by Beezy Marsh
I’d watched him selling over-ripe fruit to hatchet-faced housewives in headscarves with such charm, I couldn’t help but giggle. He’d even put an extra apple in their paper bags for them, by way of apology, giving me a wink as he did so.
So, I started to look forward to seeing him when I was running errands or escaping Dad’s black moods, or sometimes both, by going down to the shops in The Cut. There were always queues and that was an excuse to linger, to bat my eyelashes at him and pretend not to notice when he treated me to the broadest grin. When he smiled, it was like the clouds melted away.
Soon we were stepping out together, meeting at the cinema on Friday nights.
It wasn’t long before word reached Dad.
He sat brooding in his chair and when he heard the latch go on the front door, he went off like a clap of thunder, leaping up and grabbing me by the collar of my dress as I stepped over the threshold.
‘I know what you’ve been doing, my girl, and I’m telling you now, it’s over!’
His eyes bulged out of their sockets and I could see the spittle in the corner of his mouth. Lying about seeing Jimmy was pointless because the curtains had been twitching as we walked up the street.
I stared at the floor, knowing that protesting would only make matters worse: ‘Yes, Dad.’
Mum came dashing in, wringing her hands together, almost in prayer, whispering: ‘Please, Paddy, please don’t be too hard on her…’
But all that fell on deaf ears.
‘And if you so much as go near him again, you will feel the back of my hand!’ Dad shouted. ‘Now, get to bed.’
Jimmy was still hanging around by the lamppost outside and to my horror, Dad saw him off by yelling: ‘Stay away from my daughter, you spiv!’ out of the window.
So, if anyone in Tenison Street had missed the row, they certainly heard that.
It didn’t matter that Dad was wrong about Jimmy because by then it was too late.
The way we were together, the way he made me feel, was something new and shiny and special, like finding a lovely sixpence in your purse that you never want to let go.
Dad would never understand that, never in a month of Sundays, so what was the point wasting my breath trying to explain it?
There were no shouts, no banging of fists, no disapproving glares from my Jimmy. He wasn’t that kind of fella. He knew how to treat a lady, to be kind to her, with flowers and even a box of chocolates, which must have cost a fortune in coupons. That meant so much to me, seeing how Dad had Mum at her wits’ end the whole time and he’d never so much as pulled up a daisy to give her, despite everything she’d done for him her whole, miserable life.
Now, don’t get me wrong; when I was walking out with Jimmy, I wasn’t just some silly little schoolgirl hanging around with a good-looking barrow boy. We were making plans for the future, our future. Maybe not tomorrow, but one day soon. He said so. Being with him was easy and fun.
So, it was only natural that he wanted to take things further. When we went for a night out to the Trocadero down at the Elephant and Castle, he wasn’t eyeing up other women who were all dolled up in the foyer. Jimmy only had eyes for me, like I was his goddess, and after the film, in the freezing night air of a London winter, he pulled me into the alleyway and stole a kiss.
‘Nell, my Nell, my forever girl,’ he whispered, his eyes half-closing. ‘You’re so beautiful tonight, how can I resist you?’
My heart fluttered, like a thousand butterflies in my chest.
I felt his fingers at the hem of my skirt, pushing it upwards. I clasped his hand for a second and he looked deep into my eyes, and I relaxed and kissed him. If this is what it took to be his forever girl, then I was prepared to let him shrug my knickers down my legs which were blotchy with cold and let him explore further.
I draped my arms around his neck, as I’d seen the actresses do on screen, and let him explore my mouth with this tongue.
His fingers wandered higher up my thighs and when he touched me, I winced at first at the shock of it, so he nibbled my ear and held me tightly, his sweet nothings making us both giggle. His soft laughter was infectious and before long, I was giddy with it.
He put my hand to his fly, which was bulging and firm, and I tensed at that. How on earth would that fit?
‘It won’t hurt much, I promise, and you’ll like it,’ he said. ‘Then you’ll be a woman, my woman.’
‘Alright, Jimmy,’ I whispered, nervously. ‘You can.’
I felt him, insistent, pushing at the top of my thighs and suddenly he was inside me. As I gasped at the sting of it, he stroked my hair and covered my face with kisses.
‘It’s you and me, Nell, forever,’ he breathed. ‘Just us.’
As we moved together, we weren’t hard up against the bins in a grimy alleyway at the cinema; we were in paradise.
Now I understood what those actors in the films were on about, not to mention the noises that came from Mum and Dad’s bedroom after they’d rowed. I didn’t want it to stop.
Then a couple of months passed with no bleeding. Mum was too bound up coping with her job up at the wastepaper factory and with Dad’s temper to notice that I hadn’t thrown anything on the fire lately. Living on rations meant everyone felt hungry from time to time but I could lick the plate clean and still have room for more. The horrible truth dawned. I was pregnant.
That was a couple of weeks ago and now the waistband of my skirt was getting uncomfortably tight.
I scanned the smoky pub for any sign of Jimmy, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The woman in the red fedora hat was watching me closely, a row of diamond rings sparkling on her right hand. They were spellbinding.
Just then, the pub door swung open again and another crowd tumbled in, shaking off the rain, which was coming down like stair-rods. ‘Flaming June, flaming nuisance, more like. It’s a washout!’ said a woman with a mane of red hair, which hung about her shoulders, like a damp fox’s brush.
Trailing in her wake, like a little tug-boat, with a stupid grin on his face, was Jimmy.
‘Let’s have another one, ladies,’ he slurred, barging his way to the bar, slinging his arm around his companion, who had a beautiful black suede handbag to match her shoes, which had been ruined in the downpour.
She turned, planting a wet kiss on his cheek, so that he was branded by her lipstick, which was red like the post-box at the end of the road.
That set me off. I felt vomit rising in my gullet. I hadn’t suffered any morning sickness and now was not a good time to start. My hands turned clammy. He hadn’t even noticed me, the feckless sod! There I was, like a bleeding gooseberry, perched on the barstool. I pulled my cardi tighter around my middle, poking a finger through one of the holes left by the moths. I wished the ground could have swallowed me up, there and then.
The redhead, she was all eyes, wasn’t she? She spotted me staring at them and gave Jimmy a sharp nudge in the ribs. He looked over and blanched.
‘Nell, I wasn’t expecting you,’ he stammered, straightening his collar and wiping the lipstick from his cheek, leaving a horrid smear.
‘I can see that,’ I said, wondering if I could get away with picking up her handbag and clobbering him round the head with it.
‘Come and meet the girls,’ he said, throwing his arms open to me by way of apology.
In an instant, I was swept along the bar in Jimmy’s beery embrace: ‘You look gorgeous as ever, petal. Come and join the party!’
The barman took pity and threw Jimmy a lifeline, asking him for his order. That left me and her, and an awkward silence.
The redhead looked me up and down for a moment and then lit up a cigarette. She blew a few smoke rings in my direction.
‘Funny,’ she said, with eyes as cold as a dead fish, ‘Jimmy’s never mentioned you.’
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
The redhead pressed on, moving closer, so that I could see the smudges of red lipstick on her teeth: ‘Are you one
of the many, love? I can see what he sees in you. Pretty little thing, ain’t you? What’s your name?’
There was a silence.
‘Cat got your tongue, has it?’
‘It’s Nell,’ I replied, staring at the floor. Mum always said I was a good-looking girl, with big brown eyes and fine features, but my hair was a different story. It was mousey and never did what I wanted it to. What with the war and rationing, there was barely a picking on me so I looked younger than my years. Next to this woman, I was just a foolish schoolgirl and for some reason, I was behaving like one.
‘Does your Ma know you’re in here, Nell?’
‘That’s enough, Molly,’ said the woman in the fedora hat, leaning across and extending her hand to me. ‘Can’t you see the poor girl’s shy? Leave her be.’
Molly turned to leave.
‘I’m Alice,’ said the woman, giving me the full benefit of her startling green eyes. ‘Alice Diamond and it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
The unmistakable drone of airplanes could be heard outside. A few years ago, during the war, that would have sent everyone running for cover but now customers stampeded out to see the fly-past. Jimmy vanished with them, and I made my excuses to Alice Diamond and went after him.
Rain sploshed down, running in filthy rivulets into the gutter, as everyone craned their necks skywards to watch the planes fly over in formation, towards Buckingham Palace.
My hair was soaking wet, plastered to my head and my blouse was soaked through, as I stuttered: ‘I’m in trouble, Jim.’
‘Whassmarra, darlin’?’ he said, with such a glazed look in his eye, I felt like crying.
‘I’m going to have a baby.’
I clung to him as a look of shock swept across his face but then Jimmy, God love him, pulled me into a big bear hug, swaying slightly on his feet.
‘I think you’re smashing, Nell,’ he said, giving my tummy a little pat. ‘It’s a bit unexpected, ain’t it? But I will sort this out, you’ll see. You’re my forever girl, ain’t you? Shall we have another one to celebrate?’
‘But… we’ve gone and put the cart before the horse,’ I mumbled. ‘Me dad’ll kill me!’
There were ways of doing things. Women who didn’t were whispered about or worse. The GIs had plenty of fun in the war but all anyone remembered now was who’d dropped their drawers for a packet of nylons or who’d cheated on their husbands while they were serving overseas.
Love didn’t come into it. Marriage was about respectability and, from what I’d seen, sacrifice.
Iris, my mate from the factory, who lived a few doors down, had made herself sick with worrying during the war, waiting for news of her fella Tommy, who’d been captured in Burma. When he returned, he was nothing like the six-foot docker who used to swing me up in the air to make me squeal with laughter when I was a kid.
Poor Tommy was more like a living skeleton. Iris had done everything she could to make him feel safe at home, she’d cooked him all his favourite meals, which he’d insisted on eating alone in the bedroom. He couldn’t bear any noise from the kids in the street and he’d been so short with Iris’s mum, who had gone a bit doolally after she was bombed out, that the poor old dear sat crying on the doorstep one afternoon and wouldn’t go back indoors until it got dark. But Iris stuck with him because that is what women round our way did.
Now I was in the family way without a ring on my finger but Jimmy thought he could sort anything, easy as pie, because things just seemed to fall off the back of lorries and into his lap whenever he needed them.
‘Just leave it with me, sweet,’ he said, kissing me on the cheek. ‘Now, I’ve got a bit of business to sort but I’ll catch you later. Why don’t you get to know the girls a bit, they’re lovely?’
And with that, he was gone, like a rat up a drainpipe.
Alice Diamond strolled over as I was standing there and put her arm around me.
‘Got yourself in a spot of trouble, have you?’ she said, pointing her cane towards my belly.
‘No, no I haven’t.’ I lowered my voice to a whisper. The last thing I wanted was the whole pub finding out I had a bun in the oven.
‘Calm down, sweetness,’ said Alice, giving me a little pat. ‘You just looked like you had a little secret to tell Jimmy, that’s all, and it wouldn’t be the first time, where he’s concerned.’
‘What do you mean?’ I said, panic rising in my voice.
‘Why don’t you come back inside, and we’ll have a little chat?’ said Alice, steering me back through the door of The Feathers. It was more like an order than a question.
Inside the pub, more people got up to dance and someone was hammering on the piano now, When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob, Bob Bobbing Along. That song always made me smile when I heard it on the radiogram at the factory. It’s fair to say I could more than carry a tune but right now my voice had deserted me.
Fellas grasped whatever their dance partners were prepared to offer – a hand, a waist – clinging to each other as they jostled their way around the floor which was sticky with spilled beer. They’d all survived the war. They’d all won but they’d all lost too and when someone started to sing, We’ll Meet Again, there were a few tears.
Alice settled herself on a bar stool and motioned for me to join her.
‘We’ll have two whiskey macs,’ she barked at the barman, who jumped to it.
Alice swirled the amber liquid around her glass for a minute and I copied her. I’d never drunk whiskey, that was a fella’s drink, but when I sipped, it warmed me from the inside and it felt lovely and reassuring.
‘Now, you’re in a spot of trouble ain’t you?’ said Alice, looking deep into my eyes.
‘I don’t think I want to…’
‘You can tell me, duck. It’s my business to know things about people,’ she continued, like a steamroller, ignoring my reply. ‘I notice a lot, how their clothes hang for one thing and yours are looking a bit tight around the middle. Been eating a lot of pies, have we?’
‘No, ’course I haven’t.’
The very idea of it, on rations!
Alice pointed to the girls she’d come in with, who were attracting men like bees to honey. ‘These girls here work for me. In fact, I could find a job for you, if you like…’
‘That’s very kind,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a job though…’
A few other customers who’d had enough of the rain traipsed back indoors, like so many drowned rats, but Jimmy wasn’t among them. My heart sank.
‘Think about it,’ said Alice, relaxing her grip. ‘You can find me down at Queen’s Buildings on Scovell Road at the Elephant and Castle. We can have a chat about it. Everyone round there knows me.’
‘But I’ve got a job at the fur factory…’ I began again.
‘Not for long, in your condition, love,’ said Alice, matter-of-factly, buttoning up her jacket. I felt like I’d been slapped, but it was true, pregnant girls got their marching orders, especially ones who were unmarried. The boss, Miss Pritchard, was a proper witch. All that was missing was the broomstick.
‘I’m not sure Jimmy’ll want me to work when I’m married, and I’ll have the baby to think about too…’ was all I could manage. My whole life seemed to be spinning out of control and this woman had seen right through me. Jimmy had buggered off and left me in the lurch.
‘I’ll let you into a little secret,’ she said, murmuring softly in my ear. ‘I’ve known Jimmy a long, long time and with the best will in the world, he makes a lot of promises he can’t keep. He means well, honest he does, but if I had a quid for every engagement ring he’s palmed off on innocent young girls like yourself, I’d be a millionaire by now.’
‘That’s not true,’ I gasped, ‘I don’t believe you!’
I freed myself from Alice’s grasp and ran out of the pub, blinded by tears.
‘Suit yourself,’ said Alice, shrugging her shoulders.
I could still hear her laughter ringing in my ears over the music, as the pub doo
r swung shut.
I stood alone in a crowd on Waterloo Bridge, as darkness fell.
People milled about, a mass of dampened spirits, wet flags and sodden shoes. Searchlights criss-crossed the sky and then the first of the fireworks exploded overhead through drifting clouds, to a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the people below, who were desperate for a spectacle.
Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. I’d searched the boozers down The Cut and all his usual haunts, but he’d vanished into thin air.
What if Alice Diamond was right?
The thought of him making out with the redhead made me feel queasy again.
No one could say what the future held. The war had taught me that much, with houses there one day and gone the next, and all the poor souls in them too.
Then there was Mum, spending every day dancing to Dad’s tune, and Iris, her nails bitten to the quick dealing with a stranger in her own home. And now Jimmy, flirting with floozies. He’d played me for a fool, that’s what Alice said.
There was something about those women in the pub, how happy and carefree they looked. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it?
God knows, I hadn’t made it easy on myself. What the hell was I going to do? I was only just turning twenty and I had a horrible feeling my life was headed one way – downhill.
Chapter Three
ALICE
Elephant and Castle, London, June 1946
Call it instinct if you like, or the devil’s luck, but I’m rarely wrong about who has the makings of a good hoister. I have always had the knack of picking them off the streets of South London to work for me.
Take this girl, Nell from Waterloo; she’s fresh as a daisy and a bit wet behind the ears but that’s perfect for us right now, with stores employing more walkers, who want to make our lives difficult by watching our every move. There’s something quite appealing about a girl-next-door, with a wide-eyed innocent look about her, because she won’t draw too much attention to herself.
She could go far, as long as she doesn’t lose her bottle. Being a good hoister takes guts and daring. I suspect she’s got something sparky in her, even if she don’t know really know it yet. I’m not a betting woman, unless I know which way the odds are stacked, but I’d lay money she’ll be knocking on my door soon. It’s amazing how being down on your luck can focus your mind. With a bun in the oven, she’ll be keen to please and open to a new opportunity. I’ve seen that many times over the years and I’ve got a feeling young Nell’s going to come in very handy, if she plays her cards right.
