East End Jubilee (27 page)

Anita went slowly down the stairs. The light was on in the kitchen and the fire was alight in the front room flickering shadows across the bottom of the stairs. The November evening had darkened
swiftly but the house felt warm and inviting.

A figure stepped towards her and Anita gave a startled cry. ‘Benny! You scared the life out of me!’ She stopped abruptly on the bottom step. Her husband’s face was grey and
lined despite his youthfully olive skin. He’d worn a dark suit especially for court this morning and when he’d left, it seemed to fit him perfectly. He was stocky and muscular and
finding a second-hand navy blue suit at the market had been one of Anita’s most satisfying buys. The trousers had needed an inch off the bottoms but Rose had managed the alteration for her.
She’d also let down the sleeves to encompass Benny’s unusually thick arms. Being one size larger than Benny’s normal size, the jacket had easily accommodated his broad shoulders.
But now he seemed to have shrunk inside the cloth. He’d pulled out the knot of his tie and undone the button of his white shirt. Anita felt a frisson of attraction flow through her and then,
unexpectedly, a great tenderness.

‘Come and sit down,’ she said and he followed her into the front room. He took his usual armchair by the fire and she one of the dining chairs. Anita was shocked as she met his eyes.
She knew straight away what was wrong. He had been weeping.

‘I’ll make a cuppa,’ she blurted, confused by her discovery. She had never seen Benny weep, once perhaps when Alan was born, but those were tears of sheer joy. Anita knew that
Benny’s emotions were kept tightly under lock and key. He would die rather than expose his true feelings of sensitivity, yet it was clear in his face that something had touched him to the
core.

Benny shook his head and lifted a hand to stop her from leaving. ‘No, don’t go,’ he muttered as his eyes moistened and he continued to shake his head. ‘It’s all
over,’ he whispered hoarsely, ‘poor bastard.’ He shivered physically. ‘Neet, I never want to go through anything like that again. I’d rather die before I saw David or
Alan come up before a beak.’

‘Struth, Benny,’ Anita breathed anxiously, ‘what are you talking about? Our boys ain’t criminals.’

‘Nor is Eddie but that didn’t make no difference today. It don’t make sense, it really don’t. Eddie’s a family man, innocent of any of those charges and yet . .
.’ His voice was shaking and Anita swallowed.

‘Benny, tell me what happened?’

He sank back against the cushion and exhaled. ‘Eddie went down, gel.’

Anita closed her eyes. The news was not unexpected to her. No matter how much they had all hoped otherwise, she’d secretly feared the worst. ‘How long for?’

‘Two years.’

Anita stared at the top of her husband’s head as it sank to his chest. She had never expected Benny to lose the raven black, wiry hair that clung to his skull with such determination. But
she could see clearly now the faint pink outline of his scalp that a few years ago had been masked to the eye by thick, tight curls. Her heart gave another treacherous lurch as slowly she allowed
Benny’s words to sink in. ‘Poor bloody Rose,’ she whispered brokenly.

Benny looked up, taking a huge breath that startled his wife. ‘It ain’t as bad as it seems, you know.’

Anita snorted, fighting back the tears. ‘You could have fooled me.’

‘They couldn’t prove the warehouse job but they found him guilty on handling the stolen telly and obstructing the coppers. The assault charge was thrown out and the old beak gave him
two years to run concurrently, not consecutively, thank Gawd.’

‘You mean he might have had to do four?’ Anita gulped.

‘Yeah, it could have gone that way.’ Benny gave a twisted smile. ‘They couldn’t pin the warehouse on him and that’s a lot to be grateful for. And the jury
must’ve listened to what he said about the police doing him over because they went for the obstruction instead.’

Anita shook her head sorrowfully. ‘But he shouldn’t be doing time at all.’

‘I know that, gel. He’s as clean as you or me.’

‘Eddie’s a good bloke,’ Anita agreed heatedly, ‘but I wish he was a bit more savvy. If you ask me, he’s easily led up the path.’

‘Yeah. But his intentions are good.’

Anita raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, but ain’t the road to hell paved with ’em?’

Benny looked at her with his sad eyes. His big, swarthy face was regaining a little of its natural colour. ‘Neet, I’d rather walk down a road with Eddie than I would share a cloud
with the Angel Gabriel. Eddie’s me mate and when I saw him take that little lot on the jaw today, me heart nearly broke. And that’s not an admission I’d make to anyone but you.
It’s so bloody unfair when there’s devious buggers about that would steal from their own mothers if they had the chance. No, Eddie ain’t no villain. And he may be easily led, but
he’s got a heart of gold and I love him for it.’

At her husband’s words Anita was powerless to stop the tears from falling from her eyes and they slipped down her cheeks, resisting her efforts to sweep them away.

Benny rose and came towards her, lifting her gently and folding her into his arms. ‘We gotta be strong for Rose, love,’ he whispered against her forehead. ‘Her and the kids
will need all the help we can give.’

‘I know, poor cow.’

‘First off, we’ll slip Em a few quid from the holiday fund.’

Anita looked up in surprise. ‘You’d really give up our Butlin’s money?’

Benny nodded slowly. ‘’Course I would. We had one blooming good holiday with the kids and we couldn’t top that, could we?’

‘Oh, Benny, you’re a good man.’

He grinned, shrugging off the rare compliment. ‘Don’t you believe it. I got ulterior motives. I was trying to think of a way to get out of all that old time dancing stuff you kept
dragging me into.’

Despite her husband’s attempts to make light of his generosity, Anita felt humbled; Benny was indeed a good man but he never failed to surprise her. After eighteen years of marriage she
thanked God for the precious qualities that were stored like gold nuggets in the deep layers of his soul.

He tilted her chin with his rough fingers and she leaned into him, her rock. ‘I love you, Mrs M,’ he murmured and kissed her, rubbing her wet cheeks with the coarse pads of his
thumbs.

‘And I love you, Benny Mendoza,’ she sighed. ‘But don’t tell anyone, will you?’

They kissed again, a little longer this time, then hand in hand they went next door to see Rose.

The baby’s bonnet was almost complete; all she had left to do was stitch the ribbon to the sides and add a tiny silk bow to the top. The matching bootees and mittens,
both knitted in a shade of blackbird’s egg blue, lay on the dressing table along with the lemon matinee coat Anita had brought in and the soft white shawl embroidered with cross stitch that
Em had made.

Rose let the bonnet slip from her hands on to the eiderdown as the baby moved, his elbow, foot or knee gently jerking under her stretched skin. Her fingers lay lightly on her nightdress and she
held her breath at the joy of his presence within her. He was so active, more so even than Marlene, who had provoked backache and indigestion throughout the whole of the pregnancy. But this little
body gave her only pleasure and for his sake, Rose intended to be brave.

Two years. Twenty-four months, of which Eddie had already served six. Just one year to endure, really. The following year, 1955, would be easier. Benny had said there would be time off for good
behaviour. Rose felt herself go hot, then cold. She had prepared herself for today, accepting that only a fool would have dared to hope for a verdict of Not Guilty to all the charges.

Rose lifted the little bonnet with shaky fingers. If she had some blue ribbon left she could have finished it tonight. Beside the bed was a small wooden table and on it lay her knitting and
sewing bag. This would be her lifeline until February. She would knit and sew every day, using all the skeins of silk and unpicked balls of wool that she had been given to prepare for the
baby’s birth. She would not think of what had happened today, but look forward to next year, to the blessing of her son.

Rose sat dry-eyed, refusing to allow outside events into the sacred world of her unborn son. She didn’t care if she had to lie to herself for the next two-and-a-half months; her priorities
were clear. She would tell Matthew everything there was to know about Eddie, about their lives, their history, their beginnings and their island community. She would leave nothing unsaid in the
small hours when she was restless and yearning to be free from the bed and on her feet again. She would put every minute to good use, educating her child, telling him how much he was loved and how
dearly he had been wanted.

Rose felt the kick again and smiled. ‘Matthew,’ she whispered and lifted herself slightly against the pillows. ‘Matthew Weaver, how does that sound?’

Another little kick and Rose nodded as though she could hear the baby’s reply. She talked softly, her hands clasped across her belly tracing the movements. She told him all that Benny had
said about Stanley Matthews being the best footballer in the world, about the backyard and the street they lived in, the school he would go to and the wide and wonderful river that flowed through
the city.

She was just beginning to tell him about the tall ships that had ploughed so gracefully through its waters for centuries before the Coronation of the Queen of England, when she heard a movement
outside the door.

‘Donnie? Is that you?’ Rose asked softly.

‘No, it’s me.’ Em appeared, the collar of her thick, grey, woolly dressing gown up to her ears where curlers dangled neatly from her head. ‘I thought I heard
voices.’

Rose blushed. ‘I was just talking to the baby.’

Em closed the door and tiptoed in. ‘Are you all right?’

‘’Course I am.’

Her sister stood shivering and frowning. ‘Are you sure? After what happened today—’

‘Em, it’s not the end of the world, is it?’

For a moment a pair of hazel brown eyes looked startled. ‘I don’t understand. We thought you’d be—’

‘Well, I’m not,’ Rose cut in before her sister could make a song and dance about Eddie’s two-year sentence. ‘I’m going to get through this, Em, for the
baby’s sake. And for the girls, of course. Eddie will want to return to a family, not a house full of shivering wrecks.’ Rose threw back the eiderdown. ‘Come and sit in with me. I
know it’s late, but you’ll freeze out there.’

Em didn’t need telling twice and slipped under the warm sheet, snuggling against Rose as she had done before Rose was confined to bed. ‘I hope you aren’t in delayed
shock,’ she said cautiously, pulling the eiderdown across her chest. ‘It happened to me after I found out about Arthur. I couldn’t stop shaking for a week.’

Rose slid her warm hand through the crook of her sister’s arm. ‘You poor old thing. And you had no one to share your problems with. Why didn’t you write to me and
explain?’

Em gave a shuddery sigh. ‘How could I put what Arthur had done in a letter? It was hard enough to believe meself.’

‘I wish I could have helped. I should have been there for you.’

‘That’s daft, Rosy,’ Em said with feeling. ‘Me and Will would be on the streets if it wasn’t for you.’

‘No you wouldn’t. I told you, this is your home and always will be.’

‘It’s just till I get on me feet that’s all.’

‘Anyway, Eddie said he was pleased you’re here,’ Rose replied as she recalled the second prison visit she had made in August after writing to tell Eddie she was pregnant. She
had received a visiting order soon afterwards and Benny had driven her to Brixton. It had been a visit of mixed emotions as Eddie digested all that Dr Cox had said. He’d been convinced his
appeal to be bailed would be granted. Rose had been on the point of explaining about the money, but decided at the last minute not to. She didn’t want to spoil their short time together. And
if push came to shove, she would pawn the pearl necklace and every last stick of furniture in the house. But Eddie’s appeal had been turned down. He’d written to say that he
didn’t want her to travel all the way to the prison again in her condition, even though Benny had offered to drive her.

Part of her was relieved at his decision. She recalled the pregnant mothers with their tense, unhappy faces and huge bulges lining up in the prison courtyard. But not seeing his dear face had
saddened her deeply. She ached just to be close to him once more.

‘He still doesn’t know about the money, does he?’ Em’s quiet voice broke into her thoughts and Rose shook her head.

‘No. I shan’t see him until after the baby is born either.’

Em gave a deep sigh and they both stared out of the window, the bottom half draped with a frilly net. Rose could no longer see the full moon, a cheesy whole that earlier in the evening had
hidden behind the big, racing clouds. The mists had evaporated since Benny and Anita had left and sleep was impossible at midnight, even though she had the whole of the double bed to herself. Em
was sleeping on the couch downstairs in the front room and Will had returned to the girls’ room after decamping twice.

‘Are you sleeping all right?’ Rose was concerned that Em’s nightmares were continuing.

‘Fine, thanks. I made those tatty old curtains stored at the back of the girls’ wardrobe into a proper cover. You said you were only keeping them for rags, so I stitched them tightly
around the arms and sides so that the holes in the seat are well and truly padded.’

Rose wondered if her sister had deliberately misunderstood her question but Em seemed happy enough to be sleeping downstairs so she smiled and said quietly, ‘You’re so talented with
your fingers, Em, Mum would be proud of you.’

Surprisingly, Em giggled. ‘I wonder if she’s watching now and telling us it’s time to put out the light? You know, like when we were kids and got in the same bed to keep warm.
Your feet was always like toast, mine like ice. You always let me warm me toes on you.’

‘Happy days,’ Rose agreed wistfully. ‘Now Donnie and Marle and Will are sleeping in our room and you and me are in Mum and Dad’s. We’ve not gone far, have
we?’