Cockney Orphan

by Carol Rivers

  As Olive took out her hanky and blew her nose, there was a knock at the door. Connie went to answer it. Len’s thin face was pale and he was breathing hard. ‘Len, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve just been over to Ada’s.’

  ‘Oh, I’d almost forgotten!’ With all that had been going on, Ada’s absence from work had escaped her mind. ‘Come in.’ She opened the door wider, expecting him to enter.

  ‘No, I’ve got to get back to Mum. But I thought I’d let you know first.’

  ‘Let me know what?’ Her heart sank at the tone of his voice.

  ‘Ada’s left.’

  Connie stared blankly. ‘Left what?’

  ‘Wally’s house. She’s gone away.’

  Connie shook her head. ‘She wouldn’t do that!’

  ‘Well she has.’ Len shivered in the damp, misty afternoon that once again threatened fog. ‘Some of her clothes have gone, her shoes and personal things. She must have taken them on Saturday morning when the Wipples was all out.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Connie gasped. ‘Where would she go?’

  ‘Must have had somewhere in mind.’ Len shrugged.

  Connie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Len, I wish I hadn’t rowed with her.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. Something’s been up for ages.’

  ‘Oh, please come in!’ Connie didn’t want him to rush off. Perhaps there was something he wasn’t telling her.

  ‘I can’t. I’m on me bike. And Mrs Next Door won’t wait for ever.’

  Connie nodded sadly. ‘See you in the morning, then.’

  ‘I’ll have to tell Mr Burns if she don’t show up. Lord only knows what he’ll say. Just as we’re getting busy again too.’

  Connie watched him pedal off, head down, his long back bent. She stared into the thickening mist sightlessly. She couldn’t believe that Ada had thrown in her job. They had worked together at Dalton’s since leaving school, survived the Blitz and begun a new chapter with the Americans taking over. If only they hadn’t quarrelled!

  ‘Con-Con play,’ Lucky gurgled as he tugged her hand. She closed the front door and lifted him into her arms. Burying her face in his soft hair she hugged him tight.

  ‘Con-Con’s coming,’ she sniffed, wondering where her friend was and when she would see her again.

  That night Connie woke suddenly from a deep sleep. Something in the house had disturbed her. Careful not to make a noise, she climbed out of bed and listened. Lucky was fast asleep in his cot, the wooden bars of which were now missing in order for him to climb in and out. His toys were gathered neatly in the corner, and though the room was cold it was watertight after the repairs that Taffy and Billy had done.

  Pulling on her dressing-gown she trod softly out of her room and stood at the top of the stairs. Both her brothers were heavy sleepers and left their door ajar. Mum and Dad’s was always closed, but tonight a crack of light showed in the hall below. As the blackout was still in force, she could see it clearly.

  Halfway down the stairs she identified a tap running. Quickly she made her way to the bathroom and pushed open the door.

  ‘Billy?’ Her brother was bending over the basin. More than bending. He seemed to have fallen across it.

  ‘Shh, Con. Shut the door.’

  She closed it quietly. ‘Billy, it’s half past three in the morn—’ Her mouth fell open as he looked round. ‘Oh my God, Billy! What have you done to yourself?’

  His face was as large as a football, swollen and bleeding. ‘Shh. I don’t want Mum and Dad to see this.’

  ‘What happened?’ She went up to him. ‘No, don’t speak, sit down on the chair instead.’ Quickly she opened the cupboard and took out the box of clean rags. Tearing one in half she soaked it in water. ‘This is going to hurt, but sit still.’

  In silence she bathed the hard scabs around his mouth and the cut above his eye that warranted more than bathing. ‘Billy, who did this to you?’

  ‘I didn’t duck quick enough.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I asked.’

  Billy grunted as she wiped his swollen mouth. ‘My opponent was more than I could handle tonight, that’s all. I suppose it had to happen one day.’ He tried to laugh. ‘I can’t win ’em all, can I?’

  ‘What did Taffy say?’

  Billy shrugged, then groaned. ‘Christ, me chest hurts.’

  ‘Is it your ribs?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so.’

  Connie undid the buttons of his shirt. ‘Oh, Billy, you’re black and blue all over. Who did this to you? Whatever was in Taffy’s mind to set you up with such an animal?’

  Billy pushed her gently away. ‘I’ll be all right tomorrow.’

  ‘No you won’t. You need a doctor now.’

  ‘I’ll go tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll come with you then.’

  He held on to her gently. ‘No, Con, thanks all the same. I ain’t lost the use of me gob yet.’

  She looked into his bloodshot eyes. ‘Billy, is there something you’re not telling me?’

  ‘Course not. I just got a hiding for once. Serves me right. I was getting too big for me boots, like Mum always said I was. Look, the best thing you can do for me is forget this ever happened. I’ll go see the quack tomorrow and by the end of the week I’ll be my ’andsome self again. Now, give us another once over for good measure, eh?’

  Connie washed out the rag and bathed his face again. She didn’t know where to start. It was a mess. Why had Taffy allowed this to happen?

  Connie went back to the cupboard and took out the small black bottle of iodine kept for emergencies beside the bandages and bandettes. ‘This will hurt,’ she warned him.

  ‘Ouch,’ he yelped as she dabbed it on. ‘Go easy, Con.’

  She did the best she could and when she was done Billy stood up. ‘Thanks, Con. Will you do me one more favour?’

  She pulled her dressing-gown round her. Even before he spoke she knew it was something she wouldn’t like.

  ‘Stuff a few clothes in a bag for me will you?’

  ‘Why? You’re not going out again!’

  He reached for her hand. ‘Look, Con, I’m going to kip at a mate’s. Don’t make a fuss, there’s a good girl. No sense in giving Mum a fright tomorrow, is there?’ He gripped her tightly. ‘Remember my first fight? I got walloped rotten then, but in a week I was right as rain.’

  ‘You said then you’d never let it happen again.’

  ‘I know. This was just a one-off.’

  Connie shook her head hopelessly. ‘Billy, I was beginning to think everything was turning out all right.’

  ‘It is, worry guts. Now, just nip up and get me a pair of trousers and shirt will you? They’re over my chair.’

  Against her better judgement Connie did as he asked. She didn’t know what was going on, but if she argued with him all night, he wasn’t going to tell her. And he was right about Mum. Seeing Billy so battered in the morning, she was likely to have one of her turns. It had been a bad day all round.

  Connie crept into the boys’ bedroom and felt for the chair. She could hear Kevin snoring loudly. Gathering Billy’s clothes she tiptoed out and took them to the bathroom.

  ‘Ta, sis. Now, let me out quietly and go back to bed. In the morning you’ve not seen nothing, all right?’

  ‘When will you be back?’

  ‘Dunno. I’ll catch Kev at the factory and tell him to tell Mum I’m training for the next fight.’

  Connie walked to the front door and opened it. Billy bent to kiss her cheek as the cold, damp air rushed in. She watched him hobble away and wanted to run after him and drag him back. ‘Oh, Billy, take care of yourself,’ she whispered as he melted like a ghost into the night.

  Gran came to the door as soon as she heard Connie. ‘Hello, ducks, how are you? And my lovely boy?’ She bent down and drew Lucky into her arms. ‘Where’s your pram gone?’

  ‘We caught a bus to Island Gardens, then walked.’ Connie’s cheeks were flushed with cold as sh
e stepped into the warmth of the old house. ‘It wasn’t foggy this afternoon, so we made the most of the weather.’

  ‘Come on in. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘Look who’s here!’ Connie smiled as they walked into the front room. Pat pushed herself up from the chair and the two women embraced. ‘How’s the little one?’ Connie asked, laying her hand lightly on Pat’s round stomach. ‘Any movement yet?’

  ‘Not much.’ Pat shrugged. ‘Not like Doris. Hello, darling.’ She held out her hand to Lucky. ‘Come and give Auntie Pat a cuddle.’

  When the children were sitting on the floor playing, Connie hung their coats and gas masks on the peg behind the door. She sat beside Pat. ‘Heard anything from Laurie?’

  ‘His battalion is in training up near Wanstead somewhere. He says he’s at last found out which end of a rifle shoots.’ She laughed sadly. ‘I just hope he points it in the right direction. You know Laurie, his face always in a book. He was never one for anything mechanical.’

  ‘He made a nice job of the cellar, though,’ Connie recalled. ‘At least you all had a place to go in the Blitz.’

  Pat smiled thoughtfully. ‘Yes, bless his heart. We never had to endure the shelters like some.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he can say much about where he is,’ Connie said, wondering if it was the pregnancy or the miss of Laurie that was giving her shadows around the eyes.

  ‘Only that he’s training and assures me he’s not in the thick of anything more dangerous than the Three Nuns baccy I send him.’

  ‘At least you can write back and tell him all the news.’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure I can, really.’ Pat pushed back her dark hair and adjusted her maternity smock. ‘I had to give up work last week.’

  ‘Well, you are five and a half months, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’d hoped to go on longer. But the doctor said I should stop as I was spotting a bit of blood.’

  Connie looked concerned. ‘Was it often?’

  ‘Once or twice it happened.’

  ‘Oh, Pat, you’ll have to take it easy. From now on me and Lucky will come over on Saturdays and do your shopping and whatever housework there is.’

  Pat smiled faintly. ‘Thanks, Con.’

  ‘I’ll catch the bus like I did today and we’ll be over by two o’clock. I’ll call at Gran’s after.’

  ‘The thing is, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay at the flat.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Without my wage, I can’t really afford to keep such a large place on. We could’ve managed on Laurie’s wage, but it’s just army pay now.’

  ‘But where will you go?’

  ‘Gran’s offered to put us up.’

  ‘Oh, Pat, you’ll miss your lovely flat. You and Laurie worked so hard to make it nice.’

  ‘Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m lucky to have Gran.’

  ‘What will you do with your furniture?’

  ‘There’s only the dresser and table that are really worth anything.’

  ‘What about Laurie’s books and your embroideries?’

  ‘I’ll ask the coal man to take them on his cart. He’ll do it for a couple of bob.’

  ‘When are you thinking of leaving?’

  ‘Before Christmas. We could have stayed till after, but it will be better for Doris to be settled.’

  Just then Gran brought in the tea. ‘Did Pat tell you her news?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a shame she has to leave the flat. But at least she’ll be with you, Gran.’

  ‘She can have her old room back and Vic’s is empty too. There’s plenty of space.’ Gran set the tea on the table and lowered a china cup to each saucer. She gave the two children a mug of orange juice each, then sat on the couch. ‘I’ll let you pour, Connie. Don’t use the strainer, because I’ll read our cups.’

  With all that had gone wrong this week Connie wasn’t so sure she wanted to know the future. But Pat was eager to drink hers and, after twisting the cup three times in the saucer, she gave the dregs to Gran.

  The old lady frowned as she examined the evidence. Then, looking up at Pat, she shrugged lightly. ‘There’s nothing there I can’t tell you that you don’t know. A move is forecast, but you don’t need the leaves to tell you that.’

  Pat pouted. ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘Not today.’ Gran looked at Connie, her dark eyes piercing in her brown, wrinkled face. ‘Someone has come into your life and someone has gone out,’ she said as she stared at the contents of the saucer. ‘There’s two figures here, male and female, and upside down. In other words, passing.’

  ‘As usual, Gran, you aren’t far from the truth.’ Connie took a breath and began to tell them the story of Gilbert Tucker and how he had first appeared in her life, followed by Ada’s mysterious departure from Dalton’s.

  ‘One in and one out,’ Gran nodded. ‘The leaves never lie.’

  Sometimes, Connie mused, she wished they did.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gran studied the two young women sitting in her front room. Separated from their men and fending for themselves was no easy task in a world of rationing, blackouts and the threat of invasion. It was a miracle they had reared two youngsters and survived the Blitz.

  Playing on the floor was Doris, who, at four years old, was a pretty little thing with curly dark hair like Pat’s and Laurie’s friendly, open features. Lucky, poor little mite, was as blond as Doris was dark, his blue eyes the same shade and shape as Connie’s. The children complemented each other perfectly, Doris a natural born leader, Lucky content to hang on to her every word. They were playing Mummies and Daddies and had forgotten the adults. She was putting Lucky to bed and instructing him to go to sleep, assuring him they were safe in the cellar, protected from the bombs. The little boy was curled under the table obediently.

  They had been through so much. And now Pat had to leave her beloved home. The old saying was true. The poor grew poorer, although, in all honesty, she had no real insight of the rich. But if they were worth their salt, they’d be on the island, campaigning for the rights of the common man, like Pat and Laurie, not helping themselves to the cream of society.

  Gran had seen all the do-gooders arrive in a blaze of light and blow out faster than a fart. Lloyd George and his coalition. Baldwin and MacDonald in and out of power like cuckoos in a clock. All prepared to speak on behalf of the poor, just as long as they weren’t one of them. And now Churchill – a giant in war, but a leader in peace? Who could tell? The island had seen them come and go and fared none the better for all their talk.

  ‘Gran?’ Connie’s voice roused her.

  She blinked sharply. ‘Are you going?

  ‘Yes, it’s late.’

  ‘This man, Gilbert Tucker, will he show up again?’

  ‘I’ve got a feeling he will.’

  ‘Watch out for yourself, love.’

  ‘Time for me to go too.’ Pat struggled to get out of the chair.

  Connie helped her up. ‘I’ll walk you to the bus stop.’

  Gran dressed Lucky in his red siren suit and Doris in her blue winter coat and muffler. Pat picked up her shopping bag and the gas masks and Connie took each child by the hand. ‘See you next week, Gran, a little later, as I’m calling at Pat’s first.’

  ‘No rush, love. I’ll have the kettle on.’

  They kissed her goodbye and she watched them walk out into the dark afternoon. Gran closed the door and went back to the front room. Sitting down in the chair, she thought about Gilbert Tucker. There was no doubt in her mind she had seen him for herself, once when she was at the shops and then in the café with Albie. He was the child’s relative she had no doubt of it. The lights matched and always would until Lucky was free.

  Nature could be cruel at times. She didn’t understand the workings of the universe, but it was so. She was getting older sadly, but none the wiser!

  It was a murky December morning when the new girl started at Dalton’s. Jenny Beam wore sensible sho
es and pinned her mouse-coloured hair into a bun.

  ‘She doesn’t say boo to a goose,’ Len confided to Connie as they made their way up to the office. ‘But she comes with excellent references. Mr Burns is very pleased. Especially as we’ve struggled in Ada’s absence.’

  ‘I miss Ada,’ Connie agreed as they ascended the stairs to the office. ‘I wonder why she left.’

  ‘At Christmas, too,’ Len agreed in a mystified tone. ‘She was the life and soul of the canteen party.’

  ‘For weeks before it she’d drag me round the market looking for something to wear. I haven’t had the heart to go shopping without her.’ She paused as they stood outside the office. ‘Len, I’m going to give the party a miss this year.’

  ‘But I’ll be there.’

  ‘Even so . . .’

  Len lifted his eyes. ‘Women! I just don’t understand them.’

  ‘That’s why you’re still single.’ Connie grinned.

  He pushed open the door. ‘Look there’s Jenny, in already. Must have been here at the crack of dawn.’

  Connie studied the unfamiliar figure perched on Ada’s tall stool. One hand rested demurely on her long plaid skirt, the other was busy turning the page of the ledger in front of her.

  Len heaved a sigh as he walked over. ‘Hello, Jenny.’

  Connie had never seen someone blush so deeply. ‘Oh, er, good morning, Mr English.’

  ‘This is Connie and she’ll show you the ropes.’

  Jenny smiled nervously. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Jenny.’ Connie gave her a big smile.

  In the absence of further comment, Len coughed. ‘Well, I’ll leave you two to it.’

  Connie sat on her stool. ‘Have you done this sort of work before, Jenny?’ she asked in a friendly fashion.

  ‘Yes,’ came the slight nod. ‘At Masterson’s.’

  ‘The oil blenders? Didn’t they move out to Essex recently?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Connie waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming. ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll like it here. Everyone’s very nice. All the girls from the typing pool and other offices meet in the canteen at one o’clock. I’ll introduce you, if you like.’