Cockney Orphan (2 page)

Connie blinked as she digested the fact that they were talking about a burglary in which a gun had been used. ‘Billy, do you realize you’ve committed a crime?’ she demanded
when she got her breath back.

‘Charlie and Reg said they’d put the squeeze on me if I didn’t.’

‘How could they do that?’

‘I done a few jobs for Reg, see. Nothing big. Not really. You name me anyone who isn’t up for a touch in wartime, Con. There’s always a bit of black market to be had and
you’d be a fool not to take it. We all enjoy knocked off stuff now and then, even Mum and Dad, who turn a blind eye to a few perks, so I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’

‘There’s a difference between perks and stealing.’ She stared at him coldly. ‘What happened then?’

‘Me and Charlie was driving through Poplar and heading back to the island. Charlie’s lost his bottle and he’s heading hell for leather for the foot tunnel. He lives over
Greenwich, see? Well, the next thing I know is he’s had it on his toes and I’m left sitting there like a lemon with me dabs all over the car.’

‘What car? Who does it belong to?’ Connie asked bewilderedly.

‘Dunno. Charlie nicked it for the job.’

‘Billy, that’s terrible.’

‘I told you, I got in too deep to get out.’

They sat in silence. Connie’s heart pounded as she thought of the repercussions of the mounting crimes that Billy was involved in.

‘You can drive, Con,’ Billy said suddenly. ‘You learned last year for the war effort. It would be dead easy for you to drive the motor right up to the river, then we could just
push it in.’

‘You are joking, I hope?’

‘I ain’t got no one else to ask, Con. If the coppers find that car with me fingerprints in, I’m a dead duck. I’ll get me collar tugged and what will Mum do then?
She’d never live down the shame of it. I couldn’t do that to her, honest I couldn’t.’

‘Why didn’t you think of that before, Billy?’

‘I know. Today has taught me the lesson of a lifetime.’

‘And I’m supposed to believe you?’

He reached out to grasp her hand. ‘It’s the truth, Con. I want to change me ways. I just need a chance. The car is the only thing that links me with the job. No one’s gonna
find it in the water, not for ages, especially with Jerry doing his business. Even the divers can’t see a foot in front of them on a clear day.’ He squeezed her hand tightly.
‘Remember as kids we’d watch them with their big bowl helmets and long pipes? You was always telling me they kept goldfish in them, remember? Happy days, weren’t they,
gel?’

Connie knew she was a soft touch and Billy was taking advantage of it. If he was caught, Mum would never live down the shame. Being arrested and sent to prison was something that happened to
others but not to the Marsh family. As for her own job at Dalton’s Import, Storage and Transport Services – well, she’d soon be brought down to earth with all the gossip that
would abound. But all these things were nothing compared to the effect that prison would have on Billy himself.

He’d been such an innocent, lovely kid once, always trailing at her heels, just wanting to be with her. She was close to Kev too, but in a different way. Kevin was practical, like Mum, and
self-sufficient. Billy was a dreamer and vulnerable. She didn’t want to believe those days were over, that Billy was growing away from her into someone she didn’t know.

She looked into his eyes. ‘I must be mad to listen to you, Billy Marsh.’

He hugged her hard. ‘I knew you’d understand.’

She couldn’t refuse the little boy who smelled of dirt and soap and had made her laugh with his funny antics, never taking anything seriously if he could help it. She looked into his young
face, at the angelic features and soft, full lips of a child. He still had bum fluff on his chin and her heart went out to the brother she adored. ‘I love you, Billy Marsh. And that’s
my trouble. I love you too much.’

T
he raid, which had started about four o’clock, now seemed to be over. Connie had never known such a long two hours and even when the all
clear went, she didn’t want to stick even her nose outside the Anderson, much less her whole body.

‘Come on, this is our chance,’ Billy insisted, grabbing her arm.

‘But what if the planes come back,’ Connie argued, ‘and we’re caught in the open?’

‘All the more reason to hurry,’ Billy urged as he struggled to dislodge the door. ‘If we’re lucky, Jerry might have clobbered the motor, blasted it sky high, and that
would solve all our problems, eh?’

Connie wasn’t sure which she was most frightened of, a return of the enemy bombers or helping Billy to dispose of the car. She was about to voice her doubts when he managed to pull open
the door. Half a dozen sandbags toppled in, followed by a cloud of dust. Billy stepped over them and looked up at the house. ‘Blimey, the place is still standing! That’s a miracle, that
is.’

Connie peered over his shoulder. Number thirty-three Kettle Street was a pale shadow lost in the swirling dust, but all was intact as far as she could see.

‘Watch your step,’ Billy warned as he led the way into the house. They stepped across the fallen door and paused in the gap at the front where it had once hung. A September breeze
whistled past them, bringing with it the smell of burning oil. Shrapnel, bricks and shattered glass were strewn across the little patch of grass outside and all the way down the street.

‘Oh, Billy, I don’t recognize our road, do you?’ They listened to the distant wails of the ambulances. ‘It’s so eerie. Like the end of the world.’

‘Yeah, well it will be if we don’t get a move on.’ He grabbed her hand.

‘I’m scared.’ Connie looked up at the sky. She couldn’t see very much, only the beams of the searchlights and the immense bottoms of the barrage balloons.
‘Let’s wait till tomorrow.’

Billy shook his head, pulling her with him. ‘Tomorrow will be too late. Come on, stick with me, you’ll be all right.’

They broke into a run. Connie found it hard to breathe in the polluted air. But every time she slowed down, Billy pulled her on. The soles of their feet crunched noisily over glass and shattered
roof tiles. Buckets full of sand had been left untouched in doorways and fires burned in the rubble by craters that appeared in the roads. Somewhere close by she could hear the shouts of the rescue
teams working quickly before another raid.

In Haverick Street, she saw a fireplace hanging by a whisker to the first floor wall of a terraced house. The frame of a chair lay smouldering beneath. What had once been two or three houses
filled with treasured personal possessions was now a mountain of smouldering debris.

‘Billy, stop. There might be people under all that.’

‘Connie, we ain’t got time.’

‘But someone might be trapped!’

‘The ARP will be along soon. They’ll dig them out.’

Connie took a step forward. ‘Listen, I can hear something!’

‘It’s only a cat or a dog,’ he yelled, trying to pull her back.

But she could clearly identify a noise now, like someone moaning. If only she knew where to start! A pall of dust surrounded her as she pulled away the bricks and broken wood. Splinters dug into
her skin and some of the concrete was too heavy to move. ‘Billy, help me!’ she cried, but when she looked round Billy shook his head.

‘I can’t stop, Connie.’

‘Please help me, Billy.’ Her hands trembled as she dug into the rubble. The noise was still there, louder now as she clawed at the pieces of plaster. Was there a human being beneath
all this rubbish? And, if so, how could they help them? What would the person look like if she did find them? Would there be blood and broken limbs to contend with?

Connie suddenly stopped. The space behind her was empty. ‘Billy!’ she screamed. But she knew it was no use. He’d gone.

A scratching noise made her jump. She stretched out to lift a large slate balanced precariously on the top of the pile. Suddenly a hand appeared and the fingers moved! As she lifted off more
bricks the hand grew into an arm, a shoulder, and finally a head. The young girl was trapped by a piece of timber too heavy for Connie to lift.

‘My baby,’ the girl whimpered. ‘Please save my baby.’

‘Your baby?’ Connie faltered. ‘Where?’

‘Here . . . here . . .’

But where was here? Connie wondered as a little trail of blood trickled from the girl’s mouth. She tried to remember the first aid she had learned at school. But they had only ever
practised on dolls and even those were lying flat on the floor. Applying bandages had been easy in the safety of the school classroom. But this was real life, with someone who must be in terrible
pain. ‘I’ll run for some help,’ she decided then, but the girl’s eyes flashed wide.

‘No . . . don’t leave us, don’t go . . .’

‘But I can’t help you alone,’ Connie replied gently. ‘I’ll find a rescue team, bring them quickly—’

‘No . . . no . . . time . . . please try . . .’

Connie couldn’t leave her. But the roof slates were broken and sharp, the bricks heavy. How would she ever manage to free her or find her baby with all this rubbish on top? As she lifted
one brick, two more tumbled down in its place.

The girl gave a sigh. Her voice was low. ‘Look after my baby . . . won’t you? Please, promise me . . . ?’

Connie nodded slowly. ‘Yes . . . yes, I promise.’

A little sigh rattled deep in the back of the girl’s throat. Connie stared into eyes that seemed to be looking beyond her into another world. She had never seen anyone die before.

‘Miss? Are you all right?’

Connie heard the voice from very far away as though in a dream. Her head swam as she tried to focus. The next thing she knew, a young man wearing an ARP helmet was patting her back gently.
‘Take a deep breath. You’ll feel better in a minute.’

Connie gulped in air. ‘What happened?’

His arm was around her waist. ‘You were going to faint, that’s all.’

‘Was I?’

‘I’m afraid that poor girl is beyond our help.’

Connie followed his gaze, then looked away again. ‘I felt so useless,’ she croaked. ‘She asked me to find her baby.’

‘Under there?’ He shook his head doubtfully. ‘We’ll need manpower to shift that lot.’

‘Couldn’t we try,’ Connie protested as she struggled out of his grasp. ‘Both of us together?’

He went over to the girl and gently closed her eyes. ‘All right, we’ll have a quick shufti and see what we can do. If the planes come back, though, we’ll have to make a run for
it. Now, from the angle of her body, she’s lying on something and as we can’t move that beam let’s take the stuff from underneath her first.’

Connie tried not to look at the sad white face as she bent to help him. As they pulled rubble out they were careful not to create an avalanche. Slowly a hole began to appear.

‘Can you see anything in there?’ Connie asked as he went on his knees and looked in.

‘Yeah, one of those big brass coal scuttles that open at the front.’ The top half of his body disappeared through the gap and Connie felt like holding on to his boots just in case he
might disappear for ever. But then she heard him shout and soon he was wriggling back again. This time he held a bundle in his arms.

‘A baby!’ Connie gasped as he kneeled on the ground and unwrapped the filthy shawl. ‘Is it alive?’

‘No doubt about it, he’s got his eyes wide open.’

‘He?’

The young man grinned. ‘Well, he looks like a he to me, but then again, he might wash up like a girl.’

Connie stared at the tiny little face covered in soot. ‘What do we do now?’

‘We run like bloody rabbits, that’s what we do,’ he told her just as the siren went off again. ‘Me gran’s house is round the corner in East Ferry Road.’ He
gripped the baby against his chest and reached for Connie. ‘Come on, they’ll be over in a moment.’

Connie’s throat felt sore as they ran. The dust and smoke poured into her open mouth. By the time they reached East Ferry Road she was panting and coughing, trying to spit out the dirt. In
the distance there was the deadly drone of the bombers and the soft crump-crump of the bombs.

He pulled her towards a line of tall terraced buildings and they leaped up the steps of one of them. ‘Gran, it’s me!’ he yelled as they entered the passage of the dark old
house.

No one answered.

They stood there, breathing noisily. ‘Wouldn’t she be in your Anderson?’ Connie spluttered.

‘No, they couldn’t put one in the yard ’cos of the gas pipes so close. She’ll be over at me sister’s house in Manchester Road. Pat wouldn’t rest if Gran was
here on her own.’

‘Where shall we shelter then?’ Connie gulped.

‘Follow me.’ Once more Connie was dragged along. She couldn’t see anything, it was pitch black. ‘This is the understairs cupboard. I’ll put me torch on when
we’re inside.’ Connie was bundled into another dark space. It smelled very old and musty. ‘Hold the baby, I’ll close the door.’ She heard a soft bang. ‘There,
how’s that?’ The torch light went on. All she could see was cobwebs hanging from rafters.

She nodded. ‘Better, thanks.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, it’s the baby I’m worried about.’

He shone the beam in the infant’s face.

‘Do you think he’s hurt?’ she asked worriedly.

‘There’s nothing wrong with his lungs,’ he chuckled as an almighty yell burst from a very small mouth.

‘Is that a good sign or bad?’

‘If he’s anything like my little niece, Doris, he’ll shut up as soon as milk’s poured down his gob.’

‘You mean he’s just hungry?’

‘Gran keeps Doris’s bottle in the larder as she looks after the kid while Pat’s at work. While I’m gone, make yourself comfortable in the armchair.’

He held her arm and Connie sank down. ‘Will you be long?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I don’t even know where I am or who you are. Though it’s funny but I seem to
recognize your voice.’

‘And I recognize you, Connie Marsh.’ He took off his tin helmet and brushed back his thick, dark hair. ‘Remember me? Vic Champion, from British Street School.’ He
laughed, just as a tremendous bang rattled the whole house. Connie was too terrified to move as she hugged the baby against her. As more explosions followed she felt a pair of arms go around them.
She snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes, the baby squashed between them.