‘Just look at ’em,’ she hissed. ‘All fussing around him. They ain’t got a clue how I’m suffering.’
She altered her tone to a pitiful whine. ‘It’s terrible indoors, Ted. Really terrible. Him and the boys sitting around with faces like fiddles, with not a thought of what I’m going through now I’ve got no one to help me. I hate it living there with them. Really hate it. I told Dad I should have the big bedroom now, but he wouldn’t even hear of it. And you should hear the things he says to me. And you can’t imagine what it’s like, Ted, having to push that bloody pram in and out of the passage with Dad’s bike to get past.’
‘You finished moaning?’ Ted asked, smiling down at Susan as he chucked her under the chin, making her giggle happily.
Dilys shrugged. ‘You do want me to be happy, don’t you, Ted?’ She sipped her drink daintily. ‘Just look at him.’ She jerked her thumb towards her dad, whom Ginny had propped against the wall while she opened the door. ‘Fancy having to live with that. I can’t stand it no more, Ted. I really can’t.’
She grimaced with revulsion as Sid looped his arm affectionately round his dad’s shoulders. ‘Pathetic.’ She dropped her chin and made miserable little sniffling noises. ‘You’ve gotta do something, Ted. You’ve just gotta.’
Slowly she raised her eyes and blinked pitifully at him. ‘If not for me, then for this poor little love.’
‘Thanks, Gin,’ Sid said, letting the pub door close with a slam behind them. ‘Me and Micky’ll see to him. And I’m sorry about what he said just now.’
‘It’s all right. I know he’s had too much to drink.’ Ginny stepped aside to let the two burly young men take over.
‘What did he say to you then, Gin?’ Micky asked, as he took George’s weight against his shoulder.
Sid flashed a look of warning at his younger brother. ‘Can’t you keep your gob shut just for once, Micky?’
‘What? I never heard what he said, that’s all.’
‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Ginny love,’ George slurred. ‘I never meant nothing.’
‘What you upset about then, Gin?’ Micky asked.
‘Micky, are you gonna belt up?’
Ginny could see the anger flaring in Sid’s face. She laid her hand gently on his chest and said quietly, ‘Leave him alone, Sid. I don’t want no rows started on my part. Just get George off home, eh?’
‘All right. Thanks.’
Sid and his brother stood one on either side of their now weeping father and gently guided him along the street, leaving Ginny in the doorway, watching them make their way back to the emptiness of number 11.
Without warning, George stopped dead in his tracks, threw back his head and a great shuddering sob shook through his body. ‘It was her getting herself into trouble what caused all this. My Pearl wouldn’t be laying in that cold ground if it wasn’t for her.’
Sid squeezed his arm, encouraging him to start moving again. ‘It was an accident, Dad, you know that.’
George shook his head, as he reluctantly shuffled forward between his sons. ‘Your mum never said nothing to no one, but I could tell. I knew what she was thinking. She had it on her mind all the time. Every minute of the day. Day in day out. She wasn’t concentrating when she crossed that road. I’m telling you, it would never have happened otherwise.’
He flicked his tongue at the trail of snot that dripped from his moustache. ‘If I ever find the bastard what got that girl pregnant I’ll kill him. I swear on my Pearl’s grave, I will.’
Micky’s chin was set with fury. One way or another, whoever it was who had made his dad cry – his dad whom he had never seen shed so much as a single tear – was going to pay. ‘You don’t have to worry yourself about that, Dad,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Me and Sid’ll sort the whoreson out good and proper.’
If they hadn’t been holding up their dad between them, Sid would have grabbed Micky by the throat and shaken the silly little sod till his teeth rattled. ‘Think before you open that cakehole o’ your’n for once, can’t you, Micky?’
It wasn’t the first time that Sid had felt like thumping his little brother. Micky was so hot-headed, Sid was sure it would land him in real schtuck one day. All right, so they’d discussed between them, plenty of times, what they’d do to the lousy no-good who’d dumped their sister – and Sid was growing more and more convinced that he knew who the bastard was, and it wasn’t some American soldier – but mouthing off about it in front of their dad, especially just a couple of hours after their mum had been laid to rest, well, that was just about the last thing any of them needed.
Sid would bide his time and he just hoped that Micky would do the same.
‘So it’s like this see, now I’m getting this new motor, I won’t be needing this one no more.’ Ted patted the bonnet of the Talbot as though it were a much-loved family pet. ‘And I thought, I know, it might come in handy as a runabout for Mr Roberts and his good lady. You are a married man, aren’t you, Mr Roberts?’
The man in the cheap-looking brown suit rubbed his sweaty palms dry on the seat of his trousers, leaving a greasy slick on the already shiny cloth. ‘I am indeed, Mr Martin. And am proud to be the father of two lovely little girls into the bargain.’
Ted smiled beatifically and slapped the man on his skinny shoulder. ‘Two little girls, eh? You are a man truly blessed. And, I’m sure you have to agree, this here vehicle could only add to those blessings.’
Mr Roberts looked warily over his shoulder. They might have been standing well away from the street light, in a rain-slicked, deserted back-street in Hoxton, but a man in his position, a council officer, could not be too careful. Everyone in the town hall knew that everyone else was on the make, ready to take a bung or a backhander for all sorts of little favours, it was common knowledge, but proving it was another matter and there was no point in handing it to them on a plate.
He licked his lips anxiously, his wet tongue flicking around his narrow mouth in a curiously obscene display of intimate bright-pink flesh. He knew what he had to ask next, but how to phrase it?
‘What sort of cost would that entail then, Mr Martin? Buying a fine motor vehicle such as this? Probably out of my sort of price range, I shouldn’t wonder. But who knows, eh? Trouble is, a chap like me might have excellent job security and a fine pension plan – a very fine pension plan, in fact – but I’m afraid the actual wages are a very different matter.’
Ted flashed him one of his specials, a real winner of a smile that made the sides of his eyes crinkle as though he really meant it. ‘Look here, Mr Roberts, I am going to sell this motor, because I am now fortunate enough to own an MG.’
Mr Roberts cooed in appreciation at such bounty.
‘And you know me from our previous dealings,’ Ted went on. ‘I like to spread me good fortune about a bit.’
Mr Roberts was practically wetting himself at the thought that he might soon be driving around in a Talbot! It would take a bit of explaining to his colleagues, of course, but maybe he could invent an aged uncle. Of Ellen’s, of course, not of his. He would be called Bernard, Uncle Bernard, and he would have left the Talbot to them in his will. Perfect!
Mr Roberts couldn’t resist a little smirk at his own guileful inventiveness.
‘Spread your good fortune, Mr Martin? So how would that relate to this instance, then?’
‘Well, Mr Roberts, let’s see.’ Ted clapped the man matily around the shoulder. ‘You know the old saying, you scratch my back . . .’
‘I do indeed.’ Here it comes, thought Roberts, just about able to stop himself from drooling.
‘Now, I have this friend, a young lady. Tragic story, Mr Roberts. Her fiancé, the father of her little kiddie, her only child I might add, was killed in the most terrible accident. Just two weeks before the wedding. In the RAF he was. Testing one o’ them new secret bombing planes. You know, the ones what’re gonna keep us all safe so we never have to have another world war again.’ Ted took off his hat to show respect fo
r the non-existent hero, shaking his head in sadness at such misfortune. ‘I don’t have to explain to a man such as yourself, Mr Roberts, that it was all kept very hush-hush.’ Ted tapped his index finger on the side of his nose. ‘Walls have ears, as they say.’
Roberts arranged his face into a suitably sombre expression. ‘They have indeed.’
‘Well,’ Ted wrapped his arm round Roberts’s shoulders, ‘what I was wondering like, was how you’d be disposed to finding the little lady, this good friend of my family’s, some sort of a place to live? She wouldn’t be expecting no Butlin’s holiday camp, just something nice. So’s I can visit her privately, to offer me sympathy without anyone knowing what a charitable man I am.’
Ted winked and dangled the car key tantalisingly in front of Roberts’s eyes, twirling it between his fingers so that it glittered and flashed in the light from the street lamp. ‘And without getting no bugs while I’m there. If you catch me drift.’
Ginny unknotted her headscarf, stuffed it in her pocket and threw her coat across the end of the banister. ‘It’s only me, Nell,’ she called.
‘Mum ain’t in.’
Ginny stood in the kitchen doorway, her eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘No?’ Ted flipped the Evening News shut and tossed it to one side. ‘Who was you expecting then? The milkman? The landlord? The coalman?’
‘Leave off, Ted.’ Ginny heaved her bag on to the draining board and began unpacking the shopping. ‘Where’s Nelly got to, then?’
‘She went round Dilys’s.’
Ginny twisted round to look at him, a loaf still in her hand. He was leaning back easily in his chair, with his hands linked across his firm, muscled stomach, staring at her.
She couldn’t deny it, he could still make the blood thump in her ears. He was a good-looking man all right. In fact, at getting on for thirty years old Ted Martin was more handsome than ever. If she didn’t know him better, she might almost be tempted to believe that he would still change . . .
With a quick swallow and a little shake of her head to clear her mind, Ginny said hurriedly, ‘No, I don’t think she is. There was no lights on across the street when I come along just now. And you know Dilys, she always turns ’em on full pelt, even at this time of evening.’
Ted yawned loudly, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘Dilys ain’t over the road no more.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘Her and the little ’un have been given a prefab. Down Stepney. The bloke come round to tell her today.’
‘A prefab?’
‘You ain’t gonna start that bleed’n’ parrot lark, are you?’
‘But—’
‘Now I’m here, I might as well have a bit of something for me tea. What we got then?’
Ginny turned back to the shopping bags and carried on the unpacking. ‘I’ve got some corned beef. I was gonna make a hash.’ Her voice was flat, dull with shock.
Ted opened up the paper again. ‘That’ll do.’
Ginny was no longer listening to him. All she could think was that Susan, her lovely little Susan, was no longer just across the street waiting with chubby, outstretched arms for Ginny to lift her high into the air and to cover her soft baby face with kisses.
What was wrong with her; what had she done that was so bad that meant every bit of happiness, every dream she ever had, was always snatched away from her?
Her family. Her hopes for her marriage to Ted. Then Pearl. Now Susan . . . How much more could she take?
It was a golden autumn evening and Ted was enjoying himself. He had the slanting rays of the last of the sun warming his back; he was being admired; and he was lapping up every single bit of attention, every envious or appreciative glance, as he drove along the busy streets with the top of his MG rolled back, showing him and his motor off in all their handsome glory.
Ted especially relished the attention from the girls, of course, many of whom seemed prepared to do everything short of throwing themselves in front of his wheels for the chance of a ride with a man like him in a car like his.
At first, however, the car hadn’t proved to be such an asset. In fact, it had been a bloody millstone and Ted had seriously considered getting rid of it.
First there was the law. He had had no more trouble from the plain-clothes mob – Saunders had obviously moved on to making someone else’s life a misery and had called off his grasses – but every time Ted drove past a uniformed copper, anywhere around his usual manor, they were on him like a ton of bricks. How could he afford such a vehicle, him with no apparent means of support? They had always ignored the Talbot, but the flashy lines of the MG just seemed to get to them for some reason. But, in the end, coppers were only human and were as keen on getting their hands on a bit of steak and a few luxuries for the old woman as anyone else. And after a few weeks he had given a little sweetener to just about every Old Bill from Plaistow to the Aldgate pump. That was one problem off his back.
But then there was Dilys. Ted had just about had enough of her. Every time he went round to the prefab she wanted to go out in the car with him and would lead off alarming if he dared refuse her. If it wasn’t for Susan – who, he didn’t know why but he couldn’t help it, had really got under his skin – he wouldn’t have gone within a mile of Dilys and her bloody prefab. He wished he’d never set eyes on the silly tart.
He was on his way to Dilys’s now and was dreading her starting again. He had almost not bothered, but someone he’d done a deal with the night before had quite unexpectedly presented him with the prettiest china doll he had ever seen. The bloke had meant it as a gift for Ted’s wife, a little extra to thank him for his ‘custom’. It was the sort of thing that birds liked to sit on their beds as a decoration, he had said. But the moment Ted had seen it he knew he had to give it to his little Susan. He could just imagine the expression on her face when she saw the dolly, almost as tall as her; and with its pretty dress and lacy bonnet she’d go mad for it.
He was just turning off the Mile End Road and into Stepney Green when a particularly shapely backside wiggling along in the same direction caught his eye. The girl was balanced on such high heels and her dress was so tight that she could just about walk.
He slowed down to a crawl and drove along behind her, waiting for her to realise she was being followed and to turn round so he could see what sort of a boat went with such an appealing chassis. If he approved, he’d give her the full treatment: the smile, the chat, the whole bit. He could always take the dolly round another day.
It didn’t take long for the woman to cotton on. She stopped, paused and slowly swivelled round.
As she did so, Ted eased on his brake.
At the moment their eyes met it would have been difficult to guess who was the most surprised.
‘Lilly!’
‘Ted!’
Ted was out of the car in a flash and grasping her arm. ‘It is you, ain’t it, you little whore?’
‘Let go of me.’ Lilly tried to pull away from him, but Ted was much stronger than her and had the advantage of not being balanced on top of a pair of almost four-inch heels.
‘D’you know what you did to me?’
‘Nothing. I ain’t done nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ Ted’s fingers pinched into the soft flesh inside her upper arm. ‘Is that what you call it? That arsehole Saunders tells two of his bastards to give me a good hiding. They beat me black and blue and leave me to fucking freeze to death. But you reckon it’s nothing?’
Lilly didn’t even try to hide the contempt she felt. ‘You got beaten black and blue? Poor you.’
‘Don’t you get lippy with me, you filthy little trollop.’
‘I ain’t scared o’ you, Ted Martin. Mr Saunders is looking after me.’
‘Well you should be scared, darling. ’Cos d’you know what, because of you grassing me to that shit I had to shift me business interests away from that bastard’s turf – my turf I should
say – and I ain’t very happy about it.’
‘Ain’t you? Aw, poor little baby.’ Lilly stuck her chin defiantly in the air. She could feel her blood pumping round her body as though she’d run all the way to the West End and back, but she knew she had to try and keep some sort of control of the situation. No one was going to stop and help her if Ted started, not in an area like this where respectable families going about their business looked down on the likes of her. Even though some of the husbands were probably amongst her customers, if one of her sort got a whacking, they’d all look the other way or come over all moral and say it was what they deserved. If only she hadn’t promised to come and get Marge on the way to work this would never have happened. The lazy cow would just have to get herself up and ready for the club in future.
Ted pushed his face close to hers. ‘You ain’t learned to shut that smart mouth of yours then?’
‘Let go of me, Ted. ’Cos if you even touch me, I swear—’
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You really ain’t got it, have you?’
‘Got what?’
He dragged her across the pavement and threw her roughly into the car. She landed awkwardly and knocked the china doll that had been propped on the passenger seat crashing to the floor.
‘You stupid bitch!’ he breathed. ‘Now you’ve really got me upset.’
‘Hun at three o’clock!’
Young Tom Copley, a scrawny, scabby-kneed boy, with thick-lensed National Health glasses wound tightly round his ears, held both arms out wide, as he flew around the bomb-site near his house in Wapping with his best pal, Charlie Tillotson. Every shot they fired, at any German fool enough to dare invade their air space, hit home with deadly accuracy. They were the heroes of the RAF. The fad with the Olympics already forgotten, the boys, just like their comic-book favourites, had returned to their all-absorbing passion of Playing War.
‘Nnnnneeeeowwww!’ Tom whined down his nose as he swerved in a wide ark to confront the enemy.
Charlie, his plane imitation momentarily forgotten, pulled the pin on an invisible hand grenade and lobbed it into a German dug-out. ‘Cop that, Fritzy!’ he yelled, throwing himself to the ground and covering his head to protect himself from the explosion.
Dream On Page 16
