by Carol Rivers
‘Lucky you,’ Kay said enviously.
‘He said he’s missing us.’
‘That’s nice.’ Kay smiled. She knew her friend loved her husband, but Paul wasn’t often out of her mind either.
‘Did you tell Paul?’ Kay asked.
Babs shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
‘Babs, this is all very risky. What if Eddie were to turn up out of the blue?’
‘Why would he? I’d get a letter to say he was coming home on leave first.’
Kay sipped her drink. ‘I haven’t had a letter from Alan in nearly a year.’
‘Now I feel even guiltier.’ Babs blinked her blue eyes and pushed back her fair hair. ‘There’s you dying for news from Alan and me not knowing what to write back to Eddie.’
‘I’m beginning to struggle with writing letters myself,’ Kay was forced to admit. ‘It’s always a one-sided conversation.’
‘Have you ever mentioned Dolly?’
‘No. I wouldn’t know what to say about her.’
‘No, course not.’
‘I feel confused, Babs. After what Dolly said about Spain and Alan’s own words in the letter he wrote before he went away, I ask meself, why would he write what he did? And then there’s the hundred pounds he put in the Post Office, the same amount that was stolen from Dolly.’
Babs leaned close and in a soft voice whispered, ‘Kay, you told me before that you trust Alan. You still do, don’t you?’
‘He asked me that once, too.’
‘Well, do you?’
Kay wanted to say she did. But lately she’d had many troubled thoughts. Thoughts that she tried not to think and yet they just bubbled to the surface. ‘Some days I do,’ she admitted. ‘Other days I have my doubts. Like when I think back to the Suttons’ funeral. Alan told me he was going back to the post. Instead he met someone else at the Pig and Whistle.’
‘Yes, a relative of the Suttons’.’
‘But was he?’ Kay questioned. ‘Could he, too, have been a part of Alan’s past? The past that Dolly says she shared with him.’
‘We all know what a good story-teller she was.’
‘Yes, but Alan wrote about forgiveness and a second chance. Was Dolly once his wife, a mistake he realized he’d made and left her for reasons that are different to what Dolly said? Is Sean Alan’s son, I ask myself? Alfie and Sean looked alike. You once said yourself, they could be taken for brothers.’
‘Lots of kids look the same round here. All dirty faces and scruffy clothes.’ Babs laughed.
‘I wonder if Alan was trying to convince himself that Dolly and Sean didn’t count? After all, Dolly said that her Alan hadn’t even seen his son. It wasn’t as if he held a baby in his arms, knowing he was a father. Or could Dolly be lying and Sean be another man’s child?’
‘Yes, that’s possible I suppose,’ Babs said with a nod.
‘What did you think when you found out Eddie had had an affair?’
Babs was silent, until she gave a soft sigh. ‘I couldn’t believe he’d done it. I thought there was some mistake. My Eddie would never do such a thing! Then, as I struggled with the jealousy about another woman, I began to reason it out. I’d been in my own world after Gill’s birth and it was a very lonely one. Eddie must have felt just as lonely.’ Babs lowered her head. ‘As for forgiveness? Well, you can forgive but you can’t forget. Alan’s never strayed whilst he’s been married to you. He hasn’t betrayed you, even if he was once married to Dolly before he met you. That was his past. There’s a big difference in that, Kay.’
‘Yes, but why didn’t he tell me? Did he think he could always keep such an unhappy secret?’
‘Perhaps he had good reason. And you have to accept you will only find it out when you see Alan again.’
Kay sat there, watching Babs hurriedly mop up a few spots of lemonade that had spilled on her dress. She wanted to answer Babs with the words, ‘If I ever see Alan again.’
But those words wouldn’t come. Instead she thought of Alan’s letter.
After all that has happened, I can’t expect you to understand or forgive. But you must trust that our marriage is real and perfect. I could not have wished for a better second chance. It was you and Alfie that gave me an honest life. Before that, there was nothing! Nothing that ever needed to be told. But I suspect, if you are reading this, some of it already has.
Kay was left wondering what all this could mean.
Kay sat up in bed, her eyes wide open. An answer had come to her in her sleep! How could that be? As she blinked her eyes and stared at the front-room windows covered in blackout and Alan’s wooden frames, her mind searched frantically for the contents of the dream. She was back at the Salmon and Ball pub again. This time Dolly wasn’t sitting with her. She was joking and laughing with the landlord.
Kay’s heart raced. Her mouth was dry as she tried to remember the clue. Even in her sleep she had known it was vital to remember. She strained to recall but the dream was illusive, sending a wave of panic through her. It was passing, drifting . . .
Then at that moment the pieces slipped into place. The pub’s customers enjoying their drinks, the buzz of conversation, the haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. The landlord, his shirtsleeves rolled up as he leaned on the bar talking to Dolly. Kay felt like an invisible listener. She couldn’t hear their words. But it didn’t matter.
If anyone could shed light on Dolly, it was the landlord of the Salmon and Ball pub.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It was another hot July day and Kay’s light summer dress was sticking to her skin. She had coiled her coppery hair up into a roll around her head, but damp wisps trailed around her ears and refused to stay in place. Before she’d left home, she’d made certain that Alfie was dressed in his cotton shirt and summer shorts. All Vi had to do was sit at the front door and doze as they played games in the street.
‘You’re certain you want to go back to Bethnal Green after all that happened?’ asked Babs as they sat on the bus taking them to Green Road.
‘Yes, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.’
Babs sighed, shrugging her shoulders. ‘I hope this don’t upset you all over again.’
Kay knew the Tube would be a reminder of the close call she’d had with death. The cries of those unfortunate people on the stairs had never left her. The sight of Dolly going under the crowd. But, over the months, she had kept the bad memories at bay. Now she must face them.
‘I wish you’d let Paul bring us in the car.’
‘No. I want to do this alone.’
Babs looked at Kay again. ‘You do have me.’
Kay touched her friend’s arm. ‘I know that.’
When they got off the bus, a rush of heat poured over them. Mixed with this was the smell of the traffic and market stalls trading down the road.
Kay slipped her hand through Babs’s arm. Babs looked at her and said again, ‘It’s not too late to get back on the bus.’
Kay smiled. ‘Like you said, I’ve got you with me.’
They walked along the dusty, dry pavements. Even though it was a beautiful summer’s day and people were strolling lazily along, Kay felt cold inside. It was as if she was entering the world she had left on the night of 3 March. When they reached the Salmon and Ball pub, Kay had to stop and take a deep breath. The doors were open and an old man was sweeping out the dirt into small piles.
‘We ain’t open yet,’ he told them gruffly.
‘Is the landlord here?’ Kay and Babs peered inside.
‘Who’s asking?’ The old man leaned on his broom, puffing and sweating.
‘We are,’ said Babs, sticking out her chin. ‘Is he here or not?’
‘No, but I’ll get the barman.’ He went inside and closed the door behind him.
‘Do you think we should come back later?’ asked Babs doubtfully.
But as she spoke the door opened and a younger man stood there. He had greasy dark hair and bushy eyebrows that grew low over his small, rather aggressive
eyes. Kay recognized him at once. ‘I thought you were the landlord,’ she said.
‘No, he ain’t around. What do you want?’
‘To speak to you for a minute,’ Kay said quickly. ‘I was here with a friend on the night of the accident at the Tube.’
His expression changed. ‘I don’t know nothing about that,’ he rasped, and started to close the door.
Kay pushed it open again. ‘You must do,’ she insisted. ‘Dolly and me were sitting together in your pub when the siren went. We both went to the Tube to take cover.’
‘What Dolly do you mean?’
‘Dolly Lewis. I watched you talking together. I know you know her, so don’t say you don’t.’
The man gave a grunt, wiped his big, hairy hands on his dirty apron and slowly opened the door. ‘You’d better come in.’
Kay and Babs walked into the stale-smelling bar where the wooden chairs were turned upside down on the tables.
‘You better be on the level,’ the barman threatened. ‘I’m not answering no trick questions.’
‘Who’s asked you trick questions?’ said Babs, as they stood by the counter.
‘You’d be surprised.’
‘To do with what happened that night?’ pressed Kay.
‘It didn’t happen, according to some.’
‘Well, it did,’ Kay told him firmly. ‘I was here to see Dolly and we both left when the siren went. The crowd panicked when they heard something very loud, like bombs being dropped. Everyone surged forward down the slippery steps of the Tube.’
‘I don’t know about that. I went down in the cellar.’
‘Well, you were lucky,’ Kay said shortly. ‘Dolly was in front of me and the crowd kept going forward. The last I saw of her was in the Tube stairwell.’
‘Poor cow.’
‘I’ve tried to find out about her, but there’s no real news anywhere.’
The barman knitted his bushy eyebrows together. ‘You’re not wrong there, lady. But I tell you, there’s some who’s been snooping round here and asking questions.’
‘The police, you mean?’ Babs suggested.
‘I dunno, do I? All I know is that I stayed here that night, took shelter down in the cellar. But there weren’t no need. No bombs was dropped. And when I came up and went outside there was all those poor sods lying on stretchers as far as the eye could see.’
‘You saw them too?’
‘I’ll never forget ’em.’
‘So what was those noises then, the ones everyone thought was bombs?’ Babs demanded.
‘If you find the answer to that, love, I reckon you’ve found what caused the rush down the Tube.’
Kay’s knees went weak. She gripped the bar. ‘At least I’ve found someone who remembers the same as me.’
‘Yeah, but when I started to tell these two blokes who came round, they said if I knew what was good for me, I wouldn’t spread no rumours.’
‘But it’s not rumour, it’s the truth.’
‘You and me know that, love.’
‘My name is Kay and this is my friend, Babs,’ Kay told the barman. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Dave,’ he said gruffly.
‘And you know – or knew – Dolly?’
‘What’s it to you?’
Kay looked at Babs first, then said, ‘Me and my friend are looking for her son, Sean. He stayed with us for a while, when Dolly first came to the Isle of Dogs. But Dolly took him away again. And if Dolly, well, if Dolly died that night, it means he’ll be an orphan.’
‘So that’s the only reason you want her – for the kid?’ Dave frowned suspiciously.
‘What other reason could there be?’
He laughed. ‘Plenty. Dol rubbed lots of people up the wrong way. Owed money right, left and centre. She was always skint, nicking from her punters even. The landlord told her to take her business elsewhere, but she still called in to see if there was any business about. So you can see, I don’t want no trouble. I could lose me job.’
‘We don’t want trouble either,’ said Babs. ‘We just want to find Sean.’
‘I felt sorry for the kid too, the way she dragged him from pillar to post.’
‘You saw him?’ Kay gasped.
‘Once or twice she made him sit outside the pub as she sorted her punters. He had to stay there an’ all while she found some place to do the business.’
Kay closed her eyes. Poor Sean!
‘How long have you known Dolly?’ asked Babs.
‘Round about last Christmas. She fetched up here looking for trade,’ he replied. ‘But the kid only appeared on the scene a few months ago.’
‘That must have been after she took him from school,’ said Kay. Was she close to discovering something now? ‘She said she had a friend that Sean was staying with. Do you know where this friend could be?’
Dave shrugged. ‘Must be someone in the trade.’
Kate shuddered. ‘Did she ever say anything about where she lived? Please try to remember.’
‘No, Dolly was canny like that. Didn’t let anyone know her business.’
Kay’s heart sank.
‘But I saw her once not far from here,’ the barman remembered. ‘I was on me way up to the Roman Road. I clocked her and the kid for a few minutes, then she disappeared down what’s left of Stock’s Lane.’
‘What do you mean, what’s left of it?’ Kay asked.
‘In forty-one, Jerry’s planes knocked it out. It was a rotten slum anyway.’
‘Does anyone live there now?’ asked Babs.
‘Might be one or two, I suppose.’
Kay looked at Babs. Their eyes met in hope. At least this was somewhere to go.
‘If you’re aiming to go there,’ Dave warned them, ‘Take a bit of heavy. Stock’s Lane ain’t no place for decent sorts like yerselves.’
Kay understood the warning. But she had no intention of stopping now. She had come too far to turn back.
Vi felt someone shake her. She was always slow to rouse from a nap lately, but this time, she had been woken from a deep slumber. She looked up and into the bright sunshine, the triangular newspaper hat she had made that morning falling down over her forehead.
‘Hello, Vi.’
She screwed up her eyes, not recognizing the voice. The sun was still too bright to see properly. ‘Hang on a minute, I’ll get to me feet.’ She stretched out a hand, but suddenly felt light-headed. A hand caught her arm and steadied her.
‘Watch out there, love. Reckon you’ve had too much sun.’
Vi gazed at the familiar face. ‘Why, if it isn’t Kay’s dad!’
‘That’s me, warts an’ all.’
‘Well, I never did.’ Vi blinked, as she tried to shake off the dizziness that sometimes caught her off-guard. ‘Oh, and it’s you, Lil!’
‘It’s me, love,’ said Lil. ‘Where’s our Kay?’
‘She ain’t home. She’s gone—’ Vi paused. She knew better than to blurt out that Kay was in Bethnal Green and following up on the events of 3 March in the hopes that she might discover Sean’s whereabouts. For as far as Vi knew, Kay hadn’t written to Lil about that night, nor did Lil know anything about Sean or Dolly.
Vi tried to gather herself, but then she saw Alfie playing up by the bombed site of her old house. Tim and Alfie had stripped to the waist and were throwing clumps of dried mud at each other. It was then Vi remembered that Babs had ordered a clean-up of the backyard and the Andersons. It was she, Vi, who had suggested the boys load their cart with the weeds and dirt that had grown over the tunnel roof and take it up the road to dump. The workmen had dug a hole for some reason and left it; a space that Vi had noted and thought could prove useful.
With a quick glance to the end of the street, Vi hoped she would see the familiar figures of Kay and Babs approaching. Unfortunately, the street was empty. ‘What time is it?’ asked Vi, completely forgetting Lil’s question.
‘Half one,’ said Bob.
‘Oh,’ replied Vi vacantly. How long wo
uld it take Kay to get back on the bus from Bethnal Green?
‘Where’s she gone?’ asked Lil, frowning. Her silver hair was styled smartly around her head and she was wearing a brown two-piece outfit. Bob wore his usual titfer and a big smile on his face. Vi wondered anxiously if, like last time, they’d come to stay.
‘Is she out shopping?’ asked Bob.
‘No – well, yes,’ Vi corrected herself. ‘She’s with Babs.’
‘When did they go out?’ asked Lil.
‘Not long ago.’
‘Well, we’ll just have to wait.’ Lil looked through the open door.
Vi suddenly remembered her manners. ‘Come in and I’ll make you a cuppa.’
‘That’d be nice,’ said Bob cheerfully. ‘We’re only down for the day,’ he added, to Vi’s relief. ‘Jumped on the train and then got the bus to Poplar. Thought we’d see how our nipper is.’
‘You mean Alfie?’ said Vi, flummoxed, as she saw Alfie returning a fistful of dirt at Tim.
‘Course we do.’ Lil deepened the frown on her forehead. ‘Vi, are you all right?’
Vi nodded. ‘Just had a bit too much sun.’ She took one last furtive glance at Alfie and the dirt fight and prayed Gill would have the sense to break up the fun and make the boys put on their shirts. Lil would have a fit if she saw her grandson looking like one of those street kids she so deplored.
Chapter Thirty-Five
‘Kay, I don’t like it round here,’ said Babs anxiously as they made their way towards Stock’s Lane. As Dave had informed them, the Luftwaffe had done their job well in this part of the East End. Though the markets and thoroughfares were busy and thriving on the hot summer’s day, there was always a reminder of the bombing.
Kay and Babs stopped to stare down the winding alley in the heart of Bethnal Green. The area had once been the busy heart of London’s rag trade. Kay remembered how her father had told her all about the capital’s clothing sweatshops. But now only a faint reflection of the past remained: toppled walls that had once been the supports of the Huguenots’ silk attics, finally polished off by Jerry’s bombs; capsizing floors of a chapel that no longer contained an altar, just the frame of a glass-stained window and the fragments of tiles that might have once led to an altar. Beyond this the synagogue rose, untouched by the air raids, and there were still a few bagel-sellers, but even these traders, it seemed, were using the alley as a shortcut between the derelict buildings.
