The Pride of Polly Perkins

by Joan Jonker

  Polly jumped up and went after her mother to give her a hand, and Justin took her place on the floor next to Steve. ‘You’re Polly’s boyfriend, aren’t you?’

  Squaring his shoulders, a smile lighting up his handsome face, Steve nodded. ‘Yes, she’s my girl.’

  ‘She’s always talking about you, said you are more handsome than any of the film stars.’

  ‘Take no notice of her, she’s only acting daft.’ But Steve was secretly pleased. And he found himself warming to the other boy. ‘It’s her that should be a film star, she’s better-lookin’ than any of them.’

  ‘Yes, she’s very beautiful. And she’s so warm and friendly, always cheerful and smiling.’ Justin scrambled to his feet to follow his parents. ‘You’re a very lucky boy, Steve.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Steve made no attempt to stir as Justin moved away. He was content to sit and go over what the lad had told him. Polly talked about him all the time, he’d said. And she thought he was handsome.

  ‘Ay, Steve,’ Dolly called from the doorway. ‘Sarah Jane wants yer to carry her plate for her.’

  ‘Okay, Mam, I’m coming.’ Steve walked tall. Justin was right – he was indeed lucky to have a girlfriend like Polly.

  It was eleven o’clock when the party broke up. They’d insisted on ending a perfect night by forming a circle around Polly and singing For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow. She was radiant with happiness, a very pretty girl with a smile that touched everyone’s heart.

  Charles, Victoria and Justin were the first to leave; they were walking the short distance home. But before they left they shook hands with each of the other guests and Charles gave a little speech. ‘To John, Ada and Polly, and to the ladies who worked so hard to make this one of the best parties my wife and I have ever been to, I say a very big thank you. It’s been a tremendous evening and I propose we do it again in the near future.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Sarah Jane said. ‘Yer a man after me own heart.’

  Charles walked towards her and, putting his arms around her, he held her tight. ‘I’ve been wanting to do this all night, Sarah Jane. You’re the prettiest woman in the room and you’ve stolen my heart.’

  ‘And mine!’ Justin finally plucked up the courage. If his father could do it, so could he. He hugged the old lady and planted a kiss on the lined face. ‘I think you’re lovely.’

  Sarah Jane wasn’t used to compliments and the only way to stop the tears was by joking. ‘Right, I’ll hold yer to that. We’ll be married at Brougham Terrace on the last Saturday in June. Yer won’t mind if I don’t wear white, will yer? Yer see, with my complexion, I look a bugger in white.’

  Polly put a hand on Victoria’s arm. ‘Are yer sure you don’t mind me staying behind to give me mam a hand?’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind, my dear. Go home with your mother and have tomorrow morning off. And I thank you for inviting me to your party, I really have had a marvellous time. And Polly, you are very lucky to have all these people as friends.’

  ‘Oh, I know I am, Mrs Denholme, I love them all. And you’re my friend, too, and Mr Charles and Justin. In fact, you’re me second family.’

  Victoria was quite overcome. ‘That is very sweet of you, my dear.’

  Charles came up and gave Polly a kiss. ‘We’ll be on our way now, my dear, but we’ll have plenty to talk about when we see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Goodnight, Polly, and thanks.’ Justin hesitated, then gave her a quick hug. ‘It’s been brilliant.’

  ‘Thanks, Justin. I’ll see yer tomorrow.’

  John had ordered two taxis, one for the Mitchells and the other to take Sarah Jane and Mary home. Steve wasn’t very pleased at having to leave with his parents, but cheered up when Polly said she’d be down one night soon.

  After they’d waved the taxis off, Ada and John climbed back up the stairs. ‘I don’t know whether I’ve got feet on me or not,’ Ada groaned. ‘It’s been a long day.’

  ‘But a very satisfying one, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s been great! But I was very worried at first, thought it was going to be a flop. Isn’t it amazing what a few bottles of stout will do?’

  John put an arm around her waist as they reached the second flight of stairs. ‘It’s so good to hold you. It’s taken all my willpower to keep away from you this evening.’

  Ada pulled free. ‘Polly’s up there!’

  ‘I know, my darling, I know.’

  Tired as she was, Ada was reduced to tears of laughter when they entered the dining room. Aggie was standing with her hands on her hips surveying the table which was littered with dirty cups and saucers, half-empty plates, squashed cakes, half-eaten sandwiches, crumpled serviettes and crumbs everywhere.

  ‘Ay, Fanny, come and see the bleedin’ mess in here! We’ll be at it until next Pancake ruddy Tuesday! Just come and take a gander.’

  ‘Sod off, Aggie,’ Fanny’s voice came back from the kitchen. ‘I’ve got me own bleedin’ mess in here.’

  Polly went to stand between her mother and John. Linking arms with them, she said, ‘It was worth it, though, wasn’t it? I’m a very lucky girl.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The heavy brocade curtain fell back into place when Mrs Nightingale removed her hand to stifle a yawn. It had been a long day and she was dead beat. Muttering under her breath, she parted the curtain and resumed her watch for the family returning. ‘I should have gone to bed like the mistress said, but I never expected them to be this late. With Polly only being fourteen I thought the party would have been over early.’ The cook-cum-housekeeper wouldn’t admit to herself that it was curiosity that had sustained her until this late hour. Polly had mentioned that her friends the Mary Ellens had been invited, and Mr Roscoe’s cleaners, and for the life of her she couldn’t see the party being a success. Mixing people from such different backgrounds was a recipe for disaster. Doomed to failure from the very start.

  ‘At last!’ She spied them passing under the streetlamp and, hastily straightening her lace-trimmed mobcap and apron, she scurried to open the door.

  Victoria looked surprised to see her. ‘Mrs Nightingale, you shouldn’t have waited up for us.’

  ‘I thought you might want a drink.’ She waited until the three were in the wide hall then closed the door. ‘I’ll make a tray and take it to your room, shall I, Miss Victoria?’

  It was Charles who answered. ‘Oh no, we’re not going to bed yet, Mrs N., we’ve got too much to talk about. We’ll take tea in the drawing room if you’d be so kind, then you must poppy off to bed.’

  They’re looking very pleased with themselves, the housekeeper noted as she stifled another yawn. The party couldn’t have been a complete wash-out. ‘Did you have an enjoyable evening, Mr Charles?’

  ‘Splendid, absolutely splendid! A most entertaining and thoroughly enjoyable evening.’ Charles’s eyes were full of merriment as he smiled at her. ‘I couldn’t describe what fun it was, what born comedians Polly’s friends are. But if there is a repeat, Doris, which is very much on the cards, I’ll make sure your name is on the guest list.’

  Mrs Nightingale preened at the use of her Christian name. At one time Mr Charles had always called her Doris, until the mistress stepped in and said she should be given her full title out of respect. After all, if the family didn’t show respect for her rank as housekeeper, neither would the junior members of staff. ‘Oh, thank you, Mr Charles, I’d like that!’

  Victoria made for the drawing room. ‘Nothing to eat, Mrs N – just a pot of tea. Mr Roscoe laid on a very good table and I rather think I ate too much.’

  Justin followed his mother into the room. ‘It was fun, wasn’t it, Mother? The parties we give are dull in comparison.’

  ‘I have to agree with you.’ She began to giggle. ‘Can you imagine Mrs Cecilia Compton-Browne holding a conversation with Sarah Jane?’

  Charles came into the room, laughing. ‘That is something I would like to see, my darling. And I would be willing to bet Sarah J
ane would come off best.’

  ‘I wouldn’t take your bet, my love,’ Victoria walked to the huge mirror over the mantelpiece and, smiling at her reflection, patted a kiss-curl into place. ‘Sarah Jane is a remarkable woman, I have to agree, but—’ She broke off and spun round, the smile gone from her face. ‘Where’s my figurine?’

  ‘Where’s what, my darling?’

  ‘My figurine.’ Victoria pointed to where the ornament usually took pride of place. ‘It’s missing.’

  ‘Calm down, darling, it can’t have disappeared. It was there when we went out, so there’s probably a very reasonable explanation. Perhaps it’s been taken to the kitchen for cleaning. Mrs Nightingale will be here in a minute and she’ll put your mind at rest.’

  Justin’s heart began to race. Now he knew why he’d turned around at the door when he came back for his father’s cigar case. He’d felt there was something different about the room, but everything seemed to be in order and he’d dismissed the idea. So the figurine was there when he’d left the house with his parents … but missing five minutes later. And the only person he’d seen was his sister.

  Without a word Justin fled from the room and took the stairs two at a time. In his mind he could see what he hadn’t registered at the time – the guilt on Rebecca’s face and the furtive way she was holding her hand behind her back. But why would she remove the figurine?

  Without bothering to knock, Justin burst into his sister’s bedroom. Rebecca was sitting up in bed reading. Normally she would be fast asleep at this time, so the mystery deepened. ‘Well, what have you done with Mother’s ornament?’ he challenged.

  Rebecca closed her book. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about the statue – the girl in the ballgown. It’s missing from the drawing room and you are the only one who could have taken it.’

  ‘Don’t talk rubbish! If there’s anything missing, the only person in this house who would steal it is your friend, Polly Perkins. I bet if you search her room you’ll find it.’

  Justin breathed in sharply through his clenched teeth. ‘So that’s it. Well, your little plan has backfired, dear sister, because Polly hasn’t come home with us, she’s spending the night at her mother’s.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You were hoping we’d get in and go straight to bed, weren’t you? Then it would look as though Polly had sneaked down during the night and stolen the statue. But you’ve slipped up on two counts. One, we didn’t go straight to our rooms, and two, Polly isn’t even here!’

  Rebecca lowered her eyes but her voice was still defiant. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please leave my room and allow me to go to sleep.’

  ‘That is precisely what I should do – go down and tell our parents that they’ll find the figurine in Polly’s room, where you put it. But I’m loath to be the one to tell them that their daughter is a liar and a thief. I am ashamed to think my sister would sink so low, but how much more hurt and ashamed will they be?’

  Her head bent, Rebecca made no reply.

  ‘I’ll never forgive you for what you tried to do to Polly, but to save my parents from heartache, I suggest you run and get the figurine back now. You can tell Mother you’d brought it up to make a sketch of it. Any excuse will do, but you’ll have to hurry before Father sends for the police.’

  There was fear now in the eyes Rebecca raised to meet his. ‘They wouldn’t really send for the police, would they?’

  ‘They certainly will, if they haven’t done so already. Apart from being a very expensive ornament, it is Mother’s favourite and she’ll be completely distraught.’ There was anger now in Justin’s voice. ‘But you know that, don’t you? That’s why you chose that particular item in your devious plot to make Polly out to be a common thief.’ He took a deep breath to calm his anger. ‘You’ve got one minute to retrieve the ornament and return it. I will tell them I woke you from a deep sleep to ask if you could throw any light on the mystery, and you’ll explain when you bring it down.’

  Rebecca pushed the bedclothes back and slid her legs out of the bed. ‘Justin, please may I—’

  Her brother cut her short. ‘I don’t want to talk to you now, I am so disappointed in you. I’ll come along when everyone is in bed and tell you how you are going to make up to Polly for what you tried to do to her.’ With that he left the room and made his way downstairs.

  Victoria was in tears, Charles was pacing the floor and Mrs Nightingale was wringing her hands. ‘I never touched it, Mr Charles, I swear!’

  ‘I don’t for one moment think you did, Doris. I only asked if you could shed any light on its disappearance.’

  Justin forced a smile to his face. ‘Panic over, everyone, Rebecca has the figurine.’

  There was complete silence for several seconds as the news sank in. ‘But why has she taken it upstairs?’ Victoria asked. ‘It’s not a toy, not a plaything.’

  ‘Rebecca will tell you when she comes down.’ Justin kept his smile fixed and his voice light, but inside he felt like crying. Did his sister hate Polly so much she would ruin her life … brand her a thief ? Or was Rebecca so naive she didn’t realise what the consequences of her action could have been?

  Charles was comforting his wife. ‘There now, my darling, all is well. It was very stupid of Rebecca to have caused this upset, and I shall not hesitate to tell her so.’ He looked over his wife’s shoulder. ‘I’m truly sorry you’ve been upset, Doris, and my daughter will be made to apologise to you tomorrow.’

  The housekeeper would have liked to have told him what she thought about his daughter, but she merely inclined her head and left the room. Least said, soonest mended. Anyway, Mr Charles had called her by her Christian name again, and that compensated in some measure for all the upset.

  Justin waited until the house had been silent for a while before slipping on his dressing-gown and creeping along the landing to his sister’s room. He didn’t knock for fear of waking his parents, and when he pushed the door open he could hear muffled sobbing. It didn’t strike a chord of sympathy, he was still too angry with her for that. And with the anger was a feeling of horror when he thought of what would have happened to Polly if his sister’s plot had been successful.

  ‘Rebecca!’ Justin shone the torch he’d brought with him at her. ‘Sit up and stop making that noise or you’ll waken the whole house.’

  Rebecca’s tear-stained face emerged from under the sheet. ‘Don’t shout at me, Justin, please.’

  ‘Shout at you? I could willingly wring your neck!’ He tore his gaze away before his resolve melted. ‘Have you any idea of the seriousness of the crime you were committing? How you could even contemplate doing that to Polly I will never understand or forgive.’

  There was a loud gulp before Rebecca answered. ‘I wanted to get rid of her. I don’t like her living in this house.’

  ‘But why? Why do you hate her so much?’

  ‘Because everybody makes such a fuss of her. Mother and Father treat her more like a daughter than they do me.’ Sniffing up, Rebecca went on, ‘They never hug me like they do her, and I can never make them laugh like she does.’

  Her brother sighed. ‘Rebecca, when did you last give Mother a hug, or Father a kiss? When did you last have a smile on your face instead of a scowl? You and I don’t show our feelings like Polly does. She has an affectionate disposition and people are drawn to her. If you want people to like you, you have to put yourself out to earn their liking and respect. You and I would have to work on it, but with Polly it comes naturally.’

  ‘We were all right until she came,’ Rebecca said. ‘We were, weren’t we, Justin?’

  ‘No, we were not all right! We thought we were, but Polly has shown me a different life.’ Justin was weakening. He realised now that his sister had acted out of jealousy, and she had to learn that doing what she did was not the way to banish that jealousy. He didn’t want to think she was wicked, he preferred to believe she was immature for her age, didn’t understand that s
ome of the things she had done in her life were very wrong. So when he spoke it was with great patience. ‘Think back, Rebecca, to before Polly came. We never heard laughter ringing out from the kitchen as we do now. Lessons were dull, whereas now they are fun. We didn’t even know Mr Westly had a sense of humour, he always seemed so serious. These days he is much more relaxed because he enjoys working in a happy atmosphere.’

  Rebecca was still prepared to argue. ‘Mr Westly is supposed to teach us, not make us laugh.’

  Justin was sitting on the side of the bed; now he turned and took her hand in his. ‘Rebecca, why are you so jealous of Polly? She has so very little, while you have so much.’

  ‘She’s prettier than me.’ The words came out before she could stop them. ‘Everyone is always saying how pretty she is.’

  ‘Polly is a very pretty girl – so why shouldn’t people remark on it? You would be just as pretty if you didn’t have a permanent frown on your face. You are your own worst enemy, Rebecca, if you did but know it.’

  Rebecca was listening intently now. ‘Am I really pretty, Justin?’

  ‘You have the features to be attractive, but not the disposition. And only you can change that. You could try taking a few tips off Polly, you’ll never have a better example.’ He rose from the bed and looked down on her. ‘What you did tonight was wicked and inexcusable. I find it hard to believe that a sister of mine would do such a thing, and I’m afraid you’re going to have to change if you want to win back my love and respect.’

  ‘I do love you, Justin.’

  ‘Words are cheap, I prefer to see action. In future you will treat Polly as she deserves to be treated, with respect. That is your payment for my silence. So the ball is in your court, Rebecca, it’s up to you how you play the game. Now I’ll say good night.’

  Aggie sat on her rocking chair in front of the fire. It was only nine o’clock but all her work was done and the long day stretched ahead of her. ‘What a bleedin’ life!’ she said to the flames roaring up the chimney. ‘I put meself out to pasture too soon, I should have stayed on for a while. Mind you, it was those bleedin’ stairs what did it; it was murder climbing them a few times a day.’