‘I’m prayin’,’ said Mother. With her eyes still closed, she nodded and murmured. ‘Yes, thank you, Lord, yes, all right.’ She opened her eyes and gave Aunt Edie a kind look. ‘It’s come to me, through our Lord, that seein’ you’re so concerned about my fam’ly, Edie Harper, you could stop being a selfish single woman and come and look after them yourself while I’m away.’
‘What?’ said Aunt Edie.
‘Yes, it come to me in my prayer,’ said Mother calmly. ‘You can look after them while I’m doin’ God’s work.’
Aunt Edie, her eyes fiery, said, ‘Don’t tempt me.’
‘Now I’ve got to be on my way,’ said Mother.
‘And you don’t know when you’ll be back?’
‘The Lord will instruct me.’
‘Poor old Lord,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘I don’t know how He puts up with all you people knockin’ Him up day and night, but you’re tempting me all right.’
‘I’ll be ‘umbly pleasured if I’ve shown you ’ow to do your Christian duty,’ said Mother graciously.
‘If you’re not careful, you’ll lose your girls,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘I don’t mean they’ll leave ’ome, they won’t do that, they’ll stay with their dad. What I do mean is you’ll lose their affection, and when that’s gone, Maud, everything that’s worthwhile to a mother has gone, I should think.’
‘I don’t know what you know about being a mother,’ said Mother.
‘If you think it’s all about puttin’ religion before your fam’ly,’ said Aunt Edie, ‘you’ll deserve all you get.’
‘Kindly keep a civil tongue in your ’ead,’ said Mother.
‘My ’ead’s all right,’ said Aunt Edie, ‘it’s yours that ought to be examined.’
‘Oh, what impudence,’ said Mother, but Aunt Edie, in a rare paddy, delivered several more home truths. Mother, however, still remained adamant, and eventually departed with her umbrella, her handbag and many of her belongings. First she said goodbye to her family, telling them not to forget to go to church and to give all the food in the larder to the poor. Dad, livid, went over the top then and said bugger the poor. Betsy, unhappy and bewildered, hid her face in his waistcoat. Patsy, angry as well as upset, asked what about the neighbours, what were they supposed to tell the neighbours?
‘Tell them I’m doing my Christian duty,’ said Mother.
‘You’d better get on with it, then,’ said Jimmy. And Mother left, much to Aunt Edie’s disgust.
Silence descended on the family. Used as they were to Mother’s eccentric ways, to have her go off like this was a shock. Aunt Edie was in such a rage about it that she was hard put to contain herself. It was little Betsy who broke the silence, after gulping down a sob.
‘Dad, don’t Mum really like us any more?’
Dad, knowing he had some cheering up to do, said, ‘Course she does, Betsy love.’ He gave her a cuddle. ‘She’s only goin’ away for a bit. She’ll be back.’ She’d bloody better, he said to himself. ‘She’s just got a few problems, that’s all.’
‘So ’ave we now,’ said Patsy.
‘Don’t you worry, Patsy, we’ll sort ourselves out,’ said Jimmy.
‘You bet,’ said Dad.
‘And there’s me,’ said Aunt Edie, who had already made up her mind about what she was going to do. ‘I’d like to talk to you again, Jack.’
‘All right, Edie,’ said Dad. ‘Won’t be a tick, kids, then we’ll see about gettin’ a meal a bit later, eh?’
‘I can make some corned beef sandwiches,’ said Patsy, ‘and we could ’ave a proper meal tonight.’
‘Good girl,’ said Dad, and took Aunt Edie to the parlour.
There she told him what she proposed to do. She would come and stay every weekend, she said. She’d been with her firm a long time and the manager would let her have some Saturday mornings off. Then she’d be able to come on Friday evenings and leave for her work on Monday mornings. Of course, whenever Maud was home, she would keep out of the way. She said it was only right that Betsy and Patsy should have a woman around some days each week.
‘Edie, you can’t give up your weekends just for us,’ said Dad.
‘I don’t call it givin’ them up,’ said Aunt Edie, ‘I’m a relative, so I call it bein’ a useful member of the fam’ly.’
‘But it’s not as if they’re still young kids, they’re all old enough to muck in and—’
‘Jimmy’s old enough, but Patsy and Betsy are of an age when they’re entitled to be out enjoyin’ themselves with their friends,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘I’ll do the cookin’ and washin’, and go over the house, and stop lookin’ at me as if I’m incapable.’
‘All right, mind my eye,’ said Dad with a grin. ‘I know you’re not incapable.’
‘Also,’ said Aunt Edie, ‘it’s not right you gettin’ landed with this kind of problem. You’ve been a good ’usband and father, don’t think I ’aven’t noticed what’s been goin’ on between you and Maud since you come ’ome from the war.’
‘Still, there’s been a few laughs on the way,’ said Dad.
‘Don’t make me spit,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Your wife’s already been a trial to me. But I’m ’er cousin, and it’s up to me to make up for what she’s doin’ to ’er fam’ly. I wouldn’t be much of an aunt to Betsy and Patsy if I couldn’t ’elp out a bit at weekends. I’m not goin’ to let you say no to me.’
‘Stop hittin’ me over me head,’ said Dad.
‘Someone should,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Imagine you lettin’ Maud do what she’s doin’, instead of givin’ her a good ’iding.’
‘I can’t do that, Edie, I’ve never hit a woman in me life, I don’t ’old with it.’
‘You could ’ave done something to stop ’er goin’.’
‘I wasn’t goin’ to tie her up,’ said Dad.
‘Pity,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Still, she’s ’opped it now and it’s up to me to ’elp out. Besides, it’ll be good for me. I’ve only ever ’ad to look after meself, and it’s got to be good for me to think of others for a change.’
‘Well, I feel it’s askin’ a lot of you,’ said Dad.
‘Who’s askin’? You’re not. I’m offerin’.’
‘Yes, I know, but—’
‘No buts, Jack. I’m goin’ down the market now, then I’ll go ’ome and pack a few weekend things, then I’ll be back ’ere till Tuesday mornin’ as it’s Bank Holiday. I’ll get supper this evenin’, and in between I’ll see if the ’ouse needs goin’ over. Your bedroom does for a start . . . oh, I could ‘it that wife of yours.’
‘Take it easy, old girl,’ said Dad. ‘And look, don’t be surprised if the neighbours start talkin’.’
‘Blow the neighbours,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Neighbours always talk.’
‘I’m thinkin’ of you, Edie, not me.’
‘Thanks,’ said Aunt Edie, who had very personal reasons for doing what she proposed to do. ‘Where’s Jimmy? He can come with me and tell me what shoppin’ to get for you. Is there a joint of meat in the house for tomorrow’s dinner?’
‘No, I was goin’ out meself with Patsy this afternoon to get a few things for the larder,’ said Dad.
‘Tell me what you want, and me and Jimmy’ll get them.’
‘Edie, you’re doin’ a sergeant-major job on me,’ said Dad.
‘Is it ’urting?’ asked Aunt Edie.
‘Not much, I’m used to sergeant-majors,’ said Dad, and Aunt Edie gave him a searching look. His wife was being a real headache to him, and a real worry to their children. But he was standing up to it like a man, and she knew him well enough to know he’d fight tooth and nail to do all he could for his upset kids, even if he was reluctant to put his wife over his knees and give her something different to think about. Patsy and Jimmy were both showing a bit of their dad’s toughness. It was little Betsy who couldn’t hide her unhappiness, although even she had had moments when she was able to giggle.
Aunt Edie couldn’t help thinking what a silly bitch Maud Andrews was not
to realize exactly what a fine husband and lovely kids she had. Right, thought Aunt Edie, you’d better watch out, Maud.
Aunt Edie had principles, but one or two of them could be stretched a bit.
CHAPTER FOUR
Aunt Edie, sallying forth, entered the East Street market, Jimmy beside her. She had a soft spot for Jimmy. Like his dad, he was good-natured, and was tickled that she’d asked him to go shopping with her. She was an arresting figure in the bright summer dress that shaped her form on this warm August day, and her large flower-bedecked hat was a picture in itself. It caught the eyes of stallholders. It made one call out to her.
‘Where’d yer get that ’at, love, where’d yer get yer titfer,
Oh, gawd blimey, are yer sure it fits yer?’
‘None of your sauce,’ said Aunt Edie and sailed on.
There was something different about her, thought Jimmy. She was always cheerful and outgoing. Today she looked as if she was meeting an exciting challenge. She was going to come every weekend to cook, to do the washing and to go through the house. And she was going to give special attention to Betsy and Patsy. Jimmy didn’t think there was anything very exciting about that. It was just housework, and hardly any kind of challenge. But there she was, looking as if she was on top of the world. And she knew how to shop in a market, how to spot a stallholder trying to slip a bruised apple in with good ones.
‘Oh, no you don’t, me lad.’
‘What’s that, missus?’
‘I’ll give you what’s that if you give me a rotten apple.’
‘Eh? Well, blow me, ’ow did that one get in?’
‘You slipped it in. I wasn’t born yesterday, I’ll ’ave you know.’
‘Wish you ’ad been, I’d take you ’ome to me missus. Now, ’ow about a nice bunch of grapes, seein’ it’s ’oliday weekend?’
‘Yes, I’ll have a bunch of grapes. No, not that one, that one.’
‘Grapes, Aunt Edie?’ queried Jimmy.
‘My treat,’ said Aunt Edie.
‘You always were a sport,’ said Jimmy.
‘Now some of them cookin’ apples,’ said Aunt Edie to the stallholder, ‘five big ones.’
‘Best in the market, they are, missus.’
‘They’d better be,’ said Aunt Edie, ‘or you’ll cop it when I next come round. I want some bananas too. Young bananas, not ones dyin’ of old age.’
She was like that with most of her market shopping. In the butcher’s shop, she had the butcher swearing his legs of mutton were so fresh they were still nearly walking about.
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Still nearly walkin’ about?’
‘That’s right, missus, they only just stopped.’
‘Did you ’ear that, Jimmy?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Jimmy, ‘now ask him if that sheep’s head over there is still nearly talkin’.’
‘Funny you should mention that,’ said the butcher, ‘it spoke its last words only five minutes ago.’
‘All right,’ said Aunt Edie, eyeing a generous leg of mutton, ‘what did it say?’
‘’Ello, sailor, ’ow’s yer grandma?’
‘Just as well it fell dead, then, if it can’t talk sense,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Kindly weigh that leg for me.’
‘Prime meat, that is, missus.’
‘I’ll bring it back if it isn’t,’ said Aunt Edie.
Jimmy thought her a real eye-opener. She made shopkeepers and stallholders sit up and perk up. She left them with grins all over their faces.
‘I like you, Aunt Edie,’ he said when they had finished the shopping.
‘Didn’t you like me before, then?’
‘Like you more today.’
‘That’s not a joke?’ said Aunt Edie. Jimmy always looked as grave as an owl when he was joking, and he was grave now.
‘Well, life bein’ serious most of the time,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I can make jokes.’
Aunt Edie laughed. ‘That’s a joke itself,’ she said. ‘Well, now we’ve got everything, you can carry it ’ome with you while I – no, wait a bit, you can come to Camberwell on the tram with me. You’re a young man now, and it’s time you gave me the pleasure of escortin’ me. Here, hold the shoppin’ bag for me first of all.’
Amid the market crowds Jimmy said, ‘D’you mind if I point out that carryin’ a shoppin’ bag can ruin a bloke’s standin’, Aunt Edie?’
‘Well, dearie me, what a shame,’ said Aunt Edie.
‘All right, give it here,’ said Jimmy. ‘I’ll risk me standin’.’
Aunt Edie laughed. She handed the laden bag to him, and they made their way through the market to the Walworth Road tram stop. She was happy about her purchases, some of which were the kind of bargains one could always get in the market, even on a crowded Saturday morning. Dad had insisted on giving her housekeeping money for the weekend.
Near the tram stop in the Walworth Road was a group of ex-Servicemen. Forming a little band, they were playing for coppers, coppers that some passers-by tossed into a hat on the kerbside. Aunt Edie found a silver threepenny-bit in her purse and dropped it into the hat.
‘Bless yer, lady.’
Aunt Edie and Jimmy went on to the tram stop, Aunt Edie saying, ‘That poor mother of yours, Jimmy.’ It was the first time she had mentioned her cousin during the shopping expedition. ‘Like your dad says, she can’t ’elp bein’ religious, but if she’s that keen on goin’ after sinners, she ought to start on the Government first. The war’s been over nearly five years, but there’s still old soldiers out of work and ’aving to earn a few pennies like those men, by playin’ accordions and suchlike in gutters. There can’t be anything more sinful than any Government lettin’ that ’appen.’
‘Good point, Aunt Edie,’ said Jimmy. ‘I’d like to see Mum chargin’ into the Houses of Parliament and settin’ about all of them with her umbrella.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Aunt Edie, who plainly felt it was her cousin who ought to be set about. She eyed the traffic impatiently. She wanted to get on with things. There were still many horse-drawn vehicles about. The law required them to keep clear of tram tracks, but the drivers of vehicles such as beer drays considered their claim to rights of way went back a bleeding sight longer than electric trams. Accordingly, a tram could often be seen moving slowly along behind a lumbering beer dray, the frustrated tram driver clanging away and looking for a bobby, and the stubborn dray driver taking his time to move over to join traffic on the left of the tram tracks. Street kids always hoped it would lead to a fight. A good pair of fists earned the total admiration of street kids anywhere.
With no tram coming their way at the moment, Aunt Edie and Jimmy spotted a little open cart approaching. It was drawn by a sleek brown pony, and was painted in decorative blue and gold. At the reins sat a pearly king, his cap, jacket and trousers sparkling in the sunshine with a myriad of pearl buttons. He saw Aunt Edie.
‘Whoa there, Poppy,’ he said to his pony, and pulled up beside the kerb. ‘Watcher, Edie, me peach, where yer goin’?’
‘I’m just standin’ still at the moment, waitin’ for a tram ’ome,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Had a do this mornin’, ’ave you, Joe?’
Joe Gosling’s broad and ruddy face spread in a large grin. In the back of his cart sat his daughter, fourteen-year-old Hetty, holding a bunch of flowers. ‘Just a bit of a do for some Old Kent Road kids,’ he said, ‘an’ makin’ sure all of ’em won a prize. Got time orf from me work.’ He was a park attendant, employed by the local council. ‘Well, good cause, yer know, Edie. An’ they give ’Etty a bunch o’ flowers, which she’s rapturous about, ain’t yer, ’Etty?’
Hetty didn’t reply. She was staring woodenly at Jimmy.
‘Sweet girl, your Hetty,’ said Aunt Edie drily.
‘Ain’t she just?’ said Joe. ‘’Ere, ’op up, Edie, and I’ll ride yer ’ome. ’Oo’s yer young man there?’
‘Well, ’e’s not my young man,’ said Aunt Edie. ‘Worse luck,’
she added, and laughed. ‘He’s Jimmy, my nephew.’
‘Well, good on yer, Jimmy, you ’op up too, along side of ’Etty,’ said Joe, ‘and I’ll cart both of yer to Camberwell. It’s yer lucky day, me lad, yer’ll like ’Etty.’
Jimmy had reservations about that. But he placed the shopping bag aboard, and while Aunt Edie climbed up to sit beside Joe, he swung himself into the cart by using a wheel spoke as leverage. He sat down on the narrow board seat opposite Hetty. She was in white. Her hat, frock, shoes and stockings were all white, and she looked like a kind of angelic Alice in Wonderland, except that she didn’t seem very taken with Wonderland. Joe clucked at Poppy, the pony, and the cart started to run.
‘Nice day,’ said Jimmy to Hetty. She stared sullenly at him. ‘If you like it hot. How’d you feel about August?’
‘Mind yer own bleedin’ business,’ said Alice in Wonderland.
‘Well, I thought I’d ask,’ said Jimmy amiably.
‘No-one asked yer to ask.’
‘All right, I’ll shut up, shall I?’
‘What’s yer name?’
‘No idea,’ said Jimmy who could always play someone else’s game.
‘Yer bloomin’ daft,’ said Hetty.
‘Well, nobody’s perfect,’ said Jimmy. ‘We’ve all got some complaint.’
Hetty sniffed and gave up. Joe was talking to Aunt Edie. Jimmy listened.
‘Yer a lively one, you are, Edie. Lively as a gel, you always was, and yer still that way. Pearly queen of South Camberwell, you are, and yer got ’igh-falutin’ legs.’
‘High what?’ said Aunt Edie, large hat dancing to the trotting rhythm of the pony.
‘I’m speakin’ frank of them fancy pins o’ yourn,’ said Joe.
‘Well, you watch I don’t pickle that fancy tongue of yours,’ said Aunt Edie.
Joe grinned, cracked a playful whip and lightly tweaked the reins. The trotting pony overtook a slow-moving cart piled high with sacks of dry-smelling wheat for a flour mill. They ran along the tram track for a brief while before rejoining the stream of Saturday traffic. They passed two little girls trundling their iron hoops over the pavement. A tram clanged loudly past the cart. It had no effect on the pony.
The Pearly Queen Page 5
