The Street (15 page)

‘I’m gonna miss you so much, Al.’

‘Going to miss you too,’ Alice muttered hoarsely and kept on folding her sister’s few new clothes. Neatly she put them in Sophy’s travelling bag. She sniffed back the dew that threatened to drip from her nose and blinked away blurring tears. ‘Can’t believe you’re really goin’,’ Alice choked out through the lump in her throat. ‘It’s come around so quick. Seems like only yesterday you announced you was off when we was in the caff with Geoff and Dan.’

Almost a month had passed since Sophy and Danny dropped the bombshell about leaving London for Essex. Now it was a Saturday in late September and at midday Sophy was getting on a train and leaving The Bunk to start her new life in service at a manor house in Essex.

‘It don’t seem real,’ Sophy said, her quavering voice betraying her nervous excitement. ‘If I don’t like it there I’m coming home,’ she added. ‘Don’t care what Dan says; if they’re horrible, mean sorts I’m coming back here, ‘n’ that’s that.’

Alice looked up, her blue eyes glistening, but she smiled encouragement at Sophy. She knew her sister would never be back, mean people or no mean people. Sophy had in her pocket her ticket to ride away from the worst street in North London. Her future was fresh air and regular grub and, please God, when the time was right for them, perhaps a family of her own with Danny Lovat. Despite all the argy bargy that had gone on between Sophy and Danny Alice knew her sister had always, deep down, never stopped loving him. ‘You’ll be alright,’ Alice mumbled. ‘It’s not as if you’re going alone and don’t know nobody. You’ve got Dan.’

‘Yeah . . . I’ve got Dan,’ Sophy said softly and followed that with a crooked little smile.

Suddenly Alice hugged Sophy tightly to her. ‘Don’t go doing nothing stupid for him though,’ she said gruffly. ‘Don’t go letting him persuade you to misbehave again before you’re properly sorted out together. You’ll both end up with no roof over your heads. Posh lady’ll put you off soon as look at yers if you’re knocked up at your age and livin’ in her house.’ She let go of Sophy and resumed packing her clothes.

A sheepish look and a quick nod was Sophy’s agreement to her younger sister’s wisdom. ‘I already put him straight on it all, don’t worry about that.’ She gazed intently at Alice. ‘You think I was in the family way, don’t you, not just late with me monthlies.’

Alice shrugged and glanced away, not wanting to upset Sophy on this day of all days.

‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot,’ Sophy said. ‘All that blood ‘n’ stuff . . . it were a tiny baby, weren’t it? I lost me baby, before it was ready, didn’t I?’

Alice’s small teeth sank into her lower lip for a moment as she considered her answer. ‘Not sure,’ she finally said. ‘If you did it’s called a miscarriage.’ She looked gravely at her sister. ‘I heard Annie talking with some of the other women at work. What they were saying about this friend of Annie’s sounded similar to what happened to you. They called it a miscarriage.’

‘Kitty at Star Brush kept dropping hints like that. I didn’t want to listen to her ’cos it made me stomach turn to think of me baby getting tipped down the bog even if he was dead. Anyhow Mum found out what she’d been saying and told her to shut her gob, and keep her nose out, so I never found out no more.’

The sisters gazed solemnly at one another, each lost in private memories. Six months ago they’d been two frightened girls bewildered by what was happening to Sophy. Now they knew what women knew and prayed they’d never need to struggle through such a time again.

‘So don’t go doing nothing stupid,’ Alice repeated hoarsely.

Any further conversation on the subject was prevented by their mother’s appearance in the doorway of the back room. ‘Ready?’ she asked Sophy. ‘Don’t want to be late and miss your connectin’ train at Fenchurch Street. Danny’s already out on the pavement waiting.’

Sophy quickly stuffed the last few remaining bits in her bag. ‘Will you come to the station with me?’ Her eyes were pleading as they met Alice’s.

‘Try ’n stop me,’ Alice answered huskily.

‘We’ll all come,’ Tilly announced shortly. ‘Bleedin’ hell! Ain’t every day one of me daughters gets a job takes her miles away across the country.’ She rolled down her blouse sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. ‘’Sides, Margaret and Bert ‘n’ all their kids are seeing Danny off. So we’re seeing you off ‘n’ all. And that’s that.’

Jack took Sophy’s bag from her and the Keiver family trooped down the dank stairs to join the Lovats congregated on the pavement. As the little party set off in a festive mood in the direction of Finsbury Park railway station some of the neighbours came out to lean shoulders on doorjambs and watch the families pass. Old Beattie Evans called out good luck and farewell to Sophy from across the road and Sophy acknowledged her with a wave and a smile. She then skipped ahead and walked beside Danny at the front of the human convoy, her expression proud and her chin high. As Alice watched the couple she felt a warm contentment bathe her insides. It looked like Sophy had subdued her butterflies and settled down already.

Alice and Geoff fell into step together, right at the back of the group, behind their parents and a clutch of their boisterous younger siblings.

‘Glad he’s off at last,’ Geoff muttered. ‘He’s been driving me up the wall goin’ on about having proper riding boots. Thought I could get him some from Milligan’s. It’s a gent’s outfitters in Islington, fer Gawd’s sake, not a nobs’ shop up Savile Row.’

Alice chuckled and angled her head to see Danny’s smart, poker-straight back as he marched on with her sister towards their new life. ‘Well, you’ve done him proud. He might not have his riding boots but he looks ready for anything all the same.’

‘Yeah . . . don’t he just,’ Geoff grunted wryly. ‘Give him all them togs as a going-away present. Had to pay fer it ‘n’ all. Old man Milligan’s been watching me like an ’awk. He ain’t daft. He knew I’d be eyeing a bit of new clobber.’

‘You’re a big softie, Geoff Lovat.’

‘Not where Dan’s concerned, I ain’t. Just glad to see the back of him.’ To avoid Alice’s mocking look he added gruffly, ‘Still don’t know why there weren’t no big ruckus over it all.’ He frowned. ‘I was expecting me mum ‘n’ dad to kick up a helluva lot more over losing him and his pay.’

‘Me ‘n’ Sophy have been waiting for the same in ours. Even up to this morning when we were packing her things we were expecting round one to start. We was afraid me mum might decide she’d got to stop home after all.’ She gazed into the distance. ‘Strange really . . . but it seems since the war started things’ve been a bit different. It’s hard to explain what sort of different,’ she said slowly, reflecting. ‘I can’t put me finger on it ’cos the fighting’s all a long way away and it’ll probably be over soon in any case. But it seems like everyone’s expecting something big might happen so they’re not bothering making a song ‘n’ dance over other stuff like they would normally. Hope what’s coming turns out to be good.’

‘Can feel it all in yer bones, can you?’ Geoff’s tone was lightly teasing, but his thoughtful frown displayed he’d attended intently – more closely than he was willing to let on – to Alice’s simple, jumbled philosophy.

‘Yeah . . . suppose I can feel it in me bones. It’s peculiar just waiting, knowing it could turn out bad, but really hoping it’ll be good instead.’

Having reached the station the group trooped onto the platform where the train was standing. A lot of people were milling around and Margaret and Tilly ordered the kids to be still and not hare about and get lost.

Sophy turned and rushed back along the family queue to where Alice was standing with Geoff. She snatched her sister in a determined embrace.

‘I want some letters off you,’ Alice mumbled against Sophy’s shoulder. ‘I want to know all what’s going on in Essex. Especially want to know what the people’s like, and what your digs are like ‘n’ so on.’

Sophy nodded then, rubbing at her streaming eyes, she pushed away and moved amongst the other members of her family to give them hugs and kisses.

Having given her eldest daughter a perfunctory cuddle Tilly pushed Sophy away. ‘Geddoff with you,’ she fondly chided. ‘Ain’t much to tell you that ain’t already been said. Just make sure you behave yourself and keep yer job,’ was her blunt maternal advice. ‘Don’t forget: if you can spare it send it ’cos we need it. And come back and see us soon as you can. That’s all.’

Sophy nodded at her mum and cuffed her nose. She turned to her dad and went immediately into his open arms.

‘Be a good gel,’ he whispered achingly softly against her temple. ‘Keep safe. God bless you.’

‘And you . . .’ Sophy choked.

Bert and Margaret Lovat were bestowing similar advice on Danny while he attempted to free his legs from his clinging little siblings and Geoff hung back, looking amused. Finally Geoff approached his brother and shook Danny’s hand and then rather self-consciously he found his place at the back of the family group again.

At last the goodbyes were done and the couple boarded the train with moments to spare as the guard paced officiously up and down, whistling and signalling. As the train pulled away a thicket of waving hands sprung up and some of the little ones shot along the platform to follow in its juddering black wake. Even little Lucy trotted a few steps after her big sister Sophy before Beth caught her up in her arms and nuzzled her pink cheek.

‘That’s enough. Let’s get going,’ Geoff muttered gruffly to Alice.

She understood his reasons for wanting to be off now. She wanted some time away from the rest of her family too on what seemed to be a particularly significant day. An ending and a beginning . . . perhaps not just for Sophy and Danny, Alice mused as she nodded agreement to Geoff’s suggestion that they make their escape.

‘Off down the caff fer a cuppa,’ Alice called out to her mum. She’d chosen the right time to slip away. Tilly was preoccupied and simply acknowledged Alice’s shout with a wave. She was in the process of comforting Margaret over the loss of her firstborn by planting two work-raw hands on Margaret’s shaking shoulders. Margaret continued to weep loudly into her hanky as Geoff and Alice made their way out of the station.

Before they disappeared round the corner Alice glanced back to see her father and Bert Lovat were already marshalling the kids into some sort of order for the tramp home. In the distance she could just see the train that was carrying her sister away. ‘Bye, Sophy,’ she murmured before the view was lost to her.

‘Why ain’t you in uniform? Too yeller to go to war?’

Alice snatched the white feather that the woman had thrust against Geoff’s chest and threw it on the ground. ‘You stupid old fool!’ she hissed. ‘He ain’t even old enough to join up. He ain’t even sixteen yet.’

The woman showed no sign of remorse. Her features remained contorted by bitterness. She was dressed head to toe in black and it was easy to guess what caused her spite: she’d recently lost her husband or son to the war. Women of all ages, sour of countenance, dressed in mourning clothes, were an increasingly common sight on the streets.

Alice marched on, urging Geoff to do the same by clutching tightly at his elbow. Her hostile glare clashed with the woman’s belligerent stare until they’d passed her by.

‘Me husband’s gawn and me son were short of seventeen when he joined up,’ she yelled after them. ‘Brave as a lion, he were. Now he’s dead fighting fer the likes of them’s too yeller to go and do their bit. You’re big enough to do your bit.’

‘Don’t take no notice,’ Alice mouthed at Geoff as they kept walking. She took a keener look at Geoff’s strained features. He
was
too young to officially join up but Alice could tell he’d been affected by what the widow had shouted at him. There were tales going around of boys as young as twelve who’d lied about their age and gone off to help win the fight against the Germans. The street was crowded and people were turning to stare at them. ‘Gotta make allowances,’ Alice announced loudly. ‘The poor old soul’s grieving and it’s done her a damage in the brainbox.’ Alice gave Geoff a playful nudge to try and coax a smile from him.

Geoff obliged with a little grunt of laughter. ‘Times like this I wish I weren’t so tall. That’s the second time this week some old gel’s said I should get meself to France in uniform.’

‘Good job your mum weren’t about. She’d have something to say about it!’

‘Bleedin’ hell . . . would she,’ Geoff agreed in alarm. ‘If I decided to go down the recruiting office, and she found out, she’d be down there after me to drag me home. She’s still not got over losing Dan’s wages.’

‘I’ve got a letter from Sophy in me pocket,’ Alice told him, glad to change the subject to something more pleasant. ‘When we get to the caff I’ll read it to you. Well, the bits that aren’t personal, that is.’ Alice qualified her offer with a cheeky grin.

A sleety rain started to fall. Pulling up the collar of her coat, Alice speeded up her pace and urged Geoff to keep up and trot with her.

It was an icy afternoon in April and they’d been out for the afternoon browsing with friends in Chapel Street Market. Sarah Whitton had been with them but Sarah and Herbert Banks had decided to go somewhere dry and warm when the weather took a turn for the worse. They’d headed off to the flicks for the matinee while Geoff and Alice dodged the showers and continued looking at what was on offer on the stalls. Finally having decided there was nothing she liked enough to pay good money for – apart from a toffee apple for each of them – they had been on their way to the café for a nice hot drink when the widow had accosted Geoff.

As Alice turned to look over her shoulder she saw in the distance the widow stoop and collect the feather from the wet pavement then wander off, darting looks here and there as though seeking another young fellow to embarrass with it.

Alice knew the attitude of the people to the war was changing. Christmas had come and gone months ago and still there was no sign of the Germans being defeated. Every evening she sat at the table with her dad and they scanned the paper to find out what was happening over there . . . and over here. She remembered reading over and over again, open-mouthed, the article about something called a Zeppelin that had flown over the Norfolk coast to carry out a raid. That had been a long while ago – back in January. Then just last month the allied fleet had lost two ships and thousands of sailors and retreated from the Hun around a place called Constantinople. The allies were struggling and people at home were not now so confident as they’d once been of a fast, easy victory. Feelings were beginning to run high over it all as the casualties increased.

A swift glance at Geoff told Alice he was still looking a bit morose after being unfairly called a coward. ‘Gasping for a cuppa,’ she said cheerily. ‘Let’s get in there and have a warm-up.’

They entered Kenny’s café and found seats. While Geoff went off to fetch the drinks Alice fished in her pocket and pulled out Sophy’s letter. She spread it on the table and smoothed her fingers gently over her sister’s spidery writing.

After warming her cold palms on the hot cup and taking a few sips Alice picked up the note.

‘Sophy’s having a grand old time of it. She says she might get promoted from the kitchen and be a proper housemaid in a month or so when one of the women leaves to get married. Then she gets to stay upstairs and polish all the lovely furniture. She says here,’ Alice pointed at a place on the letter, ‘she’d like to eventually train up to be a lady’s maid and do hair stylin’ and sewing. The pay’s better, of course, and like that, when her mistress or her daughters go here ‘n’ there on visits, the lady’s maid sometimes gets to go too to keep them all neat ‘n’ tidy.’ Alice gave Geoff a twinkling smile. ‘If she manages to pull that off, I bet she’ll get to see some smashing places. Might even get took on holidays abroad.’ Her eyes swooped back to Sophy’s letter. ‘And listen to this, what they had for dinner last week when guests come up from London and stayed over at the Manor.’ Alice cleared her throat to recite, ‘“We had a sheep butchered for that weekend and also a goose and lots of chickens. Even us servants got to have a three-course dinner in the evening with puddings and cheeses. Oh, Al, you should’ve been here, it was wonderful grub.”’ Alice’s wide eyes met Geoff’s. ‘Coo, she’s lucky . . .’ Alice had already read the letter several times since it arrived in the post yesterday but the part about the delicious food her sister was enjoying, she could feast her eyes on time and time again.

Once in a blue moon in The Bunk, they might, when times were good, have a joint of beef or lamb roasted with potatoes on a Sunday dinnertime. She was usually the one to rush up to the baker’s with the tin containing their dinner. Along with most Bunk families lucky enough to occasionally have a Sunday roast they paid the baker to cook it to perfection in his big oven. The hob grate at home wasn’t adequate to do justice to such a fine meal. The last time Alice could recall having such a lovely feed was about the same time as the piano turned up. It had been ages ago: the weekend when her dad first got good work doing up Basher’s houses to satisfy the sanitary inspector. Alice tore her mind from the memory of more bountiful days and back to the letter in her hand. ‘Then Sophy just says that the housekeeper’s alright and lets her and Dan sit close together at the big table in the servants’ hall ’cos they’re sweethearts.’

Alice folded the paper and put it away. ‘You had any letters from Dan yet?’

‘Nah!’ Geoff said and gulped his tea. ‘Think me mum got something from him on her birthday earlier in the month. Weren’t expecting him to keep in touch with me in particular.’

‘Perhaps when the summer gets here . . . if we save up the fare . . . we could go on a trip and see them. I’d like that,’ Alice added dreamily. ‘It’d be nice to go to the seaside.’

‘Yeah . . . p’raps,’ Geoff said quietly. He knew full well the expense of such an outing was beyond him now Dan had gone and he was the main breadwinner at home. ‘Anyhow,’ he said roughly, ‘the amount of food the two of ’em are tuckin’ away we probably won’t recognise them. They’ve probably turned into a right couple of fatsos.’

Alice’s gurgle of laughter was soon fading away. ‘Oh no! Not him!’ she muttered in a dejected tone.

Geoff turned to glance over his shoulder to see who had entered and upset Alice with his presence.

Jimmy Wild was brushing rain from his coat and shutting the door with a clatter of the bell that hung on the back of it. He was with another man who Geoff recognised. He’d seen the fellow hanging around on the corner on Paddington Street when gambling schools were out. He believed his name to be Benny.

Jimmy caught sight of the young couple and with a grin he immediately sauntered over to their table. ‘Alright, young Alice?’ he greeted her cheerily.

Alice dredged up a smile, hoping he’d then go away again. She hadn’t seen her uncle Jimmy for very many months. Nor had she wanted to. Now she was older she understood much more about him and his mean, selfish ways. She knew he’d gone off with a fancy woman and abandoned her aunt Fran when she was very ill from giving birth to their dead daughter. He’d left Bobbie and Stevie for Tilly to deal with, for he must have known that Fran couldn’t cope with them considering the state she’d been in. Alice understood too that her uncle wasn’t really a happy chappie who blew his top once in a while and found it necessary to chastise his kids, or return the slap his wife had given him. And Alice knew that husbands and wives did come to blows. She’d seen her mum and dad go at it like cat and dog on occasions. She’d seen her old Nan try and separate them with a broom. As she brooded on those occasions the song that her dear departed Nan would croon came in to her mind and refused to budge:

‘So, how’ve you been, Alice?’ Jimmy’s loud enquiry brought an abrupt finale to the ditty rotating infuriatingly in Alice’s mind. ‘Ain’t seen you in a good while. Gettin’ big now, ain’t you?’

He slowly inspected her in a way that made Alice feel uneasy and unpleasantly hot.

‘You gotta be fifteen now, ain’t you?’

‘Fourteen,’ Alice told him quickly and picked up her cup and drank from it.

‘I know you too, mate.’ Jimmy turned his attention to Geoff. ‘You live next door, don’t yer?’

Geoff simply nodded and sat back in his chair, ready to push it back and get to his feet in an instant.

‘You two walkin’ out, are you?’ Jimmy went on, swinging a leer between the young couple, oblivious or uncaring of the fact that they clearly wanted him gone.

‘No . . .’ Alice said.

‘Yeah . . .’ Geoff said.

They’d spoken at the same time and Jimmy chuckled. ‘Right . . . right . . . geddit.’ He gave Geoff a jokey punch on the arm. ‘Gotta try harder, mate. Change her mind. Little Alice’ll be well worth the trouble, I reckon. Pretty as a pitcher, ain’t she?’

Geoff stood up swiftly in a way that made Jimmy back off a step. They locked eyes for a minute then Jimmy chuckled again. ‘How old are yer, son? Never could tell who was older out of you ‘n’ your brother. Both lanky sods. Surprised you ain’t got yourself off fighting the Hun. You’d have no trouble passing yourself off as nineteen.’

‘He’s not yet sixteen.’ Alice slid that in quickly. She could tell just by glancing at Geoff that he was getting riled.

‘Right . . .’ Jimmy drawled in a sarcastic tone. ‘Gonna wait are you, till you get a bit taller?’

‘Surprised you ain’t got yourself down the recruiting office,’ Geoff said through his teeth. ‘Fit bloke like you, who’s keen on using his fists, is just what they’re after for a bit of hand ter hand in the trenches.’

Despite the sneer in Geoff’s tone Jimmy couldn’t resist flexing his toned biceps at the backhanded compliment. ‘If I weren’t a family man with me kids relyin’ on me to provide for ’em I’d be enlisted. But I got responsibilities, y’see . . .’ he added on a sigh.

‘Yeah,’ Geoff said. ‘I see alright.’

Jimmy stepped closer, his chin poking out pugnaciously but at that moment his mate called him from where he was sitting at the bar. ‘’Ere . . . drink’s going cold, Jim.’

‘Comin’, Ben. Done ’ere.’ Following a lopsided smile for Alice, that went unreturned, Jimmy swaggered off.

‘Finished your tea?’ Geoff asked Alice quietly.

Alice nodded and stood up at once.

‘See yer then, Al.’ Jimmy called that from the bar as Geoff opened the door.

‘Coming over to see the boys someday soon. Might see you later then. Mind how yer go, sweet’eart.’

Alice simply gave a nod before she went out into the drear afternoon.

‘He back with your aunt then?’ Geoff asked as they set out at a fast pace for home.

Alice huddled in to her coat. ‘Not as far as I know. If he is you can bet it’s only ’cos his fancy woman’s had enough of him and chucked him out.’ She cast a look up at Geoff. ‘Either that or he’s pretending he’s a family man with a wife ‘n’ kids, instead of a cheating layabout, so he don’t have to explain why he’s not joined up.’

‘You won’t get the likes of him to join up till the Hun send out armies of
frauleins
,’ Geoff observed sourly.

‘That what you’re waiting for?’ Alice joked then regretted her remark. ‘Didn’t mean that . . . sorry,’ she mumbled, thoroughly ashamed. ‘You must be sick of people dropping hints about you joinin’ up when you’re not even old enough to go.’

‘’S’alright,’ Geoff said. ‘I know you don’t mean no harm.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Got a feeling your uncle don’t like me though,’ he added.

‘Well, don’t worry about that!’ Alice returned forcefully. ‘None of us like him! He’s a pig and I hope he don’t come round The Bunk to see Bobbie ‘n’ Stevie. I hope he gets himself back down Finsbury Park with that old bag and stays put with the ponces!’

‘I saw Uncle Jimmy when I was out,’ Alice told her mum as she sat down at the table. ‘He came in to Kenny’s café when I was in there with Geoff.’ She watched her parents exchange a look. Her dad then continued reading the paper.

‘You just ignore him,’ her mother firmly instructed. ‘We’re well rid of the likes of him round here.’

‘He said he’s coming to see Bobbie ‘n’ Stevie,’ Alice informed her.

Again her parents exchanged a look.

‘He won’t be by,’ Jack reassured Tilly. ‘He’ll be too worried Fran’ll want money off him fer the kids.’