East End Jubilee (36 page)

‘Only temporarily.’ Rose kept her hand on the open door. Unfortunately Em had heard her come in and hurry up the stairs to retrieve the pearls from Eddie’s rolled-up socks in
the bottom drawer. She was hoping to take the necklace and do the deed without Em’s knowledge. ‘When I’m working again I’ll get them back.’

‘But Mum would be horrified!’ Em protested in an angry tone that Rose hadn’t heard her use before. Em avoided confrontation like the plague but now she was furious, all pink in
the face and losing control.

Rose frowned at her sister. ‘Do you really think so? I believe Mum would have given the clothes off her back to a beggar if the need arose.’

‘These are her pearls we’re talking about.’ Em’s soft features suddenly looked hard. Her hazel eyes narrowed. ‘I’m getting fed up with Olga this and Olga
that. We can hardly make ends meet as it is. Yet you’re risking Mum’s pearl necklace to throw away on a stranger. Even if Olga is on your conscience, she certainly isn’t on mine.
We’ve got mouths to feed and bodies to clothe. We only just had enough for the rent last week. In fact, as you well know, if it hadn’t been for Joan slipping me that bacon and eggs
cheap we’d have been on bread and water this weekend.’

Rose was aware this was true. In fact, Olga’s demise couldn’t have come at a worse time. Last night in bed, Rose had tossed and turned, questioning her motives for what she was
doing, in Em’s words, on a stranger’s behalf. She also felt a hypocrite. There was never any love lost between Olga and herself and everyone knew it. She wondered why she hadn’t
agreed to Dr Cox assuming responsibility for the whole matter as he had offered to do. It would save everyone a lot of time and trouble, not to mention expense. But she hadn’t been able to
stomach the thought of a life going up anonymously in a puff of crematorium smoke. Fate had dogged Olga’s footsteps whilst on this earth. Surely in death, she was owed some
acknowledgement?

‘I know,’ Rose agreed patiently. ‘But I’ll be bringing in a wage when I’m back at work. Things will be easier all round.’

‘That’s all very well,’ her sister complained, ‘but you don’t even know if you’ll get a job.’

‘Gwen House has offered me my old one back.’

‘You never said.’

‘I was going to. I’ve just been busy.’

‘Yes, and we all know why.’

Rose tried not to take offence. ‘I know Olga is a thorn in most people’s sides. And most of those I called on this morning told me they have better things to do with their
hard-earned cash.’

‘Exactly. To most of Ruby Street she was just a stranger – a foreigner! If anything, she should be taken back to where she came from.’

Rose had never heard her sister talk so unkindly. ‘Em, she had nowhere to return to.’

‘So we’re supposed to foot the bill? I couldn’t even provide my own husband with a proper funeral because no one wanted to know at St John’s. All those pious, devout
Christians, all happy to preach love and understanding from the pulpit but then when it came to Arthur, you’d have thought he was a leper!’

Rose understood now. ‘This is why you’re upset, because of Arthur.’

Em stared at her. She was shaking and twitching so much that Rose thought she was about to cry. But instead she turned and ran up the stairs. A few seconds later a loud bang shook the house. The
bedroom door rattled on its hinges. Rose listened to the muffled weeping coming from above.

A few minutes later she went upstairs. ‘Em?’ she called outside the bedroom door.

Slowly it opened. Her sister fell into her arms. ‘Oh, Rosy, I’m sorry.’

‘There’s nothing to be sorry about.’

‘What made me say such awful things?’

‘You’ve bottled up your feelings, that’s why.’

Em sniffed noisily on her shoulder. ‘I didn’t know I had.’

‘Come downstairs. I’ll make some tea.’

Em pushed her gently away. ‘Rosy, you’re right. Mum would have done the same as you. She’d have looked after anyone who needed a helping hand – in life or in death. Go
and do what you have to.’

‘Are you sure?’

Em nodded, rubbing her puffy cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘Yes, go on.’

‘I’m sorry about Arthur not having a proper funeral.’

To Rose’s surprise, her sister smiled. ‘He’s still up at Eastbourne Crem in an urn. I suppose one day I might forgive him and buy a rose tree and scatter him under it.’
Her mouth twitched. ‘Or I might go down the pier and chuck him off the end.’

‘But Arthur was frightened of water,’ Rose pointed out.

Em nodded, a twinkle in her eye. ‘He couldn’t swim a stroke. Serve him right, won’t it?’

Solly Rosenberg had just endured an hour of his wife’s company and he was exhausted. Even the tax man didn’t worry him like his wife did. At least his accountant
was dealing with the problems of his business, whilst there was no one, other than himself, to calm Alma’s highly strung nature. Their only daughter, Ruth, was staying with her
husband’s parents in the States and would not be back until after the summer. If his appeal was successful he would be out of this place very soon. Solly had high hopes of coming out of his
present difficulties without a scratch. He was worth more to the tax man in employment than he was sewing mail bags.

Solly wasn’t quite certain how he’d come to marry Alma thirty-two years ago, although, if he was honest, he suspected his motives had been swayed by Alma’s sizeable dowry. If
it hadn’t been for his wife’s parents, who had sadly departed this mortal coil, Solly thought as he raised his small, dark eyes honouringly to the sky as he strolled around the large
playing field belonging to Hewis prison, then his life would have been far, far different. Less rich in material goods and vastly less worthy in character. Solly had always viewed his wife as an
investment, just as he had his stock market shares. His chain of retail outlets, inexpensive clothing for both sexes, was nowhere near as lucrative as his stocks portfolio. But Alma couldn’t
sample, stroke or wear his portfolio. So he maintained his business at modest profits, content to allow Alma the pleasure of her frequent tours, inspecting the shops with an eagle eye.

Today Alma had been wearing a creation of black and white that dazzled Solly throughout the visit, as the stripes wove over her generous bosom and undulating girth in a kaleidoscope action that
caused him to feel slightly nauseous.

So very different from the quiet grace of the young woman who had sat at the next table to them. Now, as Solly recalled the heart-stopping brown eyes that had smiled occasionally at him from a
truly exquisite face, he had realized he’d spent most of his time trying to overhear their conversation as Alma prattled on about the Knightsbridge shop and her intention to introduce to it a
larger size of women’s fashion wear.

Solly groaned softly. Larger women had dominated his life. His mother, his grandmother, his mother-in-law and now his wife. There was nothing wrong with large women, in fact he enjoyed them
tremendously. And Alma was a sensual woman who had contributed not a little panache to his enjoyment of sex. But he was a small man in stature and his appetite had always got him into trouble.

‘Give you a pound for each one,’ said the voice beside him and Solly jumped guiltily.

‘Oh, now that is a generous offer, my friend! I’ll keep you to it.’ Solly smiled, twisting his lips dramatically under his huge nose. It was a little affectation he’d
learned in order to draw the onlooker’s eye from the monopolizing feature above.

‘Well, owing to lack of funds, it’ll have to be a fag,’ Eddie shrugged good naturedly. ‘Here you are.’

‘No, my boy!’ Solly refused the roll-up. ‘I’ll tell you for free. I was thinking of your wife as it happens.’

Eddie gave a hoot. ‘Well, I’ll take that as a compliment from you, Solly.’

‘You make a handsome couple.’

Eddie looked at him pensively. ‘She’s a cracker, my Rose. And too good for me by far.’

Solly studied his young companion’s preoccupied face. On this beautiful early May evening, just as the scarlet sun was crawling down the dimpled sky, the world seemed a perfect place. But
Solly was aware that his cell mate was unusually troubled and he wondered why.

‘I’ve let her down,’ Eddie continued as Solly discreetly kept silent. ‘I wish with all me heart I’d never laid a quid on that bloody dog at White City after Toots
was born. I mean, any sensible punter would have taken the money and run.’

‘There is no such thing as a sensible punter,’ Solly answered as they began their second lap of the big green field where a few inmates were strolling casually, enjoying the peaceful
summer evening. Solly still couldn’t believe that an innocent looking fence such as the one that encircled the exercise area was enough deterrent to keep in the prisoners. But then again, the
inmates of Hewis had more to lose than gain by attempting escape. Remand prisoners and those with shorter sentences like Eddie kept their heads down and did their time. It was not an unpleasant
place if you could stomach the terrible food and the boredom and the disembodied sensation you were half in one world and half in another.

‘I’ve told you I was a floater,’ Eddie added as he stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘But what I haven’t mentioned is that I owe a few quid to a pretty
unpleasant character. He’s been round to put the frighteners on Rose.’

‘A few quid?’ Solly’s old heart squeezed sympathetically. ‘How much precisely, my boy?’

An unpleasant few seconds passed before the reply. ‘Six hundred and fifty smackeroonies plus interest.’

Solly tried not to let his astonishment show. His young friend seemed quite unlike the type to be so reckless. ‘How did this happen?’

Eddie gave a hard laugh. ‘Gawd knows, Solly. I kept thinking me luck would change but I just kept borrowing more to pay off one bookie and then the next. Then, just before the Coronation,
I put ten quid on an accumulator. No one was more surprised than me when it came up. So I stuffed a monkey in me safe to pay back the debt and blew the one hundred and fifty on Star of the East, a
surefire bet that turned round and ran the other way in the three-thirty, Newmarket.’

‘Eddie, this is bad news, this obsession of yours.’

‘Yeah, me and the rest of the universe. You ain’t telling me you’ve never lost a quid on a pretty little filly, Solly!’

‘Strangely enough, not the four-legged variety, my friend.’ Solly stopped, a little out of puff from all the fresh air and exercise. ‘But at least you had your five hundred to
settle the debt?’

‘I had it and lost it.’

‘No!’

‘Not in the way you think. I stashed it under the floorboards, see. And when I got nicked I thought to meself, well I won’t clear the slate but Rose and the kids won’t want for
nothing while I’m away.’ Eddie’s voice shook slightly. ‘I couldn’t have been more wrong. The buggers broke in and took the lot. And now they’re turning up and
watching the house. If they touch a hair of her head—’

‘Calm yourself,’ Solly whispered, stretching out to lay a plump hand on his friend’s arm.

Eddie swallowed heavily. ‘Yeah, but it don’t end there. Rose got the hump one day and went a bit crackers.’

‘Crackers?’ Solly shook his head. ‘How is this?’

‘She walloped their motor with a broom and made such a song and dance half the street came out to see what was happening. What scares me is, they won’t leave it at that. And there
ain’t a bloody thing I can do about it,’ he ended bitterly.

‘Who is this man who gives you such aggravation?’ Solly asked curiously.

‘A bloke by the name of Norman Payne and a right pain in the backside he is too.’

For a moment the older man frowned, passing his hand over his bald patch and down the back of his short, thick neck. ‘Your Rose has spirit, my boy.’

Solly watched Eddie’s face tighten. His face had turned a dull grey as if all the life was draining out of it. ‘Yeah, she has an’ all. Do you know what else she did? On Easter
Sunday, Olga Parker died. That’s the woman whose husband I flogged the bent telly to, remember?’

Solly racked his brains hard, having forgotten what Eddie had told him regarding the events that had led up to his arrest. Solly had more important things to consider at the time, like how to
explain to Alma that he was considering a little tidy up of the shops when he was released. The cash, bolstered by the stocks and drip fed by an off-shore account into the business books, was
becoming more and more difficult to camouflage. Alma was entitled to her whim, of course, but not at the price of his freedom.

‘Yes,’ Solly nodded hesitantly. There were so many complications that comprised this young man’s life, although most certainly he recognized the notorious name his young friend
had almost choked on a minute or two ago. Norman Payne was a ruthless predator who swallowed his victims whole.

‘It turns out Olga was German, not Polish. Her family were wiped out during the war by the Nazis. Olga only just managed to escape herself. But then she goes and tops herself and
there’s no one to give her a send-off as she’s been dumped by the moron she lived with. So my Rose decides to have a whip round but ain’t got enough to do the business, so she
hocks her mother’s pearls—’

‘Your wife borrowed money on her jewels?’ Solly interrupted, trying to absorb this wealth of unexpected detail.

‘Yeah, but the necklace ain’t anything special, just sentimental value, like.’

Solly was even more confused now. ‘But why would she do this for a woman she hardly knew?’

Eddie threw back his head and sighed. ‘You don’t know my Rose,’ he said with a faraway look in his eye. ‘Y’see, Rose felt really bad about the telly. And so did I
of course. And it was because of the telly that Olga got found out, if you see what I mean?’

Solly wasn’t sure he did, but nodded all the same.

‘Anyway, as I was saying,’ Eddie continued briskly, ‘Rose gets Olga buried in the end, up Golders Green too, with her feet pointing towards the Promised Land as a mark of
respect for her being Jewish an’ all.’

Solly stared incredulously at his friend. ‘Your wife is a remarkable woman, my friend. What did you say was this other lady’s name?’