Cockney Orphan (4 page)

Connie nodded, trying to glance over her neighbour’s broad shoulder down the length of the street.

‘What is it, boy or girl?’

‘A boy.’

‘What’s his name?’

Connie hesitated. She hadn’t thought about his name, which posed somewhat of a problem. She couldn’t just refer to him as the baby all the time. ‘I don’t know, Nan. His
home was bombed and he survived, but he was the only one in the house that did.’

‘Poor little beggar.’ Nan cooed at the baby, her big lips pursed together under her paisley headscarf. ‘Number fifty-six along the road copped a direct hit,’ she told
Connie rapidly. ‘Luckily the Coles weren’t there, but staying with their relatives in Wales. Now, I saw yer Dad mending your door this morning, or at least attempting to. Tell him to
give Lofty a shout if he wants any help. Ebbie ain’t exactly nimble with his fingers, is he?’

Connie was so relieved to hear her parents were safe that she ignored Nan’s tactless comments and hurried on. The Coles’ house was a terrible sight with its blackened rafters still
smouldering and the debris spilling on to the pavement. But Mrs Spinks from next door waved from the upstairs window and seemed none the worse for wear.

‘Connie!’ yelled her dad, dropping his hammer on the floor with a clatter when he saw her. ‘Thank God you’re safe, love!’

She melted into his open arms. He hugged her, squashing the baby between them.

They were both tearful and Connie swallowed. ‘Oh, Dad, what a night! I’m so pleased to see you.’

‘Where have you been? You wasn’t in the Anderson when your mother got back from the shelter this morning. She thought you and Billy would be waiting for her.’

‘It’s a long story, Dad.’ She hoped that Billy would turn up quickly this morning and put everyone’s mind at rest.

Her dad lowered his bright blue eyes to the bundle she was carrying. ‘What, or rather who, is this?’

Connie placed the baby gently in her father’s arms. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we go inside.’

Ebbie Marsh gazed down at the child in his arms. Connie watched in silence as her father bent his head, displaying a thick cluster of straw-coloured hair identical in colouring to her own.
‘My, my, there’s a big smile to brighten my day.’ He looked up at his daughter. ‘Your mother is going to be relieved to see you walk in that door, Con.’ He laughed at
his own joke. ‘Well, walk over it anyway.’

As Connie went in Olive Marsh raced out of the kitchen. ‘Constance! Where on earth have you been? I was so worried!’ As usual, her appearance was immaculate, Connie noted as she
embraced her mother, hugging the slim, slightly stiff shoulders covered in a smart green blouse. Not a hair was out of place, the glossy brown pleat at the back of her head secured by an army of
pins. ‘I would never have asked you to look for your brother if I’d known what was ahead of us.’

‘He’ll be home soon,’ Connie replied and, before her mother could ask more, she nodded to the bundle in her father’s arms. ‘Look what I found.’

‘A baby? You
found
a baby?’

‘Yes, a little boy.’

‘When? Where?’

‘Last night, as I was . . . er . . . looking for Billy,’ she fibbed. ‘Some houses had been hit in Haverick Street. I found this poor girl in the ruins, but she was trapped and
before I could help her, she died.’

Olive gasped. Her father frowned. ‘And this baby survived?’

Connie nodded. ‘Goodness knows how. He was shut in a coal scuttle under a table. A warden came along and helped to dig him out. Well, he’s only a temporary warden, a boy I knew at
school called Vic Champion. Luckily his gran lives just round the corner and we had to run with the baby and take shelter there. This morning Vic’s gran and his sister Pat gave me
breakfast,’ she ended breathlessly.

‘Vic Champion?’ her father repeated. ‘I remember him! He stood out, that lad did. Smashing little footballer. Faster than all the rest of the lads put together. He could
dribble a ball like no one’s business.’

‘Yes, yes,’ nodded his wife impatiently, ‘but what happened to your brother, Constance?’

‘You know our Billy, Mum.’ Connie shrugged lightly. ‘He was off with some pal when the warning went.’

‘I’ll bet it was with that Joey Donelly!’ her mother exclaimed. ‘Messing about on the river again. One day he’ll fall in, I know he will. I’ve forbidden him
to go near those barges yet he still does exactly as he likes. Ebbie, you’re going to have to put your foot down with your son, and that’s a fact.’

‘Calm down now, love,’ her husband soothed. ‘It was pandemonium yesterday. None of us knew what we was doing, especially as you insisted on going to the public shelter when
I’d set up the Anderson especially.’

‘That contraption is a death trap,’ Olive Marsh pronounced shortly. ‘How you can stand there and advise your family to use it, I really don’t know.’

‘Is there a cup of tea going?’ Connie broke in as she took the baby from her father. He gave her a wink.

‘Of course.’ Her mother nodded. ‘Go in the front room and sit yourself down. Dad’s made a fire and lit the paraffin stove. There’s a kettle on top of it, heating
slowly, but it should be boiled soon. We’ve no gas and the water’s turned off, but I remembered to fill the kettle and two saucepans before I left yesterday.’ She frowned at the
baby. ‘Does that poor child need feeding?’

Connie nodded. ‘I expect so. Vic’s sister, Pat, has a little girl called Doris and Pat gave me her bottle to use and some clothes to borrow. They’re all in this shopping
basket.’

‘In that case, we’d better get cracking,’ Olive decided, taking Gran’s basket and hurrying off to the kitchen.

‘What are you going to do with the boy?’ Ebbie asked as he accompanied his daughter into the front room.

‘I don’t really know, Dad.’ Connie sank into the big fireside chair and was immediately enveloped by warmth. As one who was used to her full eight hours sleep, she was feeling
the lack of it now. ‘I’ll have to ask Mum.’

‘Did you see what happened to the Coles’ house?’ her father asked as he sat on the couch and rolled a cigarette. ‘Lucky they were away.’

Connie nodded sadly. ‘There was a whole street sealed off as I walked home.’

‘Saint Cuthbert’s took one, you know.’

‘Oh dear. Whatever will the congregation do now?’

‘It’s anyone’s guess.’ He paused. ‘Nan Barnes told your mother the Islanders was bombed too. I shan’t be going down there for a quick one at the weekend, will
I? And Surrey Docks was alight from end to end. The coast and the city took the brunt of the bombing this summer, but nothing like the inferno of the docks tonight.’ He inhaled deeply,
lifting his head to blow out a slow stream of smoke. ‘Looks like we’re in for a repeat performance tonight.’

‘P’raps it won’t be as bad,’ Connie said optimistically.

Her father shook his head woefully. ‘You’d have thought the devils would have caught their breath after nabbing Poland, then invading France and her neighbours. But oh no, they
annihilated us at Dunkirk, then gave our RAF lads hell in the air over Britain. Now we’re told to expect them on the beaches, or sailing up the river!’

‘We’d never let them land, Dad!’ Connie stared at her father, who looked very tired. Even his sprinkling of chocolate freckles did little to lift his fair, slightly grey
skin.

‘No, we’d give them a run for their money, all right.’

Connie felt a shiver of dismay. Was there really a chance that Britain would be invaded? There were always threats and rumours abounding, but so many had been circulating since the beginning of
war twelve months ago that the fear of invasion had receded. Now last night’s activity had changed the picture again.

‘Did you have a bad night, Dad?’

He nodded. ‘Couldn’t keep up with the fires. Those incendiaries were everywhere. The Luftwaffe just followed their path, dropping bombs all over the place, and the balloons never
seemed to make a difference.’

Olive walked in and lowered a tray on to the table. ‘Drink up whilst it’s hot, you two, we can’t afford to waste tea, no matter how weak it is.’

Ebbie held out his arms. ‘Give him to me, Connie. I’ll hold whilst you pour, love.’

‘Don’t you go getting broody now,’ his wife warned him sternly. ‘You’re a pushover when it comes to kids. You’d have another one tomorrow if it was humanly
possible.’

‘Yeah, well thank the Lord it’s not,’ he muttered as the baby brought up a loud burp, his bald head wobbling on his shoulders. ‘That’s it, kiddo, better up than
down. Wish I could do the same, but I’d get a right chewing off if I did.’

‘Manners maketh man,’ Olive agreed swiftly. ‘Start as you mean to go on, that’s what my moth—’ Her mouth fell open as she stared at the door. ‘Billy! Oh
my God, look at the state of you!’

Connie turned to see her brother framed in the doorway. His jacket and trousers were unrecognizable under the stains of what looked like oil and grease. His boots and socks were caked in mud,
but he had a smile on his face that was dazzling.

‘Mrs Spinks said I could borrow this.’ Billy lifted a bucket, talking as if he was carrying on a conversation from five minutes ago. ‘She was up by the standpipe and said she
thought I needed a wash more than she did.’

‘Too right you do, son.’ Ebbie nodded, wrinkling his nose at the smell drifting into the room.

‘You’re filthy,’ Olive wailed. ‘Oh, Billy, you’ve been on them barges, I knew it!’

Connie leaped up from her comfortable seat. ‘Don’t say a word,’ she whispered as she grabbed the bucket from his hand. ‘I’ll get him scrubbed up, Mum,’ she
called brightly. ‘Keep the tea warm for us.’

Pulling Billy with her, Connie hurried to the downstairs bathroom. She blessed the day three years ago, when the council had seen fit to install one in the house. It was nothing fancy, but the
large white bath and basin were accompanied by a real flushing system, not like the smelly old toilet they’d used for years in the backyard. The rabbit-sized rats that it attracted had
overwhelmed the district and after an outbreak of several unpleasant diseases all the property maintained by the council had been converted. The bathroom was unheated, freezing in winter, and the
iron window frames were already rusting. But it was the one room in the house that afforded a degree of privacy. Connie slid the bolt on the door as Billy began to peel off his clothes.

‘You gonna scrub me back, then?’ Billy laughed as she tipped the cold water in the basin

‘I just wanted to tell you what I said to Mum about last night,’ Connie replied crossly as she gathered the filthy garments.

‘What was that then?’ Billy sank his head into the water, splashing it noisily over himself.

‘I said you went off with a mate. She thinks you’ve been down the river on the barges with Joey Donelly. So I should keep to that story if I were you.’

‘Thanks, sis.’ Billy rubbed the bar of Puritan soap vigorously over his stick-like arms and skinny chest.

‘So what happened, then?’ Connie demanded, annoyed at his apparent indifference.

‘When?’

‘When do you think? When you ran off and left me.’

‘Con, I had to get rid of that motor.’

‘For your information I found a girl under all that rubble.’

He stopped drying himself on the thin towel and stared at her. ‘You mean there
was
someone there?’

‘She was . . .’ Connie felt tears rush to her eyes. ‘I couldn’t help her. It was too late . . .’

‘Oh, Con,’ Billy murmured, putting his wet arm around her. ‘I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have buggered off if I’d known that.’

Connie shook him off. She sniffed back the tears. ‘Well, excuse me, Billy Marsh, but I find that hard to believe. Thanks to you, her baby could have been overlooked. If it hadn’t
been for a friend of mine helping me to search, he’d probably be dead by now too.’

‘You mean little Baldy sitting on Dad’s lap? I wondered where it turned up from.’ Billy stood shivering in his underpants. ‘So who’s this friend of yours
then?’

‘Just a friend, that’s all. Now, what happened to the car?’

‘I ditched it.’

‘But you can’t drive.’

‘That was the least of me worries. There was no one around so I let off the hand brake and pushed it to the first bit of high water I found. What happened next was the iffy part. Jerry
suddenly appeared and the wharf went up like a powder keg. I was blown in the water, right on top of the car. Honest, Con, it was like a bog, all oil and burning wood, and it stank of petrol.
That’s what you can smell on me clothes. Somehow I got myself out.’

‘Billy, you could have drowned.’

‘I know. I don’t mind admitting it was a close call. But I’m a lucky so and so, Con, you’ve said it yourself.’

She shook her head despairingly. ‘You’ll need all the luck going if Mum ever finds out.’

‘Well, she won’t, will she?’

Connie put her hands on her hips. ‘That depends on whether or not you behave yourself.’

‘Connie, I swear I’m not getting in no more trouble. Scout’s honour an’ all that.’

‘You wouldn’t know a scout if you saw one.’

His teeth chattered under his grin. ‘I’m bloody freezing, gel. Is the lecture over?’

‘Get upstairs and dress yourself. I’ll sort out your dirty clothes. And remember what I told Mum and Dad. You’ll have to fill in from there.’

‘You’re a smasher.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll bet that friend of yours thinks so too, don’t he?’

Before Connie could reply, he shot out of the door.

By the time she returned to the front room, Kevin was home. A fresh pot was brewed and thick slices of bread and dripping prepared. The family sat round the fire in the front room, with the
baby, this time, on Kevin’s knee.

‘He’s a little cracker.’ Kevin’s broad-featured face broke into a smile as he bounced the baby up and down. ‘What’s his name?’

‘We don’t know,’ Connie said, refilling the mugs.

‘What about Baldy?’ Billy laughed.

‘Lucky,’ her dad suggested, puffing hard on his cigarette. ‘After what you told us about how he was found.’

‘Lucky’s not a proper name,’ Olive commented. ‘His relatives would have something to say about that.’