Tuppence to Tooley Street (35 page)

‘I do, Alison, I need a marriage. I want ter wake up wiv yer every mornin’, and not jus’ now an’ then, when yer can get time orf. I want yer, an’ I want kids, an’ a place fer us ter live in.’

Alison’s eyes clouded and she looked away. ‘There’s no magic in a home and children, Danny. Not for me. I’m sorry if it hurts you when I say that. You may think I’m strange, but it’s how I feel. I can’t alter, any more than you can. You remember the last time we were together? I told you then that I needed an understanding. We can be lovers, there’s nothing wrong in that. We can be happy, I know we can, Danny. We don’t need a marriage to seal our love for each other. There’s just no magic in a marriage for me. Can’t you understand that?’

Danny looked at her, and knew that nothing he could say would make her change her mind. If he wanted her, it must be like this; fleeting and unsure.

The sun was slipping down as they walked slowly to the hospital gates. Alison looked at her watch and gave Danny a brief smile. ‘We’d better say goodbye here, Danny. I’ve got to be on duty at seven.’

He pulled her to him and they kissed. She clung to him. ‘Write to me soon, Danny. Maybe we can meet again soon. We can be happy this way, I know we can.’

Danny released his clasp and stood back from her, silent.

Alison touched his arm and walked away up the long gravel path to the entrance of the hospital. At the front steps she waved to him and then disappeared from his sight, and he walked wearily back to the station. It was cooler now and dark clouds were beginning to close out the sky. ‘There’ll be no fairyland up there ternight,’ he said aloud.

August passed by and cool September breezes heralded the autumn. In the little backstreets of dockland life went on. A chastened and wiser Johnny Ross was welcomed back into The Globe. When he left the police station after signing for his belongings, he felt the dark shadow of the noose lifting from around his neck. On that Friday night when he had looked down on the battered face of Jack Mason he had been mistaken in thinking the villain was dead. Al Vincetti had merely rendered him unconscious with his parting blow, and if Johnny had delayed leaving Cora’s for another few minutes he would have seen the grotesque murder.

Charlie Thompson had visited a few riverside pubs and was staggering along the turning that led out opposite The Ferryman. Even in his drunken state he decided that he would give that particular pub a miss as he knew that Jack Mason and his cronies used The Ferryman. The longstanding feud between the two had never been resolved, and Charlie Thompson’s hatred for the villain was never more intense than when he was drunk. The docker crossed the street unsteadily and staggered up the kerb. He had left the pub behind him and was feeling his way along when he suddenly tripped over something hard and landed on all fours on the pavement. His eyes rolled and he saw the unconscious figure of Jack Mason lying only inches away from him. Looking down into the battered face he blinked in disbelief. Slowly he staggered to his feet and fought to keep his footing, then he snarled and kicked out hard with his heavy boots. Three times his boot thumped into Jack Mason’s skull, then the docker lost his footing and fell into the gutter. He got up and stumbled awkwardly from the turning unseen. The ladies from the sewing circle had left the street corner only minutes before.

Soon after Johnny Ross was released from custody, Tony Arpino left his hideout in Clerkenwell and made his way apprehensively to his parents’ shop in Bermondsey Lane. He had heard that the police had started looking for Charlie Thompson in connection with the murder of Mason after Violet Thompson made a statement at Dockhead police station. Tony was worried in case anything should emerge about how he and his pals had been involved in the Mason affair. The few words in the daily papers seemed to suggest that whoever killed Mason had done so in a very brutal fashion, but there was nothing he read that led him to believe he and his friends were likely to be implicated. The Bermondsey Lane shopkeepers were visibly relieved by the disappearance of the protection mob, relations between the Arpinos and the rest of the shopowners began to improve, and Lou and Sofia were welcoming a few of their old customers back to their store.

Tony was cheered by the letter that was waiting for him when he got home. It was from Melissa. She wrote that her family had been interned on the Isle of Man, conditions there were not too bad, and everyone seemed to be settling down in the camp. Melissa said in her letter that she loved him and missed him terribly, and Tony smiled. For the first time in what seemed to be ages, his future looked rosy.

The Globe carried on with business as usual. Customers moaned over the quality of the beer but continued to drink there. Biff Bowden was drunk for a whole week when his dog won the coveted Blue Cross Stakes, and Shady Lady was then retired on her favourite diet of Guinness and arrowroot. At least once every week Bonky Williams sidled over to Biff and bought him a drink. Then he would look closely at Biff with an earnest glint in his one good eye and ask him, ‘’Ow’s yer dog, Biff ? She puppin’ yet?’

Bonky’s obsession with Shady Lady’s sex life puzzled Biff. ‘I reckon it’s those bleedin’ magazines ’e’s readin’,’ he remarked to Eddie, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated gesture of shock.

The landlord of The Globe was reticent. ‘I fink our friend Bonky’s turnin’ over a new leaf. D’yer know, ’e ain’t took ’is eye out fer ages.’ Eddie ran a ‘sweet’ pub as he called it, and he was hoping it was going to stay that way.

Down along the Tower Bridge Road the sounds of the mission organ rang out every Sunday morning. ‘Dear old Mister Craddock’, the elderly ladies would say to each other at every meeting, gazing at the frail figure bent over the organ keys with fervour. Mr Craddock the organist had given up his part–time job of letter writing–things were getting hot at the tribunal hearings, and his continued presence there seemed to be drawing suspicious glances from the court usher. But he had found another channel for his patriotic endeavours: when the weather was nice he wandered over to Speaker’s Corner and heckled the pacifists. ‘We had enough of you lot in the last war,’ he would shout out to the orator.

‘Go on, Pop, tell the bloody traitor about the trenches and the mustard gas,’ others would call out.

Mr Craddock ignored the remarks of the audience and walked away. He could still see those soldiers in 1914, marching like heroes away to war.

Ben Morrison had received his call–up papers and he was soon to be drafted into the Royal Army Medical Corps. Lucy’s pregnancy was confirmed, and she and Ben were married rather hurriedly at a registry office. Lucy told her family that she had not wanted to wait, and being married would give Ben some extra responsibility and would help him to cope with army life that much better. Alice and her children exchanged knowing winks as she mentioned to her Frank that she had a feeling they would soon become grandparents. Frank, in his usual argumentative way, rejected the idea as nonsense. ‘Lucy won’t start a family yet, Muvver,’ he said, ‘she’s got more sense.’

‘All right, Mister Know–All, we’ll jus’ ’ave ter wait an’ see, won’t we?’ Alice said with a ghost of a grin on her lined face.

Danny’s eldest sister Maggie and her husband Joe were very much relieved when a letter arrived from a farmer and his wife saying that their two children were enjoying their stay in the Cotswolds. The kids had taken to life on the farm and were both enrolled at the village school. There was a short letter enclosed from the children, saying how much they liked their new home, and Maggie and Joe were also given an invitation to go and meet the farmer and his wife and to stay for a long weekend when they could manage it. Maggie was enthusiastic about the trip, but Joe had reservations.

‘It’ll be nice ter see the kids, but the farm might be miles from anywhere,’ Joe said. ‘I bet there ain’t a pub in the village.’

‘Course there will be,’ Maggie countered. ‘I bet the locals won’t be as bad as that scatty crowd you get wiv in The Globe every Saturday night.’

Joe was doubtful, although he had to admit to himself that the beer could not be any worse than the rubbish Eddie had been serving lately.

Connie Sutton was looking forward to the end of September with excitement. Jimmy was now back home in England and would be given leave soon. Connie had been to see the parish priest and their wedding was planned for the first week in October. Jimmy had been transferred to the Home Fleet and Connie was hoping to find a flat in Portsmouth as soon as the wedding was over.

‘That’ll be the girls all married off,’ Alice remarked to Frank. ‘That only leaves that wayward son of ours. I wish ’e’d get ’imself a nice girl.’

Frank Sutton grinned. ‘Danny’s got more sense. ’E ain’t in too much of an’ ’urry. I mean, there’s all that naggin’ and moanin’. A man’s better off lovin’ ’em an’ leavin’ ’em.’

Alice gave her husband an icy stare. ‘Yer ain’t done so bad. You know where yer arse ’angs.’

‘On the bleedin’ floor, what wiv all these weddin’s in the family,’ Frank quipped.

The Thompsons had moved away from Clink Lane. Violet and Kathy had gone to live in Rotherhithe. The little backwater off Tooley Street held too many bad memories, and being in Rotherhithe suited them. They were not too far away from their friends, and from their front door they could still smell the river and hear familiar sounds carrying into the quiet street. Kathy returned to her old job. On her first day back she had by chance bumped into Connie Sutton, who told her that Danny had stopped working for Tony Allen and was now going into the greengrocery business with his pal Johnny Ross. The mention of Danny’s name had sent a familiar dull ache running around inside her, and Kathy knew that there would always be a special place for him in her heart. She had remembered him saying that he would be around, and that he wasn’t going anywhere, but she realised he had only said that in an effort to cheer her up. A lot of water had gone under the bridge and she figured it wasn’t realistic to imagine that she and Danny could get together once more. It was time now to pick up the pieces and start again. Maybe one day she would be able to meet Danny in the street without feeling ashamed and confused.

The young cockney felt a heaviness weighing down on him from which he could not escape. His surroundings, and the people he had known for years, could do nothing to lift his spirits. He tried to fill up the days by throwing himself into the new venture with Johnny Ross. Sometimes it worked. They were a good team. Their greengrocery shop was attracting customers and the trade was improving. Most of the time however, the nagging emptiness was still there, beneath all the activity and hard work. Danny felt his life was leading him nowhere. His love for the two women had left him feeling lost and inadequate. As much as he thought of those brief sojourns with Alison he realised that it could not go on in that way. The excitement of their meetings would dull in time and there would be nothing left. And yet she insisted on there being no more. It could have been different with Kathy. She was desperately unhappy and he could have said the right words when he held her close in the hospital; she was in love with him and wanted him to say he loved her, but the letter in his pocket had prevented him from grabbing happiness for both of them. In the beginning, the war had parted them just when he was becoming aware of how much she could mean to him, and so much had happened in the few months since his return. Now there was a ghastly shadow in Kathy’s past, and he wondered whether she would ever be able to rid herself of the dark ghost of Jack Mason.

Danny realised with a sinking feeling that he had played such a small part in the events around him, and he felt suddenly sad and older. Deep down he had made a decision, and he knew there was only one thing he could do, and there would be no going back.

 

His pulse beat faster as he reached the little back lane and knocked on the front door. He heard light footsteps and the door opened. The pale, dark–eyed girl stood there looking at him for a few seconds without saying anything. Her eyes widened and two blotches of colour came to her face. Danny grinned, his thumbs hooked into his trouser pockets and his shoulders hunched. ‘’Ello, Kath,’ he said.

Kathy Thompson stepped back a pace. ‘’Ello, Danny, it’s nice ter see yer. Won’t yer come in?’

Danny followed her into the small parlour. It was cool and shadowy, and he could smell the flowers that were arranged in a blue glass vase on the table.

It was a bright day outside. The Saturday afternoon sky was cloudless and sunlight danced on the Thames, making the water sparkle like a river of grey glass. The docks and wharves were quiet and deserted, ships and barges lay at anchor, rocking gently on the turning tide. Seagulls cried out as they glided through the air, diving suddenly down low around the deserted quays, and mooring hawsers strained against the wash from a slowly patrolling police launch. The cobbled riverside lanes were quiet. The street hawkers had come and gone, and inside the open windows the fresh lace curtains hung limp in the still air.