‘Cassie, who’s this Lord Percy you keep talkin’ about lately?’ asked Nellie.
‘I read about ’im,’ said Cassie, ‘’e lives in a castle with four ’undred servants.’
‘’Ow many?’ asked the Gaffer.
‘Yes, and ’e’s got ten motorcars and an ’undred black ’orses an’ carriages. ’E’s goin’ to marry a princess.’
‘What princess?’ asked Nellie.
‘I didn’t read which one it was,’ said Cassie. ‘Here, Tabby.’ She fed a piece of mackerel to the cat, a large piece.
‘Cassie, you just fed ’alf yer supper to Tabby,’ said the Gaffer.
‘Well, ’e likes fish,’ said Cassie, ‘an’ besides, ’e’s courtin’.’
‘’E’s what?’ said Nellie.
‘It’s Mrs Boddy’s lady cat,’ said Cassie, ‘’e’s been out nearly all day with ’er, and it’s made ’im ’ungry.’
‘Why?’ asked Charlie.
‘’Ow do I know?’ said Cassie. ‘I know some things, I don’t know ev’rything. Annie, does courtin’ make ladies blush?’
‘Don’t ask me, I’m not bein’ courted,’ said Annie.
‘Oh, ain’t Will courtin’ yer?’ asked Nellie.
‘He’s married to the Army,’ said Annie. No, blow that, she thought, putting aside depression, I’m not going to let him get away with it. Just wait till Saturday and I see him in the Institute. I’m going to stand up for my rights. I’ve got rights after being kissed till I couldn’t hardly stand up. ‘Cassie, I suppose you read it somewhere, did you, that courtin’ makes ladies blush?’
‘Yes, it was in a story, it said that when the ’andsome explorer kissed Lady Penelope on ’er marble staircase, it made ’er blush all over.’
‘Well, I’m blowed,’ said the Gaffer, ‘a kiss on ’er marble staircase, was it? I don’t ever remember I kissed any lady meself except on ’er dewy lips.’
‘Dewy lips?’ Nellie giggled. ‘Where’d you get that from, Dad?’
‘Well, I do a bit of readin’ meself,’ said the Gaffer.
‘Cassie, ’ow’d yer know Lady Whatsername blushed all over?’ asked Nellie.
‘Wasn’t she wearin’ nothink?’ asked Charlie.
‘Course she was,’ said Cassie, ‘she was wearin’ a ruby velvet gown.’
‘So ’ow’d yer know she blushed all over?’ asked Charlie.
‘It said so. It said – oh, ’elp,’ sighed Cassie, looking down at the cat.
‘What’s up?’ asked the Gaffer.
‘I think Tabby’s just done a wee-wee on the kitchen floor,’ said Cassie.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE HORSE AND cart crossed the junction at Camberwell Green, entered Denmark Hill and pulled up outside the public house that was opposite the shop and offices of Adams Enterprises. Mr Greenberg climbed down, put a nosebag on his horse and crossed the road like a man so careless of his life and limb that a tram driver gave him a full clang of his bell. It was doubtful if Mr Greenberg heard it.
He arrived in Sammy’s office with his hat off, his red handkerchief mopping his distracted brow.
‘Hello, Eli, what’s brought you?’ asked Sammy.
‘Sammy, Sammy, you have ruined me.’
‘First I’ve heard of it,’ said Sammy. ‘Are you speakin’ of bankruptcy?’
‘Vorse, Sammy, vorse, ain’t it?’
‘Is it?’
‘Vasn’t it only yesterday I vas hale and hearty and a free man? A poor man, Sammy, but a free one. Today I am ill and in chains.’
‘Well, I’m up to me ears in work meself, Eli, but sit down and get it all off your chest. I’ve got a feelin’ you’re referring to a highly personal matter concernin’ your private life.’
Mr Greenberg, sighing, sat down and began to recount the sad story of his highly personal and private downfall. In the belief that Sammy’s advice, passed to him by Rachel Goodman, would relieve him of the pressing attentions of the widow, Mrs Hannah Borovich, he received her into his house last night in his shirt, braces and trousers, which itself startled the lady, she being a woman of propriety. Forthwith, as advised, Mr Greenberg laid hands on her like a man of no propriety at all and bore her to the sofa. There, he did what he could to assault her respectable bosom in a way that would convince her to regard him as the daughters of Abraham regarded Lucifer. Calamity occurred. Mrs Borovich flung her arms around him, kissed him and declared herself his willing woman. She further declared that afterwards she would go with him at once to Rabbi Goldstein for the marriage contract to be arranged. Mr Greenberg, aghast, began to struggle. Alas, Mrs Borovich declared herself already fully compromised, for her blouse and corset were gaping, which Mr Greenberg swore to Sammy wasn’t his doing.
Sammy roared with laughter. Mr Greenberg eyed him in sorrow.
‘Ve are not amused, Sammy.’
‘She cooked your goose for you, Eli.’
‘Vhat a schemin’ voman, ain’t it?’ groaned Mr Greenberg.
‘Do you good, old cock,’ said Sammy, ‘seein’ Rachel informed me she’s a handsome lady. You saw the rabbi?’
‘Vhat else could I do, Sammy? Vhat else vould she let me do? Didn’t she herself take me there vithout vunce lettin’ go of me, and didn’t Rabbi Goldstein greet me vith a hundred smiles and shake my hand?’
Sammy said it was a lesson to both of them, that it didn’t matter what kind of a straightforward plan a man thought up, any female woman could put her foot through it and set about turning him upside-down. He himself had been stood on his head by a certain young woman on frequent occasions, despite him being a self-made man of considerable brains. Which proved one thing for certain.
‘Vhat thing?’ asked Mr Greenberg.
‘Blokes never learn, Eli, not even you and me,’ said Sammy. ‘I ought to have remembered that when I put my wheeze to Rachel to pass to you. Now I know why she laughed. She knew what was goin’ to happen, that Mrs Boggervich was goin’ to turn you upside-down. Well, I’ll resign meself to your weddin’, Eli, and hope you’ll invite me and Susie.’
‘Ah, the veddin’,’ said Mr Greenberg, and groaned again. ‘A vife and three growing sons to be my responsibility? The expense, Sammy, the expense.’
‘I feel for you, don’t think I don’t,’ said Sammy. ‘Ruination has already hit all me own pockets. Still, a handsome woman, think of the compensations. And she can cook, I suppose?’
‘Sammy, I should think of food vhen my stomach don’t have any heart left?’
‘Look on the bright side,’ said Sammy.
‘But a vife and three sons, Sammy.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Sammy. ‘There’s a bottle in me sideboard there. Kindly take a nip with me on account of the blessings.’
‘Vell, Sammy, a nip at a sad time like this is a velcome sign of friendship, ain’t it?’
‘Cassie, you ain’t bringing that cat,’ said Freddy. His mum had made some sandwiches for him and Cassie, and supplied an apple each as well. They were going to eat them in Kennington Park.
‘’E’s got to come,’ said Cassie, ‘’e keeps goin’ off with Mrs Boddy’s lady cat. ’E’ll go off with ’er for good one day. She wants ’im to marry ’er.’
‘Oh, he’s said so, ’as ’e?’ said Freddy.
‘Yes, ’e tells me ev’rything,’ said Cassie.
‘Well, ask ’im to tell yer if ’e minds stayin’ behind,’ said Freddy. ‘They won’t let ’im in the park.’
‘I’ll look after him, love,’ said Mrs Brown.
‘Oh, all right,’ said Cassie.
‘I went up the park earlier,’ said Freddy. ‘They said they’d mind me bike when we get there, Cassie, but they said they didn’t want yer cat around, that they’d got orders to chop its ’ead off if yer bring it. So yer’d better let me mum mind it.’
‘Yes, I said all right. ’E likes fish best, Mrs Brown.’
‘I’ll, find him something,’ said Mrs Brown.
Off the boy and girl went, Cassie ridin
g astride a cushion and swinging her legs. Going along Manor Place, she said, ‘Me sister Annie’s been invited to the weddin’.’
‘Yes, but me bruvver Will says she can’t get there till about five,’ said Freddy.
‘I ain’t been invited,’ said Cassie.
‘Well, you can come with ’er, if you like,’ said Freddy. ‘I expect me mum’ll let yer.’ Up Doddington Grove they went, Freddy ringing his bell at kids. ‘Do yer do dancin’?’
‘Course I do,’ said Cassie, dreaming of kings in scarlet and queens in diamonds. ‘Is there goin’ to be photographs?’
‘Susie won’t ’alf get vexed if there ain’t.’
‘I’m ’aving me photo took,’ said Cassie.
‘Who by?’ asked Freddy, totally resigned to having a scatty mate.
‘Mr Po’s’by,’ said Cassie.
‘Is ’e goin’ to charge yer?’ asked Freddy, skirting a slow-moving corporation water-cart.
‘Course not,’ said Cassie. ‘’E likes me, ’e gives me peppermints.’
‘Fancy that,’ said Freddy. ‘’Ere, if you come with yer sister on Saturday, don’t expect me to dance with yer.’
‘I’ll kick yer if you don’t,’ said Cassie.
When they reached the park, a keeper obligingly took care of the bike, and Cassie took care of Freddy. That is, she made him go where she went and she made him carry the shopping bag in which were the wrapped sandwiches and the apples. She also told him to get her a bunch of daffodils. There were beds of them. Freddy said not on your life, his mum didn’t allow him to nick daffodils and his dad would give him a talking-to. Cassie said he didn’t have to nick them, just help himself when the park-keepers weren’t looking. The Queen helped herself to lots of daffodils at Windsor Castle, and the King never told her it was nicking. Freddy said as he didn’t happen to be the Queen, he wasn’t going to help himself. Cassie said he couldn’t be the Queen, anyway, he wasn’t a lady.
‘Thank gawd for that,’ said Freddy. Still, even if she was scatty, she wasn’t such a bad mate, because when it came to eating the sandwiches she let him have two and a half while she only had one and a half. And when he’d eaten his apple, she let him have two bites out of hers, and she also let him have the core, which he crunched to juicy destruction.
A mate like that was quite valuable to a bloke.
‘Here’s all the letters, Boots,’ said Emily that afternoon, and placed the tray on his desk. ‘I’m off now to buy the fam’ly’s Easter eggs.’
He looked up at her, into her green eyes. She was all green eyes and thin face.
‘Good for you, Em. Sure you’re not overdoing things?’
‘I’m fine. And you know me, if I’ve got nothing to do except sit and twiddle me thumbs, I’m not fit to live with.
Behave yourself now, see you at home later.’ Emily kissed him, warmly and affectionately. It left him in a reflective mood, signing the letters without taking too much notice of their contents.
‘I did yer room out today, ’Enry,’ said Mrs Queenie Watts, intercepting her brother as he entered the house in the evening.
‘What for?’ asked Henry Brannigan.
‘Well, you’ve been in a nice and ’elpful mood lately,’ she said, ‘and yer lookin’ lots better.’
‘You don’t need to do me room out, Queenie,’ he said, sure she hadn’t done very much to any of the others. His own room was private to him, anyway.
‘I’d of done yer cupboard out, given it a bit of a tidyin’,’ she said, ‘only yer keep it locked, I notice.’
‘I’ve got personal things in it, mementoes, like.’
‘Oh, about yer poor Matty, of course. Still, I thought I’d give yer room a nice clean-up, and I put a bit of polish on the furniture.’ Actually, she’d just given everything a fuck with her feather duster while nosing around to see if there was anything that would point to him having found a woman.
‘Good of yer, Queenie, but I can manage.’
‘Well, it’s pleasin’ yer not so sorrerful about things,’ said Queenie. ‘You sure you ain’t found someone that’s givin’ you a bit of a lift?’
‘I’ve made a few friends lately.’
‘Well, I’m glad to ’ear it,’ she said, and let him go up to his room. She wondered if there was any money in that cupboard. He got a decent wage and he’d collected from an insurance company when his wife fell out of that train and went to her death, poor woman. Queenie felt she wouldn’t mind a bit of a loan that would pay for her and Stan to have a week in Margate.
* * *
Scotland Yard men were in dogged pursuance of the conviction that the man they were after had been known to the murdered girl and the two still missing. For the two still missing, they had the gravest concern, and at the moment were conducting exhaustive enquiries in and around the respective areas in which the three girls had lived.
Good Friday being a holiday, Susie had a word with Sammy at four o’clock on Thursday afternoon. First, might she leave now to go to certain shops before they closed?
‘You might, Miss Brown, except—’
‘Thank you, Sammy.’ Second, might she point out that when they next met it would be at the altar?’
‘What altar?’
‘Yes, I hope I remember which one too. Sammy, I just want to say thanks for everything, for givin’ me a chance and believin’ in me when I had my first job on your market stall, and for – oh, you know.’
‘What, Susie?’
‘For lovin’ me and askin’ me. I like it, don’t you, Sammy?’
‘Marryin’ each other?’ said Sammy.
‘Yes, it’s such a nice idea,’ smiled Susie, ‘and don’t forget to promise to love, honour and obey.’
‘Me? Me do what?’
‘Yes, it’ll be best that way,’ said Susie. ‘I’ll speak to the vicar.’
‘You Susie—’
‘There’s a good boy. See you Saturday, love.’ Susie kissed him and departed, leaving Sammy floored. She looked in on Boots.
‘Going?’ said Boots, seeing she had her hat on.
‘Yes, to do some quick shoppin’,’ said Susie. ‘Boots, thanks ever so.’
‘What for?’
‘For bein’ on my side all the time.’
‘Orders from above,’ said Boots. ‘Years ago.’
‘Your mum?’
‘Yes. Make sure, she said, that your disreputable brother Sammy puts a ring on Susie’s finger now she’s growing ladylike.’
‘I bet you said that, not your mum.’
‘Same thing. Good luck, Susie.’
‘Em’ly’s all right?’
‘Fine.’
‘It’s rotten about her anaemia. Oh, I’ve got to fly. ‘Bye, Boots.’
Not until ten past five did Sammy remember something he’d forgotten. He wasn’t surprised his brains were failing him. The wedding was only two fateful days away. He opened the top drawer of his desk. It contained four small packages wrapped in white decorative paper. One bore Susie’s name, and the others were for the three bridesmaids, Sally, Rosie and Annabelle. He took out the packets for Susie and Sally, and called Ronnie in. Ronnie arrived briskly at his desk.
‘Got your bike, Ronnie?’
‘You bet, sir.’
‘Good,’ said Sammy. Ronnie could deliver to Susie and Sally, and Boots would take care of the packets for Rosie and Annabelle. He himself would be working late. Well, it was Good Friday tomorrow, the wedding on Saturday and then the honeymoon. ‘I recollect, Ronnie, that you did me a favour last week. You can do me another. Same house. Kindly hand in these packets, and make sure you don’t lose either of ’em. You’ve heard about bein’ buried alive, have you?’
‘That I have, Mister Sammy, and I don’t fancy havin’ it ’appen to me,’ said Ronnie.
‘Well, it will if these don’t get safely delivered. Buzz off in immediate fashion and then go home.’
‘Right, sir,’ said Ronnie. He looked at the names on the packets, and a little grin sho
wed. Off he went, riding his bike at speed along the Walworth Road.
It was Freddy who came to the door this time.
‘Hello,’ said Ronnie, ‘how’s your father?’
‘I’d ask ’im,’ said Freddy, ‘only ’e ain’t ’ome from work yet.’
‘Might I see Miss Sally Brown?’
Freddy turned and shouted.
‘Sally, there’s a bloke wants to see yer!’
Sally came to the door and Freddy left them to it.
‘I know you,’ she said.
‘Am I addressin’ Miss Sally Brown?’ asked Ronnie.
‘Don’t start that again,’ said Sally, ‘or I’ll call me mum to ’elp you put a sock in it.’
‘Would you like me to come in an’ meet her?’ asked Ronnie.
‘You can meet ’er at the weddin’, if you’re really comin’,’ said Sally, ‘and you can ’ave a dance with ’er.’ She saw the two small packets in his hand. Presents had been arriving at intervals. ‘You sure you should’ve asked for me? I mean, are those for Susie? She’s not in yet.’
‘It says Miss Sally Brown on this packet, and I’m deliverin’ it with the compliments of Mr Sammy Adams.’
‘Honest? It’s for me?’
‘He asked me to safeguard it with me life or I’d get buried alive.’
‘Well, I believe that,’ said Sally. She took the packet and saw her name on it. ‘You sure ’e hasn’t made a mistake?’
‘Workin’ as I do with Mr Sammy Adams, I can tell you he doesn’t go in for makin’ mistakes,’ said Ronnie.
‘Well, thanks for bringing this,’ said Sally. He gave her the packet for Susie. ‘An’ for this one as well.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ said Ronnie, ‘a pleasure, yer know.’
‘I don’t want to keep you,’ said Sally.
‘All right, I’ll buzz off now, shall I?’
‘Yes, we’re sort of busy,’ said Sally, wondering what Sammy had sent her, but willing to wait a bit before opening it.
‘Yes, you’ve got the weddin’,’ said Ronnie, ‘so I won’t come in.’
‘No, all right,’ said Sally.
‘So long, then.’
‘So long,’ said Sally.
On Mother Brown's Doorstep Page 24
