Trouble In Paradise

by Pip Granger

  I was bringing up his considerable rear when I heard him squeal, ‘Ooh! I say!’ And he stopped dead so that I barged into him. Once I was free of Ronnie’s back, the first thing I noticed was the reek of Evening in Paris. The second thing I noticed was Mavis standing next to Charlie in the middle of my kitchen, and the third thing was that they both looked guilty and flustered. Even so, it took a moment for the penny to drop.

  ‘What do you say, Ronnie?’ I asked, innocently, though my heart was racing. What had I almost seen?

  ‘I say, WHAT’S going on here?’ Ronnie answered. ‘Or I would if I was you. I think some delecto is being flagranted right in the middle of your very own kitchen, dolly.’

  I tried not to laugh, but suddenly my heart was as light as a Granny Smallbone sponge cake. ‘I think you could be right, Ronnie. They certainly look like a pair of startled rabbits. What’s the matter, Charlie, Mavis still got your tongue? You’ve certainly got her lipstick, almost up to your eyebrows.’

  Charlie found his bluster. ‘It ain’t what it looks like.’

  I laughed. ‘Oh yes it is, Charlie. Oh yes it is. I think I’ll be leaving you now. I’ll just pick up some things and I’ll be back for the rest when you’re tucked up in Catterick. Can you wait for me, Ronnie?’

  ‘Until hell melts and heaven dies of boredom, dolly, or at least until opening time, when I’m meeting a man about a … Well, never you mind about that. Until then, I’m all yours.’

  Charlie followed me into the bedroom with Mavis close behind. Piccadilly Circus in the rush hour had nothing on that room: we were so squeezed in, there was barely room to swing a corset. Ronnie, not to be left out, hovered at the threshold, grinning. I started throwing clothes into a canvas bag as Charlie began to pull himself together.

  ‘You’re my wife,’ he told me. ‘You ain’t leaving.’

  I had my mouth open to tell him that I was, when something rammed him hard in the kidneys, shooting him forward a few steps. It was a red-faced Mavis. ‘And I’m your fiancée, Charlie Fluck, and I’ve got the ring to prove it, so don’t you forget it. If she wants to go, let her go. You’ve got me now.’

  I stopped packing. Of course! Mavis’s mystery fiancé. I’d forgotten him in the heat of the moment. ‘Seems you’ve neglected a little formality there, Charlie,’ I sneered. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be single before you get engaged to someone?’

  I continued to pack. Just enough for a few days; that should do it. I was ever so calm and methodical. Three pairs of drawers, brassière, clean blouse, clean skirt, cardigan, nightie, dressing gown, toothbrush, hairbrush and comb. In it all went, and the years of misery and fear were left behind, along with my wedding ring, which I placed in the very middle of my marriage bed. I checked my handbag for my purse, ration books, keys, compact, lipstick, mascara, nub of eyebrow pencil and clean hanky. It was all there.

  ‘Right, that’ll do for now. I’ll be back for the rest in a day or two, when I find my feet a bit.’ When I moved towards the door with my bag, Charlie stepped into my path, face white and pinched. I knew that look. My heart lurched and then began to beat faster. I ducked instinctively but Ronnie stepped forward too, showing he was ready to intervene should things turn ugly. He was much bigger than Charlie, and much more powerful from heaving socking great wet ropes about. He had the arms of an all-in wrestler – which is why he looked a little odd when he wore anything strapless, with evening gloves. However, he was in his civvies that day and he just looked awfully big.

  ‘You ain’t going nowhere, I told you,’ Charlie hissed and grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into me until I winced and let out a little squeal under my breath.

  ‘That’ll do, Charlie.’ Ronnie heaved Charlie’s spare arm up his back until he was forced to let me go. Ronnie didn’t let go, though; he dragged Charlie back into the kitchen and threw him at the wall opposite the flat door, then stood between Charlie and my way out. All the while, Mavis just stood there, hands up to her mouth as if stifling a scream. Perhaps she was; after all, it didn’t do to alert the neighbours to your domestics. They had to be carried out behind closed doors, even if you died for it. But not me. I was off. I turned to her.

  ‘Good luck, Mavis. I really do wish you luck.’ And I was out on the landing and almost tripping down the stairs in my rush to get out of there. I virtually skipped round to Zinnia’s, I felt so relieved. All that dread, all that terror, all those rehearsals of what I was going to say, all for nothing. In the end, it had been so easy I could hardly believe my luck. I could’ve blessed Mavis, made her a saint there and then.

  The thought stopped me in my tracks. The trouble was, all the saints were dead, and I hoped fervently that that wouldn’t happen to my cousin. She might have been sneaking around with my old geezer behind my back, and she didn’t know she was doing me a favour, she must’ve thought she was betraying me – but even so, she still didn’t deserve to be lumbered with Charlie.

  ‘I’ll have to warn her,’ I said out loud.

  ‘What? Warn who, dolly?’

  ‘Mavis.’

  ‘Why? She’s your old man’s bit of sly and a blood relative who did the dirty on you. Warn her about what, anyway? My plus is nonned, dolly.’

  ‘I must warn her that Charlie’s violent when he’s on the bevvy,’ I answered.

  Ronnie’s face fell. ‘I s’pose you’re right. She should at least know. What she does about it is up to her. Still, you don’t have to do it now. Wait till Charlie’s safely behind barbed wire at his camp and tell her then, before you take off for pastures new – or even after. It might be safer after. Drop her a postcard or something.’

  I nodded. A postcard would do. ‘Dear Mavis, Charlie beats his wives, ‘specially when he’s tanked up. Thanks for everything, Zelda.’ That should do it. I smiled at the thought and carried on up the road.

  We bumped into Terry outside the King’s Head and regaled him with my news.

  ‘Mavis?’ was all he could say, then, ‘I must tell Dilly. I expect you’ll see her straight after work tomorrow night. She’ll want it from the nag’s mouth.’

  ‘Who are you calling a nag?’ I demanded, eyes sparking; the cheeky sod.

  ‘Nag as in old horse,’ explained Terry hastily, as if that made it any better. ‘Shall I tell her to nip round your mum’s, seeing you’ll not be at home?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, Dad won’t have me. I’m supposed to put up with anything Charlie sees fit to dish out. It’s my duty. So Dad’ll be shirty. No, I’ll be round at Zinnia’s.’

  ‘What’ve you two got on tonight? Fancy a drink somewhere?’ Terry asked.

  Ronnie declined graciously. ‘Not me, sweetie. I’ve got a date with a Yank, one of Chester’s friends.’

  ‘Gawd! You’re a quick worker. When’ve you had the chance to chat up any of Chester’s pals?’ I wanted to know. ‘How come I haven’t heard about this before?’ I hated to miss anything.

  ‘Keep your wig on, dolly. You have been a bit busy yourself, remember. Nobody’s seen you to keep you abreast of affairs, now have they? I bumped into Dilly and Chester in a jazz place off Wardour Street and Chester introduced me to some of his chums. Marlon and I just hit it off, that’s all. I don’t s’pose it’ll lead to anything of interest, but a girl never knows.’ Ronnie fluttered his eyelashes, but they were his own and therefore not up to much.

  I turned back to Terry, who was laughing gently to himself. ‘Why don’t you pop round Zinnia’s after your tea?’ I suggested. ‘I’ve got loads to tell you that you haven’t heard yet. P’raps we can go out for a drink later.’ Terry agreed and hurried off towards his shop.

  Ronnie and I carried on towards Paradise Gardens. I have to admit, I was in a daze. It was like being threatened with having your leg cut off and then getting a reprieve right on the operating table, only better. I had never expected to get away from Charlie so easily, or to be so firmly ‘in the right’ while I was doing it. Fancy old Charlie and Mavis being at it. I never saw it coming.

&nbs
p; Then I remembered the phantom whiffs of Evening in Paris I had had over the last few weeks. My hooter had been trying to tell me all along, I had just failed to understand the message. What was the point of being sent messages if they were in a code I couldn’t crack? It was bloody annoying.

  44

  Vi, Tony and I were in high spirits on the bus up West. Vi was agog to hear about our cousin and my husband, and that kept us amused all the way to town. Tony was just pleased to get away from hostile territory and not to have to keep looking over his shoulder.

  ‘I like it all right at the Rev.’s, Auntie Zelda. It’s just that it’s not where all my stuff is,’ he confided as we got off the bus in Oxford Street.

  ‘Well, neither’s your bedroom until we’ve got those walls distempered,’ his mum told him. ‘What’s more, Granny Smallbone was right, there are things under that bed of yours.’ She ruffled his hair and he leaned away from her, blushing.

  ‘Geroff,’ he said, but I could tell that he liked it.

  We arrived at Digby Burlap’s door, and climbed the stairs to his studio. ‘Ah, dear lady,’ he boomed at the sight of me. ‘Enter, enter do.’

  We traipsed in in single file as Mr Burlap beamed down at us. I introduced Vi, and Mr Burlap solemnly kissed her hand, much to her surprise. I had warned her that Tony’s teacher was a touch colourful, but she hadn’t realized the man was a complete rainbow.

  ‘Your son is very gifted, madam, I do hope you realize that. He is very musical, which might sound obvious, but not all musicians are, you know. And, of course, he has the gift of perfect pitch, which helps enormously. I understand his pianoforte studies are going well too?’

  Vi nodded proudly. ‘So Mrs Cattermole says. Of course, he’s very new to it, but she thinks he’s picking it up a treat.’

  ‘Oh excellent, dear lady, excellent.’ Mr Burlap clapped his hands together. ‘Right, are you two ladies staying or going?’

  ‘Going,’ I said. ‘But first, a message from Zinnia. She says to tell you that Frankie is looking after her and there has been no new outbreak of nastiness. She also said that her mind is made up. But she didn’t say what it was made up about.’

  ‘I can guess, dear lady, I can guess.’ Mr Burlap looked serious for the first time, and perhaps even a little nervous. ‘Did she say when she intended to enlighten me as to her decision?’

  ‘She said she’d be over to see you tomorrow, around dinnertime.’

  Mr Burlap nodded and said, ‘Ah.’ Then he waved a plump hand at us as Vi and I left.

  ‘Do you want to look round the shops?’ I asked half-heartedly. I was itching to get round to Maggie’s and ask about the possibilities of finding a place to live and a job to pay for it. Luckily, Vi agreed with my sense of urgency and was all for sitting down with a cup of tea and a mine of useful information in the ample form of Maggie.

  ‘Hello, Zelda,’ Maggie said cheerfully. ‘Tea for two, is it?’

  ‘Hello, Maggie. This is my sister, Vi. Can you make it tea for three if you’ve got time? I’d like to talk to you about something.’

  ‘Right you are. Take a seat at that table in the corner by the window and I’ll be over in two shakes of me tea strainer.’ She laughed. ‘Make that three shakes.

  ‘Bert, I’m going to have a break now. Can you cover?’ she called into the kitchen.

  ‘OK, love, out in a tick,’ came the answer.

  Vi and I made our way to the table, and Maggie busied herself with cups and saucers and a plate of digestive biscuits. Such luxury! The place was very quiet and nobody interrupted us as I explained my situation to Maggie.

  ‘Do you know,’ she said, ‘I’ve got a feeling that there’s a place next door falling vacant soon. I don’t know if Maltese Joe has anyone for it or not. Leave it with me, love, I’ll ask him. He’s a mate of my Bert.’

  ‘Did someone just use my name in vain?’ asked Bert, coming up behind me.

  I heard my sister gasp quietly. ‘Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Humphrey Bogart?’ she asked, before she could remember her manners.

  I kicked her under the table and smiled up at him. ‘Sorry about my sister, Vi, Bert. She can’t help it.’ I turned to Vi, who was laughing. ‘Vi, this is Maggie’s husband, Bert.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.’ Vi was still stifling a giggle.

  Luckily, Bert was laughing too. ‘As it happens, Vi, they have, but me and Maggie can’t see it ourselves. Can we, love?’

  ‘No,’ Maggie twinkled. ‘Humphrey Bogart looks a bit like my Bert to me. Zelda here is looking for a place round here, Bert, and a job. Was I right in thinking that the flat above Sharky could be empty soon?’

  ‘I dunno, Maggie, but I can find out for you.’ Bert turned to me, ‘How soon do you need it?’

  ‘As soon as possible,’ I answered. My heart was hammering so hard in my chest that I thought it must burst out into the open. It was all becoming real to me, bit by bit. I was still reeling from being let off the hook by Charlie and Mavis the afternoon before, and now these people were listening to me calmly, taking me seriously and offering to help. I was on my way.

  ‘As to work, am I right in thinking you work in catering?’ Bert asked.

  ‘Well, yes. I don’t do the actual cooking, I keep the place clean and tidy and serve the men at dinnertime,’ I answered, heart still going like the clappers.

  ‘It’s just that Maggie and me could do with a bit of a hand since we rejigged the place and got more tables in.’ He turned to Maggie. ‘What do you think, love? We’ve been talking about it long enough.’

  ‘I think it’s a good idea, if Zelda fancies it. It’ll be a start, won’t it?’ Maggie smiled at me.

  It would be a start indeed. We shook hands on it and talked about wages and when I could begin. ‘When you’re ready, love,’ Maggie told me. ‘We’ll still be here. We’ve managed this long, we can manage till you’re ready. It’ll be the same sort of thing as you’re doing now. Mucking in with the cleaning, taking orders, serving meals and teas. There’s not a lot to it, really.’

  Not to Maggie, maybe, but to me it was a means to a whole new beginning and I suddenly felt overwhelmed with gratitude to this lovely couple, as well as the unlovely couple that I’d surprised in my kitchen.

  The doorbell tinkled and a large belly came through the door, followed by Cassie. We moved chairs around so she could join us, and she sank gratefully into one of them.

  ‘Darlings, if I don’t drop this little blighter soon, I shall go stark, staring bonkers,’ she declared and we all laughed. I introduced Cassie to Vi and they smiled at each other. I could tell that Vi was a little intimidated by the very pregnant glamour-puss before her. Cassie was everything that Vi had always wanted to be: blonde, beautiful and posh. I wondered if she wanted those things still, or whether that had changed along with her newly revised attitude to life.

  ‘Tea, Cassie?’ Maggie asked, heaving herself to her feet. ‘Everyone else fancy a top-up?’

  There were cries of ‘Yes please’, and Maggie went to the counter to make it. I joined her to help carry the teapot, while she loaded a tray with cups for Bert and Cassie, a slop basin and strainer, a jug of milk and a bowl of precious sugar with two fresh spoons. She added another plate of digestives. Where did they get their sugar and biscuits? I was going to like working here, I just knew it. And no-one could be more different from Mrs Dunmore than Maggie and Bert, that was certain. I thought my face would split with the grin that spread across it.

  ‘Thank you Maggie.’ I said, tears of gratitude in my eyes. ‘I can’t tell you what it means to me.’

  ‘Thank Bert. It was his idea. I just agreed that it was a good one. And it’s true, we’ve been talking about getting help in for ages. It’s a bonus that we’re getting experienced help, believe me. Welcome aboard, Zelda.’ Maggie’s beam could’ve directed shipping safely into harbour. In a funny sort of way, I suppose it had.

  We rejoined the others and Cassie smiled at me. ‘I hear
you’re joining this happy little band. Bert was asking me about the top flat next door and as far as I know, Joe’s in the process of evicting the tenants for non-payment. He’s very cross, hopping mad in fact.’ She laughed, as if delighted with the notion of a hopping Maltese.

  Bert joined in. ‘They’re related to Joe. He reckons they should know better than to try to take the mickey like that,’ he chortled.

  ‘I should imagine it’ll come free soon. Mind you,’ Cassie warned me, ‘he’s said it before and they’ve mollified him with some rent. But if Bert puts in a word for you and, what’s more, assures Joe you’ll be paying rent on a regular basis, I’m sure that would swing it. They are very distant relatives, after all. Second cousins twice removed or something.’

  ‘You’ll have to make it clear to Joe, Bert,’ Maggie warned in a serious tone, ‘that Zelda here is a respectable girl. She’s not going to be working for him, she’s going to be working here, with us. We don’t want any mistakes or misunderstandings, Bert Featherby.’

  Bert held his hands up like a boxer defending his face. ‘All right, old girl. Keep your hair on. I’ll make a point of it.

  ‘Right, I’d better get me dinners on. You lot staying? It’s macaroni cheese or shepherd’s pie.’

  I plumped for the macaroni cheese, Vi had the shepherd’s pie, and Cassie had another cup of tea and her third fag. The girl was a chain-smoker in a time when that wasn’t easy, due to shortage of supply. Somebody kept this lot amazingly well supplied with all of life’s little luxuries.

  I began to think I had fallen on my feet – stockinged feet at that. I’d never seen either of these women in anything other than real, ladder-, hole-and darn-free stockings. They didn’t even have little dabs of wet soap on them, to stop snags from spreading. Of course, in times of plenty we used nail polish – it worked better than wet soap. But I had never seen the tell-tale splodges on either set of legs.