Eve of the Isle (8 page)

‘Serve her right if she never walks again,' remarked an elderly lady wearing an apron. ‘Mind, she weren't one for walking, not in a straight line, anyway.'

Eve pushed her way through to where Peg was standing over Joan who was lying on her back.

‘What happened?'

‘The first thing I heard,' said Peg, ‘was the two boys calling out. They found Joan, collapsed out here.'

‘Oh, me back.' Joan lifted her head as she stared at the crowd. ‘What are you lot gawping at?'

‘Is there anything I can do?' P.C. Merritt's voice made everyone jump and quickly the neighbours disappeared.

‘Looks like you've done it,' Peg scowled. ‘You might as well have shouted the black plague, the way that lot buggered off when they saw you.'

Ignoring the insult, the young man went down on his haunches. ‘Are you hurt? Can you move?'

‘Haven't tried.' Joan looked vague. ‘What's going on?'

‘You ain't with it, gel,' said Peg loudly. ‘You fell arse over tit, Joan. Don't you remember?'

P.C. Merritt smiled uncertainly at the twins. ‘Do you know what happened, lads?'

‘We found her on the stairs,' said Samuel in a rush, ‘just as we was going along to the lav.'

They all peered into Joan's glassy eyes and were assaulted with a strong whiff of gin.

‘Well, one thing's for sure, if she's broken anything at all, she can't feel it. Not yet anyway, not until the old thick and thin wears off,' Peg remarked as the policeman took Joan's arm.

‘Shall I fetch the doctor?' P.C. Merritt enquired as he slowly lowered Joan to the bed.

‘No.' Eve pulled across the covers. ‘She'll be all right.'

‘A good kip will do the trick,' agreed the constable. ‘From my observations, anyway.'

‘You mind your own flaming business, copper!' Joan
tried to raise herself from the bed, but relapsed with a groan.

‘Lay still, Joan. You're lucky the policeman was here to help you in.' Eve steered P.C. Merritt to the door. ‘Thank you for helping.'

‘All in the line of duty.'

‘Your duty seems to cover a lot of things. Are you new to the job?'

He went red under his helmet. ‘Yes, does it show?'

‘Only a bit.'

He grinned. ‘I hope to be back with some news on your cottage.'

Eve watched him leave then hurried back to the bedroom. The twins were all eyes, watching a prostrate Joan as Peg held up an empty bottle. ‘Didn't know you was on the jollop, gel.'

‘I'm not. That bottle's been in the cupboard years.'

‘And I'm the pope,' laughed Peg.

‘Get your face out of me private things, you nosy cow,' screamed Joan, flinging back the bedclothes and giving a wail of agony.

‘Oh, stop moaning,' said Peg unsympathetically, throwing them back. ‘The truth is you're just coming to after all the booze. You fell and hurt your back, which ain't a life-threatening condition at all. Mind, it might have been if you'd gone over the railings.'

Joan whimpered pitifully. ‘Ain't you got no sympathy at all?'

‘As much sympathy as you had when we turned up on your doorstep last night,' retaliated Peg.

‘Oh, get out the lot of you. I don't want you in me place. Bugger off to somewhere else.'

Eve grasped Peg's arm. ‘Come on, let's do as she says. I'm tired of feeling unwanted. We'll go back to the Sally Army, find that young Clara again and ask her to help us.'

As they all began to file from the room, Joan called out, ‘Wait!'

Eve returned to the bed. ‘What do you want, Joan?'

‘I'm in pain. I need a wee and can't move.'

Eve turned to Peg and the boys. ‘Wait for me by the front door. I'll help her on the po before we leave.'

As Eve helped Joan out of bed, the grunting and groaning was excessive. After sliding down Joan's drawers and supporting her on the po, Eve got her back into bed.

‘You'll have to ask Harold to help you tonight.'

Joan closed her eyes and sobbed. ‘He'll chew me off something rotten.'

‘Why? Doesn't he know you enjoy a tipple?'

‘He's dead against it,' Joan lifted a shaky hand to wipe away a tear.

‘Well, that's your problem, Joan.'

‘You could tell him it was just a trip.'

‘But we won't be here.'

Joan sniffed and gulped at the same time. ‘You can stay a bit longer if you like.'

‘I don't know about that now. I'd rather my boys be put up at the Sally Army than stay here where we're not wanted.'

‘It ain't them I don't want, it's
her
.'

‘How can you say that about your own sister?'

‘You don't know the past,' Joan whimpered. ‘Oh, me back!'

Eve pushed one of the pillows under her hip. ‘Is that easier?'

‘Yes, a bit.' Joan looked up under her puffy lids. ‘Just keep her out of me way, that's all.'

Eve was greatly relieved but wasn't going to show it. Clara Wilkins was kind, but only a young girl without much authority. Eve didn't fancy sleeping on the street in some doorway just because her pride wouldn't let her stay under Joan's roof.

‘And remember, I don't want Harold knowing,' Joan mumbled looking slyly up. ‘Get rid of that.'

Eve glanced at the empty bottle that Peg had left on the cupboard. ‘All right.'

‘What about
her
, old loose lips?'

Eve sighed. ‘Look, Joan, I don't know what's gone on in the past, that's yours and Peg's business. But she's your sister and your blood. She's not going to say anything to drop you in it.'

For the first time, Joan hesitated. Then after a while she shrugged. ‘You can help yourself to a bit of food, I suppose. Harold will want his meal at half past six, and don't forget, keep that so-called sister of mine
away from the room as she does me head in.'

Eve didn't respond but left the room quickly before Joan changed her mind.

That evening, Harold returned to a meal of cold beef, cabbage and mashed potatoes followed by oven-browned rice pudding. Eve had taken care to feed them all before he arrived home. She had managed a miracle and eked out enough without making the larder look empty, intending to replace the food as soon as she could. She didn't want Joan's charity or to be obliged any more than she already was. She would repay the debt as there was two pounds in coins in one of her bottles at home. It was kept aside for an emergency but in the rush to leave she had forgotten to bring it with her.

‘Very nice, my dear, you're an excellent cook,' said Harold after he had eaten. His small, alert eyes were watching her as she washed up at the sink. Standing close to her, he placed his plate on the draining board. ‘My wife could take a tip or two from you. I'm relieved she saw the sense in having you here. At least whilst she's incapacitated.'

Eve kept her concentration on the dirty dishes, scrubbing them thoroughly. She could hear Peg and the boys in the other room but Harold's manner made her feel uneasy. The smell of his hair and moustache dressing made her wince.

‘You say she fell on the steps outside?' Harold asked again.

‘Yes. As I told you, the policeman helped us to bring her in.'

‘I hope we shan't be seeing too much of the law,' Harold mumbled. ‘It doesn't do round here to have them knocking at your front door. People get the wrong idea.'

Eve had explained all about the dead man and having to identify a corpse but Harold wasn't bothered about the fact that it might have been her husband.

He pressed against her. ‘A young woman like you should have a real man to look after her.'

Eve turned slowly. ‘My Raj was a real man.'

‘Of course.' He put his hand on her waist. ‘But you must get lonely on your own.'

Eve froze. ‘I don't have time to get lonely. I've got a family to provide for.'

‘All work and no play, you know the old saying.' His grasp tightened as he tried to pull her towards him.

‘Don't!'

‘Come now, my dear. I'm being reasonable in allowing you to stay here.'

Eve felt like slapping his face, but instead said sharply, ‘You'd better go to your wife. She's the one who's lonely.'

He looked annoyed. ‘So that's the thanks I get for doing a good deed.'

Eve's cheeks were hot with anger. Harold was a dirty old man and she would like to tell him so. The only
reason he let them stay was in his own interest and they both knew it.

He wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. ‘We'll resume this conversation later when you're in a more – friendly mood.'

Eve was about to say that he would have a long wait, when Joan's voice echoed along the passage.

‘Your wife is calling.'

He lifted his chin and fussily tightened his tie. Tugging irritably at the bottom of his jacket, he left the room.

Eve gripped the edge of the draining board and closed her eyes. The smell of him was still in the air and made her feel sick.

‘Mum, you going to come in and play with us?' She swung round. Samuel was standing at the door. ‘We found a box of dominoes in the cupboard.'

‘Yes, love.' She gave him a big smile.

‘What was Uncle Harold doing?'

Eve's heart raced. ‘Nothing, why?'

‘He had his arm round you.'

‘He was just being friendly, that's all. Now, come on, let's go and play.'

Eve took his hand and they went into the other room. Samuel was too young to guess what had been going on. But she would have to be careful in future. Her sons were growing up fast.

The next morning, Eve listened at the door until Harold left for work. When she heard the front door close, she
waited ten minutes before going to the kitchen. He'd left his shaving soap and brush on the windowsill beside the comb that was glistening with grease. Eve felt her stomach heave. Then quickly looking away, she made a mug of tea and bowl of porridge for Joan.

‘What time do you call this?' groaned Joan when Eve woke her. ‘Go away.'

‘I've brought you breakfast. Something to start the day on.'

Joan sat up grumpily. ‘Did you see Harold?'

‘No.' Eve placed the tray in front of her.

‘You didn't tell him anything?'

‘Only that you had a fall.' Eve nodded to the breakfast. ‘When you've finished, I'll help you on the po.'

‘I'll need a bucket after this lot.' Joan indicated the steaming bowl of porridge. ‘I just have a fag, usually, out on the balcony. Harold don't approve of me smoking. I dunno where I put me fags either. You'll have to get me some when you do me shopping.'

Eve realized that Joan was going to make use of her whilst they stayed. But she didn't mind. Just as long as she didn't bump into Harold.

Joan tasted the porridge. ‘Not bad. And that plate of cold beef and potato you gave me last night was all right. Where did you learn to cook like this?'

‘My husband was a cook on board ship.'

Joan put down the spoon. ‘Was it him yesterday?' She didn't seem a bit interested.

‘No.'

‘Not a bad cup of tea either.' She drained the cup then took a hand mirror from the bedside table. ‘I look a bleeding wreck.'

‘I'll help you to wash and brush up if you like.'

‘Don't like water on me face. You can bring over me make-up though. It's in a bag in the drawer there.'

Eve found the bag and handed it to Joan, then helped her to the po. When she was finished, she took the pot to the lavatory and emptied it. No one was about but the toilet stank as usual.

When she returned, Joan was fully made-up. Her eyes still looked puffy but were alert and her lips painted a bright red.

‘I'll have another cup of tea. And when you come back I want you to do me hair. Then I'll tell you what chores need to be done. Oh, and I know you'll be feeding your hungry gannets at my expense. So don't try to pull the wool over my eyes as I know exactly what I've got in me cupboard. I'll want every penny back.'

‘You needn't worry about that.'

‘Oh, but I do.' Joan glanced up suspiciously.

Eve was furious, but managed not to show it. Until she discovered how soon they could go home, she would have to hold the candle to the devil, that being the devoted couple, Joan and Harold Slygo.

Eve had finished all the jobs and was cooking the boys their tea when a knock came at the front door.

P.C. Merritt was dressed in a light grey overcoat, grey flannels and a loose striped scarf. He had combed his thick, dark brown hair neatly to one side making a perfect parting across his well-shaped head. Without his helmet he looked almost human, thought Eve.

‘You're not on duty, then? Or are you doing a stint in plain clothes.'

‘No, this is me day off. And I've some news for you, Mrs Kumar.'

She took a deep breath. Was this the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel? ‘You'd better come in.'

Samuel and Albert came running up.

‘Hello lads.'

The twins gazed at him curiously. ‘You ain't got your uniform on.'

‘Not today. It had to go to a meeting with all the other uniforms. Get its buttons shined up all sparkly.'

The boys laughed and he winked at them.

Eve led the way down to the kitchen where Peg was stirring the saucepan of steaming potatoes.

‘So you turned up, after all.' Peg took the cigarette from her mouth and balanced it on a saucer. She narrowed her eyes at the young man. ‘So what's the news then?'

The policeman straightened his back. ‘The water's gone down but it's left a lot of waste behind.'

‘We expected that,' nodded Eve, excited at the prospect of going home. She couldn't wait to leave Bambury Buildings and Harold's fat, grasping hands and
stomach-turning smell. Even if the cottage was a bit damp and dirty it didn't matter. It was home.