Two for Three Farthings (41 page)

‘Crikey, not half we wouldn't, wouldn't we, Effel?' said Orrice.

‘I don't mind,' said Effel, typically understating her approval.

‘But would you like it, Ethel?'

‘I fink so.'

‘Truly, child?'

Effel hung her shy head.

‘Yes, Miss Pilgrim,' she said, and gulped.

‘Well, that's splendid,' said Miss Pilgrim.

Jim looked up as she reappeared carrying a towel and a bar of soap, together with his face flannel and his shaving things. She seemed quite composed. She placed the items on the little bedside table, and took the tray up from his lap. The soup bowl was empty, both slices of bread and butter eaten.

‘Good,' she said, ‘now you may wash and shave.'

‘Yes, I'd like to,' said Jim, ‘but I think I'll need the bowl of hot water you promised.'

‘Pardon?'

‘It's all right, I'll ask Horace. You've done quite enough.'

‘Hot water?' Miss Pilgrim suddenly seemed not at all composed. ‘Oh, dear, have I forgotten it?' She had. But she was not herself, of course. ‘I'll get it, Mr Cooper, I'll take this tray down and be up with the bowl as soon as I can.'

‘And that's all?' said Jim wryly.

‘All? Oh, are you referring to your proposal? Yes, very well, Mr Cooper.' She made for the door.

‘Wait a moment,' said Jim, ‘what d'you mean, yes very well?'

‘I asked the children if they minded,' she said, her back to him, ‘and they were very sweet. They don't mind at all. Naturally, we must adopt them. It really won't be enough just to be their guardians.'

Jim sat straight up.

‘Rebecca, d'you mind not talking to the door? D'you mind telling me exactly what you mean?'

Still with her back to him, she said with a slight catch in her voice, ‘It means I'm very happy to know you love me.'

‘Rebecca, look at me.'

She turned about, and Jim saw that her fearless blue eyes, which missed nothing, were actually moist.

Incredible. She had been there during all the years he'd spent in Walworth. He had so often tried to convince himself that somewhere out there in the world was a woman willing to share his life, despite his background, a woman who was waiting for him. And here she was, the proudest and most courageous woman he had ever known.

And she had only been just round the corner, more or less.

‘Yes, I do love you, Rebecca, probably more than I'll ever be able to tell you.'

‘Darling, how much money do we have?'

‘Pardon?' said Jim. It was close to Christmas.

‘How much money do we have?'

‘No, what else was it you said?'

‘I'm tragically poor myself—'

‘You didn't say that.'

‘Well, I'm saying it now,' said Rebecca, ‘and I'm happy to have someone I can say it to. One is too proud to admit poverty to others. Perhaps you are tragically poor yourself, in which case we have nothing except what is in my purse and your pocket. Never mind, we shall make do on what you earn.'

‘It so happens I have this.' Jim extracted his wallet, flipped it open and showed her five white five-pound notes sitting loose between the covers. ‘I've left a few pounds in the account – Post Office savings – and I've drawn this for you. Well, for all of us, but you take charge of it. It's for wedding expenses. You'll make wiser use of it than I will.'

Rebecca took the banknotes and spread them out on the kitchen table, her blue eyes warm and alive. She gazed at the fivers, then looked at Jim.

‘Pride in someone is a happy thing,' she said. ‘I am very proud of you. Now I can buy myself a handsome costume and blouse for the wedding, which will be very useful afterwards, and a bridesmaid's frock for Effel.'

‘Effel?' said Jim, keeping his face straight.

‘Oh, horrors!' exclaimed Rebecca and clutched her forehead in theatrical despair. ‘What is to become of my King's English if Horace doesn't positively mend his ways and call his sister Ethel?'

‘You sure you don't mean Orrice?' said Jim.

Rebecca struggled to find a frosty look. Failing, she laughed.

‘Jim Cooper, you're as bad as they are,' she said.

‘Three of a kind,' said Jim, and Rebecca smiled.

‘Four of a kind, darling,' she said.

‘What did you say?' asked Jim. Endearments from Rebecca were new.

‘Four of a kind,' she said, ‘we all care for each other, you see.'

‘With all these darlings flying about, I suppose we must do,' said Jim.

‘What did you say?'

‘Nothing, you darling woman,' said Jim. ‘Will you do me a favour?'

‘Only if it's serious. You are absurdly ridiculous at times.'

‘Well, this is very serious. When you wear your new costume for the wedding, will you also wear your very best starched petticoat?'

‘Jim Cooper!'

‘I want to hear you rustle as you walk up the aisle,' said Jim.

‘You absurd man!'

‘By the way,' said Jim, ‘don't call Horace darling or he'll leave home and join the French Foreign Legion.'

They were married at St John's in the New Year. All Rebecca's friends and neighbours were there, and so were Jim's maternal grandparents, in brave defiance of their son Arthur's sour disapproval. So were Aunt Glad and Uncle Perce. The strains of the Wedding March smothered the delicate rustle and whisper of the bride's petticoat as she approached her waiting bridegroom. Emerging from the church as Mrs James John Cooper, Rebecca looked splendidly handsome in her new costume and a tall close-fitting feather-trimmed hat quite audaciously striking and modern. Effel was a shy, tongue-tied bridesmaid, Alice an excited and proud one. Orrice wore his Sunday suit and a new cap. Higgs and Cattermole turned up outside the church and catcalled Orrice over his dressed-up look. Orrice arranged to fight them both, but couldn't manage the engagement before Monday week, because he and Effel, given dispensation by the school's headmistress, were to accompany their guardian and his bride on a week's holiday in Brighton. Orrice and Effel had never been on a real holiday, so Jim and Rebecca took them along. Jim felt events had enriched him, the more so because the club management had given him a rise of ten bob a week to bring him up to the wage of a married man. Rebecca said a prayer of thanks, for it meant she need no longer slave over embroidery, but could devote herself fully to her husband and the children.

If it was a winter holiday for Orrice and Effel, it was a honeymoon for Jim and Rebecca. It was also a voyage of discovery for Jim. Rebecca, in the intimate finery of her starched and frothy white lace underwear, was worth sailing the seven seas for. And it was impossible for her not to be a pleasure to the man she had admitted into her house with many cautious reservations, but who, with his wards, had gradually thawed out the woman who had frozen eleven long years ago.

After the honeymoon, she took firm control of her newly-won family, and with the help of the vicar arranged for herself and Jim to adopt the children without delay. When it was done, she let the boy and girl know they could call her and Jim their mother and father. Orrice took that in his stride. He addressed Jim as Pa at once, and would have addressed Rebecca as Ma, except that she squashed that immediately. So he called her Mum. She would have preferred Mother or Mama, but let it go. Effel did not call her adoptive parents anything. She liked the situation, it made her feel secure, it made her feel there was affection for her, but she had her shy and sensitive reservations.

Easter approached.

‘Would you like to come to tea Easter Sunday, Alice?' asked Orrice of his best friend. You had to make a best friend of someone who'd given you a superior kind of clockwork train set, even if she was a girl.

‘Oh, would I, yes,' said Alice, now ten. Orrice was eleven and due to transfer to West Square in September. ‘You are a dear, Horace.'

‘Alice, you don't 'ave to go off yer chump, yer know,' said Orrice, looking around to see if Higgs was in dangerous proximity.

‘But you can call me dear too,' said Alice. ‘Are you going anywhere on Easter Bank Holiday?'

‘Yes, if it's a nice day,' said Orrice.

‘If it is, we're goin' to 'Ampstead 'Eaf,' said Effel, ‘they want to try the coconut shy an' go on the swings.'

‘Who do?' asked Alice.

Effel looked scornful.

‘Why, me mum an' dad, of course,' she said, and did a little dance and a jig as they walked up Larcom Street together, towards the Walworth Road.

Towards home.

Towards Mum and Dad.

The End

Mary Jane Staples
was born, bred and educated in Walworth, and is the author of many bestselling novels, including the ever-popular cockney sagas featuring the Adams family.

Down Lambeth Way

Our Emily

King of Camberwell

On Mother Brown's Doorstep

A Family Affair

Missing Person

Pride of Walworth

Echoes of Yesterday

The Young Ones

The Camberwell Raid

The Last Summer

The Family at War

Fire Over London

Churchill's People

Bright Day, Dark Night

Tomorrow is Another Day

The Way Ahead

Year of Victory

The Homecoming

Sons and Daughters

Appointment at the Palace

Changing Times

Spreading Wings

Family Fortunes

A Girl Next Door

Ups and Downs

Out of the Shadows

A Sign of the Times

The Soldier's Girl

 

The Lodger

Rising Summer

The Pearly Queen

Sergeant Joe

The Trap

The Ghost of Whitechapel

Escape to London

The Price of Freedom

A Wartime Marriage

Katernia's Secret

The Summer Day is Done

The Longest Winter

Natasha's Dream

Nurse Anna's War

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TWO FOR THREE FARTHINGS

A CORGI BOOK : 0 552 13635 2
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781446488430

First publication in Great Britain

Printing History

Corgi edition published 1990

7 9 10 8 6

Copyright © Mary Jane Staples 1990

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