Eve of the Isle (36 page)

‘Died?' Charlie repeated in astonishment.

‘Yeah, poor bugger. Fried alive he was. Must've been an 'orrible death.'

Charlie had heard nothing of this nor read anything in the papers and he said as much to Ted.

‘This is Shadwell, chum,' Ted replied dourly. ‘It's all foreigners round 'ere, ain't it? The coppers don't want to waste their time on investigatin'. And the landlord didn't 'ave no family. This place has been runnin' on a wing and a prayer for the last few years. But me wife and meself, well, we reckon we can do somethin' with it. We was south of the river before in Deptford, as rough as wot this is, and we turned our gaff into a nice little earner.' He pushed the two drinks towards Charlie. ‘Anyway, enjoy yer tipples, friend, and I 'ope you'll both come again as you're the sort of customer me and the missus is lookin' for.' He took his cloth and walked over to serve another customer.

‘What was all that about?' asked Robbie, who had, until now, been silent.

‘You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'

‘Wouldn't I?' Robbie pushed his empty glass forward. ‘I'm all ears.'

Charlie hesitated but finally called Elsie who quickly refilled the tumbler. Charlie paid her, then rather uncertainly began to tell the tale of the
Tarkay
and Eve's visit to the Drunken Sailor to look for Singh.

By the time he had finished, his friend was looking surprised. ‘You're telling me the girl you were with last night is the flower-seller you took to the morgue?'

Charlie didn't much care for Robbie's tone. ‘Eve Kumar, yes.'

‘And she tried to look for this Singh fellow and then was attacked and nearly drowned? Sounds rather farfetched to me.'

‘I told you it was hard to believe.'

Robbie slung the last of his whisky to the back of his throat. ‘I believe you, of course, but if she's cooled off about the whole thing, aren't you wasting your time?'

‘Perhaps.'

‘And, anyway, you are making assumptions.'

‘Two sailors from the
Star of Bengal
have died in mysterious circumstances. Singh is the connection to the Drunken Sailor. Now the landlord is dead.'

Robbie shook his head with a wry smile. ‘Charlie, you're turning into quite the little detective.'

‘The
Tarkay
returns after Christmas,' Charlie said in a low voice. ‘Singh could be on it.'

At this, Robbie chuckled. ‘Old man, why don't you
just settle for a little fun in life? I'm sure you could have any amount with your flower-seller.'

Charlie felt insulted. He was seeing Robbie in a very different light these days and he wished he hadn't confided in him.

Robbie swayed on the stool as he looked into Charlie's eyes. ‘If I was you, I'd have another crack at Bunty. Her family is very well heeled. I understand they have a great old pile in Scotland somewhere.'

‘Well, thank God I'm not you, Robbie.' Charlie stood up.

‘Oh, come on, Charlie boy, stop being such a prig.'

‘Robbie, I think you've had enough to drink.'

Robbie threw back his head, laughing. ‘Let's have one more for the road!'

Charlie looked round at the watching faces. ‘Come on, Robbie,' he said quietly, ‘remember you're a copper.'

His friend gave a snort. ‘Sorry, old man, but that is a bit of a joke.'

‘What do you mean?' Again Charlie was puzzled.

‘I could tell you a thing or two about coppers. There are some rotten apples in the barrel and—'

‘Robbie, shut up.' Charlie gripped his friend's arm and almost dragged him out. Outside in the fresh air, Charlie took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in his knee as he pushed Robbie into the passenger seat.

‘What the hell—' Robbie began as Charlie clumsily climbed in and started the car.

‘You're in no fit state to drive, Robbie.'

‘I'm actually still on a roll from last night.'

‘No wonder you were talking drivel.'

Charlie watched Robbie's face darken. He stared morosely out of the window as they drove back to the bakery. It wasn't an easy drive as his knee was throbbing and each time he changed gear and depressed the pedal, a knife went into his muscle.

But he still felt a certain responsibility for his friend. He would take him to the bakery and feed him some decent food. After which he could sleep his hangover off on the couch.

As Charlie drove he couldn't help thinking that it was Johnny Puxley who had a hand in all this changed behaviour. He had generated a cynicism in Robbie that hadn't been there a few years back. And it had finally led to a rift between himself and Robbie. It was only the football that still held them together. And unlike Robbie, Charlie continued to believe in the British justice system, no matter if there were a few rotten apples in the barrel, as Robbie had been so keen to enlighten him.

But what concerned Charlie most was his discovery today of the death of the landlord. It struck him that a fire could be a way of silencing someone who knew too much.

Just as someone had tried to silence Eve.

When business for the day was over, Eve was in time to meet the boys from school. She was surprised when
Sister Mary came to the gate and singled her out from the waiting parents. ‘Sister Superior would like to speak to you,' she said sternly.

Aware of the looks cast at her as she followed the nun, Eve became apprehensive. The feeling deepened as she entered the refectory, a long, austere room used by the Sisters as a common room for staff and parent meetings. Eve found herself standing in front of Sister Superior and Father Flynn.

‘Your sons, Mrs Kumar, have today disgraced themselves,' said Sister Superior coldly. ‘Father Flynn has sent them to chapel to pray for their sins.'

‘But what did they do?' Eve demanded, unable to believe such a thing.

‘They attacked another boy—' broke in Sister Mary, only to be silenced by the raised hand of Sister Superior.

‘We cannot tolerate violence at St Saviour's,' she said eyeing the priest. ‘Repetition of prayer will concentrate their minds. Don't you agree, Father?'

‘Oh, yes, indeed. Indeed.' Father Flynn knitted his fingers over his portly stomach, his port wine nose flaring.

‘Violence?' repeated Eve, staring from one to the other of them. ‘My boys aren't bullies.'

‘I'm afraid you're wrong,' replied the nun. ‘They set upon a child, bruising his face. They are fortunate only to have incurred a spiritual punishment rather than a physical one.'

‘They don't deserve to be punished at all.'

‘Mrs Kumar, surely you can see that they do? Don't you want something better for your sons than growing up to be street brawlers?'

Eve couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did the nun mean that she would cane them? But it was never Albert or Samuel who attacked anyone. It had always been the other way round. And since the time of the truancy they had been to confession regularly and observed all the school's strict rules.

Eve braced her shoulders. ‘I want to hear what Samuel and Albert have to say.'

Sister Superior straightened her back in silent refusal. ‘They are saying their penance.'

Eve refused to be browbeaten, she knew the nun didn't like her and she spoke up immediately. ‘They can say their penance later – if it's deserved. Now, shall I make my own way down to the chapel?' She stepped towards the door. But the tall, thin woman was there before her, peering angrily from the folds of her white wimple.

Eve's heart was pounding as she followed the swish of the black hem down the highly polished corridor. What could the twins possibly have done to deserve this? They were not violent children. If they had been in a fight it was because they were defending themselves.

At the chapel, Sister Superior took out a large key and turned it in the big black lock. With alarm, Eve realized that this was why she hadn't wanted her to come on her own.

‘Do you always lock it when children are in there?' Eve asked.

Sister Superior ignored her and walked in. ‘Samuel and Albert, your mother is here.'

Eve shivered in the freezing cold chapel. Two little figures knelt in front of the altar. They stood up, lost under the high vaulted ceilings. She could see Albert was holding back the tears. Samuel's black hair had fallen over his eyes.

‘Please hurry and come here,' shouted Sister Superior, ‘as Father Flynn is very busy today. He has to say Mass at half past six.'

‘I'd like to be on my own with them,' Eve said.

‘Mrs Kumar—' the nun began but Eve wouldn't be moved.

‘The sooner I hear their side of the story the sooner Father will be free to say Mass.'

Sister Superior glared at her, but left eventually, closing the heavy door after her. Immediately the boys ran into Eve's arms. Albert burst into tears. Samuel's chin wobbled.

‘Now, don't cry, or you won't be able to tell me what happened,' she said, sitting them down in a pew. ‘Sister Superior said you attacked another boy.'

They looked down.

Eve was shocked. ‘So you hit him?'

Samuel nodded as he fingered the graze on his cheek. ‘Him and his mates was saying bad things. And Charlie said we had to stand up to them or else they'd do it again.'

‘What did they say?'

‘It was things about Dad. We know they ain't true.'

‘Like what?' Eve pressed.

Samuel sniffed. ‘They said he was a black devil and went to hell.'

Eve looked into their little faces. What right had these ignorant boys to say such things? It was disgraceful. How was she to protect them from such a painful experience?

‘You know that's a very bad thing to say?'

They nodded.

‘Those boys are ignorant. They don't know any better. But you do and I'm proud of you both.'

Samuel wiped his nose with his cuff. A tear slipped down Albert's cheek. Eve hugged them to her. They had been brave and stood up for their dad. She took their hands. ‘Now, I want you to wait here whilst I talk to Sister Superior.'

‘Do we have to pray?'

‘No, it's those boys that need to pray, not you.'

Eve strode out to the refectory. Her cheeks were red with anger.

‘Did they own up?' Sister Superior demanded as she walked in.

‘Do you know why Samuel and Albert hit that boy?' Eve asked.

‘There is no excuse for what they did.'

Eve's eyes flashed. ‘It was because they had things said to them about their father. Things that I don't want
to repeat as they are so bad and should never be said to anyone whatever religion or colour they are. It was only natural for Samuel and Albert to retaliate.'

‘Please keep your voice down.' Sister Superior didn't want anyone outside to hear.

But Eve ignored her. ‘Why should my sons be punished when it was those other boys? It's you, Sister Superior, who is responsible for what happened today. You've failed to teach the children to love each other. It's you who should be praying for forgiveness, not my boys.'

Eve knew her temper had got the better of her but there was no answer from the nun. Eve turned and walked out.

Taking a deep breath as she walked along the cold, shiny corridor she wondered what more those boys had said. No matter what the Sister Superior said, Samuel and Albert had done what Charlie had told them to do and she was proud of them.

‘Mum! Mum!' They flung themselves at her.

‘Come on, let's go home.'

‘We didn't do nothin' wrong.'

‘I know that.'

‘Do we have to confess it tomorrow?'

‘No, you can have a lie-in instead.'

They jumped up and down. ‘Can we go down to the park and play?'

Eve nodded. Why had the nuns blamed her boys for
what had happened? Was it because Samuel and Albert's father was a lascar? Or was it because their mother was a flower-seller? Perhaps it was both.

Chapter Twenty-One

D
uring the weeks that followed an icy tension almost as bitter as the weather settled between Eve and Sister Superior. The nuns were at their busiest time of the year with the preparation of school nativity plays, end of term reports and a stream of services in the chapel which the children and parents were required to attend. Since the confrontation with Sister Superior, Sister Mary and Father Flynn, there had been no further communication but each time Eve stood at the gate to wait for the boys or went into St Saviour's and sat in a pew, Sister Superior's glances were not ones of warmth. Eve knew she had challenged the establishment. The one good thing to come out of it was that the twins had not suffered any more bad treatment from the bullies of the school. Eve asked Samuel and Albert frequently if they were set upon or called names, or treated with disrespect, but as much to her delight as Samuel and Albert's surprise, it seemed the teachers had been more vigilant than they had been before.

Despite this vigilance, neither Samuel nor Albert was
chosen for shepherds, wise men or Joseph for the nativity play, although in Eve's opinion their appearance was much more suited to those characters than the blond angelic-looking boys that were cast. On a cold Wednesday afternoon, the last before Christmas, Eve left her pitch early to attend the class version of the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. She had enjoyed the hour-long production, but had only caught a brief glance of her sons as they filed to the back of the stage to sing the selection of carols. When the festivities were over and it was time to go, she passed Sister Superior in the aisle. Eve stopped.

‘Happy Christmas, Sister Superior.'

A brief nod was followed by a tight-lipped, ‘And a holy one to you, Mrs Kumar.'

Eve didn't lower her gaze as the thin faced woman looked into her eyes. It wasn't the time, Eve knew, for resentment, so she smiled. This was received with an embarrassed twitch, which Eve took to be a favourable response.