Nobody’s Girl (9 page)

When art classes started in September, Pearl and Derek settled into a routine. She went for lessons one night a week, and Derek went to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On the other evenings, she visited his house, sharing the family meal, growing closer to Connie and feeling part of the family. For Pearl, it was wonderful, Connie becoming like the mother she’d never had.

Pearl stood at her easel on Thursday evening, critically gazing at her effort before mixing more watercolours. Like Miss Rosen, this teacher was pleased with her work, and one day Pearl hoped to progress to oils. She had done a wash for the sky, satisfied with the stormy effect, and now raising her brush she attempted a tree. As this was an autumnal scene, in her mind’s eye she imagined a high wind blowing, so she bent the tree, making it skeletal with few leaves clinging to the branches. As she stepped back a pace, the woman at the next easel spoke.

‘I wish I could get the hang of doing that. Mine never seems to turn out right.’

Pearl wandered across, seeing that the woman had fashioned her tree with a huge trunk and a mushroom of bright green growth sprouting from the top. All right, it wasn’t very good, but what did it matter? She had seen that the elderly lady loved the classes.

‘It looks nice,’ Pearl smiled.

‘Leave it out, love, it’s rubbish.’

The teacher came to their side, her head cocked as she surveyed the old lady’s attempt. ‘Not bad, Mrs Fox, and you’re coming along nicely.’

‘Do you think so? Well, thanks very much, but I wish I could paint like this young lady.’

‘Keep up the good work and you will.’

She then wandered on to the next easel, the old lady winking at Pearl. ‘Yeah, and pigs might fly too.’

Pearl grinned as she went back to her own work. She loved the mixed ability classes, finding everyone so friendly. Picking up her paintbrush again, she buried herself in the countryside scene.

The time flew past and to Pearl her painting wasn’t quite finished. She was still daubing, still endeavouring to get it just right when the teacher came to her side.

‘Well done, my dear,’ the woman said softly, ‘but know when to stop. You’ll spoil the effect if you overwork it, and anyway, it’s time to go home.’

‘Is it?’ Pearl said, becoming aware of the noise in the room as people prepared to leave. She hurriedly packed up too, and as she left the class, there was a smile on her face. She was following her dream at last, a dream that one day her painting would be good enough to exhibit.

Pearl stepped outside to find Derek waiting for her. ‘Watcha, love,’ he said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek before taking her things to carry. ‘I finished early at the gym so thought I’d come to walk you home.’

She clutched Derek’s arm as they walked along, pleased to see him, and glad that she had learned to relax when held in his arms. She still didn’t enjoy his kisses, finding it hard to respond, and so far, fearing being alone with him, she hadn’t invited him up to her room.

There was only one person who marred her contentment, and that was Kevin Dolby. For some reason he had taken to chatting to her, often asking her how things were going with Derek, but she couldn’t understand why. He’d teased her once, asking if she wanted to be his girl, but she knew he was just making fun of her. He was so good-looking and there was no way he’d be interested in her, but still her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies every time she saw him. Oh, she didn’t want to think about Kevin; it only made her unsettled.

‘How did your class go?’ Derek asked.

‘It was fine, and I’m learning so much.’

They continued to chat, Pearl enthusing about her art teacher, and when they arrived at Battersea High Street, Pearl unlocked her street door. She took her things from Derek, smiling up at him. ‘Thanks for walking me home, but there’s really no need.’

‘I don’t mind,’ he said, eyes soft as he leaned down to kiss her, lips soft and moist as they settled on hers. ‘’Night, Pearl. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yes.’ Night, Derek.’ Pearl said, relieved that he didn’t expect more.

She watched him walk away, his arm lifting in a small wave, before she went inside and climbed the stairs to her bedsit. The house was quiet as Pearl flopped onto the side of the bed, eyes looking up to the ceiling. Mr Bardington had stopped his pacing and she rarely saw the man. In fact, he had become so quiet that she often forgot he was in the building. Like her, he was an outsider. Still, now that she was courting Derek, the locals were coming round and warming to her.

Pearl kicked off her shoes and went to make herself a drink, but soon after drinking it, she heard noises from the street, people shouting. Puzzled, she went over to the window to see a crowd of about twenty people. In the dim light from a street-lamp she spotted Derek amongst them and threw up the window.

‘Derek. What’s going on?’

He looked up. ‘Come down, Pearl.’

She threw on her shoes and dashed downstairs, Derek coming straight to her side. ‘I was on my way home when I met up with this lot. Eric’s missing. Have you seen him?’

‘No. Oh, Derek, it’s after ten o’clock. Where can he be?’

‘I dunno. He didn’t come home from school and, as you can see, a lot of people have rallied round to search for him. They’ve looked everywhere but are running out of options.’

‘Have they tried Battersea Park?’

‘I dunno, but we couldn’t cover an area of that size. What makes you think he’d go there?’

‘There’s a lot to attract kids, but it was just a suggestion. Anyway, if the police have been told, they’ll probably cover it.’

‘Yeah, they’ve been told, but not until after eight o’clock. Frank was hoping he’d turn up before then.’

Pearl saw Frank Hanwell, his face drawn with worry. ‘Eric! Eric!’ he shouted, his eyes frantically searching the dim High Street. ‘Where are you, you little bugger?’

‘Frank looks awful. Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘You can join us on the search. Apparently he’s not at any of his friends’ houses, and to be honest, I don’t know where we’re trying next.’

Pearl walked with Derek to Frank’s side, the man’s eyes wild as he looked at them. ‘I can’t understand it, Derek. He’s never done this before.’

‘Don’t worry, Frank. The police are sure to find him, even if we don’t. Pearl has suggested Battersea Park and she could be right.’

‘Eric wouldn’t go to the park on his own. Lucy would kill him and he knows that.’

‘He’s just a kid. Think about what you got up to as a nipper.’

Frank’s shoulders slumped. ‘All right, we’ll try there.’

It was after one in the morning before they gave up, footsore and weary as they trudged home.

Derek once again walked Pearl to her door, and after giving her a swift hug he said, ‘Try to get some sleep, love. The police are still looking, and maybe there’ll be good news in the morning.’

Pearl was so tired that she could barely respond. ‘Oh, I hope so, Derek.’

They said good night, Pearl almost staggering up to her room, but despite her exhaustion it was some time before she was able to sleep. The police would find Eric – they just had to. Behind closed eyes, tears gathered as she pictured the boy’s beautiful face.

Nearly a week passed and there was still no sign of Eric. Frank’s stall stood empty, the man incapable of running it and, trying to rally round as much as possible, the other costermongers set it up for him, working it between them to make sure the man had an income.

Frank’s wife, Lucy, hadn’t been seen, and rumour had it that she was in a terrible state. Eric was their only child, the love of their lives, and amongst the gossip in the café there was a lot of sympathy for the couple.

Gertie was also badly affected. She lived next door to the Hanwells and knew them well. Though she still washed the dishes, her tears were often seen dripping into the washing-up water, her bright smile gone.

When Pearl finished work on Wednesday she stopped off at Derek’s stall. ‘There’s still no news,’ she said sadly.

‘I know, love, and I feel so helpless. It’s been six days since Eric went missing and police seem to have exhausted all their enquiries. Now everyone’s back is up about the way they’re treating the Hanwells.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They keep questioning them, and have talked to the neighbours. They’ve asked what sort of parents they are, if there were any signs of mistreatment, and have spoken to the teachers at Eric’s school. Pearl, surely they don’t think that Frank and Lucy had anything to do with his disappearance?’

Pearl placed her hand on his arm. ‘I’ve only lived around here a short time, but I’ve seen Frank with Eric and it’s obvious how much he loves his son.’

‘Yeah, and as far as I’m concerned the police are barking up the wrong tree.’

‘Oh, Derek, where can Eric be?’

‘I dunno, love, but I hope to God some nonce ain’t got hold of him.’

‘A nonce. I don’t understand.’

‘Christ, I keep forgetting what an innocent you are. It’s another word for a paedophile.’

Pearl shook her head. ‘I still don’t understand.’

‘They’re sick bastards who like sex with children.’

‘No!’ she cried, but then something she remembered from the orphanage fell into place. When she’d been about ten, a girl of the same age had been fostered out, but after only a month she came back, a sad, pale shadow of the pretty girl who had left. She hardly spoke and lay curled on her bed for hours, but whispers went around the dormitory. The older girls said she’d been interfered with by the foster parent, a man who liked children. Pearl hadn’t understood, but now it all made sense. ‘Oh, Derek, that’s terrible.’

‘Look, don’t get upset. I’m probably wrong.’

‘Oh, I hope so.’

A customer came to the stall, and with a small, sad smile, Derek said to Pearl, ‘I’ll see you later, love.’

Pearl walked away with a sick feeling in her stomach. With her head down she didn’t see Kevin until she walked into him. ‘Oh, sorry,’ she blurted.

His hands gripped her arms. ‘What do you expect when you walk around looking at the pavement?’

‘Yes, sorry, I’m afraid I was thinking about Eric Hanwell.’

‘Everyone is talking about his disappearance. I wonder what happened to the poor little tyke.’

‘I don’t know. I just wish the police would find him.’

‘Yeah, but he’ll probably turn up dead.’

The colour drained from Pearl’s face. ‘Oh, don’t say that!’

‘Look, he ain’t the sort of kid that would run away, so what other option is there?’

‘Derek said that a nonce might have got hold of him.’

‘If that’s the case, the poor little sod would be better off dead.’

Pearl found herself gawking at Kevin, and then with a small sob she ran to her bedsit. Eric was such a beautiful boy with the face of an angel. Surely nobody would harm him?

As Pearl got ready to go round to Derek’s that evening, she suddenly paused as a noise came from upstairs. Unused to hearing anything these days from Mr Bardington, her ears pricked. What was that faint sound she had heard? Was it a cry? Was the man ill?

She stood absolutely still, but there were no further sounds and, relaxing again, she continued to dress. It seemed strange to see so little of someone who lived on the same premises – in fact she saw more of his mail. Pearl never received any letters, but there were often large brown envelopes delivered for Mr Bardington. If Pearl saw them she would pick them up and place them on the bottom stair, and they always disappeared. If it wasn’t for that she wouldn’t know the man lived there.

Ready now, she picked up her handbag and was soon on her way to Derek’s. She had become very fond of Connie’s cooking, and with the extra meals she was having Pearl was putting on weight. Her few outfits were getting tight, but thankfully Mo had told her about a shop that sold second-hand clothes. Paint, brushes and paper were always top of Pearl’s wish list, but realising there was no choice but to buy new clothes, she decided to take a look at the shop the next day.

The evening soon passed, and after a huge dinner of steak-and-kidney pudding, they sat playing cards.

Derek suddenly smiled across at Connie. ‘I’ve got a nice surprise for you.’

‘Have you now. And what’s that?’

‘I’m going to buy a television.’

‘And where is the money coming from?’

‘Don’t worry, Gran, it ain’t new, but it’s in good working order.’

‘A television. My, ain’t we coming up in the world, Pearl?’

‘We certainly are,’ Pearl agreed, loving being included as part of the family.

‘That’ll be one in the eye for her next door. She’s always bragging about her television. If I hear one more word about some geezer called Dixon of Dock Green, I think I’ll go mad.’

‘Who’s he?’ Derek asked.

‘Oh, it’s some sort of programme about a copper. Someone called Jack Warner plays him, and her next door is mad about it.’

‘Well, Gran, now you’ll be able to watch it too.’

‘Yeah, I will, won’t I?’ she said, smiling widely.

‘I’d best be off,’ Pearl said as the game of rummy came to an end, Connie winning as usual. Pearl leaned down to kiss the old lady on the cheek. ‘I think you cheat.’

With a look of indignation she said, ‘No I don’t, you cheeky mare.’ Connie then smiled, patting Pearl’s arm. ‘Go on, get yourself home and we’ll see you tomorrow.’

Derek walked her to the High Street as usual. As they stopped outside Pearl’s street door, he took her into his arms, neither seeing Kevin Dolby watching them from a doorway on the other side of the road, a scowl on his face.

Kevin waited until the coast was clear before he moved. He’d been looking out for Nobby Clark, but there was no sign of him. Money was really tight and he was growing frustrated, so much so that despite the last cock-up, he was ready to do another job.

Once again he scowled. That Derek was a jammy git. Pearl had blossomed lately, her figure filling out, but it was Derek who tasted the goods. Blimey, what was wrong with the girl? How could she fancy that ugly bugger?

He looked up at her window and, seeing the light go on, he crossed the road. Without money in his pocket there was no chance of a trip to Soho. Maybe it was time to give Pearl Button a try.