‘It’s the little matter of pounds, shillings and pence, mate.’
‘Ah.’ Walter sighed. ‘Ain’t no harm in dreaming.’ Then there was one other problem he thought it only fair to point out. ‘It ain’t on the cards right away in any case. I been thinking, Rob. I ought to join up.’
Robert’s mood switched in an instant. ‘Enlisting?’ He tried not to give away his own doubts and fears.
‘I think I ought.’ Lord Kitchener’s face with its black moustache and piercing eyes had begun to appear on posters. The finger of accusation pointed at those who still thought to let others lay down life and limb for their country, but not themselves. Walter had too much pride to resist the call for long. ‘I ain’t keen on aiming at the Hun down the barrel of a gun, don’t get me wrong. I ain’t one for all that. But I’m fit and strong, Rob, and it don’t seem right to hold back no more. This jamboree’s going on longer than they thought, ain’t it? If I join up straight off, do my bit and come home a hero, there’ll be a job waiting for me at the end of the line, won’t there?’ He attempted a confident grin. ‘Then we can start saving for that taxi.’
Robert found it hard to look him in the face. ‘Good for you, mate.’ He shut out the mental pictures of mangled bodies, blank terror, the insanity of slaughter for ten yards of mud.
‘I’m off up the Town Hall on Monday morning,’ Walter promised. ‘Then you won’t have one up on me no more.’
‘Well, drink up,’ Rob said. ‘It’s on the house.’ Awkwardly he took the two glasses by hooking his thumb through both handles and dangling them from one crutch.
Duke served the beer and looked straight at his son. ‘You sit down, mate. I’ll get Joxer to fetch them across.’ The cellarman had reported for duty as usual the minute Chalky had been taken into police custody. He said nothing as he buttoned his waistcoat and left the gym, and he didn’t intend to discuss things thereafter. He knew he had a job for life with Duke, and they’d each mind their own business. His face was expressionless as he brought Robert the two pints of beer.
Duke stood happily behind the bar, back in charge, his old, unflappable self. With Ernie at home and enjoying the limelight for once in his life, he felt that nothing could dent his sense of all being right with the world; not earthquake nor calamity nor war. Thanks to family and friends, he added to himself.
He sent extra drinks over to Frances and her friends, Billy and Rosie. Even Frances had let her hair down and sat there having a good time like the rest of them. She was human, after all, in spite of all that nonsense about the suffragettes.
Billy was in the middle of telling them how the Workers’ Education Movement was putting its shoulder behind the war effort, especially as far as women were concerned. ‘Just like Mrs Pankhurst and the suffragettes,’ he said. ‘We gotta unite against the common enemy.’ The women’s movement had ceased hostilities against the government; no more window-smashing or burning of post-boxes. And since women were beginning to form the nation’s workforce – on the buses, in the factories, out in the fields – the Workers’ Education people were putting together leaflets and holding classes especially for their benefit.
‘Talking of workforces,’ Rosie said, standing up and preparing to go. She gathered her cloak around her nurse’s uniform and put on her gloves. ‘My night shift starts in half an hour.’ She bent to kiss Frances on the cheek and told her to give her love to Ernie.
So Frances was left sitting face to face with Billy Wray. She told him how the chief pharmacist, a married man, had just joined up. ‘That leaves me in charge.’
‘About time too.’ He said he had great faith in her abilities. ‘You got the right frame of mind,’ he told her. ‘Very particular in everything.’
‘A fusspot, you mean?’ She blushed, feeling a strong urge to throw off her finicky spinster image.
‘Very precise. Very neat.’
‘Oh Lord, Billy, don’t I wish I weren’t sometimes!’ She confessed she wouldn’t mind a bit of Dolly’s free-and-easiness, a touch of young Sadie’s rebellious high spirits. ‘It ain’t that much fun being the responsible one, day in, day out.’
Billy smiled at her. ‘It don’t mean to say that’s all there is to you.’ He paid her the compliment of implying a hidden depth and intensity to her character, calling to mind their one stolen kiss under the watchful bound volumes of Ruskin and Sidney Webb.
It was too soon for him to make any move. He wanted to do the decent thing by Ada’s memory for a start. And he was no moonstruck youth. He had just enough confidence in himself to realize that Frances was playing the same waiting game; observing convention and biding her time. She for her part was no mere flighty girl.
Frances sighed. ‘Sometimes it does take a catastrophe to pull out the best in us, like they say. I mean, it’s the war that’ll give me the chance I want in the pharmacy. And it was the trouble over Ernie that pulled me and Pa back on to the same side, acting as a family again. And take Jess over there; having the baby really proved her mettle. There’s times we’d all have given up over Ernie if it hadn’t been for her, I don’t mind telling you. It’s funny, she’s my sister, but I don’t think I ever really knew her till now.’
Billy liked to hear these things. An only child himself, he envied her her large family. ‘Jess should count herself lucky and all,’ he reminded her. ‘She ain’t never gonna be on her own.’
A sudden gust of cold air and an influx of women from the market and from Coopers’ turned the tide of conversation. The pianola thumped out another tune, second nature to Hettie from her days at the Palace. Liz Sargent encouraged her to sing up. Little Lettie Harris Jumped in to do the Huggie Bear with Sam the leather worker.
‘Nothing like a good knees up.’ Nora Brady sidled up to Robert. ‘Just what the doctor orders.’ She picked up her skirts and made him do away with his crutch. Then they swayed along to the music, arms around each other’s waists.
‘What’s your old man gonna say, Nora?’ Rob asked, his good humour restored. He pulled Ernie to his feet and made him link up with Nora’s free arm. ‘Now you’ve got two new beaux?’
‘He ain’t gonna say nothing,’ came the bold answer. ‘Not when he’s banged up in Parkhurst for six months, now, is he?’ She laughed like a drain. ‘While the cat’s away, you know the rest!’ And she took Ernie by both shoulders to give him lessons in the latest American dance craze.
The noise rose as the evening got into full swing. The dreary tenements at the bottom of Paradise Court spilled out their occupants, and the poor but respectable terraced houses emptied in turn. Older children were left to care for infants and little ones. Keys turned in locks. Even the penniless unemployed turned out tonight to call in at the Duke and help Ernie celebrate.
‘Annie, you don’t half look a treat!’ Nora shrieked at the late arrival. The music played on, the bar was alive with bright lights, curling smoke, reflections in mirrors, the clink of glasses. There was the uproar of competing conversations.
Annie had lingered in front of her own glass, making a special effort. She’d been in and out of first this blouse, then that. Finally she’d chosen a smart one of shiny green and white striped poplin. She arranged her hair in softer, more flattering folds, put rouge on her cheeks, then scrubbed it off again. At last she set off for the pub.
Robert Parsons gave a cheeky whistle, Liz passed by with a nod of approval. Annie crept nervously towards the bar.
‘Blow me!’ Florrie said in a voice laden with sarcasm. ‘Look what the wind blew in!’
‘I see you’re done up like a dog’s dinner as usual, Florence.’ Annie didn’t wait for the full force of Florrie’s scorn to land on her before she returned the insult. ‘I keep on telling you, girl, but you ain’t got the sense you was born with. Them magenta ribbons ain’t you at all. And I should tone down the black dye a bit and all, if I was you. In fact, I’d say it was high time you gave in gracefully.’
‘Who asked you, Annie Wiggin? Any rate, this ain’t magenta, it
’s scarlet!’ Florrie took the bait as usual. She rushed across to serve Annie so that Duke didn’t need to stir himself. As she pushed the porter towards her, she leaned over the counter and her eyes popped. ‘Blimey, Annie!’ She clutched the bar for support. ‘I think I must be seeing things!’
‘Very funny, ha, ha!’ Annie began to beat a retreat, but Nora too broke off dancing and came and seized her by the arm.
‘Do you mean what I think you mean?’ Nora said to Florrie. She gazed down at Annie’s feet. ‘Or is our eyes deceiving us?’ She fluttered back into someone’s arms, as if in a faint.
‘Very funny, very funny!’ Annie grumbled. She wished now she hadn’t taken the plunge in such public fashion. It was true; she’d bought herself a pair of brand new boots.
‘My, but they’re a pair of bobby dazzlers.’ A group led by Nora gathered round, to Florrie’s satisfaction. The boots were black and pointed, with neat raised heels and dainty scalloped edges where the laces threaded through. They were immaculate.
But if they thought they could get one over on her, they’d another think coming, Annie told herself. ‘So what? Ain’t you never seen a new pair of boots before?’
‘Not on you, Annie, no.’ Florrie’s tone kept up the derisory note. ‘You mean to say you finally thrown over the memory of old man Wiggin after all these years?’ She arched her eyebrows in the direction of Duke, but her brother stolidly refused to join in the taunting of Annie.
Annie gathered herself. She felt ladylike in her new boots, and well above Florrie’s low aim. They gave her movements new snap and vigour. ‘As a matter of fact, yes, Florrie. I thought it was time I laid his old boots to rest along with him, God rest his soul. Me and Duke’s been in mourning long enough, ain’t we, Duke? We think it’s time to liven things up.’
Florrie gasped at Annie’s audacity, and was even more surprised when Duke seemed to happily concur in the use of the first person plural. Annie evidently wasn’t using ‘we’ in the royal sense.
Duke smiled awkwardly and came out from behind the bar. He felt himself moved by a sense of destiny. ‘I see you took my advice about them old boots, Annie!’ He took her by the arm and led her to a seat in a corner.
Annie retaliated as of old. ‘Ain’t nothing to do with your advice, Duke. I spotted these down the market. They was too good a bargain to miss.’
The hum of celebration continued all around them; the soaring girls’ voices, the lively conversation, an outbreak of laughter. ‘Too good to miss, eh?’ Duke said meditatively.
‘Yes, some things are too good to pass by.’ Suddenly Annie’s voice dropped. She realized that neither of them were talking about boots any more.
‘That’s it, we’d be fools to pass by certain things in this life.’ He signed. ‘I’d go a long way before I found a friend like you, Annie.’ He took her hands in his own large, work-worn ones.
She struggled to reply. ‘Now, don’t you go all soft on me, Duke Parsons. Just ‘cos I bought myself a new pair of boots.’
He cleared his throat, ‘Annie Wiggin, I think you and me should get spliced!’ It was hasty, he knew.
‘Blow me down!’ was Annie’s reply.
‘Come on, Annie, you can’t kid me you never knew what I was leading up to!’ he protested She’d gone coy on him.
‘I never! You could knock me down with a feather!’ Her heart fluttered. Her hands still rested in Duke’s.
‘Well?’
‘I thought you’d never ask!’ she answered at last, her face radiant. ‘Blimey, Duke, you certainly took your time!’
Duke and Annie stood up and linked arms, then went across to the table where Jess and Maurice sat in self-conscious conversation. He held up his hands for quiet.
‘Now as you know, I ain’t one for public speaking,’ he began. His voice rumbled into the newly created silence. He gestured for Ernie to draw near. ‘You’re all friends here, not just customers. We grown up and we grown old together, some of us.’ He had a tone of deep tenderness, his arms around Ernie’s shoulder. ‘So I don’t have to tell no one here what it means to have Ernie back home.’
A cheer went up for Ernie, and an outburst of applause. Once more, Duke put up his hand.
‘Without you we’d never have come through this like we have, still in one piece, and we ain’t never gonna forget what we owe you, as long as we live.’
Sadie, standing at the pianola with Tommy and Amy, sighed happily. Hettie stood proud and smiling by the door. Frances squeezed Billy’s hand. Robert stood shoulder to shoulder with Walter, while Jess hung on to Maurice’s arm.
Duke took up the thread, his voice thickened with emotion. ‘Now, I aim to do this whole thing right and make it a home-coming to remember.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Ernie, I got one more bit of news for you. Frank Henshaw sent word he wants you back at work on Monday, eight o’clock sharp.’
Ernie nodded. The last shred of doubt about his future fell away.
‘And more than that. Jess here, and Maurice have asked me to announce their news.’ Duke raised her up to stand alongside him. ‘They asked me to tell you they plan on tying the knot just as soon as they can.’
A buzz passed round the room, then another cheer.
Duke continued. ‘We ain’t known Maurice long, but we say welcome to the Parsons family.’ He turned to shake his prospective son-in-law vigorously by the hand. ‘As long as you think you can put up with us, that is.’
Maurice grinned sheepishly and put an arm round Jess’s shoulder. ‘You mean I’m stuck with the lot of you?’ He had no qualms now. Once he’d decided, he went ahead. He was already talking of finding bigger lodgings down the court, or nearby on Duke Street, so Jess and Grace would still be on the doorstep. He’d approached his employer for a rise in wages, describing his plans to marry and settle down. He’d been offered more money in return for helping to set up another new cinema down the road in Dulwich.
Jess basked in the contentment spreading through the room. She was the luckiest woman alive, with Maurice and Grace, the one to pour her hidden passion upon, the other on whom she could dote so tenderly. She felt like a passenger rescued from the wreck of the great Titanic; she’d kept her head in the icy waters and climbed into a lifeboat with those she loved. She reached out and kissed her father, then Ernie, then Maurice.
But Duke hadn’t reached the end of his own long, unaccustomed journey into speechifying. ‘Now, girls,’ he said to no one in particular, ‘I expect you’re all thinking of buying a new hat for Jess’s wedding, and I ain’t one to force you into no unnecessary expense.’ He paused to look round and clutch hold of Annie’s hand. ‘So Annie and me, we thought we’d better make it worth your while and follow up with a wedding of our own. No need to buy another hat, see, Dolly. You can wear the same one to both!’
Annie stood beside him, looking small and spry, like a preening bird. She dipped her head and looked sideways up at him, then stared straight at Florrie with a new sense of territory. Her head went back, her chest out. Until this moment she hadn’t really believed in Duke’s proposal. His announcement of it had stunned everyone in the room. Well, that was one in the eye for his sister, Annie thought with undisguised triumph.
Florrie shook her head as if a bee had landed on her nose. Of all the foolish things. After all these years. Annie Wiggin, of all people. She couldn’t pull one sensible thought together. Then it came with startling clarity; Annie had wormed her way under Duke’s guard and into his affections when he was at his lowest point over Ernie. Of course, that was how she’d managed it. Otherwise, how could it be explained?
There was not a single thing about Annie that cut her out from the common crowd of middle-aged women whose husbands ran off and left them in the lurch. She was no beauty, that was certain; thin as a whippet, all skin and bone, and her mouth needed a permanent muzzle. No, it wasn’t romance that had drawn Duke in her direction. She’d just wormed her way in, out of spite against Florrie.
But if she thought Florrie
would pack her bags and toddle meekly back to Brighton, she was making a big mistake. She, Florrie, was made of sterner stuff, and there was many a slip between this moment and, ‘Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?’ Florrie chuntered on to herself. She had of course turned down umpteen decent offers in her own time. It was the only dignified course for women in their situation.
Still, congratulations for both couples poured in. ‘I ain’t gotta call you Ma, have I?’ Robert winked at Annie.
‘You do and I’ll knock your block off,’ she said.
‘I see marriage ain’t gonna soften you up none,’ Arthur Ogden observed. ‘Not that it does in most cases, if you ask me.’ He looked ruefully at Dolly.
‘It ain’t gonna change nothing,’ Annie insisted. ‘I’ll run my stall of bits and bobs, and Duke will run this place like before. We ain’t gonna live in each other’s pockets, don’t you worry.’
The men slapped Duke on the back, bought him drinks and admired his nerve.
‘Well, we’re living in dangerous times,’ he told them. ‘It makes a man feel reckless, don’t it?’
Hettie, Frances and Sadie came across to complete the family group. The Parsons were back together and the heart had been restored to Duke Street and Paradise Court, They might have been posing for a picture as the music struck up. They stood, arms intertwined, a fading photograph in an album, seen through a haze of smoke, features already beginning to blur. They held position for a moment in time, in harmony, completely happy.
Copyright
First published in 1995 by Macmillan
This edition published 2014 by Bello
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
Paradise Court Page 37
