Dream London by Tony Ballantyne Read Free Book Online

place?” I asked.
    “When we bought it, it wasn’t just Alan,” she said.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Now, of course, he struggles to pay the mortgage.”
    “Things are tough all over,” I said, without sympathy. Rents were rising all over the city, families were being forced into the workhouse. It was every man for himself in Dream London, and the women had to hope that some man would look after them.
    The eggs joined the bacon on the warming plate. She swiftly cut two slices of white bread and dropped them in the pan.
    “It was easier with two salaries,” she said, reflectively. “Of course, when the changes began, I saw the way things were going. I took voluntary redundancy before I was pushed out.”
    She dropped the bread onto the plate and brought it to me. I began to eat. Margaret fetched the coffee pot and two fresh cups then sat down opposite me. Her ample bosom spilled over the top of her dress as she leant forward. She smiled at me, clearly a woman of huge appetites.
    “You’re a good looking man,” she said. “I can see why Alan is attracted to you.”
    “What does Alan do in the City?” I asked, not wanting to go down that road. She held my gaze for a moment or two. Then her eyes slid away.
    “Used to be finance. Still is, I suppose. Now they underwrite the ships that set off sailing to the other places. They place bets on what might be brought back down the river.”
    “What ships? What other places?”
    She sipped her coffee once more.
    “Where do you think all the new stuff comes from? You know, it’s just the ships at the moment, sailing down the River Roding. It’s going to get a lot worse soon. Once they open up other paths here.”
    “Mmm.” I concentrated on eating. The duck eggs tasted unusual in a breakfast.
    “You know the changes began in the City?” said Margaret. “The banks sold a stake in the City to someone they shouldn’t. They let something gain a toehold...”
    “I’d heard that,” I said.
    “The City keeps it quiet. That shouldn’t surprise you. They were never exactly forthcoming about holding up their hands to mistakes in the past, were they?”
    I finished my breakfast, mopped up egg yolk with the last piece of bread. My favourite part of the meal.
    Margaret was gazing into the distance now.
    “It started in East London. I remember seeing how the buildings there were growing taller as I went to work. Back then I thought it was just my imagination, but no...” She gulped down some more coffee and topped up her mug from the pot. “The houses in Whitechapel began to subside into slums...”
    I leant back in my chair and took a deep sigh.
    “The first time I became aware was when my flat began to shrink,” I said. “No, that wasn’t it. I went to buy screws to put up shelves, and the shop wasn’t there anymore. I couldn’t even find the street. I walked up and down all afternoon looking for it...”
    I drained my cup. Margaret refilled it.
    “Have you got a cigarette?” I asked.
    She brightened up at that.“I thought you’d never ask.”
    She produced a purple pack and a box of yellow matches. She pulled us out an oval turkish cigarette each and lit them, mine first, and then hers.
    She brightened even more as she inhaled.
    “That’s better,” she said, exhaling blue smoke. “One of the benefits of the changes. Cigarettes coming back into fashion.”
    We smoked in companionable silence for a while, sipping at our coffee.
    “Do you have a girlfriend?” asked Margaret, suddenly.
    I shook my head.
    “She bought one of those lists of men,” I said, pausing to take another drag. “She’s searching for her ideal partner.”
    “Your name wasn’t on the list, I take it.”
    I shrugged.
    “I often think about buying one of those lists myself,” said Margaret. “But then I tell myself things could be a lot worse. The way things are going in Dream London being a housewife is about be the best choice for women, don’t you think?”
    I didn’t answer.