The Bells of Bow (35 page)

‘Or what?’ Evie slammed the kettle down on the top of the shelter.

‘You little …’ Queenie raised her hand.

Evie ducked her head, covering it with her arms. But she was saved from Queenie’s blows by the sound of someone knocking at the front door.

‘That’ll be my Albie,’ said Queenie, straightening herself up. She was breathing like a steam train. ‘Go on, let him in. Let’s hear what he’s got to say about how yer talk to me.’

Evie was sure it wouldn’t be Albie, not at six o’clock in the evening; as she walked towards the door, she prayed she was right.

She opened the door just a crack and peered out into the darkness. ‘Babs. Thank gawd.’ She pulled the door open wide and practically dragged her sister inside. ‘Come in.’

Babs grinned. ‘Yer pleased to see me then? Hope yer don’t mind me coming again so soon,’ she said as she closed the door. ‘But I was so worried about yer yesterday. Yer seemed right down.’

Evie quickly finished draping the blackout curtain over the glass panel in the door and turned to face her sister.

Babs’s mouth fell open. She reached out and touched the bruising on her twin’s face. ‘What the bloody hell happened to you?’

Queenie came storming along the passage and almost sent Babs flying as she shoved past her. ‘Can’t stop,’ she barked. ‘My Bernie’ll be expecting me.’ She pulled the door open and then twisted round to Evie. ‘And you just remember what I said.’

Babs was about to say something to Queenie but Evie stopped her. ‘No, Babs, yer don’t know what’s going on.’

‘Leave off, I can see exactly what’s been going on.’

Queenie stepped outside and slammed the door behind her, leaving them standing in the passage staring at each other.

‘I don’t need you starting, Babs.’ Evie turned her head away. Suddenly she seemed to have clammed up on her sister.

‘I ain’t starting, Eve. I told yer, I’m worried about yer.’ Babs nibbled her lip, trying to keep calm, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the bruising on Evie’s cheek. Seeing her twin suffer was just like being hurt herself. ‘He did that to yer, didn’t he?’ Babs’s voice was trembling with anger.

Evie laughed emptily. ‘Don’t be daft. I walked into the bloody door, didn’t I? I went outside in the yard. For the lav. It was dark and I didn’t have me torch. Yer know what this blackout’s like.’

‘Evie, what yer lying for? It’s me, Babs, yer can’t kid me. It
was
him, wasn’t it?’

‘Look, I’m a bit busy what with Christmas coming up and everything.’ Eve pulled back the curtain again and opened the door. ‘I’ve got a lot to do.’

‘Well, if yer busy now, I’ll come round tomorrow after work. We can have a chat then.’

‘No. I’ll drop round to number six in a day or so. When I’ve got a bit more time.’

It was nearly half past seven on Christmas Eve. Evie was standing in her kitchen, listlessly stirring a pot of soup for Albie’s supper – at least soup didn’t spoil when he came in late. Two weeks had gone by since she had seen Babs, but Evie still hadn’t been to Darnfield Street.

Albie came in the kitchen with his arms full of brown paper parcels and dumped them on top of the Morrison shelter.

‘Albie, what’s all this? What’s in ’em?’ Evie put the wooden spoon on the draining board and smiled happily – he hadn’t forgotten to buy her something after all.

Albie shrugged. ‘Some of me “clients” reckoned they could get round me by giving me little “seasonal gifts”,’ he sneered. ‘Bloody idiots. All I want’s me dough off ’em. They can shove their bloody presents.’

He strode out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Evie followed him. ‘I did me roots this afternoon,’ she said, watching him as he stripped off his shirt and took a clean one from the drawer. ‘So’s I’d look nice if we went out tonight.’ She paused. ‘Being Christmas Eve and everything.’

‘You mad?’ Albie didn’t even bother to look at her. He just got on with buttoning his shirt and fastening his cufflinks. ‘What would I wanna be seen out with you for?’

Evie fought back her tears. ‘If yer won’t take me out, won’t yer even stay indoors with me, Al? Just tonight? Please?’

‘Aw, shut yer nagging.’ Albie selected a tie and eased it under his collar.

‘Go on then,’ Eve shrieked, ‘go out with yer fancy women. Yer no good, just like everybody told me.’

Albie said nothing. He coolly picked his jacket off the bed, slipped it on, turned to face Evie and then slammed his fist into her stomach, sending her reeling backwards and crashing into the wall.

As Evie ricocheted forward, her head jerked back; she opened her eyes and, in a blur, saw Albie disappearing through the door.

The next morning, Babs was in the kitchen at number six, doggedly cutting crosses into the stalks of Brussels sprouts. The last thing she felt like doing was celebrating Christmas when she knew, deep inside as only a twin could, that Evie was in trouble. But she also knew that she had to keep up appearances for her dad’s sake. He was doing so well, settling into his new life at the fire station and, though he’d been so exhausted he’d not mentioned her so much the last few weeks – with Maudie. He still enjoyed a pint down the pub with his mates but he wasn’t boozing to forget like he used to.

All that apart, Babs still couldn’t settle. She kept looking up at the clock, wondering what Evie was doing, longing to go and fetch her, but knowing that the last thing her sister would want was for her to interfere.

She tossed the last of the sprouts into the pot and then opened the oven. The delicious smell of roasting pork filled the kitchen. And, despite her anxieties, she smiled as she thought of how proud her dad had been when he’d brought home the joint of meat, a gift from a grateful butcher whose shop Georgie and his pals had saved from being gutted by fire bombs.

She closed the oven and started setting the table for three – her, Georgie and Maud.

‘Can’t yer find room for a little one?’ someone asked her.

Babs turned round. ‘Evie!’

Eve ran her hands over her middle. ‘Well, maybe not such a little one any more.’

Babs dropped the knives and forks and hugged her sister. ‘Happy Christmas.’

‘And you. Careful, yer’ll squash me parcels.’ Evie dropped her packages on the table and then collapsed into Georgie’s carver chair that still stood by the stove. ‘Here, sort this lot out,’ she sighed.

Babs went through the pile of bags. ‘Oranges. Scotch! Where’d yer get this? Even Nellie ain’t had none of this in for I dunno how long. And there’s a … a … What
is
this?’ Babs held a heavy, plucked bird up by its legs.

‘It’s a goose.’ Evie winced as she spoke. ‘Yer can cook it tomorrow.’

‘Hark at me going on.’ Babs knelt down by Evie’s chair. ‘And there’s you, I’ve gotta say it, yer don’t look well. What’s wrong, you in pain?’

Evie tried to smile. ‘I see that old photo of us in the passage still ain’t got no glass on it.’

Babs stood up. ‘All right, so you don’t wanna tell me how you are, but I’ve been really concerned, yer know.’ She went over to the sink and began collecting up the trimmings from the sprouts, wrapping them in half a sheet of old newspaper ready to give to Maudie for her hens. ‘I wanted to come to see yer but I didn’t feel that I was very welcome.’

‘Where’s Dad? He about?’

‘No, he’s gone to have a quick pint with Jim.’

‘If he’s on the sherbert again …’ Evie began hauling herself up from the chair.

‘No, yer all right, I really meant a quick pint. He’s been as good as gold since he joined the service and since him and Maudie have been, you know, friends like.’ She flicked her head towards the table. ‘I’ve even laid a place for her. Dad’s gonna knock and see if she wants dinner with us. He went along earlier but she must’ve already gone to church.’ Babs looked up at the clock. It was a quarter past twelve. ‘They’ll be a while yet. Dad said they’d be here for one.’ Babs squatted back down next to Evie’s chair. ‘Come on, why don’t yer tell me what’s up?’

‘Me and Albie have had a few words. He went out last night and he’s been amongst the missing ever since.’

Babs did her best to sound cheerful and encouraging. ‘He’ll be round his mum’s. Yer know what she’s like, how she spoils him. He’ll have stayed there the night.’

‘Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Babs. You know as well as I do that he might well spend most days round there, but he wasn’t round there last night.’ Eve buried her face in her hands. ‘He was off with some tart again. I know he was.’

‘Eve, don’t do this to yerself, yer can’t carry on like this.’

‘So you know all about being married, do yer? You ain’t even seeing no one.’

‘There’s no need for that.’

‘No. I’m sorry, Babs.’

‘Don’t let’s have him spoil our Christmas. Come on, let’s go down the Drum and see Dad. Have a drink with him. He’d like that.’

‘How can I? Look at the state of me. Me face is all puffy and I look like a flaming barge.’ As she stared up at Babs, Evie’s eyes, with their purple smudges of exhaustion under them, looked huge in her pale, drawn face.

‘It’s up to you.’ Babs shrugged. ‘You sit there then and I’ll finish clearing up.’

Babs busied herself with the dishcloth while Evie sat silently watching her.

It was nearly half past one when Georgie came in. Babs had already started dishing up the dinner.

She looked up from carving the pork. ‘Hello, Dad,’ she said, a broad smile on her face. ‘Look who’s here to see us.’

Evie hauled herself out of the chair and went over and kissed Georgie. ‘Happy Christmas, Dad.’

Georgie hugged her to him. He stank of booze.

‘Where’s Maud, Dad?’ Babs asked as she laid a thick slice of pork and a piece of crackling on each plate.

‘She wasn’t in.’

Eve flashed a glance at Babs. ‘Must still be at church. Probably some special service for Christmas.’

‘Yeah. Must be.’

Georgie hardly spoke during the meal, then he disappeared into the front room with the bottle of Scotch that Evie had brought.

‘Shall I go and see if there’s anything I can do?’ Evie asked as Babs stacked the plates in the sink.

‘What, interfere in someone else’s private business, Evie? That’s rich coming from you, Little Miss Secrets.’

‘And how about you, Little Miss Perfect?’

‘Aw, shut up.’ Babs snatched the cloth from the draining board and began scrubbing furiously at the dirty pots and pans.

‘No,
you
shut up. Do us all a favour.’

‘Evie, here’s a cup o’ tea.’

As Evie stretched and yawned, the blanket that had been covering her legs fell to the floor. She sat up in the chair and blinked. ‘What’s going on? Where am I?’

‘It’s all right. Yer still here with me and Dad in Darnfield Street.’

‘What time is it?’ Evie rubbed her hands over her face. ‘I feel like I’ve been asleep for hours.’

‘You have. It’s Boxing morning.’

‘It’s
what
?’

‘Yer went out like a light last night. I tried to get you upstairs but I couldn’t shift yer. And Dad was no help, he was out sparko and all.’ Babs sighed loudly. ‘Mind you, that was no wonder after the amount of Scotch he put away. Come on, drink yer tea.’

‘I’ll have to get going, Babs.’ Evie tried to stand up, but her legs were numb from sleeping in the chair all night. ‘I’ll have to try and get a cab.’

‘I dunno if there’ll be any about this morning.’

‘Well, I’ll just have to walk, won’t I? I’ll drink this then I’ll get going.’ She took the cup from Babs and swallowed down the hot tea. ‘I had a smashing time yesterday, Babs. Really smashing.’

Babs smiled ruefully. ‘What, us two having a go at one another, then you sulking?’

‘Yeah, just like it used to be.’ Evie drew in her breath as she creaked her way over to the back door.

When she got back in from the lavatory, Babs was standing in the kitchen wearing her coat. She had Evie’s coat over her arm.

‘Where d’yer think you’re going?

‘With you.’

‘No, Babs, thanks all the same, but it wouldn’t help.’ Evie let Babs help her on with her coat. ‘I’ve gotta go.’

‘Yeah, I suppose Albie will be wondering where yer got to. Will he be wild with yer?’

‘Him?’ Evie laughed off the idea. ‘He won’t mind. No.’ Her fingers shook as she buttoned up her coat and picked up her handbag. ‘He’ll have got over our little tiff and he’ll be nice as pie to me. No, it’s, er, Flash I’m worried about. Yeah. Flash. See, I didn’t mean to stay this long. The poor old girl’ll have piddled herself by the time I get back home.’

‘Can I come round and see yer in the week?’

Evie did her best to smile. ‘I’d rather yer let me come and see you, Babs.’

‘So long as yer promise.’ She kissed Evie on the cheek.

‘I promise.’ Evie walked out into the passage and stopped by the door to the front room. ‘I’ll just go and say cheerio to Dad.’

‘He ain’t in there. He’d already gone out by the time I got up.’

Evie raised her eyebrows. ‘D’yer reckon he’s had words with Maud?’

Babs shrugged. ‘I’m ain’t sure, Eve, but something’s up. And I don’t just mean with Dad neither.’

Evie sat in her kitchen shaking. She was on the edge of her seat, ready to jump up and get Albie his dinner the second she heard his key in the lock. She looked up at the clock, just as she had done every five minutes or so for the last hour. She knew that if Albie wasn’t back soon, he wouldn’t be coming in till much, much later. And when he did, he’d be drunk, foul-tempered and ready to hit her again at the slightest provocation, real or imagined.

She waited another hour then, caring less about the chance of an air raid than of Albie giving her a kicking, she made her way with Flash and her suitcase back to her old home in Darnfield Street. As she stumbled along the blacked-out streets, people kept bumping into her. It might have been still five hours until midnight, only just seven o’clock in the evening, but much to the annoyance of the wardens the streets were already full of people laughing and shouting, getting ready to see in the New Year as though there was no threat of bombs, no expectation of air raids, and no hangover to worry about in the morning.

‘All right, all right,’ shouted Babs, pulling open the door. ‘Now what the hell’s going on out here?’ She took a moment to focus in the dark. ‘Eve – what on earth are you doing here? And what was all that banging?’