A Cuckoo in Candle Lane

by Kitty Neale

  Anxious to get away from all the prying eyes, Elsie held out her hand. ‘Bert, give me the key and let’s get inside.’

  The door squeaked in protest as she pushed it open and stepped into a dank narrow hall. Well, at least it’s clean, she thought, as she slowly wandered from room to room. Of course it wasn’t a patch on her old house, but for the time being at least they would just have to make the best of it. ‘Come on, let’s get our stuff unloaded,’ she said resolutely.

  The evening was drawing in before everything was arranged to Elsie’s satisfaction. She was exhausted, yet there was still the meal to finish cooking. It was only a scratch one of sausages and mash, not their usual Sunday roast, but it would have to do.

  Ann was upstairs unpacking her prized collection of books, Arthur was in the back yard kicking a football about, and Bert was in their bedroom, putting the wardrobe together.

  She looked around at her familiar things that somehow looked out of place in this poky kitchen, then sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs for a much-needed rest. She was tempted to get the cards out; something was nagging at her, plucking at her mind, but would they tell her anything? Had she been put in this dreary place for some special reason? No, she mentally shook herself. She was tired and over-dramatising her feelings – they were here because of Bert’s new business, that was all.

  Snapping out of her reveries, Elsie rose to finish off the dinner, and as she poured thick gravy over the sausages, she called her family to the table.

  ‘I’ve got to take the van back to the yard after dinner,’ Bert mumbled, stuffing a chunk of sausage into his mouth. ‘We’ve got our first big job tomorrow and Frank wants to check it over to make sure everything is running smoothly. We don’t want to take any chances.’

  Elsie tried to smile, but found her lips trembling instead. She pulled out a handkerchief, pretending to blow her nose in an effort to hide her feelings.

  Was it only three months ago that Bert’s mum had died and their lives had changed overnight? The time had flown by. The old lady had left them a bit of money, not a huge amount, but enough for her husband to think about setting up his own business.

  Part of Elsie wished that Bert had stayed with the removals firm he’d been with for over ten years and she sighed, shifting in her chair. Yet she couldn’t deny that everything had fallen into place quite nicely with the new business, especially Frank wanting to come in with him like that. Not that he had much money to offer, she thought. Still, Bert was grateful for his expertise, and she could see that it would be useful to have a motor mechanic on board.

  Her husband had been so excited about starting up his own furniture removals company, and she recalled how delighted he’d been when they found the secondhand van. But how she wished they had been able to find an affordable yard in Wimbledon instead of having to move to Battersea. Now stop it, she sniffed, mentally giving herself a shake and glancing up at her husband. If Bert was willing to take the gamble and throw away ten years of security on this venture, she wasn’t going to stand in his way. No, she’d support him, and offer as much help as she could.

  The first hurdle had been overcome now, but she hadn’t realised how hard it would be to leave the house she had lived in for so many years. Not only would she miss her friends, she also wouldn’t be there to see her pretty garden burst into bloom in the spring. She glanced out of the kitchen window, seeing the drab back yard that was just a concrete patch, and shuddered.

  Bert stood up, his bearlike physique filling the small room. He placed his cap at a jaunty angle on his thick dark hair, smiling at her gently as though sensitive to her feelings. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can, love,’ he said, bending down to kiss the top of her head.

  Elsie sat back in her chair, replete after the makeshift meal, and tried hard to rid herself of the gloomy mood that was casting a dark cloud over her normally cheerful demeanour. Glancing at her children she knew that it was going to be difficult for them to settle in this new area too. Ann and Arthur were sitting quietly, with no sign of their usual bickering. Seeing their long faces, she realised she would have to make an effort for their sakes.

  Drawing a deep breath, she rose stiffly to her feet. ‘Right, let’s get this table cleared,’ she chirped, fighting off her tiredness as she bustled around stacking the empty plates, trying to give an illusion of normality.

  ‘I don’t like it here, and I want to go home. I don’t know anyone around here and I miss my mates!’ her son cried, glaring at her accusingly.

  ‘Arthur, we’ve talked about this and it was all explained to you. This is home now and we’ll just have to make the best of it. Anyway, you’ll soon make friends when you start your new school tomorrow.’

  His bottom lip stuck out belligerently. ‘Well, I hate it!’ he yelled, rushing out and slamming the back door.

  Elsie winced as the glass panes rattled, and it wasn’t long before she heard the sound of his ball thudding repeatedly against the kitchen wall, the noise reverberating in the small room. She rubbed a hand tiredly across her brow as she looked at her daughter. Would it be better here for her, she wondered. God, she hoped so. The kids at her last school had been so cruel and it had taken Ann a long time to deal with the unrelenting name-calling. Now she might well have to start all over again.

  ‘Have you finished unpacking your books, Ann?’ she asked.

  ‘Nearly – I’ve just got a few more to do. I think I’ll go and finish them off now, if that’s all right?’

  Elsie nodded distantly. Had they done the right thing moving here? She wasn’t normally so pessimistic, but she just couldn’t shake off these vague feelings of disquiet.

  Chapter Four

  Sally awoke early. Something had disturbed her, but she was reluctant to open her eyes and let go of her dream. She had been flying, free as a bird, skimming low across the sky with the dawn light casting a glow on the rooftops below. A small smile played across her face as she recalled the joyous feelings of weightlessness that had held her enthralled.

  The sound of a door banging penetrated the thin walls and she heard muffled voices, then laughter. Of course – it was the new neighbours. The house next door had been silent since old Mrs Richardson died and now the unaccustomed noise had woken her.

  I wonder what they’ll be like, she thought, remembering the lady who had stared at her so strangely and the brief glimpse she had had of two children, one of them a girl of about her own age.

  Stretching out, her ears were pricked for sounds of movement from below. The front door slammed and she scrambled across to her window, just in time to see her father striding down the road.

  ‘Mum, can I wear me new coat to school?’ she asked later, gulping the last of her porridge.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. If yer dad catches you wearing it, he’ll go mad.’

  ‘Please, Mum. The other kids are always taking the mickey out of me ’cos I’m so scruffy. I’ll come in ever so quietly, and if Dad’s home I’ll go straight to me room as usual.’

  ‘Well …’ Ruth pondered as Sally widened her eyes in mute appeal. ‘All right then, but please be extra careful,’ she added worriedly.

  Sally leaped to her feet, anxious to get the coat before her mum changed her mind. She rummaged in the back of the cupboard, pulling it from its hiding place and shrugging it on over her old school clothes. Then, grabbing her satchel, she made a dash for the door, running outside to find the Lane suddenly, and almost totally, engulfed in a thick, choking smog.

  It took her ages to get to school. She fumbled along in the grey, eerie atmosphere, only able to see about eighteen inches in front of her face, heart jumping when people occasionally loomed up in front of her, most clutching scarves or handkerchiefs over their faces. At last she reached the main road and could hear the muffled sound of traffic as it crawled slowly along, headlights barely piercing the gloom.

  The bell was clanging when she finally arrived at school, thankfully joining a queue of children in the playgroun
d as they filed into the building.

  The classroom was quiet and she was struggling with maths, her most hated subject, when the door opened and Mrs Brooks came in, followed by a girl who kept her head shyly lowered.

  Sally’s jaw dropped. Was it the girl she had glimpsed yesterday?

  The headmistress handed her over to Miss Penfold and her teacher’s eyes scanned the room before coming to rest on the empty seat beside Sally.

  ‘This is Ann Jones and she is starting school today. I’m going to sit her next to you, Sally. Will you help her to settle in, please?’

  When at last the new girl lifted her face, there was a gasp of surprise and muffled sniggers. One of her eyes was lodged in the corner of the socket and the other appeared to be leaning drunkenly towards it.

  Oh, the poor thing, Sally thought, her feelings of pity deepening when the sniggers in the room rose to loud laughter.

  ‘That is enough!’ Miss Penfold shouted. ‘I will not have this behaviour in my classroom.’

  The room fell silent and heads bent over desks again, with only a slight titter to be heard as Ann took her seat. Sally smiled encouragingly, leaning towards her and placing the arithmetic book between them. She pointed to the section they were working on and heard a whispered, ‘Thanks.’

  For the rest of the morning they worked companionably together, until the dinner bell broke the silence. Then there was a cacophony of noise. Desk lids banged, chairs screeched across the wooden floor, and a stampede of feet rushed for the door, drowning out Miss Penfold’s shout of, ‘Quiet! Quiet!’

  Sally waited, as she usually did, for the classroom to empty. ‘I ’ave school dinners,’ she told Ann who was still sitting quietly beside her. ‘Would you like to come with me?’

  ‘Well, I’d like to, but it would be better if you went on your own,’ she answered doubtfully.

  ‘Oh, why’s that?’

  ‘I always get picked on, and if you’re with me they might start on you too.’

  Sally shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry about me, I get picked on too, yer know.’

  Ann looked puzzled. ‘But you haven’t got anything wrong with you.’

  ‘Huh, they think I’m a right scruff. I get called Spooky and Weirdo too.’

  ‘Spooky? Why do they call you that?’ Ann asked, her eyebrows raised.

  ‘I dunno,’ Sally prevaricated, reluctant to tell her the truth.

  ‘Perhaps you’re psychic, like my mum.’

  ‘Psychic?’ she wrinkled her nose. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Well, she can read the cards, or your palm, and look into your future.’

  ‘No, I ain’t like yer mum then,’ Sally said emphatically. ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Do you really want me to come to the dinner hall with you?’ Ann asked quietly.

  ‘Yeah, of course I do. Anyway, I think we might be next-door neighbours. Did you move into Candle Lane yesterday?’

  It was the start of a friendship that grew as the week progressed, and Ann amazed Sally with her stoicism. She was teased mercilessly in the beginning, but just walked past her tormentors with her head lowered. ‘Ignore them,’ she would say, and after a few days this attitude paid off. Most of the kids grew tired of her lack of reaction, and the name-calling almost petered out.

  Sally found that it worked for her too. The bullying she had suffered was reduced to the occasional jeer from the other side of the road.

  ‘Do you want to come into my house?’ Ann asked hopefully as they made their way home from school on Friday.

  Sally stared at the ground. She had been making excuses all week and realised how lame they sounded. She was desperate to keep Ann’s friendship, but knew that, like other girls in the past, Ann would soon get fed up with a friend who wasn’t allowed out to play.

  With a gentle tug she pulled her to a halt, wondering if she dared confide in her. Ann was a loner too and so far she hadn’t seen her playing outside very often. Would that make a difference? ‘Look,’ she began hesitantly, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  ‘What’s that then?’ Ann asked.

  ‘Well, you might not want to be my friend when you hear it, but it don’t matter. I’m used to it,’ Sally said defensively, kicking a small stone into the road.

  ‘What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I want to be your friend?’

  ‘’Cos I’m not allowed out to play after school,’ she said, holding her breath as she waited for Ann’s reply.

  ‘Crumbs – is that all? I get kept in too if I’m naughty. Never mind, come round tomorrow and I’ll show you my books; you can borrow some if you want.’

  ‘No, no, that’s not it. I can’t come round tomorrow either. I’m never allowed out.’ Tears pricked at Sally’s eyes. ‘Me dad won’t let me.’

  Ann looked at her in surprise. ‘Did you do something really, really naughty then?’

  Sally shook her head. ‘I haven’t done anything. He just makes me stay in me room, out of his way.’

  ‘But why does he do that?’

  ‘I dunno,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders dejectedly.

  With her head tilted to one side and a thoughtful expression on her face, Ann asked, ‘What about when he goes out? Couldn’t you come round to my house then?’

  Sally felt a surge of excitement. Could it work? He would be going to the pub tonight – but would she be able to persuade her mum?

  That evening Ann opened the door with a grin and beckoned her friend inside. Leading her to the kitchen, she said, ‘Mum, this is Sally.’

  Elsie looked at the girl hovering shyly in the doorway. ‘Hello, dear. Come on in,’ she urged.

  Large green eyes gazed back at her and once again Elsie felt that strange tugging sensation. She could see the girl was nervous and tried to put her at ease. ‘Come and sit down, love. It’s nice to meet you at last, and I’m so pleased you and Ann have become friends.’

  Sally took the seat opposite her and Elsie smiled gently, glad to see her shoulders beginning to relax. ‘Do you like jigsaw puzzles?’ she asked, pleased when Sally nodded her head. ‘Here, Ann, why don’t you go and get that new one. It looks really good, and we can all have a go at it.’

  Her tactics worked and for the next half an hour they sat happily fitting the puzzle together. Then when Sally reached into the box, rummaging about for another piece of blue sky, Elsie decided to seize the opportunity and took her hand, turning it palm up and gently unfurling her fingers.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sally asked nervously, trying to pull her hand away.

  ‘It’s all right, don’t be frightened,’ Elsie said. ‘I’m just reading your palm.’

  ‘But I ain’t got no writing on it,’ Sally said, a bewildered expression on her face.

  ‘No, dear, it’s not that sort of reading,’ Elsie told her, trying to stifle a laugh. ‘I just look at the lines on your hand and they tell me things about you.’

  As Elsie gazed at Sally’s palm she was shocked by what she saw. This girl was special and she had rarely seen such lines.

  ‘What can you see then?’ the girl asked curiously.

  Elsie’s heart went out to her. She felt they were destined to meet and there would come a time when Sally would need a lot of guidance, but for now she would have to tread carefully. ‘Well now, let me see. Hmm, your lifeline shows me that you’re strong and healthy and this line here tells me that you’re a clever girl. What do you think of that then?’ she ended with a chuckle, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

  Ann reached across and touched Sally’s arm. ‘Don’t take any notice of my mum. You should hear my dad making fun of her. He calls her an old witch, and if she’s been out shopping, he asks her where she parked her broomstick.’

  ‘Oi, you cheeky moo, that’s enough of your lip,’ Elsie laughed. ‘Anyway, it’s nearly nine o’clock and time you girls were in bed. By the way, Sally, would you ask your mum to pop round one morning for a cup of tea? I’d love to meet her.’

  Sall
y nodded, her head turning quickly as the kitchen door opened.

  ‘Hello you lot,’ Bert called as he walked in, with Arthur trailing behind him. ‘You must be Ann’s new friend from next door,’ he smiled as he stepped towards Sally, startled when the girl backed away nervously.

  ‘It’s all right, love, I don’t bite,’ he told her, his soft voice at odds with his huge build.

  Elsie saw Sally’s reaction and frowned. What was the girl so nervous about? Bert was a gentle giant and wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  ‘Mum, I’m starving,’ Arthur whined, breaking into her thoughts, sniffing loudly and cuffing his nose with the back of his hand.

  ‘How many times have I told you to use a hanky,’ Elsie complained as she bustled over to the bread bin. ‘Right, I’ll make you a sandwich, then it’s off to bed.’

  ‘That’s not fair. Ann’s still up and I’m older than her,’ Arthur complained.

  ‘You’re both going to bed,’ Elsie told him shortly.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Don’t argue with your mother,’ Bert ordered.

  ‘Sorry, Dad, but it’s still not—’

  ‘Goodbye,’ Sally whispered, before Arthur had finished speaking.

  ‘Bye love, see you again,’ Elsie called as she lathered margarine onto thick slices of bread. Does her mother know, she wondered, recalling what she had seen in Sally’s palm. And if not, should I tell her?

  Chapter Five

  Ruth guided her threadbare sheets through the mangle, her mind distracted. She had realised the time would come when Sally would rebel against being confined to her room, but hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

  It had started on Friday evening when she had begged to go next door. When Ruth refused, Sally had bombarded her with questions. Why did she have to stay in her room? Why couldn’t she go to her friend’s house? Why did she have to keep out of her dad’s way?