Everybody's Somebody

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Everybody's Somebody Page 30

by Beryl Kingston


  When they finally disbanded, he and another black-shirt called Henry, travelled on the Tooting tram together and they had the most splendid conversation. Henry was a fine chap. Worked in the City, so he knew what he was talking about and he said the only way out of the country’s problems was to get rid of the Jews.

  ‘They’re like tapeworms in the body politic,’ he said. He had a wonderful voice, very confident and loud. Everyone on the tram was looking at him. ‘They eat our life’s blood, filthy things. They need sorting out for good and all. That’s what they need. Well I tell you I won’t have anything in my house that’s been touched by a Jew and I certainly wouldn’t buy anything from one of them, ever. It’s a matter of principle.’

  ‘Quite right,’ Herbert agreed. ‘Neither would I. It’s a matter of principle with me too.’

  They talked all the way to the Broadway, where Herbert got off, and by the time they parted they were firm friends and promised to meet up again at the next demonstration. Herbert strode back to Totterdown Street feeling cock-a-whoop. If he’d been a vulgar sort of man, he’d have been whistling.

  He hung up his hat in his usual neat way and strode into the dining room, ready for his dinner. His two weedy little boys were playing one of their stupid card games.

  ‘Clear this rubbish off the table,’ he said to them, speaking sharply because the sight of them annoyed him so much. He should have had two fine manly boys, not a pair of weeds like them. ‘Look sharp or I’ll take the cane to you.’ It pleased him to see how quickly they scrambled the cards together and ran out of the room. That was the way to deal with weeds. Keep them on their toes. Kitty had better dish up his dinner PDQ or he’d have something to say to her. In fact he’d got quite a lot he wanted to say to her right now. She needed telling she wasn’t to buy anything from any Jewish shops. He straightened his tie and smoothed his hair and called for her.

  Kitty was in the kitchen carefully peeling the potatoes. He was so particular about his food and she didn’t want to provoke him by leaving any eyes in. She’d been talking to the twins, who’d run out of the dining room in a bit of a state, poor little things. But when she heard his bellow, she put the potatoes aside, dried her hands, told the boys to stay where they were and went to see what he wanted.

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘There you are. Now listen carefully. This is important.’

  She took up her listening-carefully position and waited.

  ‘Now,’ he said in his pompous way, ‘we’ve got some serious thinking to do. I’ve been speaking with some of the senior officers in the party and they are seriously of the opinion that the difficulties this country is presently experiencing could be ameliorated if more of us were to make a conscious decision not to have anything of Jewish origin in our homes and not to buy anything from any Jewish shops. That being so, from today, we will be following his instructions to the letter.’ How well that sounded and how inescapably true.

  Kitty gazed at him in disbelief, thinking how objectionable he was and wondering how he could possibly be so ridiculous and not realise it. Then he was talking again.

  ‘So tomorrow, I want you to sort out all the things in this house that were produced or sold by Jews and get rid of them. Is that understood?’

  She laughed at him. She really couldn’t help it. He was so ridiculous. ‘If I was to do that,’ she said, ‘I’d be walking about stark naked.’

  She was in danger of making him lose his temper. ‘Try not to be coarse,’ he said, sneering at her.

  ‘It ain’t coarse,’ she said, laughing again. ‘It’s the gospel truth. I ain’t got a stitch a’ clothin’ I ain’t bought from Petticoat Lane, either from ol’ Mr Segal or Mr Levy. An’ while we’re on about it, you couldn’t find a kinder pair a’ men than them two.’

  ‘They’re Jews!’ he shouted at her. ‘Dirty filthy Jews. They’re tapeworms in the body politic. That’s what they are. Tapeworms in the body politic. They need putting down, every last one of them.’ He was into his stride now and enjoying himself immensely. This was the way to talk. ‘Well you listen to me. You’re not to have anything more to do with them. I forbid it. And you must take all that Jewish trash right back where it belongs.’

  She stood in front of him, pale with the horror of what he was saying, her mind full of remembered words and images, old Mr Levy saying, ‘Pretty Kitty Jackson, as I live an’ breathe,’; Mr Segal holding out Rosie’s wedding suit so gently and offering to throw in the shoes to match; Manny Feigenbaum losing his son in that awful war and taking Jim on; all of them good, kind, gentle, loving men. How dare he say they should be put down! It was obscene. ‘Now look here,’ she said, her cheeks flushed, ‘they’re some a’ the cleanest men I ever come across an’ the kindest an’ the nicest. You stand there callin’ ’em names, an’ saying they ought ter be killed, an’ you don’t know nothin’ about ’em.’ She knew she was fighting him and that it was dangerous, but now she’d begun she couldn’t stop.

  His face was distorted with anger. He stood up and walked round the table until they were standing toe to toe. ‘Don’t you dare speak to me like that,’ he said and punched her in the face.

  It was such a powerful blow, it knocked her off her feet and while she was lying on the carpet, he kicked her with those awful jackboots. The pain of it was so sharp and terrible it made her scream. She put up an arm to protect her face and tried to roll away from him.

  ‘Get up!’ he roared at her. ‘Get up! You’re like an animal. Rolling about like that. Get up! Get up!’

  But she could barely move, and simply lay where she was and went on screaming.

  By then he was beginning to feel afraid of what he’d done but that only made him frantically angry. ‘Stop it!’ he yelled. ‘Stop that noise! You’ll have the neighbours in. Have I got to take the cane to you?’

  She was stunned and in so much pain she could barely think, but she made an enormous effort and managed to pick herself up and stumble to the door. She was aware that the side of her face was throbbing and that there was a sharp pain in her chest, and she saw that the boys were sitting on the stairs, looking sweaty, pale and very frightened. We must get out, she thought, now, this minute, we can’t stay here, not now. She staggered into the kitchen to find her handbag and had to lean on the table for a little while to get her breath, noticing, in a vague and almost detached way, that there was blood dripping from her face and falling onto her hands. She picked up the tea towel automatically, to staunch the flow. Then she grabbed hold of Bobby’s hand, told Georgie to follow her, opened the front door as quietly as she could, and they all ran.

  Rosie had had a rather worrying letter from her brother Johnnie that afternoon. She was sitting in the kitchen, reading it through for the second time and waiting for the kettle to boil, when the phone rang. She was still pondering the problem the letter had set her and for a few seconds she couldn’t make out who it was on the end of the line. It was the oddest voice, and it seemed to be bubbling and gulping. ‘Hello?’ she said. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Is Jim… there?’ the voice said. ‘Is… my Jim… there?’

  ‘Kitty?’ Rosie said. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Is my Jim… there?’ Kitty said, struggling to speak clearly. ‘I got ter… Thing is… Can’t breathe. Is my Jim…?’

  She’s hurt, Rosie thought. She’s been hurt. Or she’s ill. ‘He’s just coming upstairs now,’ she said. ‘I can hear him. Hang on. I’ll get him.’ And did.

  He took the phone from her calmly. ‘Hello, our kid,’ he said. But then his expression changed. ‘Where are you?’ he said. ‘Speak slow. It’s a bit hard to hear yer.’

  Kitty was gasping but she managed to tell him. ‘In the… phone box. End… a’ the road. Common end.’

  ‘Stay there,’ he said. ‘I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’

  ‘She’s hurt,’ he said to Rosie. ‘Sounds serious. I’m gonna go an’ get her.’

  ‘Shall I come with you?’

  ‘Where are the girls?


  ‘Pictures. I could leave ’em a note.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘You wait here. I’ll be as quick as I can.’ And he was off.

  Rosie’s brain slid into gear. I’ll bet that bloody monster’s hit her, she thought, and if she’s hurt bad, she’ll need a doctor and it’s Saturday. They don’t all shut down of a weekend though. There must be one open. Or a hospital somewhere. I’ll go down and see if Mrs Rogers knows. She turned the kettle off and headed for the stairs.

  And the phone rang again. What’s happened now? she thought, and she ran back, feeling alarmed and moving so quickly she was breathless when she picked up the receiver. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘what is it?’

  ‘Delectable creature,’ Gerry’s voice said. ‘I’ve got a favour to ask.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘It’s you. I’m sorry I can’t talk, something’s come up. Can I ring you back?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s not anything serious…’ but she had already hung up and was halfway down the stairs.

  Mrs Rogers was shocked to hear that their nice Kitty had been hurt, but she knew exactly where to find a doctor and got the address at once. ‘She’s a lady doctor,’ she said, ‘and ever so kind. I been to see her twice. Newington Causeway by the Borough Tube station. Big brass plaque on the door. You can’t miss it. Poor Kitty. What a business. An’ here’s your girls come home. Well that’s one good thing. Evening Gracie. Evening Mary.’

  ‘Why is it a good thing we’ve come home?’ Gracie asked as she followed her mother upstairs. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Let’s get in the flat,’ Rosie said, ‘an’ I’ll tell you.’

  Jim’s second tram seemed to take an eternity to get to Tooting, and by the time he was there, he was so anxious, he ignored his gammy leg and ran to the phone box. Kitty was sitting on the kerb with her twins on either side of her and she looked so awful it gave him a shock, even though he’d tried to prepare himself for what he would find. Her face was puffy and swollen, her nose clogged with congealed blood and she had the beginnings of a black eye. Even worse she was leaning over sideways and plainly finding it difficult to breathe.

  ‘Oh my good God,’ he said. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘’E lost… ’is rag,’ Kitty panted.

  ‘I should think he bloody did,’ Jim said.

  ‘He was… worked up,’ Kitty tried to explain. ‘He’s… joined the Fascist party… you see… an’ they gets ’im… in a lather.’

  ‘I don’t care what they gets him in,’ Jim said furiously. ‘He’s got no right to use you as a punchbag. Come on. I’m taking you home. Grab hold a’ me hand.’

  Kitty found the walk to the tram stop extremely difficult, but Bobbie carried her handbag and Georgie held her hand and she clung onto Jim’s arm and took it slowly. They were all very glad when the tram arrived, and she’d climbed aboard. And, although she found the motion of the tram very painful and her face was stiff and sore, she didn’t complain or cry and even managed to smile at Jim now and then to reassure him.

  Rosie was waiting for them at the tram stop, calm and in complete command. ‘You boys go back to the flat,’ she said. ‘The girls are waiting for you. Get the table set and rustle up a few more chairs, an’ we’ll have supper when we get back. I got you an appointment at the doctor’s, Kitty. It’s not far. Hold on to our arms. We’ll soon have you there, won’t we Jim?’

  Kitty struggled valiantly, but it was a difficult walk, especially after the buffeting she’d taken on the tram. But the doctor, who was small, elderly and thorough, was every bit as kind as Mrs Rogers had promised. She examined her patient very gently and told her that she had a cracked rib that was going to be very painful for quite a few days, but she would bind it up and it would heal in its own time and that, as well as that, her nose was broken. ‘It isn’t blocking your air passages,’ she said. ‘When the swelling subsides, you’ll be able to breathe a great deal more easily than you can now.’ Then she asked, ‘How did it happen?’ And Kitty told her, haltingly and painfully.

  ‘I will write you a full report of what I have found in this examination,’ the doctor said, after she’d bound Kitty’s chest. ‘You might need to take this further.’ And when Kitty looked confused, she added, ‘That is entirely up to you of course. But if you do decide to take action, you will need medical evidence of your injuries. My advice for the moment, is for you to take things easy for a week or two, until your bruises have cleared, and if you don’t feel quite a lot better by then, which you ought to do, come back and see me again.’

  ‘She’s going to stay with me an’ her brother,’ Rosie said. ‘He’s waiting for us in your waiting room. We’ll look after her.’

  The doctor smiled and said that was a very good idea and Rosie paid the fee and thanked her and then she and Jim held Kitty up as she staggered back to the flat. She was totally exhausted by the time she got there and sank into Jim’s armchair as if she never wanted to get up again. The girls and the twins had laid the table ready for supper and gathered chairs from the bedrooms so that there were enough for all seven of them.

  ‘Now then,’ Rosie said when they were all comfortably seated. ‘First things first and then we’ll have some supper. You three are not going back to Tooting tonight, or ever if you don’t want to. But certainly not tonight. I can make you up a bed on the sofa, Kitty, and the boys can sleep in Mary’s bed and the girls’ll double up in Gracie’s. We’ve sorted it all out, haven’t we girls?’

  ‘Really an’ truly?’ Bobby asked. ‘Don’t we have to go home then?’

  ‘No,’ Rosie told him. ‘You can stay here with us, until your mummy’s decided what to do. You don’t have to go anywhere.’

  ‘What about school?’ Georgie asked, nervously. ‘Daddy’s ever so particular about us going to school. He gives us the cane something awful if we don’t go to school.’

  Rosie was shocked to hear it, but she didn’t comment. There’d be time for that later. ‘Daddy won’t know what you’re doing if you’re here with us,’ she said. ‘He can be particular all he likes.’

  But Kitty was looking anxious and finding it extremely hard to breathe. ‘’E’ll come… after us… our Rosie,’ she panted. ‘’E might be… on ’is way… this minute.’

  ‘Shop’ll be shut in ten minutes,’ Jim said, looking at the clock. ‘So if ’e’s comin’ ’e’ll ’ave ter look sharp or ’e’ll ’ave a wasted journey. I’ll nip down, an’ warn Mr Rogers not to let him in, if that’ll make you any easier.’

  ‘’E’ll make… a scene,’ Kitty worried. ‘’E’s a… tartar… when ’e makes… a scene.’

  ‘So I’ve noticed,’ Jim said grimly. ‘Don’t you worry yer ’ead, kid. I’ll sort ’im out.’

  ‘We can’t… stay here, Jim. ’E’ll find us… sure as fate.’

  ‘Put the kettle on girls and go and get a tin of condensed milk, an’ a straw for your Aunty,’ Rosie said, ‘an’ we’ll make a pot a’ tea. It’ll have to be condensed milk till the milkman comes tomorrow, but you won’t mind that, will you? Then I’ll tell you what I think you ought to do.’

  The tea was made, the straw found and when they were settled, she told them her plan.

  ‘Now then,’ she said, taking Johnnie’s letter out of the oddments drawer, ‘I’m going to read you a letter I had from my Johnnie this afternoon. I was reading it when you phoned me Kitty. Right?’ And she read.

  ‘Dear Rosie, I got a bit of news what I thought you might like for to here. Me and Connie Taylor is walking out. We hopes for to get wed in the autumn when the harvest is in, tho it might take longer. Onny the thing is Pa ent too well. He is a bit frail like and it is a bit of a worry to us. The truth is he needs more looking after now being frail and he needs more than just me to look after him so Connie will help out once the autumn comes. I am hoping Tess will help out till then to tide us over.’

  Then she looked up at Kitty and grinned. ‘How would it be if I was to take you and the boys down to Binderton fir
st thing tomorrow morning, an’ tell ’em you’d come to help ’em. What d’you think? You’d be right out a’ harm’s way and Johnnie’d have someone to look after Pa while he’s at work. I think it ’ud suit all of us, all round.’

  It took Kitty a few seconds to digest the idea, while the others watched her and waited, the twins in awe, Gracie and Mary swelling with pride because their mum was so wonderfully in command, Jim remembering that night in St James’ Park, when she’d been so determined to send him to Binderton to save him from the call up, and they’d had their first row. She was wrong then, he thought, admiring her, but she’s bang to rights now.

  Eventually Kitty swallowed and spoke. ‘Yes…’ she said. ‘Tha’s a… good idea. Providin’… they don’t mind.’

  ‘Mind?’ Rosie said. ‘They’ll be glad to see you, you daft happorth. You’re just the sort a’ person they need. That’s settled then. Now let’s have supper.’

  They had fish and chips, naturally, except for Kitty who could barely manage to open her mouth by then but sucked up some tomato soup through a straw and was applauded for it. Then they tried to settle for the night and Kitty pulled at Rosie’s sleeve and whispered to her that she’d have to put a wad of towels in the boys’ bed. ‘They…has… little accidents… sometimes.’

  Rosie understood at once. ‘You mean they wet the bed? Is that it?’ she said cheerfully. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll pad it all up for ’em. An’ I’ll bet Pa’s still got a rubber sheet you could use when you’re down there. He had to have one for Ma when she was so ill. Leave it to me. We’ll get you settled first, ’cause you need a good night’s sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.’

 

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