East End Jubilee (14 page)

‘I gotta go out soon,’ Alan yelled back, inured to his mother’s wit.

‘Where?’

‘Just out.’

‘You’re going nowhere till your father comes in.’

‘Aw, but it’s Saturday night!’

‘I don’t care if it’s Christmas,’ Anita bellowed back. ‘You’ll see him first.’

‘Can we make ourselves a sandwich, then?’ David hovered on the doorstep, scowling under his mop of black hair.

‘No.You’ll spoil your appetites. Stick the kettle on and make your mother a cup of tea. And if you’re looking for something to do you can peel the spuds on the draining
board.’ She turned back to Rose, arching her brows. ‘Boys, who’d have ’em?’

Rose smiled. ‘Where’s Benny today?’

‘On a long haul. He left Thursday night with a lorry full of tyres to be delivered to Bristol. Then he had to load another lot and go up north.’

‘Does he sleep in his lorry?’

‘Yeah, he kips wherever he can, at the side of the road or in a lay-by. They ain’t choice jobs. A lot of lorry drivers avoid the heavy, backbreaking stuff as now there’s all
these mechanical lifters. But Benny always says as long as the goods aren’t nailed to the ground, he’ll lift ’em, whatever it takes.’

‘Can’t one of the boys help?’

Anita snorted. ‘They can hardly lift themselves out of bed in the mornings to eat their breakfast let alone lift a lorry-load of tyres.’

Rose admired Benny for the hard work he put in with his lorry. He worked from dawn till dusk, sometimes seven days a week, to justify a windfall his mother’s uncle had left him two years
ago. He’d taken a risk and bought a lorry determined to use his initiative to improve his family’s standard of living. Of paramount importance to the Mendozas was their overdue holiday.
They’d never had a proper holiday before, only stayed in Wales with relatives. Butlin’s Holiday Camp was their dream and Rose knew every penny was saved up for it. ‘You look a bit
peaky, girl.’ Anita frowned at Rose’s pale face.

Rose laughed softly. ‘I had a funny five minutes in Joan’s yesterday. I think it was listening to Cissy and Fanny in front of me.’

Anita nodded vigorously. ‘Anyone would feel lousy listening to them.’

Rose felt a little flush creep over her cheeks as she thought about what she might say next. ‘I took it out later on someone who was calling door to door,’ she said hesitantly
glancing sideways at her friend. ‘He said he’d just opened a shop up the Parade.’

‘What’s he selling?’

‘Televisions.’

‘
Televisions!
’ Anita’s face was incredulous.

‘Televisions and washing machines, that sort of thing. I gave him short shrift but then before I could close the door he was down on his knees polishing me step and telling me the hanky he
was using would come up good as new in one of his washing machines.’

Anita’s jaw fell. ‘You didn’t say you’d buy one?’

‘’Course not.’

‘They try anything to get you on hire purchase.’

Rose shrugged. ‘He didn’t mention that.’

‘I didn’t get a leaflet through my door.’

‘You were all out, I expect.’

Anita smirked. ‘You was watching then?’

‘Well, I did see him go over to Olga’s. But she didn’t answer.’

‘She’d probably have clocked him one if he mentioned a telly,’ Anita spluttered. ‘It’s a wonder you didn’t an’ all.’

‘I felt, well, a bit sorry for him,’ Rose replied cautiously, aware that her friend was studying her intently. ‘He fought in North Africa and the thought of opening a shop when
he came home was all that kept him going. I relented a little after he told me that.’

‘Like a lot of them poor buggers, just trying to make a living,’ Anita agreed, then quirked an eyebrow. ‘What’s he look like?’

Rose shrugged indifferently. ‘I don’t really remember.’

‘You’re blushing!’ Anita gasped. ‘I bet he chatted you up!’

Rose went scarlet and Anita threw back her head and laughed. ‘Well, good luck to you, girl. No harm in a bit of attention from the opposite sex.’

‘It wasn’t nothing, Neet. He was just a really nice bloke.’ Rose giggled. ‘And yes, to answer your question truthfully, he wasn’t a bad looker.’

Anita hooted. ‘Well next time he calls just make sure you send him round to me.’

‘Oh, he won’t be calling again, I’m sure,’ Rose said a little worriedly. ‘I don’t think Eddie would like that.’

‘Talking of lover boy, you’ve heard nothing from him, I suppose?’

‘No, nothing.’ Rose had forgotten her troubles for a little while then as she thought of Eddie in prison her heart sank again.

‘Well, I’m off to cook dinner for those lazy sods.’

‘Yeah, and I’d better finish the yard.’

A few minutes later, Rose had returned to her sweeping and was thinking about the laugh she’d had with her friend. Suddenly the girls came running from the house. ‘Can we sweep
too?’ they shrieked.

Rose handed them the broom. ‘Well now, what a good idea!’

For a while they had some fun in the evening sunshine chasing around with the broom and making a din. Rose tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation in her stomach that kept returning every now
and then and catching her short. She made a note to buy a bottle of Milk of Magnesia to stop the unsettled feeling, probably a result of all the upset.

That night as she lay in bed she thought of her visit to Eddie. She had been shocked at the cramped and dismal conditions of the prison. She wanted to put her arms around him, to hold the man
she loved and to hear him tell her everything would be all right. She snuggled down on her pillow and fell asleep wondering if Eddie was thinking of her. She had only flirted a little with Bobby
Morton, but even so, she felt a bit guilty!

Two days later, Rose turned on the wireless to hear that John Christie was standing trial at the Old Bailey. A moment later there was a bang at the front door and she went to
open it. Alan Mendoza was standing there.

‘Mum said to listen to the radio,’ he told her breathlessly. ‘It’s about that bloke who murdered all them women.’

‘Yes, I heard,’ Rose nodded. ‘Tell Mum I’ll be in soon.’

When she got back the announcer was ending with the news that John Christie was pleading insanity, a major development in his trial. A few minutes later Rose hurried round to the
Mendozas’.

‘What do you think of that?’ Anita shouted from the kitchen. ‘Poor bloody Eddie, in with a loony.’

Rose found Anita and her son bent over the radio, which was sitting on the plastic-covered kitchen table. Unlike Rose’s heavy old valve cabinet, Anita’s radio was a small brown
Bakelite model with a brass knob to tune the programmes. The kitchen was minus its usual fog since Anita’s resolution to stop smoking was still taking effect. The bad news for Benny was that
she had forbidden him to smoke in the house too.

Anita turned down the volume. ‘Blimey, they think he gassed his victims and stashed the bodies in cupboards and under floors, anywhere in fact, there was space.’

Rose shuddered. ‘How gruesome.’

‘Once he was a special copper too,’ Alan said straddling a chair and enjoying the macabre story. ‘Must have been right off his trolley even then.’

‘He knew what he was doing all right,’ Anita pronounced darkly. ‘He was clever enough to fool the police.’

‘What do you think, Auntie Rose?’

‘He still hasn’t been convicted,’ Rose answered thoughtfully, wondering if people had already judged Eddie as guilty. ‘And if he did perpetrate such terrible crimes he
can’t be sane, can he?’

‘So you don’t reckon he should be hanged?’ Alan asked aggressively.

‘I don’t think two wrongs make a right, Alan.’

Alan looked sceptical. ‘Not even when he’s murdered so many women!’

‘Here, you clown,’ his mother interrupted, wagging a finger in his face, ‘stop pestering the girl.’

‘I reckon he deserves all he gets,’ her son stated fiercely.

‘And I’m wondering why you’re at home skiving when you should be at school.’

‘You know why,’ her son retorted. ‘I’ve left.’

‘Not in my book, you haven’t,’ Anita rounded, pink spots appearing on her cheeks. ‘Not till you find yerself a job.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m looking, aren’t I?’

Anita lifted her hands in exasperation. ‘Then why ain’t you out there, elbowing the competition out the way?’

‘All right, Muvver. I’m going, I’m going.’ Alan stood up, his broad shoulders sagging as he pushed his big hands in his pockets. ‘What about bus fare?’

Anita’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘What about it?’

‘I’ll need some if I go up West.’

‘I go up every bloody day on me bike, don’t I? And I’m geriatric compared with you,’ his mother said scornfully as her son slouched out of the room. She turned to Rose
with a deep sigh. ‘Talk about spoon fed.’

‘He’s only young, Neet. Have you forgotten what it was like to be fifteen?’

‘You’re a soft touch you are,’ Anita murmured, nodding to the chair. ‘Sit down and take the weight off your feet.’

Rose did so, eager to discuss her new idea. ‘Coming up the market on Saturday? I’ve got something special in mind.’

Anita rolled her eyes. ‘What?’

‘I’m going to try to find this Syd.’

Anita looked startled. ‘The bloke who sold Eddie the telly?’

‘Eddie said he was wearing a hat and one of them long camel overcoats. He also had knuckle-duster rings and a big watch on his wrist. And there was the van of course. A Humber or a Morris,
dark in colour.’

Anita shrugged. ‘Well, who knows? We might be lucky.’

Rose nodded thoughtfully. At least she would feel she was doing something towards helping her husband.

On Thursday, after school, Rose was met by two long faces.

‘What’s wrong with you two?’ Had there been things said again? Rose wondered anxiously.

‘Dinner was disgusting.’ Donnie turned up her nose. ‘It was all sloppy.’

Rose was relieved the trouble wasn’t about Eddie. ‘Sloppy food won’t hurt for one day.’

Marlene dragged her heels. ‘I didn’t eat mine.’

‘Well, you should have. You know I don’t approve of waste, not when there are so many people in the world who are starving.’ Rose knew full well though, that any food set in
front of her daughter, even the worst of school dinners, would not be ignored.

‘I think they put glue in it,’ Donnie grinned mischievously at her mother. ‘To keep us quiet in lessons.’

Rose raised her eyebrows. ‘I bet you aren’t quiet, though.’

‘My mouth ain’t got any glue in,’ Marlene shouted and ran off. ‘I can talk as loud as I like.’

‘We don’t need any proof of that,’ Rose chuckled, knowing her daughter well.

‘Can we buy some sweets?’ Donnie asked as they drew close to home. ‘I’ve got two lemonade bottles and I’ll get thruppence back on each of them. Marlene and me can
share it between us.’

Rose nodded. ‘I don’t see why not.’ Then she realized what she’d said. The newsagent’s was next to Bobby Morton’s shop. Did she have the nerve to look in and
say hello?

For once it was a lovely summer’s evening and an eggshell sky stretched high above the island like a ceiling of soft blue silk. They collected the bottles from home and walked up to the
Parade which comprised a post office, grocer’s and newsagent’s. And now, Rose thought ruefully, an electrical shop.

The girls made a beeline for their sweets. In February, the government had ended sweet rationing and although sugar itself wasn’t to be de-rationed until September, the children now had
their choice of a wide variety of confectionery. For over twelve years favourites such as toffee apples, nougat, liquorice, boiled sweets and chocolates had been available only on coupons. But for
the last five months the newsagent at the Parade had extended his shelves of rare delights for his young patrons’ benefit.

Rose paused to look in the shop next door. The window was full of washing machines and vacuum cleaners. Outside had been given a coat of paint. It looked very bright and cheerful, just like
Bobby Morton himself. At that moment a van pulled up at the kerb beside her with a screech of brakes. She turned to see the driver clamber out, dragging with him two big bundles of newspaper tied
with string.

‘Guilty as hell,’ he called to Rose as he crossed the pavement in front of her.

‘Who is?’ Rose asked as she followed him in and he dropped his burden at the base of the counter.

‘Christie, of course,’ he replied, staring at her in surprise. ‘Never was any doubt though, was there?’

Rose glanced down at the headlines clearly visible under the criss-cross of thick, knotted twine
. Christie Guilty
. She swallowed. The case had been expected to last weeks, months even,
but was over in four days! Rose read on. The jury had shown no mercy and decided he was not mad at all, just evil. His sentence was death by hanging.

Rose forgot all about Bobby Morton. There was just one thing on her mind now. Would Eddie’s case come up sooner now that Christie’s was over?

The following day the name Christie was on everyone’s lips. Rose found it a depressing subject, but Anita said her boys and Benny had lapped up every detail.

‘The police think he done a lot of other women in,’ Anita was saying as they walked to market, the two girls running ahead as usual. ‘But he’s not owning up. He’s
too crafty for that.’

‘But how do you commit such terrible acts of violence if you aren’t insane?’ Rose asked, bewildered.

‘The same could be said of Hitler,’ Anita pointed out as they turned into Cox Street. ‘But he was as sane as you or I.’

‘So you think he should hang?’

‘’Course I do. Though no doubt he’ll appeal. He may even get away with it yet. There’s always a chance right up to the last minute, apparently.’

‘How do you know?’

Anita turned to stare at Rose. ‘Ain’t you been reading the papers, gel?’

Rose shook her head. ‘No. It’s too upsetting.’

‘Well, your Eddie will know all the goss, I’m sure.’

Rose hoped he didn’t. All she wanted to do when she next saw him was to tell him how much she loved and missed him. And try to find a way out of their problems. She felt sickened by what
was printed in the papers.