33 East

by Susannah Rickards

  ‘Nuh,’ said Ashley.

  ‘You was only small.’

  Now she’d begun, Kerry went on describing all the others like him, leaping to preserve Ashley’s treasurable life. Pig-thick of him to imagine his action had made him unique.

  As Ashley rocked, a bull terrier appeared from behind the settee and trotted to the empty bowl. It yapped at Kerry.

  ‘Tough,’ she told it. ‘Ain’t got none. You’ll have to wait.’

  Greg walked past them into the hall. The sack of dog biscuits he’d brought as an excuse to call was still by the front door. He carried it through. Kerry was on the sofa now, embracing Ashley, and the terrier was up on the cushions with them, snouting at Ashley’s hair.

  Greg opened the bag and shook some biscuits free. The dog jumped on them, the choppy exertions of his tail a frantic mimic of Ashley’s rocking.

  ‘What you’ll find,’ said Greg, ‘is that this is comprehensive life assurance for your pet in pellet form. Health. Vitality. Balance. Ultimate satisfaction everyday.’

  The words came easily. He explained how the simple daily discipline of selecting this food from the bewildering array of inferior choices available in today’s supermarkets would enable them as owners to get the most from their dog and would benefit their pet throughout his days. His spiel had never run so smoothly. When he’d finished Greg set the sack beside the door, and though they had their backs to him he bowed. Coming back up to standing, his body felt solid, as though he inhabited it once again, after a long period of it standing vacant. He’d found her. He’d provided this small service. He could leave now and he’d be OK.

  BARKING & DAGENHAM

  Unfinished Business

  Martin Machado

  ‘I, Mary Geraldine Sumpter, being of sound mind, request Mr Hertzberg – or whoever replaces him in the event of him pre-deceasing me – to read out this, my last will and testament, in the presence of those expressly summoned hereto.

  I leave the proceeds of my Prudential Life Insurance Policy to my three daughters: Mrs Jennifer Elliot, Mrs Pauline Thompson and Mrs Julie Anderson. The final amount is to be divided equally by Mr Hertzberg who I have requested to administer this process. The related papers are in his keeping.

  To my two Grandsons, Master David Thompson and Master Frank Anderson, who I love dearly, I leave what remains of Mr Gerald Anthony Sumpter’s earthly possessions and the sum of £1000 each. Again, this will be administered by Mr Hertzberg who has access to the relevant bank account and records.

  To Miss Claire Anderson I leave the sum of £1000 in trust. This will be held in the form of bonds until such time as it is needed or she reaches the age of 18 years old. The office of Mr Hertzberg will administer these bonds until such time and/or representation is made by Miss Claire Anderson’s parents.

  To Miss Paulette James I leave my gold rose-petal broach and Grandad’s Chinese rice bowl. Please cherish it – he wanted you to have it. As you know it was with him when he was a Japanese prisoner of war. I also leave you the sum of £1000. This will be administered by Mr Hertzberg who has access to the relevant bank account.

  To Mr Damien Walsh I leave my thanks and appreciation for many years of favours and putting up with a miserable old lady. I also leave the Garage 17f, Rainham Road South RM10 8YP and the contents therein. I hope you enjoy yourself, you deserve it. Thank you a million times for all you have done for me and my family.

  To my dear friend Mrs Gertrude Mathews: dry your eyes love, I am in a better place. I leave you my love as always, as well as all the items currently located on my mantelpiece at home, I know you will enjoy them as much as I have. I also leave you my silver ball gown for old times’ sake. In addition Mr Hertzberg will consult with you regarding a different matter after today is over.

  To Mr Tony Elliot I leave the portrait of my late husband, Mr Gerald Anthony Sumpter. This is located above my mantelpiece at home. Tony, I want you to take a good long look at the picture so you can know what a real man looks like. I regret the day my daughter married you. You have brought her nothing but grief. I hope she finds the nerve to divorce you. To Mr Tony Elliot I have nothing further to say but that the truth will come out. You can’t keep your dirty secrets forever.

  The remainder of my earthly goods, including my property located at number 22 Warley Avenue, Dagenham RM8 1JU and all remaining sums of monies currently in my bank and building society accounts, I leave to my granddaughter, Miss Janet Sumpter.

  Janet, you are to listen to the advice of Mr Hertzberg. He has been a good friend to the family over the years and he helped your Grandad when he needed it. So I trust he will do well by you (he’s got me to answer to if he doesn’t). If he’s reading this out then you know he’s got a good nature and he is not as bad as he looks.

  You are not to listen to anything your Auntie, Pauline Thompson, has to say on this matter. I know Julie and Jennifer will honour my wishes. It is for the best. I don’t wish you to sell the house until you are at least 25 years old. I expect you to go to college and university and make a life for yourself – you deserve it. Damien will help you with anything you need doing and Gertie Mathews can tell you why I am doing this. So be strong girl. What was it they use to tell you at school? “Every woman has just so much time to live and she can use it or waste it as she wills.”

  Pauline, I am sorry to have to say this but you are to leave Janet alone to let her get on with her life as you get on with yours. I hope you can be happy with the money. Jennifer, I only wish I could have been of more help to you love but I know you are strong enough alone. I hope you find peace and contentment. Julie, I know you will be ok whatever you decide to do. I love you all and wish you the best in what you do. God bless and keep you.’

  At 18 years old, Janet Sumpter had a very youthful appearance, but was more like a mature woman in a younger body. She had shoulder length brown hair and was about 5ft 9ins with a slight, athletic frame. She gave off a blank expression that many mistook for a serious air, maybe slightly aloof. From a distance she appeared confident. Men took this as a challenge; women she didn’t know tended to see her as a threat.

  For as long as she could remember, early morning had been Janet’s favourite time of day. In Dagenham, when the sun was shining and the air crisp, she would come alive and go for runs on Beacontree Heath. She felt her body warm up and become animated as she stretched and pulled her muscles, her tendons resisting and then finally bending under the pressure of her gentle but firm manipulations. This was a secret pleasure for her. I suppose we always enjoy what we truly control. And for Janet this was 100 per cent her. No-one forced her to run. For that matter no-one encouraged her to run either.

  Throughout her school days Janet found Dagenham to be a gloriously down to earth place. She had an epiphany once during a PE lesson. Running was liberating, and even fun. In fact, this liberating experience was the main thing that she enjoyed at school. Her memories of Bob Clack Comprehensive, which she attended until she was 16, were vivid. She had the good times spent with her mates, but more important than anything she had learnt that she enjoyed running. Janet was able to look at life as a race. If she didn’t like a particular situation she found herself in, her response was to put as much distance as possible between herself and the problem so that she could get on with what she needed to do.

  One spring morning all the girls from form 5GD lined up for the cross-country run during PE. Janet had managed to get out of the three previous figure eights and cross-country runs. It was amazing what you could get away with by saying you had some cramps. That morning she had forgotten all about the cross-country run. She had been having such a great time talking about what was on TV the night before. By the time she twigged that it was cross-country she was already changed into her PE kit. She tried to fake a stomach cramp but Mr Bolton was onto her like a flash. Ninety minutes later she would never be the same person again.

  When she got older the more Janet saw of life the more she thought of life in Dagenham a
s growing up in a different time. Her family didn’t have much to speak of. All the families she knew were the same. Back then all of the families down her street were white, British and working class. You see Barking and Dagenham was the former industrial heartland of London. Back then it was a bleak place where East End gangsters lived and relived the glory days of the Krays and the other gangland players. But for Janet, it was the people that made Dagenham worthwhile. For the people that lived there, Dagenham was a village or a small town, not a small part of a great metropolis. The characters that you met on the high street or in the shops made Barking and Dagenham what it was back then and they still make it what it is today. Once you were accepted you felt a part of something tangible and worth preserving.

  After Grandma Sumpter died, all the members of the Sumpter clan got a letter from the offices of Jonathan Hertzberg MA LLB NP: Janet’s mother Jennifer, her husband Tony and her two sisters Pauline and Julie, Janet’s sister Paulette, and her cousins David, Claire and Frank. When they got to the solicitor’s office Damien Walsh, a friend of the family, and Mrs Gertie Mathews, Gran’s best friend, were also there waiting. Grandma Sumpter had it all worked out. Turns out Mr Hertzberg and Grandma Sumpter went back years. He had been a junior at the law firm when young Mr and Mrs Sumpter bought their house. Back then he was a spotty clerk and Mrs Sumpter was a beautiful young married woman. It turns out there was a lot about Grandma Sumpter that the family didn’t know.

  Mr Hertzberg cleared his throat once everyone had found a seat. While they were making themselves comfortable he studied the assembled group. He felt he knew each person well, which of course he did thanks to the intimate nature of the conversations he had conducted with Mrs Sumpter over the years. However this was the first time he had met them face to face.

  Mr Hertzberg felt very old, especially at times like this. Mrs Sumpter who had died at 84 years of age, was one of the few remaining people who knew him from day one. It amazed him how much Janet Sumpter and Mrs Sumpter were alike, not just in features but in mannerism and posture as well.

  Mr Hertzberg wore a classic pinstriped suit, tailored with the kind of detail you would expect from a Saville Row bespoke tailor. It was a very elegant suit that fitted the man well and the room he was in. Mr Hertzberg didn’t come across as the handsome type. He didn’t have chiselled good looks. His eyes were stern headmaster’s eyes that penetrated the subject and looked deep into the person. He had used these tools of the trade to good effect over the years.

  After the will reading was over Mr Hertzberg quietly made an appointment with Janet Sumpter. He suggested that she returned in two weeks’ time to finalise matters. Afterwards the family headed back to Janet’s mother’s home. There was silence in all the cars as they headed back. Janet’s mum, Jennifer, went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then thought better of it and took out a half empty bottle a vodka and tray of ice from the freezer. Julie and Tony walked in together. They watched Jennifer drain the contents of the glass in her hand, then they all waited quietly, looking like three rabbits caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Julie’s husband, Peter, was the next to arrive with Janet and the kids. When the front door slammed all hell broke loose. Pauline was on a full rampage; she was f’ing and blinding left right and centre. But Julie and Jennifer stuck to their guns and said they were going to honour their mother’s wishes. Janet ended up walking out and staying at a friend’s house.

  Two weeks later, when Janet went to meet her Grandma’s solicitor, Mr Hertzberg outlined the discussions that had taken place between the late Mrs Sumpter and himself. Janet soon realised that her Grandma had trusted Mr Hertzberg a great deal and she decided that she was going to do the same. Mr Hertzberg had a plan of action. As soon as Janet showed willing he set everything in motion.

  Janet missed her Grandma dearly. Somehow, speaking with Mr Hertzberg was comforting. Mr Hertzberg suggested that Janet wait until she was 21 before she did anything radical with the house or the money. He then talked her through a full plan of how she could make the most of the opportunity the house presented. Mr Hertzberg said the money that she had was not much of a nest egg but it was a good enough start. Janet agreed to his suggestions.

  It wasn’t long before Janet was introduced to a man called Mr Singh. Mr Hertzberg had known him for more than 30 years and knew that he was the person that could help Janet with her situation. Mr Maya Singh was the first non-white person Janet had ever had a conversation with. Together with Mr Hertzberg they had viewed three flats in the local area; she now sat with him by her side as she listened attentively to what Mr Maya Singh had to say. By the end of the meeting Janet had signed an agreement to rent out her Gran’s house with Mr Singh’s letting agency guaranteeing rent for three years. Mr Singh had also helped her complete a mortgage application for the second flat that she had seen that day.

  After six weeks she had the keys to her new place and she moved in. There she was, 18 years old, with a house with no mortgage that was rented out. The rent payed the mortgage on the flat she lived in and gave her a monthly income that more than met her needs.

  Mr Hertzberg’s next idea was for her to go to university. She didn’t see how that was going to work because her grades had been bad. But true to form, she found herself in another meeting discussing her grades with Mr Hertzberg right by her side. He organised for her to redo her Maths and English GCSEs at a private college over the summer. She followed this with a one year Access course for her degree in business and finance. The subject of her degree was Mr Hertzberg’s decision. When he had asked her what she wanted to do she had said, ‘I don’t know’ he had looked at her strangely. ‘Are you sure you’re related to Mary Sumpter?’ was his only comment.

  The next time Mr Hertzberg asked Janet the same question she had completed her Access course successfully and secured a place at the East London University. Janet spoke with such confidence that it made Mr Hertzberg smile.

  ‘Business, I want to go into business for myself.’

  ‘Ok, what kind of business do you want to get into,’ he said.

  Without skipping a beat Janet said, ‘the property business’.

  By the time Janet finished university with a 2.1 in Business and Finance she had nine properties in her portfolio all rented out courtesy of Mr Maya Singh, as well as her flat and her Gran’s house. She was only 22. By the time she celebrated her 25th birthday she had a portfolio worth over £3m.

  Janet watched Dagenham grow into a truly diverse community. With the regeneration money that was pumped into the borough things just kept improving. Damien Walsh had done some work for her on some of the houses. He kept her in touch with everything that was happening with her family.

  She met her mum for the first time after four years at the funeral of Mrs Gertrude Mathews. They sat down in a cafe after the service. Jennifer was full of questions. ‘So, how have things been with you Janet. I’ve missed you. Why haven’t you been in touch with me all this time?’

  ‘Mum, you know how Auntie Pauline was,’ said Janet. ‘It was never-ending. Her only agenda was to get the house from me. I just couldn’t take it any more so I just decided that I needed to get on with my life, which is what Gran wanted.’

  ‘I see. But do you know that your sister had a baby and me and Tony got divorced,’ said Jennifer.

  ‘I heard about the baby but not about your divorce. I heard Tony walked out, but no, not about the divorce. What did Paulette have, a boy or girl?’

  ‘She had a boy. Don’t you care about the fact that I had a divorce?’

  ‘I reckon that it was about time. Gran said you should have divorced him in her will. I don’t know why you stayed married to him for so long,’ Janet retorted.

  ‘You could show some sympathy.’

  ‘Not when it involves Tony.’

  ‘Damien tells me that you are doing alright for yourself.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Don’t you know the state the family is in?�
�� Jennifer asked. ‘Don’t you know what happened to Auntie Pauline last year and Auntie Julie and the kids? Have you not heard about their situation?’

  ‘No, I don’t know what happened to anybody. I’ve just been getting on with my life. No-one has been in touch with me to let me know anything that is going on,’ said Janet. ‘Listen Mum, I never asked Gran to leave me the house. We never ever had any conversations about it. All the stuff that Auntie Pauline is saying, that I convinced Gran to leave me the house before she died is nonsense. You do believe me don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I know it’s nonsense. She was my mum you know. Me and Julie know that what Pauline is saying doesn’t hold water. You shouldn’t worry about things. That’s just Pauline trying to get her own way. She’s always been a spoilt brat.’

  ‘Do you want to know why I think Gran left me the house?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Me and Gran had an understanding. We never talked about things openly. But she always knew what was happening. She had a way of guessing things and letting me know that she knew. You know how she was.’

  ‘Yes, go on, what did she find out?’

  At this point, tears welled up in Janet’s eyes as she looked into her mum’s face for any clues about what she knew. But Jennifer only stared blankly at her daughter waiting in anticipation for what Janet had to say.

  ‘Well it going to sound weird but it’s Gertie who filled in the blanks for me. I went to see her a few times after Gran’s will reading. You know that Gran had organised for her and Mr Mathews to go on a cruise as well as to have the stuff on her mantelpiece? Well, the first time I saw her, she was all excited. Turns out they had been saving for a cruise for 10 years but had to use the money a few times. Mr Mathews had to wait for the OK from the doctor’s, due to his heart condition. The day I went around to see her. The doctor had called in the morning giving the OK. They had called and told Mr Hertzberg, which, apparently was the arrangement they had. When I got there Gertie was on the phone to him – he had called to tell them that their passage was booked on the cruise leaving in a week’s time. Well I didn’t get much sense out of her then but she made me promise to come and see her when she and Mr Mathews got back.’