by Carol Rivers
Everyone burst into laughter once again. The racket soon drew the attention of the men.
'What's going on in there?' Bert hollered from the yard.
Flo stuck out her tongue and shrieked, 'Never you mind!'
Lizzie raised her glass. 'To 1935,' she toasted. 'And the new year.'
'To the lovebirds Jenny and Bert,' called Flo.
'To those not here with us,' said Ethel wistfully.
'And to a bloody good knees-up tonight,' Flo jested. 'I want to wake up tomorrow with a well-deserved headache as well as my old man snoring beside me.'
At which point, Nelson appeared in the kitchen, dragging his nappy after him. Clutching his privates, he called out, 'See what a big willie I got!'
After which, there were hysterics second to none, echoing throughout the whole household.
Chapter 25
'Auntie Lizzie!' Polly shouted above the noise of the party. 'Can I go and out to play?'
She was addressing Lizzie who was standing at the piano singing a duet with her Uncle Sydney. Polly was bored. All afternoon the adults had been trotting out the old numbers. The two boys had fallen asleep under the table, stuffed full of salt beef sandwiches and Christmas cake.
'What's that, monkey?' Lizzie bent down to slide an arm around her shoulders.
'I said, can I go out? My friends are playing in the street.'
'It will be dark soon.'
Polly missed Tom. He was the only one she really wanted to see on Christmas Day. Tom wasn't old enough to come on his own to Langley Street or visit the shop either. Mrs Williams, who had been Uncle Danny's landlady, disapproved of Uncle Danny and Tom coming here. She knew that because Tom had told her at school.
It seemed to Polly as though everyone she liked the most was absent. Uncle Frank wasn't welcome at Auntie Flo's either. Uncle Frank always made her laugh. But today he had gone to Granda's instead. So now she was on her own, while all her friends were outside.
Polly had got quite used to being around grown-ups all the time. She liked the customers at the shop and the two new men who helped Uncle Bert. One was called Maurice. He was short and had a long black beard. He did have nice white teeth, though, and he liked to talk a lot as he pushed the broom around the floor. The other was Ron, who was as tall and lean as a stick. Polly liked the way he smiled, for he had very few teeth and he pulled a funny face. But she had hoped today, Christmas Day, Tom would suddenly appear with his dad. And Uncle Danny would look at Auntie Lizzie like he used to. A special sort of feeling would fill the room that made everyone very nice to each other.
Instead, she had to play with the babies.
'Please, Auntie Lizzie,' Polly begged desperately. 'Me mates are out there having a good time.' The noise of the out-of-tune piano was so loud, Polly had to shout. She glared angrily at the rowdy company.
'Well, I suppose ten minutes won't do any harm,' Lizzie conceded. Put on your coat and leave the front door open. Stay where I can see you in the street, with your friends. I'll call you in when it's dark.'
'Oh, thank you, Auntie Lizzie!' Polly threw her arms around her aunt. Now she had got her way she felt happy.
'Don't forget what I've told you, monkey.'
'I won't. I promise.'
Polly disentangled herself from the many arms that tried to hug her and hands that attempted to pat her head as she struggled through the merrymakers.
At last she found herself in the passage and found her coat hidden under the many others hanging on the hall stand.
Doing as her aunt had told her, she stepped out into the street, leaving the front door open. She ran excitedly towards the two girls she knew at school. They all began to talk about what had happened during the holidays so far.
It was a short while later when a boy she didn't know, tapped her on her shoulder. He had rough brown hair and two teeth missing in the front of his mouth. He wasn't from Langley street but Polly saw there were quite a few kids from different neighbourhoods.
'Come wiv' me,' he said, tugging her arm. 'I'll show you where you can get some free sweets.'
'Where?' Polly challenged.
'Not far.' The boy pointed to a crowd of kids at the end of the terrace.
Polly looked at the window. Auntie Lizzie wasn't there.
'I'm not allowed,' Polly declared firmly, but her two friends were talking with some others now. Free sweets were a temptation. Perhaps Auntie Lizzie wouldn't miss her.
'Quick,' said the boy. 'Or else they'll be gone.'
Deciding she would only be out of sight for a few minutes, Polly followed. They came to the crowd of children all standing round a man playing a mouth organ. The woman with him shook a tambourine. They were handing small brown bags to the children.
'Sally Army,' said the boy knowledgeably. 'They deafen yer first, then give you sweets so you'll go to church.'
'But they're wearing masks.'
'Yer, well it's Christmas, ain't it?'
That didn't make much sense to Polly. But she was attracted by the music and of course, the confectionary.
'Do we have to go to church if we take the sweets?' she asked doubtfully.
'Nah,' laughed the boy. 'Course not. You just grab what you can get.'
Polly found herself drawn towards the colourful group. They looked more like the buskers she had seen outside the Queen's theatre in Poplar. The man had a soft scarf twisted around his neck. His short, dark hair stuck out in odd tufts and his smile, below the mask, was dazzling. The lady was gaily dressed, wearing a full skirt embroidered at the bottom. Her mask was frilly round the edges.
However, there seemed to be no prayers of any kind going on. The man was taking the bags of sweets from a pouch attached to his waist. Each bag was twisted at either side. Polly could just see a pink tip poking out enticingly.
She licked her lips. The boy snatched his and tore it open. 'Coconut,' he shouted and greedily pushed two in his mouth.
Polly edged her way past him and stood before the woman. She was very pretty with brown ringlets hanging to her shoulders.
'Here you are, child,' she said in a friendly fashion. 'Hold out your hand.'
Polly did so. A brown bag sank into her palm. It was full of coconut, Polly's favourite treat. 'Thank you,' she said politely.
'Merry Christmas.'
'My friend says you're from the Salvation Army,' Polly dared to say. 'But don't you usually wear a bonnet?'
'This is the day we put on something especially for the children,' replied the lady with a sweet smile.
Polly liked that. And she hadn't even been asked to go to church yet. She gripped her bag tightly.
The man looked at her. 'We are here to give gifts to God's children,' he said in a strange accent.
'What school do you go to?' the lady asked.
'Ebondale Street School.' Polly's eyes fixed on the plump bag that seemed to call her from the palm of her hand. Her mouth watered.
'Well, say hello if you see us pass by.'
Polly nodded. She could only think about the coconut. She wanted to untwist the corners of the bag and taste one. But she resisted the temptation. It might look too greedy in front of these holy people. And besides, Auntie Lizzie might be waiting.
'Now Jesus has given you your present,' said the man, 'you had better go back to your friends.'
Polly was quite amazed. He seemed to be reading her thoughts; she had been wondering if she dare reveal the bag to Nelson and Callum, who would grab sticky handfuls instead of just one. Now it appeared the sweets were meant just for her.
The woman rattled her tambourine. The man gave her a long, strange stare. As they moved slowly off down the street, they began to play and sing. Polly was relieved to find she wasn't expected to join in with the unfamiliar hymn.
Only this morning she had been talking to Auntie Lizzie about Jesus. Had Jesus himself sent the man and woman along to convince her he was real? It was Christmas, his birthday, after all.
Suddenly she heard her friend
s calling her. She hurried back, eager to see what had been going on in her absence. But the moment she arrived beside them, darkness began to fall.
Her heart missed a beat. She looked anxiously at the window. Auntie Lizzie was there, waving her in. Polly said goodbye to her friends and walked thoughtfully towards the open front door.
She was about to step inside when she came to a decision. She would tell no one about her little windfall from the Sally Army. After all, she hadn't done anything wrong. Accepting sweets from Jesus was like a bible story. Tom was missing, but she had been given her favourite treat instead. The more Polly thought about what had happened, the more determined she was to keep the sweets to herself.
She quickly pushed the bag of pink coconut deep into her pocket.
As she hung up her coat, she felt a guilty excitement. She would wait until tonight when she was in bed to open the bag. After all, the sweets were meant for her. Jesus would have sent three bags if he meant any for Nelson and Callum.
Humming happily to herself, and in a much better mood, Polly rejoined the party.
Chapter 26
Sydney Miller was smiling; his broad, boyish face and regular features when he was happy, looked far younger than his twenty-six years. His muscular arms were folded across his chest as he reclined on his chair listening to Doug murdering a version of 'It's a Sin to Tell a Lie'.
Syd had not expected to enjoy Christmas quite as much as he was. Even Lizzie had joined him at the piano earlier, to sing a few requests. Ethel was playing the Joanna, forced into participation by Lil who had sternly reminded her daughter that her piano lessons had cost an arm and a leg.
Ethel had a good touch and with each tune came memories and wistful sighs of nostalgia from her attentive audience. But when someone had begun to belt out A Long Way to Tipperary and Pack Up Your Troubles, Lil had gone out to the backyard for a smoke. After all, both her boys had been lost in the war. The scars had never really healed, poor cow.
Still, Fascinating Rhythm and a few energetic Jack Hylton numbers from yours truly had got the party going again.
Syd was proud of his deep, tuneful voice; he knew he had an ear for music, although he couldn't read a note. He wasn't bad at the dancing lark either, though it was more like a free-for-all when Ethel started to knock out, Knees Up Mother Brown.
The high-jinks had gone on into the early hours. Everyone was pleasantly pickled. Oddly enough, he hadn't indulged much today; he wanted to make sure this Christmas would be one to remember, even though some of the old faces weren't present: Danny and Tom, Rosie and Timothy and even Richard to name but a few. But family was family. You made an effort at times like this. Therefore, he'd struck a bargain with Flo; Christmas Day spent with her crowd and Boxing Day with his. Tomorrow they were going to drive over to Hoxton and celebrate with the Missus.
Syd knew what a lucky man he was to have a woman like Flo as his wife. It had to be said, she possessed a mind of her own. This didn't always sit well with his family, since the Missus had a fine opinion on her, too. But Flo could give as good as she got.
Lucky that really. She had been the youngest of the Allens and he'd courted her after her dad had died. Without the discipline Tom Allen had imposed on his kids before the war, Vinnie and Babs had run wild. Lizzie and Flo were left to pick up the pieces of family, and that was where he had come in. Well, who else was there for the girl to lean on? Danny had sodded off to Australia. Frank had wheedled himself into Lizzie's affections. And to cap it all, poor little Pol had been conceived in a whorehouse!
He couldn't have just turned his back on Flo, could he? He loved her and considered it his duty to stick by her. Though he said it himself, Syd felt he'd done a pretty good job in his marriage.
Syd heaved a satisfied sigh. He smiled at Lizzie, who was well away with her port and lemon. For once, a flush coloured her pale cheeks and her green eyes were filled with laughter as she stood at the piano. She was a beautiful woman, a proper classic. Though he preferred his wife's homely good looks and easy countenance. You could always tell what was coming with Flo. Her face was an open book.
Not so Lizzie. She wasn't one to give much away. That was, until she got proper riled and then stand clear! As he'd learned first-hand when his brother had nicked Frank's watch and Lizzie had spotted it on his wrist. The fall-out on that little caper had only just begun to subside.
Syd eased his collar at the thought. Though he'd defended his brothers, privately, he wished Walter would keep his thieving hands to himself. He wished Clifford wasn't such an idiot as to boast to all and sundry that the Millers and the Flowers was joined at the hip. Hah, that was a good one!
Most of all, he wished his brothers and the Missus didn't keep on at him, claiming they could do a better job for Lizzie than the Irishman. But Syd drew the line at hanging, drawing and quartering, especially if perpetrated by his own family!
Christ Almighty, what if the law came knocking on his door in the middle of the night? No, Lizzie had warned him to keep out of her business and this time, he would as she asked.
Syd jumped when Lizzie tapped him on the shoulder.
'It's been a lovely evening Syd,' she said warmly. 'Thanks for making it one of the best.'
'I'm glad you enjoyed yerself,' he said guiltily and took a swig of his beer. 'Must be rotten without – well, you know … Danny.'
Did he really just say that? Syd asked himself silently. What a twerp he was! Just when things were getting more cosy between him and Lizzie, he had to blurt out Danny's name. 'Sorry,' he mumbled. 'I've put me foot in it. Again. But you know what I think? I reckon that swanky car sales of his over Euston is keeping him busy.'
'It's Christmas, Syd,' Lizzie replied mildly. 'No one stays open on the 25th. Not even my shop.'
Syd felt he should say something, but what? She was right and they both knew it.
Lizzie sighed softly and spoke again, relieving him of the problem of what to say next. 'To tell the truth Syd, I've been hoping he'd show up. I thought he'd make an effort for the kids, if not for me. Tom and Polly have always been close, like brother and sister. He knows that and would normally put their interests first.'
Syd glanced at Polly who had fallen asleep on the settee, her head in Lil's lap.
'Just a bit of a hiccup,' Syd replied diplomatically. 'You wait and see. Christmas ain't over yet.'
'Did Flo tell you she met Danny up Island Gardens?'
'No,' Syd lied badly.
Lizzie looked at him and smiled. 'For what it's worth Syd, I know he's with April Williams.'
Once again, he kept silent.
Lizzie drained her glass of port of its last drop. 'Take no notice of me. It's probably the drink talking.'
'And why not? Come on, I'll have another one with you.' He began to stand up but she put her hand on his shoulder. 'No, thanks, love. Listen, I'm sorry we fell out about the watch. Sorrier still that it took Nelson's birth to bring me to my senses.'
'It's wasn't you. It was me.'
She chuckled. 'We're alright now though, ain't we?'
'More than alright,' agreed Syd fiercely. 'We're like this.' He held out two crossed fingers.
'That's good.'
Syd looked into her eyes and saw the sadness of all the past years, when she had fought for Polly and for Flo and tried to fight for Babs and Vinnie too. Only that had been a lost cause from the start. In the end the struggle had left her like this, without a bloke, or at least without Danny. Without any kids of her own and with a blooming great headache called the Mill Wall.
Nevertheless, his heart went out to her. Despite his earlier vow not get involved, he said earnestly, 'Lizzie, gel, you know you can call on me if the need arises. I mean just me, not my brothers, you understand?'
'That's decent of you, Syd,' she answered with a grateful nod. 'But you have a youngster now. You have to look out for him.'
'Which is why I don't plan to spend my life at the scrapyard,' Syd confessed. 'Just as soon as I've saved enough, I'
m going to buy me own gaff. Not that I've said anything to Flo yet.'
'Well, I wish you good luck, Syd.'
'I want to show Flo I can do it.'
'We all have our reasons to succeed.' A loud clatter of dishes came from the kitchen. Looking over her shoulder she nodded. 'Better go and help. Time to start clearing away.'
Syd gulped the last of his beer down as he watched her go. What had he gone and said all that about owning his own place for? He'd not even thought it was possible before tonight, let alone probable.
But the moment the words had left his lips, he knew it was what he wanted. He just had to get away from the scrapyard and his brothers. It wasn't easy with the Missus always on at him to support them. But he was getting the feeling something underhand was going on. He knew that he was like an ostrich putting his head in the sand. One day there was going to be an almighty eruption. He felt it in his gut. It was the little things that bothered him. The nudges and the winks behind his back, the shifty characters who were attracted to to Clifford like moths to the flame. The old lags that sat in the office for hours on end, glorifying their prison days. The secret meetings behind closed doors that he was never privy to. He was left alone to flog the scrap, thank God. But one day he would be drawn in. And God help him then!
Syd sobered up a little as he always did when he thought of his brothers. And then it occurred to him – he should have asked Lizzie if she wanted in on his plans. After all, she was buying up the manor like there was no tomorrow!
Why not?
But what did he have to offer. No nest egg, no going halves. No working collateral. No investments to plough into a sound proposition.
A nice stable business with prospects – if only he had a plan up his sleeve.
But today was a beginning.
Perhaps tomorrow would bring something along. Syd always liked to look on the bright side. Even though he was a Miller.
