East End Jubilee (12 page)

‘Yes, but the law has been very unhelpful. It was Inspector Williams who opposed bail.’

Benny shook his head slowly. ‘I don’t know anyone called Syd at The Lock. I’ll ask Ted when I go up next.’

Rose sighed. ‘If this Syd was selling stolen stuff he wouldn’t want to be seen there again, would he?’

‘No, but you never know.’

‘We made sure the girls was all right, Auntie Rose.’ Alan stood up and combed back his hair, causing his father to grimace.

Rose smiled. ‘That’s nice of you, Alan.’

‘We’re going out now, Dad.’

‘Where to?’

‘Down the park.’

‘Be in before dark.’

‘But it’s almost dark now.’

Benny stood up, his strong, broad-shouldered body filling the room. ‘No it ain’t. You’ve got an hour. And if you’re not home before ten, watch your backs, because
I’ll be standing right behind you. With me belt.’

The two boys went out and Benny rolled his dark eyes. Rose smiled. ‘I’m sure they can be trusted.’

‘Well, I ain’t about to take the chance.’ He gave her a grin. ‘Don’t forget. I’ll take you to Brixton next time, Rose. Just give me a few days’ notice.
Eddie’s been a good mate to me.’

‘That’s nice of you, Benny.’

Rose was left alone, listening to the sounds of the Mendoza household. Benny was off for a quick pint, the boys to chat up their girls. Anita came in with a tray, Donnie and Marlene
following.

‘Thank the Lord, we’ve got a bit of peace at last. Girls, give your mum a plate. Rose, help yourself to a sandwich.’ Anita set the tray down on the table.

Rose grinned. ‘This looks lovely.’

‘Bet you haven’t eaten all day.’

Rose hadn’t had the stomach for food lately. In fact she’d been feeling very queasy, no doubt the result of all the shocks. But as she swallowed the soft white bread and tasty
cheese, the food tasted like manna.

As they ate the two girls excitedly told her how David and Alan had escorted them home and entertained them with stories about the Travers sisters.

‘More than I blooming get to know,’ Anita scowled, winking at Rose.

‘You girls can go out and play for half an hour if you want,’ Rose offered and glanced at Anita.

‘Thanks, Mum.’ They jumped to their feet. ‘Thank you for the nice tea, Auntie Neet.’

‘Don’t go far,’ Rose warned as they bolted.

Anita grinned as she moved to sit next to Rose. ‘Right, now you can tell me all about it.’

Rose relayed all the events of the afternoon now that the girls were out of earshot. As she talked, relaxing at last from the tension of the day, she felt so grateful to her neighbours.

What would she do without friends like these?

On Friday morning Rose went to buy bread at the corner shop. Charlie was serving, his lean frame bent over as he rummaged in the boxes behind the counter. Cissy and Fanny were
in front of her but turned as the doorbell tinkled.

‘Hello there, love.’

Rose nodded. She hoped she wasn’t going to be drawn into conversation. But before anyone could speak there was a shout from the storeroom.

‘For Gawd’s sake, get a move on, Charlie!’ Joan’s command caused her husband to pass the bottom of his apron across his forehead. ‘We’ve had a delivery and it
needs to be brought in out of the rain.’

‘’Ang on a minute, love, I’m trying to find them matches.’ He lifted the wooden boxes that were stacked in front of the shelves and sighed. ‘Where are those blessed
things?’

‘You need yer specs.’ Cissy was watching the situation closely.

‘No he don’t,’ Fanny disagreed as usual. ‘Look, there they are.’

‘Them’s the lav rolls. Them soft ones that don’t scratch your bum.’

‘What a waste of money too,’ Fanny sniffed. ‘You can’t do better than newspaper.’

‘You gotta move with the times,’ Cissy argued as the grocer unearthed more boxes. ‘And at my age you like a bit of comfort.’

‘Which you pay for,’ Fanny noted, tugging the collar of her old tweed coat up to her ears. ‘Don’t make sense to me. Your arse is as hard as nails by now. You could wipe
it with glass and you wouldn’t feel a thing.’

‘How would you know what me bum is like?’ demanded Cissy coarsely. ‘It ain’t you that wipes it.’

‘Who wants the matches?’ Joan entered the shop breathlessly, carrying a brown paper bag.

‘Me.’ Cissy smiled broadly. ‘Have you found where they were hid?’

‘They weren’t hidden.’ Joan frowned at her husband who was now kneeling on the floor. ‘They were in the storeroom where they always are.’

‘In a nice safe place,’ Fanny echoed.

‘Which I didn’t know about,’ Charlie complained as he hoisted himself to his feet with difficulty.

‘Yes you did.’ His wife tipped the bag on the counter and the boxes of Swan Vestas toppled out. ‘I’ve told you a dozen times where I keep them.’

‘Yeah, but he’s got a lot of things on his mind, ain’t you Charlie?’ Cissy threw a sly glance at Joan. ‘I mean, shifting all this heavy stuff around and everything,
he’s on the go all day long I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘So am I, Mrs Hall, so am I,’ Joan said sharply. ‘I ain’t sitting out the back with me feet up you know.’

‘O’ course love,’ Fanny nodded, grabbing the matches and shovelling them in her pocket. ‘I dunno how you do it.’

‘It ain’t easy.’ Joan was watching where the matches went. ‘And there’s all the accounts to do as well.’

‘You work too bloody hard,’ Fanny commiserated, throwing a glance at Charlie. ‘Why don’t you get someone in to help?’

‘She’s got me, that’s why,’ Charlie growled.

‘You ain’t no spring chicken,’ Cissy observed. ‘You’ll do yer back in lifting heavy.’

Rose was only half listening to the conversation. Her mind was still on the prison visit. The smell of the visiting room hadn’t gone from her nose.

‘That’s three and six for you, Mrs Grover, and three and eightpence for you, Mrs Hall, including the matches,’ Joan calculated, bundling their shopping into the straw baskets
on the counter. She glanced at Rose apologetically. ‘Won’t be a mo, love.’

‘That’s all right.’

Cissy and Fanny struggled with their purses. ‘Bung it on the slate, Joan. We’ll settle up Friday.’

‘There’s already five bob outstanding,’ Joan pointed out as they snapped closed the edges of their frayed shopping baskets.

‘Don’t we always pay up?’

Joan didn’t reply and Charlie shuffled off.

As Cissy turned to leave she looked at Rose. ‘We saw the bit about your old man in the newspaper. What nick’s he in?’

Rose was on the verge of giving the nosy parker short shrift, but in a way she was relieved that Eddie’s name had finally been mentioned. ‘Brixton,’ she said and saw the look
of delight spread across Cissy’s face.

‘I knew someone whose cousin was there,’ the old woman crowed, tugging at Fanny’s sleeve. ‘It ain’t no place to wind up either. It’s like a whopping big
dungeon inside and out, ain’t it?’

With a growing sense of dread, Rose was forced to acknowledge just how accurate Cissy was and for a few seconds more she attempted to listen politely as her elderly neighbour regaled them with
the gruesome details. But eventually Rose had to ignore the tirade and turned quickly to Joan. ‘I’d like a small loaf, please.’

But Cissy was not done. ‘Is ’e up before the beak soon? How long do you think he’ll get?’

‘Was that telly really stolen?’

‘What you gonna do if ’e goes down for a long stretch?’

Then Fanny said her piece. ‘Them girls of yours’ll suffer. Poor little blighters. You hear of some kids who don’t know their own fathers when they’ve done their
time.’

Cissy nodded fiercely. ‘Miss all their growing up some blokes do and then parents wonder why their kids go off the rails these days.’

Joan, with eyebrows raised, gave Rose a wink. ‘Anything else, love?’

Rose stared at the walls and shelves, the piles of tatty boxes behind the counter and the plastic container where the perishables were kept. She felt hot and dizzy, her mind becoming a blank.
Despite her earlier resolution to put on a brave face, Cissy and Fanny had done more than enough damage to her equilibrium.

She swallowed. ‘I . . . er, want . . . some potatoes, please.’

‘Charlie!’ yelled Joan. ‘Bring in the spuds!’

Rose listened for the bell to go behind her. She was feeling very dizzy. Everything seemed to be on the move, including her legs, which had gone weak at the knees.

‘Are you all right, love?’

She didn’t know if she was or not. The next thing she knew everything went black. She didn’t know how long she was out, but when she opened her eyes she was sitting on a sack of
potatoes. ‘Drink this slowly, gel.’ It was Charlie, holding a cup to her mouth.

She sipped the cold water. ‘What happened?’

‘You fainted, ducks, and no wonder with them troublemakers squawking like two constipated parrots. I’ve sent ’em on their way.’ The elderly man hovered over her.
‘How do you feel?’

‘Better, thanks.’

‘Charlie, wave this newspaper in her face.’ Joan put her arm around her shoulders and eased her forward. ‘Take it easy, ducks.’

‘I don’t know what came over me.’

Joan grabbed the paper from her husband. ‘Wave it like a fan, you silly sod, not a bloody bargepole.’

‘I’m all right,’ Rose smiled weakly.

‘It was that daft pair,’ Charlie accused again, nodding to the door. ‘They’re bloody menaces.’

‘Don’t take what they say to heart,’ Joan advised gently. ‘You’ll get one or two round here who need a lesson in manners. But in the main, folk have good hearts in
this neighbourhood.’

Rose nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘They catch you unawares, that’s the trouble,’ Joan murmured in a kindly fashion. ‘I remember feeling just the same when our Dave ran off with that Mrs Watkins from
Manington Road. Charlie and me had to harden up a bit with all the gossip going on.’

Rose looked up at the smooth round face staring down at her. ‘That must have been awful.’

‘It was five years ago now but seems like yesterday. And all the rotten things they said about Dave when he’d gone, still stabbing him in the back even though he wasn’t around
to defend himself. But as I say, the majority of people are kind souls round here and knew he was a good boy at heart, but for a while he could have been a mass murderer for what the few said about
him.’ Joan’s eyes watered. ‘You still blame yourself, you know, even if your kid is twenty-five and old enough to know better, like our Dave was. But he fell in love with a
married woman and that was that.’ Joan heaved another sigh. ‘So you see, young lady, you must look to the future and leave the past behind.’

Rose stood up shakily. ‘Yes, I’m trying.’

Charlie kept his hand under her arm. ‘Do you want me to walk you home?’

‘No, I’ll manage, thanks.’

Joan handed her the loaf and a few potatoes heaped in a bag. ‘They’re on the house, love.’

Rose protested, but Charlie opened the door. ‘Give them kids something nice to eat for dinner.’

When she got home she was sweating and still felt very peculiar. She placed the potatoes and bread in the larder and sat in the front room, hauling in breath.

Everyone knew about Eddie now, since they’d all read the
Evening Gazette
and gossip was inevitable. Rose didn’t want to blame Eddie, especially as he had seen the error of his
ways. As Joan had said, the past is over and done with, the future is what counts. But Rose had to admit to herself she still felt annoyed and, to an extent, deceived. Was her reaction because of
the money? He had maintained she’d never wanted to know about his business affairs and he had a point. But there could have been a dreadful catastrophe if the police had lifted those
floorboards. If Eddie had been falsely accused of assault what would they have dreamed up over the five hundred pounds?

Later, she peeled the potatoes ready for dinner, then dusted. Afterwards she had a step to polish. And polish it she would.

She had just applied a coat of Red Cardinal to the front step when a pair of brown shoes appeared beside it. They were shiny and well heeled and she looked up slowly, noting
the carefully pressed trousers of the smart dark suit. The clean-shaven face above was unfamiliar to Rose. She climbed to her feet.

He smiled. ‘My name is Bobby Morton. I wondered if you would like to read one of these?’ He held out a sheet of paper.

‘What is it?’

‘The fact is I’ve taken a shop in Amethyst Way and thought I’d come round and introduce myself.’

‘So you’re not a tally man, then?’

He took a few moments for this to sink in, then laughed. ‘Do I look like one?’

‘You can never tell these days.’

He smiled pleasantly. ‘All I want to do is talk about my shop and put the word out that I’ve opened.’

‘Is it the one that was boarded up?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, you know it?’

‘I take the kids to the newsagents sometimes to buy sweets.’

‘Well, I hope you’ll stop by on your next visit and have a look round.’

Rose glanced suspiciously at the pile of papers in his hand. ‘What are you selling?’

‘I’m an electrician and starting off in a small way by doing repairs. But I hope to stock things soon like vacuum cleaners, washing machines and televisions. The big stores like
Gamages are selling them like hot cakes. Especially televisions which have really caught on now.’

Rose thrust the leaflet back. ‘I don’t want any, thank you – especially a television!’

‘Well, take the leaflet. It won’t bite.’

‘No,’ Rose refused emphatically. ‘I’m not interested.’

‘But why?’ The young man frowned. ‘Did you know that it’s possible to buy a television on hire purchase these days? After the initial deposit of ten pounds, the weekly
repayments are only one and sixpence. And for all the enjoyment the family would reap, you’d consider the purchase well worthwhile.’

‘Look, I don’t want to be rude,’ Rose said coolly, ‘but the answer’s no.’

‘And I thought you looked the friendly sort,’ he sighed dismally.

‘Well, you thought wrong. And as I have two young children and a house to run, I’m very busy—’