by Kitty Neale
Chapter 10
‘Wake up, Sarah. Time to go.’
Sarah awoke with a start. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus. The morning sun was beginning to stream through the small window. She looked at Tommy and was surprised to see him still soundly asleep. Who had spoken to her?
‘Who’s there?’ she whispered.
She stood up and tiptoed to the window, but couldn’t see anyone, though she was sure she’d heard someone speak to her. Tommy began to stir and yawned as he stretched.
‘Tommy, have you been playing tricks on me? Did you tell me to wake up and then pretend to be asleep?’ she asked, keeping her voice light.
She could tell from the confused expression on her brother’s face that he didn’t have an inkling of what she was talking about. Time to go, she thought, recalling the words she’d heard. It was a warning, it had to be. They had to get out of the shed, quick! ‘Come on, Tommy, get up, hurry! We’ve got to go.’
‘All right,’ Tommy said slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Sarah was irritated to see he wasn’t rushing himself. ‘Now,’ she said firmly.
Tommy stood up, and Sarah grabbed his hand before opening the door. To her horror she saw an old woman coming towards them. The woman’s back was bent and she was walking with a cane, but Sarah was amazed at the speed of the woman’s pace. Her hair was long and grey, which put Sarah in mind of a witch. She knew she should run but fear froze her to the spot. She stood stunned and watched as the old woman stopped just yards in front of her and began to angrily wave her cane, shaking it at Sarah. She had no doubt that the woman was more than capable of hitting her with it.
‘Go on, clear orf. I’ve called the police, you thieving bloody gypsies,’ the woman screeched.
‘I – I’m sorry … we – we just needed somewhere to sleep,’ Sarah said fretfully.
‘Well, you ain’t kipping in my shed. Go on, bugger off.’
Sarah glanced at Tommy. The child looked terrified. She yanked on his hand, and within seconds they were through the gate, but she could still hear the old woman shouting obscenities.
Once they were back on the streets, Tommy seemed to relax. ‘We was really, really, really quiet so how did she know we was in her shed?’ he asked.
‘I have no idea,’ Sarah answered, shaking her head, but as she remembered the voice, she knew that Mr Sayers had saved them. The woman had called the police and if they hadn’t been woken, the rozzers would have been on them before they could have made their escape.
George was busy setting up his stall, but he couldn’t shake the thought of Sarah from his mind.
‘Penny for them,’ Roger called. ‘You look like you’ve been away with the fairies for the last half hour.’
First thing in the morning, George would normally be full of banter and larking around with the other costermongers, but today he felt subdued. If he’d been blessed with Roger’s fine face, he might have had the courage to ask Sarah on a date, but, as was usual for him, he’d let the opportunity slip him by and now deeply regretted it. He could have kicked himself. He just hoped she’d pass his way again soon. ‘Sorry, mate, just got stuff on my mind,’ George answered, and forced a smile.
‘Oh, yeah. That wouldn’t be the pretty little thing I saw you chatting up yesterday, would it?’
‘Cor blimey, mate! You don’t miss a thing, do you?’ George replied, his mood lightening.
‘You know me. You’ve gotta keep your eyes and ears open here. Seriously though, who was she?’
‘I ain’t got a clue. I saw her sitting on the kerb. She looked down on her luck, but all I know is her name’s Sarah and her little brother is Tommy and they ain’t got no parents.’
‘You silly sod, fancy not asking her out! She was a looker, that’s for sure,’ Roger said, then tossed a potato over to George as he added, ‘That’s you that is, a proper spud head.’
George caught the potato and laughed. Yes, when it came to women, Roger was right, he was a spud head, though he’d never heard anyone being called it before.
Sarah held Tommy’s hand as she marched determinedly to the local shop. She knew they had a notice board where people would pay a small weekly amount to advertise on a card, and she was hoping to find a cheap room to rent.
‘Are we going to see George today?’ Tommy asked.
‘Not today.’
‘Ow, why not?’ he said, sounding disappointed.
‘Because it’s more important to find somewhere to live,’ Sarah answered, though she was reluctant to spend her money before she knew when more would be coming in.
‘Are we going to live in a proper house then?’
‘I hope so, let’s see,’ Sarah answered as they arrived at the shop. ‘Wait here, I won’t be long.’ She knew there would be an array of sweets displayed in jars behind the counter, so, to avoid temptation, she thought it best to go in alone.
‘Good morning, Miss,’ the shopkeeper chirped, but Sarah noticed he hardly lifted his eyes from the magazine he was reading.
‘Good morning. Is it OK if I have a quick look at your notices?’
‘Yes, of course, just don’t go unpinning any off the board. You’d be amazed at the number of people who see something they fancy and take the card with them.’
‘I won’t, but do you have a pen and paper I could use?’
The shopkeeper looked up from his magazine and eyed her up and down. She knew she looked a mess, but she hoped her blue coat covered her scruffy clothes.
‘Here you go,’ he said, and took a pencil from behind his ear, handing it to her with a scrap of paper. ‘I shall want my pencil back when you’re done.’
Sarah thanked the man and scanned the notice board. There were plenty of adverts for rooms and flats, but most were too expensive. Then she spotted one that looked affordable. A ground-floor room in a shared house. It was unfurnished but at least it would be shelter from the cold, wet nights. She quickly scribbled down the telephone number before thanking the shopkeeper and returning his pencil.
The bell above the shop door rang as Sarah opened it to leave, but once outside, her stomach flipped as she realised her brother was nowhere to be seen. ‘Tommy,’ she frantically called, ‘Tommy …’ Her eyes darted up and down the deserted street, and she began to panic. It wasn’t like him to wander off alone, and she wondered what could have happened to him.
A middle-aged woman appeared on her doorstep. ‘Are you looking for the young lad in the army coat?’
‘Yes, my brother. Have you seen him?’
‘He ran off up the street with a couple of other boys. You’ll probably find them round the back. There’s an old warehouse there that the kids like to play in.’
‘Thank you,’ Sarah replied, feeling some relief. She ran along the street and around to the back of the houses, and soon found the disused warehouse, just as the woman had described. She noticed the windows were smashed, and, from what she could see, half the roof was missing. She didn’t think it looked like a safe building for children to be playing in, and could feel her heart hammering hard in her chest.
Sarah pulled open a metal door that was hanging only by its upper hinges. The concrete floor was littered with dead leaves, and she was startled by a pigeon taking off from its roost. ‘Tommy,’ she called again, and listened as her voice echoed through the derelict building. ‘Tommy, I know you’re in here, so stop playing silly beggars.’
She heard some giggling from around a wall, and young voices saying, ‘Shush’. As she turned the corner, she found herself locking eyes with Tommy, who was obviously oblivious to the fear he’d just caused her.
‘You little bugger,’ she said through gritted teeth, then stomped towards him, grabbed his arm, and laid three hefty whacks on his backside.
The other boys ran off, leaving Tommy sobbing.
‘I was only playing hide and seek with my friends,’ he cried.
Sarah suddenly felt awful for hitting the child. She’d never laid a hand on
him before, and memories of her mother snapped into her mind. ‘I know, I’m sorry for smacking you, but you scared the living daylights out of me. You mustn’t ever run off like that again, do you understand me?’
Tommy nodded his head and wiped his snotty nose on the cuff of his coat.
‘And who are those boys? You don’t even know them. They’re not your friends.’
‘They is Jerry and John and they said I could play with them.’
‘Well, next time, you ask me first,’ Sarah said in a softer voice.
Both calmer, Sarah led Tommy back to the street and they walked in silence to the post office. She’d seen a red telephone box outside, and was keen to ring the number for the room rental, hoping it was still available.
Once they found the telephone box, Tommy squeezed inside with Sarah. ‘I’ve never been in a telephone box before,’ he said, and breathed on one of the small glass windows. The window misted up and Sarah watched as he amused himself by drawing pictures with his fingers in the condensation.
She was relieved when she got through to Mrs Preston, who had placed the advert, and found the room was still available. The woman agreed to meet Sarah immediately at the house, though she didn’t sound over-enthusiastic at letting out one of her properties to an unemployed woman caring for a young child. She told Sarah she’d require a significant payment of rent in advance, and, with little choice, Sarah agreed.
When they arrived at the terraced house, Mrs Preston was waiting outside. Sarah could tell by the woman’s attire that she was wealthy. Her gloves were pristine white, and on her grey hair she wore a smart hat with a diamond pin. Her car was parked outside, and Sarah noticed a man in an official-looking cap sat at the steering wheel.
‘Mrs Preston, pleased to meet you. I’m Sarah Jepson and this is my brother Tommy.’
‘Yes, well, I don’t have time for chitter chatter.’ She opened the front door, and led them to a good-sized room with a window above a sink that overlooked the street.
Sarah instantly smelled the damp, but the room was cheap and it would have to do.
‘As we discussed, I will require six weeks’ rent in cash,’ Mrs Preston said, holding a white handkerchief to her nose.
‘Yes, that’s fine. We’ll take it,’ Sarah replied, and counted out the money.
Mrs Preston took the cash and wrote a receipt which she handed to Sarah, saying, ‘In future, Mr Terence will collect your rent, due fortnightly. I don’t normally visit the properties myself, but Mr Terence is unavailable today. If you cannot pay, you will be evicted. I am not a charity, and I will not tolerate any sob stories.’
‘I understand,’ said Sarah, noting that the woman was looking down her nose.
With that, Mrs Preston handed Sarah the keys and walked off in a haughty manner. Sarah closed the room door, then turned happily to Tommy. ‘This is ours. This is our new home.’
‘But where are the beds?’
‘All in good time, we’ll make do for now. Anyway, who cares about beds and stuff? No more sheds for us, we’ve got our own home.’
Sarah was pleased to see Tommy smile, and felt proud of herself for providing a home for him, though she was worried that the rent she’d paid had left her with very little money.
‘Can we have something to eat now? I’m so hungry that my belly thinks my head has been chopped off.’
Sarah laughed. ‘I’ll tell you what, how about we put this old blanket on the floor, go and get some food, then come back and have a picnic?’
‘Yes,’ Tommy said with delight, ‘can we have cake?’
She fumbled the remaining coins in her coat pocket. They’d eat like kings tonight, but tomorrow would be a different story.
Chapter 11
The next day, Sarah sat on a bench in a churchyard close to the Thames. She liked it there. It was quiet and tranquil, which gave her time to think clearly.
‘I’m bored, can we go now?’ Tommy asked.
He’d been wandering around looking at the headstones, but now sat next to Sarah on the bench.
‘In a minute,’ she answered.
‘Can we go back to the bridge and look for more treasure?’
‘That was a bit of a fluke the other day. I doubt there would be anything else there now.’
‘Please, Sarah. It’s much more fun than sitting here with all the dead people in their forever boxes under the ground.’
He had a point, she thought, and reluctantly stood up to leave. She didn’t expect there would be anything in the mud again, but she’d humour her brother, if only to stop him moaning.
Battersea Bridge was just around the corner, and soon Tommy was racing off again to look over onto the banks. ‘Pick me up,’ he asked as he held onto the balustrades and jumped up and down.
Sarah lifted him up, and Tommy squealed in delight.
‘I don’t believe it, Sarah … there’s more treasure!’
‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, and placed him on the ground to look over the edge for herself. To her utter amazement she saw something glistening in the mud again, but she couldn’t believe it could be anything like what she’d found before. It was more likely to be an old tin can, she thought.
‘Told ya … I told you there’d be more treasure, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, Tommy, you did.’
They both ran to the steps and raced down to the foreshore. When Sarah got to the bottom, she noticed the water’s edge was closer than it had been last time. It was later in the morning, so she assumed the tide must be coming in.
‘Stay here, like before. I’ll go and get it,’ Sarah instructed, and set off across the mud. She’d never taken much notice of the river before now, and wasn’t sure how quickly the water would rise. She’d heard stories of people drowning in the Thames, so with her heart pounding she hurried to retrieve the item before it could get lost under the water.
‘Got it,’ she called over her shoulder to Tommy. She looked towards the water to see it approaching faster than she had anticipated. With no time to hang about, she made a hasty retreat to Tommy on the steps.
‘What is it, Sarah?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said, looking curiously at the item in her hand, but she thought it might be valuable.
‘Can I see?’ Tommy asked.
Sarah handed it to him. It was round and silver with a chain attached. He wiped the round part on his shorts, then pushed in a tiny catch on the side which flipped a lid open.
‘Wow, Sarah, look. It’s a clock.’
Sarah took the watch from Tommy and noticed the time read half past eleven. She guessed it must have been the time it had fallen into the water, but she didn’t know if that had been in the night or morning. Then she looked closer at the silver lid and saw it was engraved with the initials A. S. and dated 1903.
A wave of guilt washed over her. It was easily identifiable so she should take it to the police station, but she already knew she had no intention of doing so. She reasoned Tommy’s well-being was more important than a watch. Whoever had lost it was obviously wealthy. If she could sell it, it would be a small loss for the owner but a life-saver for them.
George was pleased to have sold several garments from his stall, and the continual flow of customers had kept him from thinking about Sarah. Now, as lunchtime loomed, and with a lull in custom, his stomach groaned.
‘George, fancy a pie?’ Roger called.
‘Cor, do I, yes, great idea,’ George answered, thinking Roger must have read his mind.
‘Do you want to nip to the pub and get them? I’ll keep an eye on yours, only I’ve got my hands full here,’ Roger said as he weighed out some carrots for a middle-aged woman.
George clapped his hands together and headed off towards the pub on the corner of the market. He thought the landlady, Violet, baked the best pies in Battersea, even better than his mum’s, and he was looking forward to biting into one. Several people said hello to him as he passed them. He was well known in the market and his old wounds had le
ft him easily recognisable. The pub was busy, so George found himself having to wait a while to be served, but it’ll be worth it, he thought to himself, as he discussed the weather with a couple of acquaintances at the bar.
Eventually, with two pies in hand, he headed back to the stalls. He could see Roger had his fingerless gloved hands cupped to his face and was blowing on them to keep them warm. ‘There you go, mate, this’ll help keep the chill out,’ he said and handed Roger one of the hot meat pies.
‘Cheers, George. You’ve been gone a while, and you’ll never guess what?’ Roger said.
‘You’ve sold all my stock and made me a small fortune?’ George joked.
‘No, you only bloody well missed that girl … what’s her name … Sarah.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘No, straight up. I saw her and that little lad walk past the end of the road. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t bump into her, you must have only just missed her.’
George shoved his pie into Roger’s hand. ‘Which way did she go?’ he asked.
Before Roger had a chance to answer, George spun around and ran to chase after Sarah, but he heard Roger shout, ‘Right, turn right.’
Sarah had been into the public toilets again, and now, with the silver watch cleaned up, she was hoping to find somewhere suitable to sell it. She didn’t want to go up town like George had suggested when she had the bracelet. She’d never been over the bridge before, but had heard the people on the other side of the Thames were right toffs. That’s probably where the watch came from, she thought.
George had told her the police walked along the market, so she decided it was probably better to stay away from there too. With Tommy alongside her, she searched the streets in the hope of finding a pawnshop. She’d never been in one before but remembered, when she was about Tommy’s age, she’d had to wait outside while her mother went in to sell a ring a man had given her. Sarah had been fascinated by the three brass balls hanging over the shop sign. When her mother had come out, she’d been delighted and had dragged Sarah to the pub, where, once again, she had been left to wait outside.
