sister who replied that his sister was a very fragile women. And she was.
Frances Shea was a very fragile, delicate, sensitive woman.
