The Legacy (1987)

by Plante, Lynda La

  Eddie started sulking, and had to be dragged along to the tram stop. He wanted to go back to the fair, he didn’t want to go to school. Evelyne slapped him hard, pushed him ahead of her up the tram stairs.

  ‘You’ll go to school, my lad, and what’s more you’ll get that scholarship or you’ll end up on a fairground with no education and no place else to go. Now get up these stairs this instant.’

  Evelyne received a mask-like glare from Edward, and he stomped up the stairs to the top deck. Alex, close behind him, slipped his hand into his brother’s, and they went to the very front seats.

  Evelyne and Freedom sat at the back, looking at the busy traffic below as they headed across London. Evelyne took out the doll for Mrs Harris’ youngest, and checked that she had all their things. She looked up sharply when she heard two small voices singing from the front seats,

  Can you rokka Romany,

  Can you play the bosh,

  Can you jal adrey the staripen

  Can you chin the cosh . . .

  Freedom smiled and nodded to his sons, slipped an arm around her shoulders.

  ‘Well, gel, looks like we gotta pair of gyppos up front.’

  Chapter 27

  Edward Stubbs was awarded a scholarship to a grammar school, the first boy ever from his area. For one son to gain a scholarship was a cause for celebration, but for a second son also to pass gave rise to suspicion and jealousy, and set both boys apart from the children of the neighbourhood.

  In their identical uniforms the boys travelled to school together, always together. Already closer than most brothers, they grew even more so. Eddie and Alex were both tall for their ages, well-built and athletic, excelling at all sports. In the classroom, however, although Alex was bright, he fell short of his brother’s academic brilliance. Edward was the dominant one, and Alex accepted life in his brother’s shadow without jealousy. Edward was his hero.

  Unemployment was as high as ever. Dole queues were long and money short, and for the workers and their families times were hard in the reign of King George.

  Proud of her boys, Evelyne Stubbs worked constantly, and kept her head above water while all around her others sank. Freedom worked at the docks most weeks, and when he was laid off he busied himself making rabbit hutches in the back yard and selling them.

  Occasionally he would disappear for a few days to visit his friends, and those were the times Evelyne dreaded. He would return surly and bad-tempered, and found it difficult to get back into the day-to-day routine.

  Rawnie had died of consumption, and Jesse had lost his fairground through gambling. He was serving a sentence for robbery in Durham gaol.

  Miss Freda and Ed were in financial trouble and had taken in more lodgers. They now had a married couple and two single girls. The girls, it was suspected, were ‘on the game’, but Freda wouldn’t hear of it. To her they were simply youngsters trying to make their way.

  Ed’s brother’s family were even worse off, and although their kids were working they still lived on the breadline, always in debt. They invariably owed money to Evelyne, whose money lending business was growing. Freedom collected the debts for her, and the boys helped him at weekends. The Stubbs family was secure, and the brothers went from strength to strength with their school work.

  Evelyne later tried to pinpoint the turn of events, to recall exactly why things went wrong. She had to try to blame someone, but she knew in her heart that the trouble was within her own home.

  Freedom was the perfect father when the boys were small, attentive and fair, and they obeyed him. But he couldn’t make head or tail of their homework, he was so far removed from them academically that his frustration turned to anger, and they in turn realized that their father – the man they had always looked up to – was illiterate. They were too young to be understanding about it, to help him, and they turned against him and looked increasingly to their mother for guidance. The resulting bitter arguments usually ended with Freedom storming out to the pub.

  Evelyne had cleared the table, tidied away the boys’ books, and was about to start on the weekly wash when there was a hard rapping on the door. A policeman informed Evelyne that Freedom had been arrested for brawling outside the docks. He had knocked out the manager who was pressing charges for assault.

  Ed and Evelyne hurried to the police station and found Freedom sitting gloomily in a cell. The fight had started because Freedom, who always expected to be given work, had been rejected for three days running. He had not told Evelyne, pretending he had been taken on. But on the fourth day he had been offered work, and that was the cause of it. One man who was turned away muttered something in Freedom’s hearing about black bastards getting work before whites, and when the manager had tried to break up the fight Freedom had knocked him senseless.

  At the hearing the magistrate reprimanded Freedom severely – a man with a history of professional boxing should never resort to fighting in the streets. Freedom was given a three-month suspended sentence. Evelyne never said anything, but her reproachful looks and above all her silence tormented him. If he had felt inadequate before, now things were far worse. Evelyne had arranged for a lawyer and paid him, and the more Freedom thought about it the more frustration he felt.

  The appearance of Jesse on their doorstep was the kiss of doom. Recently released from prison, he was as cocksure as ever, with rings on his fingers and gold chains around his neck. He offered Freedom the chance to go into business with him, buying and selling furniture. Evelyne tried to persuade Freedom to have nothing to do with him. They were sitting at the kitchen table where the two boys were doing their homework. Evelyne tried to keep her voice calm, not wanting to get into an argument in front of them. ‘He’s no good, Freedom, he never was. You and I know just how far he will go. Don’t go with him, please, you can do my debt-collecting full-time, we could do it together.’

  Freedom banged his fist on the table and Edward’s inkwell tipped over, spilling its contents on his exercise books. The boys scrabbled to pick them up and mop them, fussing around.

  Freedom couldn’t take it any more and he roared, ‘Will you get out from under ma feet, mun, take yer readin’ out of here, better still, go get work like the other lads around here.’

  Edward stood up to his father, just as hot-tempered, but cocky and self-assured. He gathered his schoolbooks up and hurled them across the room. ‘Right, I’ll go out now and join the dole queue, just like you and every other sucker round ’ere. You call that work, do yer?’

  Freedom struck him so hard that he sprawled on the floor. Alex sprang between them, trying to protect Edward. ‘Dad, no, don’t, don’t hit ’im no more.’

  Freedom lashed out at Alex in fury, trying to grab Edward, and now Evelyne pushed between her sons and Freedom. With her arms out she faced her husband.

  ‘You’ll have to hit me first, Freedom, I mean it. Just stop this nonsense right now or so help me God I’ll take the rolling pin to you, I will.’

  Freedom backed away. The three of them were against him, and he knew then that Evelyne would choose her sons before him. She was like a lioness with her cubs, glaring at him so fiercely . . . He turned and beat his fist against the fireplace.

  Evelyne shooed the boys from the room, but Edward held on to her. She shook her hand free. ‘Get out, the pair of you, leave us alone. Go on, nothing’s going to happen.’

  They slunk out and closed the door behind them. Freedom gave her such a helpless look, filled with guilt and remorse. It was the first time he had ever struck his sons, and his voice sounded choked in his throat. ‘I’d never have struck thee, Evie, God help me, never.’

  She held him in her arms and comforted him, whispering over and over that she knew, she knew it. She felt remorseful herself, it was becoming obvious that she put the boys before Freedom. ‘I’m sorry too, Freedom. I should never have gone against you. Sometimes Eddie needs a firm hand. Will you forgive me?’

  They kissed, it had been a long time since they kissed as lov
ers, and she sat on his knee by the fire. ‘What is it, my love, what’s hurting you so?’

  He buried his face in her chest, and she stroked his hair.

  ‘It’s the debt-collecting, Evie. It’s hard for me to face them that owes you, going to them with me hand out for their shillin’s. Some of ’em have nothin’, and to stand there frightening the life out of them, wantin’ money paid over, knowing they’ve not got it to give – it’s no job for a mun, I can’t do it no more.’

  Evelyne forced herself to keep her mouth shut, although she could have asked how he thought she felt. How did he think they could have lived so well for so long without her money-lending business?

  ‘Just don’t do anything against the law, the boys are doing so well and I don’t want people talking.’

  That did it. He pushed her away from him and grabbed his coat.

  ‘Always the boys, always them, when do you ever think of me? When it’s too late!’

  He slammed out of the kitchen.

  Eddie came downstairs and slipped his arms around his mother, kissed her and patted her head. ‘Maybe he’s right, Ma, I’m fourteen, I could get work.’

  She grabbed him and held him, shook him roughly. He was shocked by her tone, her expression. ‘You think I like collecting money I lend out? Do you? Why do you think I’m doing it, working myself into an early grave, why?’

  Edward backed away from her, and Alex came to stand at his side, as their mother marched around the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves as if she was ready for a fight.

  ‘Both of you are going places, getting out of this slum, and you won’t do it like your father, with your fists. You’ll do it with your brains. So help me God I’ll go out on the streets if need be, to make sure you both stay at school, now is that clear, clear to both of you?’

  They nodded solemnly.

  ‘Right now, get your work and I’ll fix us tea.’

  Alex ran into the hallway, but as Edward turned to follow him he felt his hair tugged, and Evelyne kicked the door closed. She hit him so hard on his right ear that his head spun.

  ‘If I ever hear you talk to your Dad in that tone of voice again I’ll beat the living daylights out of you. Now hop it.’

  Freedom was gone for more than two weeks, longer than he had ever stayed away from home before. At the weekend the brothers went around collecting the debts, and a couple of times they had to get tough in order to be paid. When they returned, they got out the books and began to tally up as Evelyne was out shopping. Edward fiddled the figures and pocketed sixpence, and Alex saw him do it. He wouldn’t eat the toffee bar Edward offered him later.

  Evelyne went to Ed’s brother’s house. There was a showdown on the cards as they owed her two pounds fifteen shillings, which was long overdue. There was no way around it – she couldn’t run her home and support the Meadows family. But the rent-collector had got there before her, and two bailiffs waited outside with a cart. The Meadows owed six months’ back rent at eighteen shillings a week.

  ‘We’re on the street, nothing we can do.’

  Evelyne didn’t like the way the rent-collector shouldered her aside. The bailiffs hammered on the door and shouted that the Meadows had better pay up or get out, otherwise they would break the door down. They couldn’t wait all day, they had another call to make.

  Again Evelyne was thrust aside and the two bailiff’s men forced their way into the house. She barred their entrance. ‘Out, the pair of you, there’s no one moving a stick of furniture from here. Bugger off, or I’ll get my boys . . .’

  They hesitated, looking for guidance from the rent-collector. Evelyne siezed her chance. ‘Now, it’s Mr Simms, isn’t it?’

  Mr Simms, the most hated man in the district, pursed his chalk-white lips and adjusted his bowler. ‘Yes it is, and I know who you are – Mrs Stubbs from number twelve. Now I’ve never had any trouble from you, so let’s not start now. I am within the law, so I suggest you just leave well alone. The only way round this situation is for the back rent to be paid.’

  Half an hour later in the kitchen of number twelve, the situation was more than resolved, and the bailiffs left with the cart to call on their next poor victim.

  Evelyne Stubbs bought the Meadows’ house, and they now had to pay their rent to her. She calculated that the rent would cover the cost of the house by the time Edward was in his final year at school. Knowing Ed’s brother’s financial state better than anyone, she offered him a job. He would collect the debts, and she would deduct the rent from his wages.

  Edward looked up from his homework, threw down his pencil and picked up his mother’s accounts book. ‘You know, Ma, if you could, it might be a good thing to get hold of Auntie Freda and Uncle Ed’s place. It’d be about the same price.’

  Evelyne smiled and told him she’d already looked into it, and liked the fact that he was taking an interest. ‘You just do your homework, lovey, and I’ll think about it.’

  Alex came in with a box, saying the rabbit looked poorly. He sat the box down in front of the fire. The rabbit was panting, its eyes glazed. ‘He misses Dad. When do you think he’ll be coming home, Ma?’

  Alex really meant that he himself was missing Freedom, but he didn’t like to admit it. He was closer to Freedom than Edward was, and night after night he stood by the front window watching for his father. Evelyne sighed, put down her sewing and brought some water for the rabbit. She had no idea where Freedom was – she had had no word. She was worried, of course, but at the same time the house was running like clockwork without him. ‘He’s working with Jesse, he’ll be home when the time is right. Don’t fret yourself, Alex. Done your homework, have you?’

  The next day, at school assembly, the headmaster announced that the King was dead. Rows of small faces looked up in awe, and some of the juniors whispered ‘what king?’, but the whole school cheered when they were told they were being given the day off. This was not the effect the headmaster had desired, but shouts for quiet went unheard as the boys streamed out gleefully.

  Edward and Alex took the tram home, and finding the house locked they went down the alley and along the canal to climb over the back wall. It was January 1936, and King George was to be replaced on the throne by his eldest son Edward VIII. England went into mourning, but the Stubbs boys were thrilled that they had a whole afternoon to themselves.

  Alex stood on Edward’s hands and climbed over into the yard, while Edward stood on an old crate and followed. He found Alex in tears by his rabbit hutch. Not only had the King died, so had his beloved rabbit.

  Evelyne was out working, collecting her rents and doing her bakery accounts. Freedom had still not come back, and when she let herself into the house she called his name, thinking he had returned. She was surprised to find the boys waiting for her. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there? Why aren’t you both at school?’

  Edward searched through her shopping bag for something to eat. ‘King’s dead, we all got the day off – I’m starvin’, Ma!’

  She took the bag away from him, muttering that no one had told her about the King, but that must be why the traffic was so bad. ‘You’d best both sit at the table and do your school work, then. And no moaning, you’re both old enough to know better. Lads your age were already working down the mines . . . You all right, Alex, you’re a bit quiet?’

  Eddie told her that the rabbit had died, that they had buried it by the canal. ‘I got a shillin’ for its cage, Ma, here’s sixpence for you to buy yourself something.’

  Alex glanced at his brother. He could lie so well, not a flicker on his face, and Alex was ashamed.

  Touched by Edward’s gift, Evelyne kissed him and said that they could have threepence each, but no more rabbits.

  Later that night, as Evelyne brushed her hair, she heard soft, muffled sobs. She peeked into the boys’ room.

  Edward was sprawled across his bed. The blankets were tumbled, and the bed was surrounded by books, football boots, and the clothes he had taken off and dropped on th
e floor. On the opposite side of the room was Alex’s neat bed, with the sheets and blankets just so. His school satchel and books were stacked neatly on his bedside box. It was Alex who was weeping, holding his pillow over his face.

  Evelyne crept over to him and gently lifted the pillow. His eyes were red-rimmed from crying. She put her finger to her lips, pulled the bedclothes aside and gestured for him to follow her to her own room.

  ‘Now, my love, what’s all this about? Nothing wrong at school, is there? You want to tell me about it?’

  Alex gulped his tears, bit his trembling lip.

  ‘Is it the rabbit? Come on, get into bed with me . . . come on, Edward won’t know. And it’s not cissy, you’re still only ten.’

  ‘Nearly eleven.’

  ‘So you are, so you are.’

  Alex snuggled close to his mother, and she kissed the top of his head. She asked again what was wrong.

  ‘I miss him, every day I look for him. Eddie says he might never come back . . . Oh, Ma . . . where’s me Dad?’

  ‘Now, now, it’s not me, it’s my, and your Dad is just away working. Don’t you pay any attention to Edward. I’ll give him a piece of my mind tomorrow for telling you such things.’

  ‘Oh, no, please don’t. He’ll know I’ve said something.’

  ‘All right, I won’t. Now snuggle up, and I’ll read to you. I’ll read my favourite poem, how’s that?’

  Alex was delighted, and with his arms wrapped around her he listened to her soft, lilting Welsh voice. She had tried so hard not to pick up the East End accent. It had been difficult – everyone she worked and mixed with spoke the local dialect – but she prided herself that she spoke well.

  ‘Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far into the silent land, When you can no more hold me by the hand . . . ’ Evelyne knew the poem by heart.

  Alex sighed, slowly his eyelids drooped, and he slept curled up beside his beloved mother. Evelyne lay, unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes filled with tears as she wondered where Freedom was . . .