Jim had always been very careful with whom he dealt for his black market supplies. He’d only trade with men he knew, with whom he’d built up a trust. And the same went for his customers; he knew them all, knew they lived in the area. But then, after several months of keeping Dot in the manner she demanded and having to find a small wage for Jenny each week, Jim began to feel the drain on his savings. He began to take risks in dealing with people he didn’t know. He began to buy meat from anyone who came into his shop and offered it to him, when it had obviously been obtained dishonestly. And he was willing to sell his meat to complete strangers if they asked him, with a wink and a nod, if he had anything ‘under the counter’. Jenny guessed that his recklessness was because he was trying to keep Dot happy, but Jenny knew her mother. The more anyone gave Dot, the more she would take and the more she would demand.
It was only a matter of time before something went wrong.
Forty-Three
They’d been with Jim almost a year. Jenny had been working in the shop since she’d left school. She enjoyed the work, chatting to the customers, serving them, taking their money and giving them their change. The only thing she’d hated was the cold winter weather blasting in through the ever-open door. But now it was spring again and the sun dappled the tiled floor in the shop and the gusts of wind blowing in were warmer. Jenny was a quick learner and Jim had come to rely on her. He also knew he could trust her and no longer sent her through to the back or upstairs when his black market suppliers appeared. She even tried to warn him of the risks he was taking.
‘Did you know him?’ she asked bluntly as a man who’d brought them some very nice cuts of steak left the shop.
Jim shrugged. ‘I can’t afford to be choosy these days, love. Stuff’s getting harder to come by and— Ah, good morning, madam, and what can I get for you this fine day?’
Jim rested his hands flat on the counter and leaned towards a woman whom Jenny had only seen in the shop once before. She was dressed in a navy mackintosh with a felt hat pulled down low over her face. Outside a man hovered in front of the shop window, watching. Jenny bit her lip and pulled at Jim’s arm, trying to warn him, but it was too late.
‘Like a nice bit of sausage, madam?’ He leaned even closer to the woman and dropped his voice. ‘Or a nice bit of steak?’
The man came into the shop and held out his identity card. Jim’s usually florid face turned pale and he began to sweat.
‘We’ve been watching your shop for some time. You’re under arrest for trading in black market goods,’ the man said.
Jenny thought Jim was going to faint. ‘I – I – ’ he began to splutter. ‘I can explain it. A friend of mine killed a pig. He has a proper licence and—’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Bradshaw, we know this isn’t just a one-off.’ His glance rested on Jenny. ‘Is she in on it too?’
‘Good Heavens, no. She’s only fourteen.’
‘Hmm.’ The man was thoughtful. ‘Well, we won’t take any action against a minor, not this time. But be warned, young lady, if you break the law, of what will happen to you, no matter what age you are. Now, you’ll need to close your shop, Mr Bradshaw, and come with us.’
‘Close the shop?’ Jim was scandalized. ‘I can’t close the shop.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to. We’ll be sending in our chaps to confiscate your meat.’
‘Oh aye,’ Jim laughed bitterly. ‘And we all know what that means, don’t we? You and your cronies will all be eating well tonight.’
‘Now, now, Mr Bradshaw. Insulting us won’t get you anywhere. In fact, it’ll make things worse for you. We’re only doing our job.’
‘Well, it’s a pity you haven’t got owt better to do than persecute folks who are only trying to help their neighbours get through this wretched war.’
‘Breaking the regulations is a criminal offence. You could be facing a jail sentence.’
Jim’s bluster died at once and he turned even paler. ‘Jenny, lass, fetch yer mam down here, will yer?’
Jenny scuttled up the stairs. Luckily, Dot was home, cooking a nice piece of steak for their tea.
‘Mum, Mum, come quick, Uncle Jim’s being arrested!’
Dot’s mouth dropped open and then, as she digested the news, her mouth tightened. ‘Huh, I should have known. I should’ve stayed wiv Arfer. He knew ’ow to keep out of trouble.’
‘He wants you to come down.’
‘Not flippin’ likely.’
‘But you’ll have to. They’re taking him away.’
‘I’ll do no such thing.’ She gripped Jenny’s arm and held on to it. ‘And neither will you. You stay up here. They can’t come up here. Not unless they’ve got a warrant. Stay out of it.’
They could hear the commotion downstairs now, as Jim shouted for Dot. Dot dragged Jenny with her to the front window and they peered carefully through the curtains as Jim was dragged from the premises. He cast one last despairing glance up at the window, but Dot stepped smartly back. ‘Don’t let him see you.’
‘But we’ve got to do something. We’ve got to help him.’
‘Why?’
‘He – he’s been good to us.’
Dot’s mouth twisted in a sneer. ‘He got what he wanted. What all men want. Now, we’ve got to think about ourselves. We’re out of here.’
‘But, Mum—’
‘No buts. We’re going.’
‘Where?’
Now Dot smiled broadly. ‘Where d’yer think? Back to London, of course.’
‘London? But – but we ran away from there. Won’t we be in trouble if we go back?’
‘Nah. It was Arfer they was after, not us. We’re pure as the driven snow, Jen.’
Jenny cast a wry glance at her mother, but said no more.
‘Get packing and be quick about it. We don’t want to be here when that lot come back. They might arrest me as his accomplice. I can talk me way out of most things, but they might think they can pin something on me. Come on, get a move on.’
And they got a move on. Jenny’s belongings were soon packed and ready, but Dot’s took a little longer.
‘Jen, climb up that ladder into the loft and see’f Jim’s got any suitcases up there. I can’t get all me stuff into just one.’
Jenny smiled wryly. There was no way her mother would get all the fancy clothes, shoes and handbags she’d acquired recently into one suitcase, nor even three or four.
Jenny climbed the ladder nimbly and poked her head into the dark space. She heard a rustling in the far corner. Mice, she thought, but the little creatures held no fear for her.
‘’Ave yer got a torch, Mum? I can’t see a thing up here.’
Dot was gone a few moments before she came back with the torch that Jim had kept in the shop. She handed it up to Jenny. ‘Look sharp, Jen. They’ll be coming back any minute. Who were they? The police?’
‘I don’t know. They held out an identity card but I couldn’t read it. They weren’t in uniform, though.’
‘Plain clothes. That’s how they catch folk. Do hurry up, Jen.’
Jenny clambered up into the loft and shone the torch around. There was all sorts of clutter in the loft. How she would love to delve amongst it, if only there was more time. But her mother’s insistent pleas to hurry kept reminding her that there was no time to dally.
After a moment or two, she called down: ‘I can’t see any suitcases, but there’s a big trunk.’
‘That’ll do.’
‘It’ll be heavy.’
‘We’ll manage,’ Dot called back, determined not to leave any of her belongings behind.
Luckily, the trunk wasn’t locked, but Jenny struggled with the fastening.
‘Come on, Jen.’ Dot’s impatient voice drifted up into the loft.
‘It’s full of stuff,’ Jen shouted as she threw back the lid. ‘Old clothes.’
‘Anything decent?’
‘Can’t see, but it smells all fusty. Ugh. There’s something furry.’
‘Is it a fur coat?’ Dot’s tone was suddenly interested and eager, all thoughts of the time passing forgotten.
Jenny pulled it out. ‘I can’t see.’
‘Let me have a look. Throw it down here.’
Jenny crawled back to the opening and threw the garment down. It landed on Dot’s upturned face and Jenny smothered her giggles as she watched her mother fighting her way out from under it.
‘Blimey, Jen,’ came Dot’s excited voice. ‘It’s a real fur coat. I could ’ave done with this in the winter.’
So could I, Jenny thought ruefully. I’d have worn it in the shop. Aloud she said, ‘But it pongs to high heaven, Mum, of mothballs or something. You can’t wear that.’
‘When we get home, I can hang it in the yard – let the fresh air get to it. My, it’s a nice one. I wonder whose it was.’
Jenny crawled back to the trunk and tipped the rest of the clothes on to the boarded floor of the loft, then dragged the trunk to the opening. It was heavy for the young girl, even without anything in it.
‘I don’t reckon it’s going to come down through the hole, Mum.’
‘Course it will.’ Dot was determined. ‘It must ’ave gone up in the first place, so it’ll have to come down.’
Dot climbed up the ladder to help manoeuvre it from below and eventually, with much pulling and pushing and swearing from Dot, the trunk was tugged through the hole and slid down the ladder. Jenny scrambled down after it and they carried it into the bedroom Dot had shared with Jim.
Dot knelt in front of it and threw back the lid, smiling as she saw the vastness of the interior. ‘Perfect,’ she muttered. ‘Now, Jen, pass me my clothes off the bed.’
‘We’ll never lift it,’ Jenny muttered as the items began to fill the big trunk.
‘Then we’ll drag it,’ Dot snapped. ‘Now, is that everything?’ Dot glanced around the room. There was nothing left to say that she had ever been there. ‘Sit on the lid, Jen, while I fasten it. There. Now get hold of that end.’ But there was no way the woman and the girl were ever going to lift it. ‘Just push it, then, an’ I’ll pull.’
Somehow they got it to the top of the stairs and pushed it down. It slid, bumping on every step and crashing into the walls on either side as it went, landing with a thud at the bottom.
‘I ’ope it hasn’t smashed it open,’ Dot said worriedly, ignoring the scratch marks and the torn wallpaper its rapid descent had caused. But the trunk was sturdy and intact.
‘Right, ’ave we got everything?’ Back in the bedroom, her greedy glance swept the room. ‘Yer know, I quite fancy them vases on the mantelpiece – ’
‘Mum, it’s—’ Jenny had been about to say ‘it’s stealing’, but she knew that wouldn’t even prick Dot’s conscience. She sometimes wondered if her mother had such a thing. She altered what she had been going to say to, ‘We can’t carry anything else,’ and then added craftily, ‘It’ll hamper us.’
Jenny didn’t want them taking anything that wasn’t theirs. Jim had been good to them both and she didn’t want to steal from him. The poor man was in enough trouble. The time they’d lived with Jim had been easier for her in some ways than things had been with Arthur. School had been fine; she’d felt more at home with the city kids. And when she’d left, she’d quite enjoyed working in the shop except when it had been so cold.
But now she was going home. Back to London. Back to the streets and the people she knew and Jenny felt happiness surge through her. And though, even then, to say that there was nowhere else she would rather be was not quite right, she had to accept that she could never again go back there.
Forty-Four
Within three hours of Jim’s arrest, they’d locked the shop up, posted the key through the letter box and were on their way to the railway station, dragging the heavy trunk behind them and each carrying a suitcase. Every so often they kept stopping for a rest.
‘We’ll never manage this, Mum,’ Jenny panted. ‘Everyone’s staring at us.’
‘Let ’em,’ Dot said through gritted teeth.
‘Want any help, love?’
They both looked round to see a workman digging rubble on a bomb site at the side of the road. ‘Catching a train, a’ ya?’
Dot straightened up and smiled her most winning smile. ‘That’s right.’
‘Long way to the station for you two lovely ladies to be dragging that thing.’ He nodded towards the trunk. ‘Got all ya wordly goods in there, ’ave ya?’
Dot moved closer to the man.
‘Actually, we probably have.’ Dot opened her handbag and fished out a handkerchief. Then she dabbed her eyes gently so as not to smudge her make-up, which had not been applied with her usual care this morning because of her haste to get away. ‘We were bombed out in London and came here to escape. But – but – ’ her voice quavered – ‘it’s not much better here, is it?’ She nodded towards the buildings nearby, some left only half standing, their inner rooms open to the elements now. There were even pieces of furniture left standing precariously on shaky floors. And beneath the man’s feet was a pile of bricks that had once been someone’s home.
The man clambered over the debris and shook the dirt from his overalls. ‘Aye, it’s a right bugger, ain’t it, missis? Now, let’s see’f me and my mate can help you.’ He raised his voice. ‘Ron, ’ere a minute. We need your strong arms.’
A man digging on another bomb site on the other side of the road looked up. He flung down his shovel and crossed the road. ‘What’s up, Bert?’ Jenny almost giggled aloud. The man had the same name as her faithful old teddy, who was once again squashed into the top of her suitcase.
‘These two lovely ladies need an ’and. And I reckon we’re just the fellers to do it, don’t you?’
Ron now eyed Dot whilst she simpered and smiled up at him. Jenny groaned inwardly, but for once she appreciated her mother’s flirting might get them some badly needed help. The two men, strong from their manual labour, lifted the trunk between them easily.
‘Where a’ we going, Bert?’
‘Railway station, Ron. These ladies are going home to London. You ready?’
‘Aye. Lead on.’
At the station the men carried the trunk on to the platform and set it down.
‘Now, let’s find you a porter, missis.’
‘Oh please, don’t trouble yourselves any further,’ Dot said, and added enthusiastically, ‘you’ve been wonderful. Please, will you let me buy you both a cup of tea? It’s the least I can do.’
‘That’d be right nice, love. But it’s no trouble for me to find you a porter to look after you.’ He winked at Dot. ‘Me brother-in-law works here. If I can find him . . .’ The man looked about him. ‘Ah, there ’ee is.’ He raised his voice to a man in uniform trundling an upright barrow along the platform. Jenny had see something similar at Ravensfleet; Ben had called it a sack barrow.
‘Walter, over here, lad. You’re just the man we want.’
As the man called Walter approached, Dot turned her smile upon him too.
‘These ladies are catching a train, but this trunk’s a big ’un.’
Walter grinned and nodded at Dot. ‘Leave it to me, Bert. I’ll see ’em safely on to the train. Which one a’ ya catching?’
‘I’m not sure yet. I haven’t got our tickets. But we want the next one to London.’
‘Well now, you might ’ave a bit of a wait. Next one’s not till half past two and it’ll probably be running late. And you’ll probably ’ave to change at Doncaster. An’ it’ll be crowded. A lot of troops on the move, ya know.’
‘I didn’t know, but I can believe it.’
Bert guffawed. ‘They’ll look after you, love.’
Jenny felt ashamed. Bert had obviously eyed her mother up and seen her for exactly what she was. But the girl swallowed her pride and tried to smile. At this moment, they needed the help of men like Bert, his mate and his brother-in-law and they might also be very glad of help from soldiers, too, heaving the massive trunk on and o
ff the train.
The journey was surprisingly enjoyable, even though the train was packed with soldiers and airmen, travelling either back to camp or home on leave.
‘You can sit on my knee, love,’ one soldier, older than most of the others, said, winking at Dot.
‘Ta very much, I’m sure.’ Dot winked back at him and promptly sat on his knee. The astonished look on the soldier’s face had the rest of the carriage laughing. He hadn’t expected such a response but then he didn’t know Dot. ‘There’s a lot of you. Where are you all going?’
‘Back to camp,’ the man on whose knee Dot was sitting said. ‘All leave’s been cancelled.’
‘Watch it, mate,’ one of the soldiers next to him muttered. ‘Careless talk and all that.’
There was an awkward silence for a moment until Dot giggled and said, ‘Do I look like a spy, then?’
‘Actually, love, you do,’ the soldier who’d given the warning said, but he was smiling. ‘You’re the sort of pretty lady that us poor mutts would tell anything to.’
Everyone who’d heard the exchange of conversation laughed and then, deftly changing the subject, a young, fresh-faced airman with fair hair asked Jenny, ‘Are you going to sit on mine?’ His eyes crinkled when he smiled and his blue eyes were friendly and honest. He reminded her sharply of Georgie. ‘I don’t bite. My name’s Mike.’ He held out his hand to shake hers.
‘Now, you go carefully with the likes of ’im, love,’ one of the soldiers put in. ‘You know what these RAF types are like. You’re safer with us squaddies.’
On and on the banter and the laughter went, but they shared food and drink with Dot and Jenny and even persuaded them to join in a game of cards. Jenny quickly grasped the rules.
‘I reckon you’ve played before, Jenny,’ Mike teased her as she won again. ‘Good job we’re not playing for money, I’d lose all me pay.’
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