Tanner Trilogy 03 - Backstreet Child

by Harry Bowling

  Frank moved the knife against her throat. ‘Keep away, do you hear?’ he shouted.

  Suddenly Tony fell headlong onto his face and Frank started.

  Rachel saw her chance. She reached up, grabbing the hand holding the knife and sinking her teeth into the thumb. Joe immediately sprang at Frank and his fist landed full in his face. Alan dashed forward and between them the two men managed to wrestle the knife away from the madman. Rachel rushed to Tony, her blonde hair hanging over his face as she bent down and cuddled him to her. ‘Yer mustn’t die, d’yer ’ear me?’ she cried.

  Suddenly Frank broke free and he backed away, his eyes staring wildly at his adversaries. He looked from right to left, like a cornered animal, then with a maniacal scream he dashed to a crane door and stood balancing precariously on the footboard above the yard.

  ‘I fooled you, I fooled the lot of you,’ he laughed, a wild, desperate laugh. Then he turned and dived head first into the yard.

  Alan Wichello and Joe came out into the quiet lane supporting Tony between them, while Rachel held a handkerchief pressed against his side. They sat him down gently on the kerb. The bookmaker had already rushed up the road to phone for an ambulance, and Joe had covered the body of Frank Galloway with a piece of tarpaulin that he found in the yard.

  Rachel crouched down beside Tony and stroked his hair. ‘’E’ll be all right, won’t ’e, Joe?’ she asked fearfully.

  Joe nodded and smiled at her. ‘Tony’s gonna be fine, ain’t yer, son?’

  Tony smiled briefly. ‘Bet yer life. We’ve got a weddin’ ter fix up,’ he replied.

  Rachel kissed his cheek. ‘Soon as we can,’ she said smiling. Then she turned to Joe. ‘I knew yer’d come fer me, Joebo.’

  ‘I’ad to, luv,’ Joe told her. ‘I owed yer. Yer came fer me once, remember?’

  Chapter Forty-Two

  All day long family and friends had called to see Nellie Tanner as she lay very ill in her little back bedroom. Danny and Iris came and returned later with their children at Nellie’s behest, and Billy came round with Annie. Carrie had spent most of the time sitting with her mother as the pneumonia raged, and during her periods of wakefulness Nellie had much to say. Tony had been an early visitor that day, along with Rachel, and Nellie was quick to advise them on their forthcoming marriage.

  ‘Yer the last o’ the Galloways, son,’ she said. ‘What’s past is gone ferever. Yer’ll carry the name on an’ yer’ll no doubt sire children. Teach ’em well. Make sure that the ghosts o’ the past don’t visit ’em. As fer you, me gel, yer need look no furvver than yer muvver fer guidance. Keep a good table an’ make yerself presentable an’ yer won’t go far wrong.’

  Rachel and Tony exchanged smiles and Rachel kissed her grandmother’s feverish brow before she left. Nellie went to sleep. Later she roused herself enough to greet her old friends. Sadie came and sat chatting for a while and was joined by Maisie. The three old ladies recalled fond memories until Nellie became tired and drifted off to sleep once more. Maudie and Dolly called and stayed a while, then the three inseparables came round. Mrs Green led her two friends to the bedside and Mrs Haggerty and Mrs Watson looked very serious as they gazed down at Nellie.

  All night long Nellie’s fever raged and the next morning when the doctor called he shook his head. ‘She’s very weak, and her age is against her,’ he said. ‘She could drift off at any time, you understand.’

  Carrie nodded sadly. She cared for her ailing mother, got on with the task of running the business, and at the same time helped Rachel to arrange her coming wedding. Joe worked hard and eased Carrie’s burden as much as he could, but after days and nights of tending, fetching and carrying, Carrie felt exhausted.

  Late one afternoon she looked in on her mother, and seeing that the old lady was sleeping peacefully she went down to the parlour and put her feet up for a short nap. She had been asleep for less than an hour when voices in the yard roused her. She sat up abruptly as Joe showed a young soldier into the room. He was tall and fair, with a tanned skin and the deepest blue eyes. His smile seemed to light up his face and as he leaned forward to shake Carrie’s hand, he nodded knowingly.

  ‘Yes, you’re exactly as my father described you. I’m William Tanner,’ he said.

  Carrie was suddenly on her feet and she threw her arms round him, hugging him tightly. ‘Charlie’s boy! I can’t believe it,’ she blurted out. ‘Joe, just look at ’im, ain’t ’e the spittin’ image?’

  Joe exchanged grins with the young man and Carrie began to fuss over him. ‘Take a seat. Make yerself comfortable. Would yer like a cuppa?’

  As William eased his large frame into the chair, Carrie stood gazing down at him. ‘’Ow’s yer dad, an’ yer mum of course?’ she asked.

  William’s face became serious and he looked at Carrie kindly. ‘I’m afraid they’re both dead,’ he said quietly.

  Carrie felt her tears rising for the brother she had not seen for so many years. ‘ ’Ow? When?’ she asked him.

  ‘They were interned by the Japanese,’ William replied. ‘They both died in the prison camp. Lawrence and I were away at school in Delhi when the Japs overran the area where my parents were staying. Dad was still attached to the military as an adviser, you see.’

  Carrie shook her head sadly. ‘And Lawrence?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, he’s fine,’ William said smiling. ‘He’s staying with Mother’s family in India at the moment.’

  ‘And what brings you all this way?’ Carrie asked him.

  ‘I’m going on an officer training course at Sandhurst,’ he replied. ‘I’m very excited about it and it’s what my father would have wanted for me.’

  ‘I’m sure ’e’d be very proud of yer,’ Carrie told him.

  ‘I had to look you up,’ William said, his disarming smile beaming again. ‘Dad told me so much about his family, it’s as though we’ve always been living with you. He never forgot you all.’

  ‘We never fergot ’im,’ Carrie said with a lump in her throat.

  ‘Is Grandma around?’ he asked suddenly.

  Carrie’s face dropped. ‘She’s very ill. In fact the doctor says she could pass away at any time.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ William said quietly, sitting back in his chair.

  ‘Would yer like to see her?’ Carrie asked him. ‘She’s upstairs.’

  William nodded and got up quickly.

  Carrie led the way up the steep flight of stairs and as the two of them stepped into the tiny bedroom, Nellie opened her eyes.

  ‘Are yer awake, Mum?’ Carrie whispered. ‘I’ve brought someone ter see yer.’

  William bent over the bed and clasped the old lady’s hand gently in his. ‘How are you, Grandma?’ he asked almost reverently.

  Nellie’s eyes flickered and then she stared at him for a few moments. Suddenly her pale face was wreathed in a smile. ‘It’s me Charlie,’ she whispered, closing her eyes. ‘The good Lord’s answered me prayer. I knew yer’d come back ter me one day, Charlie.’

  William turned to Carrie, still clasping the old lady’s hand.

  ‘Yer was right all along, Mum,’ Carrie said, silent tears beginning to fall down her face.

  ‘Course I was right,’ Nellie whispered. ‘Now give yer ole mum a kiss, Charlie boy.’

  William bent over the bed and very gently laid his lips on his grandmother’s hot forehead.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, and she closed her eyes.

  Carrie and the young soldier backed quietly out of the room and crept down the stairs.

  ‘She’ll sleep peaceful now,’ Carrie said to the young man. ‘She’s got all yer dad’s letters under ’er bed. She still reads ’em when she’s feelin’ well enough. I fink we all knew the worst when the letters stopped three years ago.’

  William nodded sadly. ‘I would have written to you but I didn’t have your address,’ he replied. ‘Everything was destroyed when the Japs came in. As luck would have it my father took a few bits and pieces into the internm
ent camp and I got them when the Japs were pushed back. Among the effects was a notebook with your address in, and when I got my posting to England I swore I’d look you up. But actually it wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t had it. Father used to say that everyone knew the Tanners. All I had to do was get to Bermondsey.’

  Carrie smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, an’ everyone loved yer dad. We all did.’

  William took out an envelope and from it he removed a small notebook. ‘I wonder if you would like this as a keepsake,’ he said, putting it down on the table.

  Carrie picked the book up and held it to her for a few moments. ‘This was Charlie’s, yer dad’s?’ she asked.

  William nodded. ‘You’ll notice that the writing is very very small. You can understand why. There were virtually no writing materials available and that book was precious. There are things in there that I don’t understand. Perhaps you’ll be able to make some sense of them.’

  Carrie put the book in the cupboard drawer and smiled at him. ‘You must stay for tea,’ she said.

  He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry but this has to be a flying visit. I’ve a train to catch, you see,’ he replied. ‘I’ll definitely call again very soon and then we’ll have more time to talk.’

  When William had left, Carrie took the book from the drawer and sat down in her favourite armchair to look at it. It was tattered and stained and the writing was very cramped, but she was able to make out the words. Many times that evening she sat back and pored over her brother’s innermost thoughts. One piece of writing had caught her eye.

  Again the dream. Dark waters, full moon. When will it leave me? Not until the whole family sleeps. Sleep well, my love. You were too close. I chose to go in ignorance and to their comfort. We chose the path. Dark waters and another land. The knowledge gained is sent. In tiny pieces on the wind.

  Carrie hugged the tiny book to her breast, tears filling her eyes. Those words would not have made any sense to Charlie’s son, but they told her everything. Charlie shared the terrible secret that had sent Josephine to her chosen death. She had written him a suicide note, knowledge gained, and he feigned ignorance to protect the family – to their comfort, he had written. Charlie had torn the letter up and scattered it on the wind. He had found happiness with a wife and two children, but his words said what was still in his heart. He would never forget the tragedy of his first love until his dying day.

  Joe walked into the room, his face set firm. ‘I’ve just looked in on yer mum, Carrie. Yer’d better come up,’ he said quietly.

  The two stood looking down on the serene features of Nellie Tanner.

  ‘I’m ’appy for ’er, Joe,’ Carrie said. ‘She got ’er dyin’ wish.’

  Epilogue

  The church bells were silent no more, and as the peals rang out from St James’s Church people thronged the streets. In the little backwater by the river, Maurice Salter set up a table and served beer and sandwiches to all his neighbours. Sadie Sullivan danced a jig with Maisie Dougall and Maudie Mycroft dared to dance with Ernest in full view of everybody. Dolly and Josiah held hands and Wallace clapped and giggled at the crazy antics. All the children were allowed to stay up late and people stood around together, their happiness overflowing. Danny and Billy hugged each other and Annie hugged Iris. Carrie and Joe stood holding hands like young lovers, while the Salter girls flirted outrageously. Daniel Sullivan sat at his front door chatting to Fred Dougall, and Bert Jolly asked Mrs Haggerty to give him the pleasure of the next dance. Tom Casey played his harmonica and Mrs Green shared a quart bottle of stout with her friend Mrs Watson.

  Tony slipped his arm round his wife Rachel and nuzzled her ear. She smiled happily at him and rubbed a hand down her side as the baby kicked.

  ‘Yer’d better sit down,’ he said with concern.

  ‘Sit down nuffink. I want ter dance,’ she said firmly.

  Neighbours from Bacon Street joined the Page Street folk and together they celebrated. Old animosities were forgotten, and the festivities became noisier as the night wore on. River tugs and freighters sounded their klaxons and fireworks traced patterns across the summer night sky. Public houses stayed open late and the supply of beer was all but exhausted. Children were carried to bed already asleep. Lovers planned, and old folk reminisced. At long last the war was over and in the early hours of the morning Maurice Salter was carried to bed in a state of total inebriation.

  The euphoria lasted into the next few days as folk tired themselves out, slowly coming to terms and beginning to think about the future without the shadow of war hanging over them.

  Rachel was sitting with Tony in their newly decorated house in Bacon Street and she looked ill at ease. ‘I know it secures our future, but I just can’t ’elp finkin’, an’ it worries me sick,’ she said.

  Tony tried to dispel her fears. ‘It all depends ’ow yer look at it,’ he replied. ‘Money is just a means to an end. Some people try ter make it their god.’

  Rachel was not convinced. ‘I can’t ’elp finkin’ that money can be tainted.’

  ‘The Galloway money, yer mean,’ Tony said.

  ‘Yeah, the Galloway money,’ Rachel replied quickly. ‘No one in the family died a natural death. It frightens me.’

  ‘Well, I can’t ’ave yer worried, not while yer carryin’ our baby inside yer,’ Tony said quietly.

  ‘Yer mean yer gonna fink about it?’ Rachel asked brightly.

  ‘I’m gonna do more than that,’ Tony said smiling fondly at her. ‘Yer remember me tellin’ yer what that old lady said ter me at the readin’ o’ the will? Well, I’m gonna go an’ see ’er.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘First fing termorrer.’

  Rachel stood up and held out her arms to him. ‘Tony, I’m so pleased,’ she said as he went to her and held her close.

  The day was warm and sunny as the two young people walked hand in hand into the church home for the elderly in Camberwell and were shown into a small office. The sister in charge came into the room and smiled briefly as she sat down at her desk.

  ‘You asked to see a Mrs Nora Flynne?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Tony replied.

  The sister folded her hands on the desk top and leaned forward in her chair. ‘Mrs Flynne died two years ago this September,’ she said quietly.

  Tony and Rachel exchanged glances and the young man frowned as he looked at the sister. ‘I’m sorry. I wish I’d ’ad the opportunity o’ seein’ Mrs Flynne earlier but I was in the services,’ he said.

  The sister smiled kindly. ‘Yes, I know. Mrs Flynne half expected you to come and see her before she died but the war was on. She understood. In fact she left you something.’

  ‘Left me somefing?’ Tony repeated.

  ‘Yes, she left you a letter,’ the sister told him. ‘Nora Flynne asked me to keep this letter in a safe place and give it to you should you call here after her death. If after five years you had not called, then I was instructed to destroy it. One thing I can assure you, though. Mrs Flynne was in sound mind when she died. I know the content of this letter because the lady dictated it to me. I typed it and sealed it in her presence after she had checked it through.’

  Tony and Rachel glanced at each other with puzzled looks as the sister reached down into a drawer and took out a large white envelope.

  ‘I can make a room available to you if you would care to read it here,’ she said smiling.

  ‘That would be very nice, thank you,’ Tony replied.

  The young people were shown into a small room furnished with two chairs and a small table. A large crucifix hung on the wall and there was a picture of Jesus walking among children on the opposite wall.

  ‘Take all the time you need and if you ring that bell when you’re ready to leave, I’ll come to see you out,’ the sister told them.

  In the cool and quiet small room Tony opened the letter and read aloud.

  My time on this earth is drawing to a close and I leave it with no regrets because I will
be going to a far nicer place. You, young man, will have time enough to serve in this world and the fact that you are reading this letter means that you have a good mind. Money is meant for good, but in the hands of the wrong people it corrupts. I know because I’ve seen it happen in my long stay with the Galloway family as their housekeeper. The inheritance is yours but you have a choice to make.

  When your mother, Mary O’Reilly, gave birth to a son, she was attended by my very dear friend Kathy Ryan. At the same time I was attending a poor young thing at her delivery in the very same street. Sad to say, the girl died giving birth. My friend and I met in that gloomy street that evening and I found out that Mary O’Reilly was delivered of a stillborn baby. She was very poorly and was sleeping, unaware that she had lost her child. Here we had two human lives that could be brought together, and for our sins we will have to answer in heaven. That evening Kathy Ryan and I decided that we would take the responsibility upon our heads. You, Tony, were taken from the young waif who bore you and placed beside Mary O’Reilly. She never knew other than that you were her child and she loved you dearly. So you see, you are not a Galloway.