Tuppence to Tooley Street (25 page)

Danny got up and washed his face in cold water, grimacing at the puffiness under his eyes and the light stubble around his chin. He dressed quickly and went back into the bedroom. ‘I’m gonna remember this room,’ he said, pulling Alison to him. She held him at bay and smiled. ‘Come on, let’s get some breakfast,’ she said.

Down in the dining–room two other couples sat at breakfast. A dark–skinned man was chatting incessantly to a woman who nodded at him between mouthfuls of egg and bacon. Another couple was utterly silent. Danny became intrigued as he waited with Alison for their breakfast to appear. The man was much older than his partner and he continued to glance at her while he ate. The girl returned his look occasionally with an angry glare. Whatever row had happened between them last night was spilling over into the morning, Danny thought. He saw the man point to the last piece of toast on the plate and in answer the girl with him nodded her head. The man picked up the slice of toast and dipped it into the yolk of his egg with a vengeance, the girl watching disdainfully as he greedily devoured the toast. It’s a good job bedrooms can’t talk, he mused.

Alison touched his hand briefly. ‘Don’t stare, Danny,’ she chided him.

‘You ought ter be sittin’ where I’m sittin’,’ he whispered. ‘There’s a full–scale war of silence goin’ on be’ind yer.’

Two portions of egg, bacon and tomatoes were placed in front of them with a plate of thin, crispy toast. The fat cheery lady who had shown them to their room came in carrying a tray with a small china teapot, cups and saucers, milk and sugar. She placed the tray on the table and smiled. ‘I hope you both slept well?’

‘I was off as soon as I ’it the piller,’ Danny grinned, and Alison flushed slightly.

They ate their breakfast in silence. The other couples had left and the only other person in the room was a weary–looking girl who was busy laying fresh tablecloths on the cleared tables. She yawned as she carried a pile of plates out to the kitchen. Danny watched her exit with some amusement. ‘’Appy soul, ain’t she?’

‘I don’t suppose she’s got much to laugh about,’ Alison answered, sipping her tea.

Danny could sense some irritability in her tone but chose to ignore it. He glanced at the wall clock. ‘It’s only jus’ nine, we’ve got plenty o’ time.’

‘I don’t want to leave it to the last minute, Danny. I don’t relish standing in the corridor all the way to Cardiff.’

Danny gave her a quick look, surprised at her brusque tone. Maybe she was always sharp in the mornings, he thought. It was the first time he had been with her at this time of day. His sister Lucy was the same, it was almost impossible to get a civil word from her before midday. Danny felt a little confused. Though she had given him some insight into her feelings during their conversation in the park yesterday, she still remained mysterious. He sensed her sadness was never far from the surface. He had first begun to notice it back at the hospital in Dover when even in her light–hearted moments she had seemed to be under a shadow. He sensed that the loss of her pilot was only a part of it. Danny was sure it went deeper. She had told him of her fear that she was unable to give a total love but he was puzzled. Last night she had given herself with abandon. She had been willing and eager to lead them both to the heights and had succeeded without any hesitation, without any apparent anxiety. Maybe she desired the very thing she rejected, and snuffed out any chances of finding it with casual flings. Danny hated himself for even thinking that he might just be one of her brief affairs. She had told him that there had been no one before her pilot, but she might have taken lovers since. His thoughts tortured him and he felt a strong urge to get away from the hotel, to walk out into the dull morning and leave his twisted, confused feelings behind.

The weary maid appeared carrying clean folded tablecloths. Alison looked at Danny. ‘We’d better get started,’ she said. ‘I think she wants to clean up.’

Danny settled the bill and they walked out of the side street and into the morning crowds at Paddington Station. Danny bought a platform ticket and walked along beside the carriages until Alison jerked on his arm. ‘Here’s an empty one.’

Danny climbed aboard the train and put Alison’s suitcase on the luggage rack. He stepped down again onto the platform and Alison joined him. ‘I’ll always remember last night, Danny,’ she said. ‘It was wonderful.’

‘Don’t ferget ter write. I can meet yer when yer come back ter London.’

Alison nodded but said nothing.

‘I could come down ter Dover if they ease the restrictions, Alison.’

She touched his arm. ‘Don’t let’s make any plans yet. I’ll write to you, I promise.’

The railway guard walked along the platform, his green flag held ready. The lovers kissed and Alison pulled away from his grasp. As she climbed aboard the train the guard raised his flag. Danny stood watching as the train drew away, and he waved until Alison’s head disappeared into the carriage. He thought about their conversation in the park, and the quiet moonlit room in the backstreet, and then turned on his heel to walk away down the platform.

Frank Sutton was prowling around the house waiting for Joe Copeland’s knock. It was the time of day when Alice made her views known, and she chose this particular time for good reason. Frank could be argumentative and was inclined to ‘argue the hind legs off a donkey’, as she put it, so when she had something important to say or a telling point to make, Alice caught him when he was getting ready to go to work. Frank had to get to work on time or he would miss the ‘call–on’, so he didn’t have time to argue with her. And then he would have all day to dwell on what she had said, and in the evening after a hard day’s work, Frank would be too tired to argue. It was the way Alice made sure that she was listened to.

Today Alice had a point to make and she timed it to perfection. ‘I don’t mind Danny comin’ and goin’, Frank,’ she said as her husband looked anxiously at the door, ‘but ’is bed wasn’t slept in last night. Gawd knows where ’e is, but I do know ’e was takin’ this nurse out.’ And she looked at Frank to check that he understood her.

Frank sighed as he looked through the curtains and saw Joe hurrying along the turning. ‘I’ve told yer before, Alice,’ he said. ‘’E’s over twenty–one. I can’t stop ’is sweets or smack ’is arse, now can I?’

‘It ain’t the point, Frank. ’E could ’ave told us ’e wasn’t comin’ ’ome. Somefink could ’ave ’appened to ’im. You’ll ’ave ter talk to ’im, you’re ’is farver.’

‘I ain’t got no time ter argue wiv yer, Alice. Joe’s comin’ along the street. Anyway, I don’t s’pose ’e knew ’e was gonna stop out.’

‘Well I want yer ter ’ave a word in ’is ear. ’E might take notice o’ you.’

Frank opened his mouth to utter a choice profanity, but Joe’s rat–tat stopped him. ‘I’ll see yer ternight, Alice. We’ll talk about it then.’

Alice felt pleased with what she had accomplished. She reckoned that there was enough on her plate, what with Connie being all upset over Jimmy, and now Maggie springing it on her about sending the kids away from London, without having to worry about Danny’s roamings. Young Tony Arpino had come round to see him and had had to leave a message. It wasn’t good enough, Alice told herself, as she took the broom to the passage carpet. Frank will have to say something to him. Stopping out all night is asking for trouble. Danny might have got the poor girl pregnant. Worse still, he might be lying in some hospital. Her thoughts were beginning to make her feel panicky, so she decided the housework could wait. She would go over for a chat with her friend Annie instead. She scribbled a short message on the back of a brown paper bag and after looking it over she propped it up in front of the teapot in the centre of the kitchen table.

In The Globe Eddie Kirkland was having a chat with the subdued owner of Shady Lady, the dog who had broken the track record at Catford last Saturday night. After three consecutive nights of revelry, Biff Bowden was feeling the effects. His winnings had all but disappeared and he was being consoled by the landlord.

‘You looked drunk as a sack on Sat’day night, Biff,’ Eddie said. ‘Sunday night yer didn’t look much better. Don’t yer remember offerin’ ter buy everybody a drink? Then there was those games o’ darts at a fiver a time. No wonder you’re skint.’

‘Tell yer the trufe, Eddie, the weekend’s a bleedin’ blank. I don’t remember much about it at all.’

Eddie grinned. ‘Yer don’t remember the ruckus last night then?’

‘No.’

‘Well I’ll tell yer what ’appened. It must ’ave bin about ’alf nine when Bonky Williams walked in wiv a strange geezer. I’ve never clapped eyes on ’im before. Proper scruff ’e was. Anyway, Bonky starts ’is tricks in front of ’is mate–you know what Bonky’s like. Last night ’e ’ad a black patch over ’is wonky eye. You was proppin’ the counter up an’ tryin’ ter date our new barmaid, when up walks Bonky. ’E stan’s next ter yer an’ orders a drink fer ’im an’ ’is mate. Now, when Carol puts the glasses down in front of ’im, dear Bonky opens ’is fist an’ tells the girl to ’elp ’erself. Right in the middle of the coppers was ’is glass eye. Carol screams out, an’ you, yer soppy git, knocks Bonky’s ’and up in the air and the money goes everywhere. But Bonky ain’t concerned about ’is money, ’e’s more worried about ’is glass eye. We ’ad the customers on their ’ands an’ knees lookin’ fer it. You was tryin’ ter organise the search an’ yer offered a fiver reward. Bonky’s copped the needle by this time, ’e wants ter crown yer wiv ’is pint mug, an’ ’e would’ave done if it wasn’t fer our potman. ’E calms Bonky down an’ we got you stuck away in the corner. Proper to–do it was.’

‘Bloody ’ell, Eddie, I’m sorry about that. Did Bonky find’is eye?’

‘Yeah, Arfur found it. ’Course, that started it off again. The ole chap was doin’ ’is nut ’cos yer wouldn’t pay up the reward. Honest, Biff, you was as pissed as an ’andcart. If that bloody dog o’ yours ever wins the Grey’ound Derby I’m gonna shut the pub up fer a week. I’m gettin’ too old fer all this aggro.’

At noon Danny walked into the pub. His message from Tony Arpino had been that he should look in The Globe around twelve and that it was urgent. Danny was due at Ginny’s at twelve–thirty, and it was on the half hour that Tony walked in looking agitated. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said breathing hard. ‘I gotta see yer, Danny, there’s trouble brewin’ in our street an’ I’m scared fer me ole man.’

Danny looked up at the clock. ‘I’m due on me pitch, Tony,’ he said. ‘Walk round wiv me, we can ’ave a chin wag on the way.’

They left The Globe and walked towards Clink Lane. Tony seemed reluctant to begin. ‘Look, Danny, I know yer in wiv Tony Allen’s crowd, but . . .’

‘’Ang on a minute, Tone. I take bets fer ’im, that’s all. I don’t socialise wiv ’em. Least of all Jack Mason.’

‘It’s ’im I wanna talk ter yer about,’ Tony said as he grabbed his pal’s arm and halted.

‘Go on, Tony.’

‘Last time I see yer, Danny, I told yer about those two fellers what come round our street. Well they come back. They called in all the shops an’ they give us all the spiel. It’s a protection racket.’

‘What’s that gotta do wiv Jack Mason?’ Danny asked.

Tony gave his pal a hard look. ‘I’d bet a pound to a pinch o’ shit ’e’s be’ind it.’

‘What makes yer say that, Tone?’

‘’Cos I’ve seen Mason wiv those two ugly gits, that’s why.’

‘Where?’

‘Down New Cross dogs last Sat’day night.’

‘It might ’ave bin a coincidence, Tony.’

‘No chance. I was wiv Johnny Ross. ’E told me they’re always tergevver. It don’t take a Sherlock ’Olmes ter work it out, does it?’

Danny started to walk to Ginny’s front door with Tony falling in beside him. ‘Tell me, Tone, ’ow are they workin’ it?’

‘It’s the usual fing. Accordin’ ter them, there’s a team from over the water tryin’ it on, an’ we’re bein’ offered protection–at a price.’

‘Ain’t none o’ the shopkeepers gone ter the police?’

‘Leave orf, Danny, yer know the way they work. They’ve scared the daylights out o’ most of ’em. ’Cept me farver, that is. ’E was gonna go roun’ the nick, but me muvver wouldn’t let’im.’

Danny stopped at Ginny’s house. ‘I don’t know what I can do, Tony,’ he said.

The young Italian looked down at his feet. ‘I know you an’ Kathy were close once, an’ I ’ear she still goes a bundle on yer.’

‘So?’

‘I also ’ear that Jack Mason’s givin’ ’er an ’ard time an’ she’d leave ’im if she wasn’t so terrified of the consequences.’

‘Go on, Tony.’

‘Look, Danny, I know it’s askin’ a lot, but can yer ’ave a talk wiv ’er? See if yer can get ’er ter find out when those two monkeys are comin’ round again. She might ’ear somefink.’

Danny shook his head. ‘I don’t s’pose they’d tell Kathy anyfing, an’ she can’t very well ask ’em, can she?’

‘All right, it’s an outside bet, Danny, but she might just over’ear somefink. They might use Mason’s place fer a get tergevver. We’ve gotta know when they’re comin’ back so we can be ready fer ’em.’

‘Listen, Tone, even if the law grabs ’em, yer won’t get Jack Mason. ’E don’t do ’is own dirty work, ’e leaves that to ’is mugs. All right, they might try ter implicate ’im, but it’s on the cards Mason’s boys’ll keep their mouths shut.’

Tony gave Danny an entreating look. ‘I wouldn’t ask yer, Danny,’ he said, ‘but I’m scared they’re gonna do the ole man some ’arm. We want those gits o’ Mason’s right out o’ the way, an’ if the law don’t pull Mason in I’ll take care of ’im meself.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Tony. Jack Mason is an animal. ’E’d eat yer alive.’

‘You let me worry about ’im,’ Tony said, gritting his teeth. ‘Will yer ’ave a chat wiv Kathy?’

Danny puffed out his cheeks. ‘Okay, Tone, I’ll see what I can do.’

Tony Arpino’s plea only added to Danny’s feeling of depression. His problems seemed to be piling up without any answers. When he had returned home that morning his mother had berated him about staying out all night, he was playing with fire in keeping a young girl out all night. Danny had ignored her and stormed out to The Globe but there was no one around. The street was in mourning for Bella and seemed uncannily quiet. Even old Charlie Perkins was forgoing his seat in the sun.