The Londoners (42 page)

Having relieved himself of the duty of a visitor by imparting up-to-the-minute gossip, Billy turned his attention to the present he had brought for the baby. ‘It’s
liquorice-water,’ he said, referring to the grubby bottle he had placed on Kate’s dressing-table. ‘Me an’ Beryl made it ourselves. There’s two sticks of liquorice in
it an’ it ’ain’t ’alf strong.’ He eyed the bottle, obviously reluctant to part with it. ‘Do yer think it might be a bit too strong for the baby?’ he asked
hopefully. ‘Me an’ Beryl could allus make another one for when ’e’s older.’

Kate hid a smile with difficulty, ‘Matthew
is
a little young for liquorice-water,’ she said, enjoying Billy’s expression of vast relief. ‘Would you mind very
much taking this one back and making another one for him when he’s a little older?’

‘Nah,’ Billy said, trying to sound regretful and failing utterly. ‘Liquorice-water doesn’t save so me an’ Beryl’ll just ’ave to drink this ourselves. It
don’t ’alf make your teeth go black,’ he added confidingly, ‘though that doesn’t matter for babies, does it, ’cos they don’t ’ave any!’

‘Miss Helliwell gave me a card to give to you,’ Harriet said a day or two later, returning from a shopping trip that had entailed a thirty-minute queue for a loaf
of fresh bread and an hour long queue for a dubious piece of brisket. She put her basket down on Kate’s kitchen table. ‘I think she’d like to come and see the baby but is a bit
unsure as to whether she would be welcome.’

Kate had long since forgiven Miss Helliwell for being one of the bystanders when her father had been escorted away to his internment camp. ‘I’d like to see her,’ she said,
continuing with her task of lifting nappies from the pail in which they had been put to soak and dropping them into a wash-tub of steaming soapy water. ‘Did you know that she and Leon are
friends? They have been ever since he rescued Faust from the jaws of a bull terrier.’

Harriet Godfrey had not known. In twin-set, tweed suit, brogues and pearls she negotiated a way between the wash-tub and the mangle in order to reach the rocking-chair. ‘There are far too
many dogs in Magnolia Square,’ she said grimly, sitting down with relief. ‘And their numbers haven’t been helped by Ellen’s strays adding to them. Coriolanus leapt the
garden fence and was on the loose for the whole of yesterday afternoon. It was Charlie who brought him back.’

Kate wiped her hands dry on a towel and opened Miss Helliwell’s card. It was home-made and gaudily decorated with moons and stars and astrological symbols.

‘I also managed to get some fruit at the Jennings’ market stall,’ Harriet continued, ‘Caroline was there, filling in time before her bus shift started. I told her you had
had the baby.’

Kate stood very still, her stomach muscles tightening. ‘What did Carrie say?’ she asked at last as Harriet proffered no further information.

Harriet, well aware of the estrangement between Kate and Carrie and having a good idea as to its cause, said, ‘She didn’t say very much because Christina Frank was with her. She did
ask me to give you her best wishes though.’

Kate’s face whitened. Best wishes. Even near strangers offered best wishes when a baby was born. She remembered her own euphoria when Rose had been born; how she had been round at
Carrie’s house the instant she heard the news; how she and Carrie had kissed and hugged and shared the joy of Rose’s birth.

Harriet saw the stricken look on her face and said with unaccustomed gentleness, ‘I think Caroline is as unhappy about your broken friendship as you are, Katherine. Perhaps when you first
take Matthew out in his pram it would be a good idea to walk down to the Jennings’. Everyone likes to see a newborn baby and babies make it very easy for people who have grown apart to become
close again.’

At the beginning of the following week, when Ellen had returned to her home in Greenwich and Harriet had returned to her full-time ambulance-driving duties, Kate laid a warmly
dressed Matthew in his pram. She would call on Miss Helliwell and her sister and she would call at Carrie’s.

It was a typically cold, blowy March day and there was a hint of rain in the air as, hampered by Hector, she manoeuvred the pram inexpertly down the short flight of stone steps to the front
pathway.

She was concentrating so hard on her task that she was oblivious of the chauffeur-driven Bentley parked at the far side of the road, opposite her gate.

With the cumbersome pram safely on the level, she leaned forward and pulled its hood up. Heavy masculine footsteps crossed the road towards her and Hector began to bark. She raised her head, a
smile on her face, expecting to see Charlie or perhaps even a mellowed Albert Jennings or Daniel Collins or Mr Nibbs.

‘I’d like to see my great-grandchild,’ Joss Harvey said unequivocally, the astrakhan collar of his overcoat pulled high against the inclement weather.

She gripped the pram handle tightly, too taken by surprise to make any immediate reply. Why on earth hadn’t she realized Joss Harvey would seek her out when his great-grandchild was born?
Why hadn’t she been expecting this confrontation and been prepared for it?

‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ Joss asked, ignoring Hector and walking closer to the pram.

‘It’s a boy.’ Reluctantly she put on the pram’s brake and leaned forward, lowering the hood in order that he could see his great-grandchild more clearly.
‘I’ve named him Matthew. Matthew Tobias Leon Carl.’

Joss Harvey made a snorting sound, presumably at the un-Englishness of his great-grandson’s last two names and the non-inclusion of his own name.

He stood for a long moment staring down at the shawl-wrapped, blanketed baby. ‘Is he healthy?’ he asked gruffly.

She nodded, tensing herself in case he again brought up the subject of adoption.

He didn’t do so. He bent over the pram and with a leather-gloved forefinger pulled the shawl clear of Matthew’s face so that he could see him even more clearly. ‘You
can’t keep him in London,’ he said at last, still feasting his eyes on him. ‘It isn’t safe. February may have been a light month for raids but the reprieve won’t last
much longer. He needs moving with a nanny to Somerset or Dorset. I can make all the necessary arrangements . . .’

‘No!’ It took all Kate’s willpower not to snatch Matthew from the pram and hug him to her breast. ‘You’re only making that suggestion because you want Matthew for
yourself! You want him as a replacement for Toby!’

He straightened up, turning towards her, saying harshly, ‘I’m making the suggestion because I don’t want my great-grandson blasted to kingdom-come in a Jerry bombing raid! I
lost my son to the bastards in 1918. I’ve lost my grandson to them and I’ll be damned to hell before I lose my great-grandson to them!’

The passion and truth in his voice almost undid her. What if in the next air raid Magnolia Square was obliterated just as street after street in the East End and Deptford had been obliterated?
What if Matthew died and she survived? How would she be able to live with herself, knowing that her selfishness had kept him in London when he could have been safe in Somerset or Dorset?

‘No,’ she said again, her voice strangled in her throat. ‘Other women are keeping their babies with them in London . . .’

‘Not if they’ve any choice they’re not!’ Joss said as Hector growled menacingly at him. ‘It’s about time you started thinking of what Toby would have wanted
for his son, and what he would have wanted would be for his son to be safe!’

She released the handbrake on the pram. She couldn’t stay and talk to him a second longer. He was so forceful and aggressive that if she did anything might happen.

‘I have an appointment,’ she lied stiffly. ‘Goodbye.’

Joss snorted derisively. ‘I don’t believe you, young woman. You’re frightened of me because I’m telling you home truths you don’t want to hear. For as long as the
Blitz on London lasts I can give Matthew a safe home. Think about it. And think about what the consequences may be if you come to the wrong decision.’

She pushed the pram past him, down the path and out through the open gateway, consumed by fear and doubt. Joss Harvey
was
Matthew’s great-grandfather. He was entitled to visit
Matthew and take an interest in his welfare. And remembering how devoted he had been to Toby, his interest was sincere, of that she was sure.

Behind her, Hector was making rushing little darts towards Joss, barking noisily. Kate didn’t turn her head. Hector might threaten but he wouldn’t bite and eventually Joss Harvey
would tire of staring fumingly after her and would return to his chauffeur-driven car.

Knowing that she had a very big decision to make, she walked in a turmoil of emotion towards Miss Helliwell’s. She was almost there before Hector finally caught up with her. Dimly, behind
her, she heard the sound of the Bentley heading out of the Square and down Magnolia Terrace.

‘It took you a long time to shoo him away,’ she said chidingly as Hector bounded around the pram, eager to be praised.

‘What was the matter? Did you know he was family?’

Family. Incongruous as it seemed, where her son was concerned, Joss Harvey
was
family. And he was obviously going to ensure that Matthew grew up knowing it.

‘Oh, my dear, isn’t he just the most wonderful thing!’ Esther Helliwell cooed, sitting in her wheelchair in a room almost completely taken up by a Morrison
shelter, holding Matthew in her arms with utmost care.

‘He’s a treasure, an absolute treasure,’ her sister said, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘I must work out his astrological chart straight away. I’m sure it will be
auspicious. I can feel in my bones that he’s a little chap destined for great things. Perhaps he will be a musician or a poet or even an explorer!’

Later, as Kate was leaving the house, Emily said awkwardly, ‘We’ve missed you calling in, dear. You will call again, won’t you? Your lodger kept us in touch with how you were
keeping. Such a nice young man. He’ll come home safe to you. I’ve read it in the stars and the stars never lie.’

Once out in the Square again, Kate hugged Miss Helliwell’s words to her. Miss Helliwell had been right about so many things in the past. She had forecast Carrie and Danny’s marriage
and she had quite obviously foreseen Toby’s death. That was why, when she had read her palm all those years ago, she had said that great heartache lay in store for her.

She began to push the pram towards Carrie’s. Miss Helliwell had also said that after the heartache would come great happiness. Was Leon going to be the cause of that great happiness? With
his companionship and sunny, easy-going nature he had already brought more happiness into her life than she had believed possible a few short months ago. Her hands tightened on the pram handle. She
missed him terribly and the empty sensation wasn’t eased, as yet, by letters. But he would write to her. She knew he would. And when he next had leave in England he would return to Magnolia
Square.

‘You’re a bloody whore!’
a tortured masculine voice shouted, making her jump nearly out of her skin.
‘Bloody Commandoes! They all think they’re bloody
Errol Flynn!’

The Lomaxes’ battered front door had burst open and Ted Lomax, in army uniform and with his kit-bag over his shoulder, was striding down the path at a near run, his face contorted by rage
and grief.

Kate came to an abrupt halt. If she’d continued walking she would have run into him.

From the open doorway came the sound of near-hysterical sobbing and then Billy shot out of the house, his face pinched and white.
‘Dad! Dad! Come back!’
he cried, tearing
down the path and into the street.
‘Come back, Dad! Please come back!’

Ted Lomax showed not the slightest sign of coming back. As startled neighbours came out on to their doorsteps, Ted stormed into Magnolia Hill, Billy desperately running in his wake.

Kate’s eyes flew back to the doorway. There was no sign of Mavis, though her sobs were so loud they could probably have been heard in Lewisham High Street. Beryl was there, though. With
her knickers hanging below the hem of her dress, her eyes frightened and bewildered, she was a pathetic little figure and Kate instinctively turned the pram in at the gate and put the brake on.

‘I haven’t seen him for nearly a year and he comes home and says he’s leaving me!’
Mavis sobbed as Kate walked into the house, holding Beryl’s hand.
‘
And he hit me! Ted! My lovely, gentle Ted! He
hit
me!
’

She was sitting at the kitchen table, tears pouring down her face, a sodden handkerchief held tightly in one hand.

‘How could he be so stupid?’
she continued between shuddering gasps for breath.
‘I’ve always been friends with Jack. The whole bloody street knows I’ve
always been friends with Jack!’

Deciding that her best course of action was to make a restorative cup of tea, Kate began filling a kettle with water. Carrie had forecast long ago that trouble would come of Mavis’s
friendship with Jack Robson. As she put the kettle on the gas hob she wondered who in Magnolia Square had been busybody enough to write to Ted informing him of the time Mavis and Jack spent
together whenever Jack was home on leave.

‘And there’s never been anything in it,’ Mavis continued, her sobs subsiding, the ring of truth naked in her voice. ‘Jack’s in love with Christina Frank. He’s
been in love with her for years.’

She wiped mascara-smeared tears from her face with the backs of her hands. ‘Why the hell can’t men have
brains
,’ she demanded passionately. ‘If I’d wanted
to have an affair with Jack I’d have had one years ago! I wouldn’t have waited till there was a bloody war on!’

‘Ted will be back,’ Kate said comfortingly, hoping to God her prediction would prove correct.

‘What’s the matter,
bubbelah?
’ Leah Singer’s voice enquired anxiously as she stepped into the house. ‘What’s the
tummel?
’

As her grandmother walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, Mavis straightened her shoulders and wiped her nose on her handkerchief. ‘Now for the inquisition and the “I told you
so’s.” Thank God Carrie’s bus shift doesn’t finish till eight tonight. If she’d been home I’d never have heard the end of it.’