by Kitty Neale
‘Wait here,’ Sarah said and after running back to their room to see that Tommy was asleep, she crept out again, gently closing the door behind her. Roger smiled when he saw her, and her heart leaped. She sat on the step and he joined her, placing an arm across her shoulder. Sarah cleared her throat. ‘Mo said something a bit odd today. She said you were going to be doing something for your mum.’
‘Did I say my mum? I meant my aunt.’
‘Mo also said you’re cheeky. What do you think she meant by that?’
‘Well, I suppose I am really. You have to be, down the market. The women love it, especially the old girls, and they become regular customers. Tell you what, how about I be cheeky now and kiss you …’
Sarah had no time to answer and found herself tingling to the feel of Roger’s tongue in her mouth. He pulled her closer to him and his kisses became more passionate as his breathing intensified.
‘I want you, Sarah,’ he said huskily and pushed his hand in between her legs, forcing them slightly apart.
She could feel his hand rubbing on the outside of her knickers, and though it thrilled her, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. ‘Not here … not like this,’ she whispered.
‘Let’s go inside then. Tommy will be out for the count by now.’
Sarah froze. His suggestion brought back terrible memories of pretending to be asleep while her mother had entertained men. The grunts, the groans and the smells, it had been disgusting. She jumped to her feet and straightened her clothes. ‘You’d better go now,’ she said coldly and dismissively. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Roger looked bewildered, but shrugged his shoulders. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said, then spun on his heel and stomped off towards his van.
‘Wait,’ Sarah shouted, then ran towards him. She stood on tiptoe and placed her mouth on his. After a long kiss she pulled away and said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and I think Tommy has got a fever.’
Roger gave her a gentle squeeze. ‘I’ve been waiting weeks for you, and I’ll wait longer if I have to, but please tell me you ain’t going to hold out on me until our wedding night?’
They’d never discussed sex before or anything related to marriage, so Sarah was staggered at his question. She hadn’t really given it much thought, but she loved him and he’d said he loved her too. Regardless of the advice her mother had given her, if they were getting married, what would be the harm? ‘Are you going to marry me then?’ she said.
‘I might,’ Roger answered playfully. ‘Depends if you’re going to be my proper girlfriend.’
Sarah understood what he meant and shyly nodded. ‘I will be. Goodnight, my proper boyfriend.’
She walked with him to the kerb and watched him climb into his van. He waved at her as he drove off, and she waved back, feeling that a milestone had been reached. The milder evening air cooled her flushed cheeks, and feeling elated she looked up to see Mo looking down at her from her upstairs window. She waved again, this time at Mo, but she didn’t wave back. Sarah frowned; something didn’t feel right. Mo’s face was deadpan, then she stepped back and out of sight. It was very strange – maybe Mo hadn’t seen her, though she was sure she had.
As she went inside, Sarah thought she heard Tommy moan and dashed to their room, dismissing all thoughts of Mo’s peculiar behaviour. She perched on the edge of Tommy’s bed and gently stroked his hair, while her mind drifted to thoughts of Roger. His sensual touch had made her quiver with delight, and though they weren’t yet married, they were committed and she felt ready to move their relationship on to the next stage.
Chapter 35
The following evening, Lena checked herself one final time in her bedroom mirror. Albert would be here soon, and her nerves were jangling. Her hair was curled to perfection, and she wore a smart brown skirt with a matching jacket, and a white blouse. It wasn’t what she’d describe as sexy, and if anything, it made her look a bit like a school headmistress, but she’d deemed the outfit suitable for her date.
Pleased with her appearance, Lena picked up her handbag just as she heard George come home. He was later than usual, but had said he was going to pick up some second-hand stock that he’d been offered for a knockdown price.
‘You look … nice. Is that what you’re wearing for your date with Mr Bosco?’ George asked as he came in, a small frown creasing his brow.
‘Yes, what’s wrong with it?’ Lena asked, suddenly having second thoughts about her choice.
‘Nothing … nothing’s wrong with it at all … if you were going to meet the bank manager.’
‘Oh, George, it’s too late for me to change now, he’ll be here any minute.’
‘Take no notice of me, Mum, you look lovely. You always do. I’m just teasing you.’
There was a knock on the door and when George opened it she could see Mr Bosco, almost hidden behind a large bouquet of flowers. She hurried down the last few stairs. ‘Albert, come in,’ she invited. ‘Are they for me?’
‘Yes, I hope you like them.’
‘They’re beautiful,’ Lena said and took the bunch. ‘It’s been a while since anyone’s bought me flowers. George, I’ve left you a salad and there’s some nice crusty bread. Be a love and get a vase out from under the sink. Put these in water for me and I’ll see you later.’
‘Yeah, will do,’ George said as he looked at Albert.
She kissed her son on the cheek and handed him the bouquet, hoping he wouldn’t say something embarrassing. Albert looked awkward enough as he stood in the hall so she was keen to get him out of the front door and away from George’s scrutiny.
Once outside, Albert held the passenger-side door open and Lena climbed into the car. She was immediately impressed with the red and cream leather interior, and her nose twitched at the smell of polish.
‘You look nice,’ Albert said as he started the car engine.
‘Thank you, so do you,’ Lena replied, noting his suit, which looked brand new, and smart shirt. After years of her husband and now her son working with second-hand clothes, Lena had a good eye for quality, and could always tell when something was new.
‘I’ve reserved us a table at Allesandro’s. It’s a small Italian restaurant in Chelsea. Do you like Italian food?’
Lena had never tasted Italian cuisine, apart from the ice-creams at De Marco’s. ‘I couldn’t say, but I’m sure I will,’ she answered and wondered what sort of food it would be. Maybe spaghetti with meatballs? She pictured a scene in her favourite comedy film in which the characters had been given big bowls of the stuff. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory.
‘What’s so funny?’ Albert asked.
‘Oh, nothing really. I’m just remembering an old film with scenes of spaghetti and meatballs,’ she answered.
‘The Marx Brothers film? A Night at the Opera?’ Albert asked.
‘Yes! It’s my favourite,’ she said.
‘Mine too.’
Lena began to relax and found she was enjoying herself. They didn’t only share being widowed, but also the same sense of humour. She’d been hesitant about accepting a night out with a man, but now was glad she had.
‘Can I have a jam sandwich?’ Tommy asked.
‘No, you can’t,’ Sarah answered firmly.
‘But I’m hungry.’
‘Then you should have eaten your dinner.’
‘But I hate liver.’
‘Oh, all right, you can have a jam sandwich, but then it’s bed for you, young man.’
‘Fanks, Mum. Is Roger coming to see you?’
‘Yes, and he should be here soon.’
‘Do you think he’ll bring me another banana? If he does I’m going to share it with Larry. He said his mum gave him peaches and milk from a tin after his tea yesterday. Can we have peaches and milk from a tin too?’
‘We’ll see. Now enough questions.’
Sarah sliced the bread, and then looked at the milk. She’d have to boil it if it was to last. The warm weather was t
urning the milk quicker, and it didn’t help that she had no proper larder. She finished making the sandwich and handed it to Tommy.
He gobbled it down, and she told him to go and clean his teeth. Just then there was a knock on the front door. ‘That’ll be Roger,’ she said.
‘Are you going to sit outside with him again?’
‘Yes, but you don’t have to worry. I’ll only be sitting on the doorstep.’
Sarah ran to let Roger in and as she opened the door she thought he looked gorgeous in a buttoned-up cardigan, just like a picture she’d seen of James Dean. ‘Hello, Roger. I haven’t got Tommy into bed yet, and I doubt I’ll be able to for a while now, not once he sees you’re here.’
‘That’s all right. I’ve got a treat for the lad,’ Roger said and lightly kissed Sarah.
Tommy came running from the bathroom. ‘Roger, Mum just made me a jam sandwich ’cos I didn’t eat my dinner … liver … erk!’
‘Can’t say I blame you, but you’re a lucky boy. My mum wouldn’t have given me anything else if I’d left even a mouthful of food on my plate.’
‘See, I’m far too soft with you, Tommy. Now come on, bedtime.’
‘Can I stay up for a while? Please, Mum.’
‘If you do as your mum tells you, you can have this,’ Roger said, and pulled a yo-yo from a pocket of his tweed trousers.
‘Cor, thanks, Roger,’ Tommy chirped happily as he scrambled into his bed. ‘I know how to do the yo-yo ’cos Larry’s big sister has got one.’
‘Put it under your pillow and you can play with it in the morning,’ Sarah told him as she tucked him in. ‘Go to sleep now.’
‘Night, Tommy,’ said Roger.
‘Sleep now, I’ll only be outside,’ Sarah said softly.
Tommy didn’t protest, and once on the doorstep, Roger pulled her into his arms. Sarah closed her eyes as she felt his tongue in her mouth and his lips pressing hard on hers. The kiss was a long one, but then he sat down on the step and took her hand, gently pulling her down to sit next to him.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, ‘it’s not ideal sitting out here most nights, and once the winter’s here, it’s going to be impossible.’
‘I know, but what else can we do? I can’t leave Tommy by himself.’
‘You could move in with me, both of you. There’s only me and my dad, and he’s down the Labour Club most nights. Tommy would have his own room, and a garden.’
Sarah hadn’t been expecting that, and baulked at his suggestion. She couldn’t live in sin with him. She could just imagine the gossip. ‘I can’t do that. What would people say? I mean, we’re not married or anything, it wouldn’t be right.’
‘Mo and Sam live together and they ain’t married,’ Roger pointed out.
‘Yeah, well, it’s all right for them, but I’ve got Tommy to think about. What sort of morals would I be teaching him?’
‘It was just a suggestion. We’ve only been dating a short time and I think it’s too soon to think about marriage yet. I thought us living together would be the perfect solution.’
Sarah could tell from the tone of his voice that he wasn’t happy she’d declined his offer. Though it had hurt a little that he thought it was too soon to marry, she knew he was right. He’d loosely mentioned marriage before, and one day she hoped for a proposal, along with a nice engagement ring. However, until then, she hoped what she had to say next would placate him. ‘I’ve been really busy lately, but I’ve been thinking about moving, and you’ve got a good point about Tommy. He does need his own room.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, but in the meantime, are we supposed to sit on this concrete step night after night?’ Roger asked.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I can’t ask Lena to babysit – it wouldn’t feel right, you know, with George having feelings for me. It’d be like rubbing salt in his wound.’
‘You could ask Mo.’
‘She’s fine about having him during the day, but she only gets one night off a week. It’s the only one she gets to spend with Sam, so I can hardly ask her to babysit.’
‘Well, I ain’t being funny, Sarah, but you’re not really his mother. You’ve made Tommy your responsibility, but he doesn’t have to be. You could put him in a children’s home. The one round here ain’t too bad, and you could visit him at weekends.’
Unable to believe her ears and disgusted with Roger, Sarah jumped to her feet. ‘How could you even suggest such a thing? I know I’m not his mother, but I’ve raised him from the minute he was born and I held him in my arms. I love Tommy and would never, ever, put him in a home. I’m sorry that you find him such an inconvenience … and … and I think you should leave now.’
Roger stood up and reached for her hand again. ‘Calm down, woman. Blimey, if I thought you’d react like this, I would have kept my mouth shut.’
‘Yes, well, you should have,’ Sarah snapped.
‘I’m sorry. Tell you what, I’ll help you look for somewhere decent to live. I can run you anywhere in my van if it helps.’
Sarah felt her mood soften, but Roger’s talk of abandoning Tommy in a home had hurt her deeply. It seemed he didn’t know her at all, and after the things he’d said tonight, she questioned how much she really knew him.
Chapter 36
George had been back at work for a month now, but there was still tension between him and Roger. He hadn’t seen Sarah in all that time, but heard from his mum that she was doing well, and seemed to be happy with her man. If only she knew what he was really like, thought George, as he saw Roger chatting up the young woman who worked in the café on the market.
‘Penny for ’em?’ he heard a voice say.
He turned to see an old woman with a stooped back. ‘My thoughts ain’t worth that much,’ George said to her and tried to sound cheerful.
‘When you’ve been around as long as me, young man, you get to know a thing or two. It’s a woman, it always is. You love her but she’s out of your reach,’ the old woman said.
‘Yeah, that just about sums it up.’
‘Don’t give up … your time is coming …’ the old woman said as she hobbled away. ‘She’ll be yours one day. I can see it, you know. But she’ll always yearn for the boy.’
George listened, dumbstruck. He shook his head, thinking she had lost her mind, yet unable to get her words out of his head. Silly old cow, he thought, she didn’t have a clue, though he would have liked it to be true.
Another woman, pushing a large pram, stopped at his stall. ‘Do you have any new-born stuff?’ she asked.
‘Yes, a whole box over there,’ George replied and went around to the side of his stall where he kept the baby clothes. The woman began to rummage, and George stood waiting, his mind churning over what the old woman had said. He was close to Roger’s stall, and when he heard the girl from the café call out, his ears pricked.
‘I’ll see you tonight then, Roger, and this time you’re not shooting off so early.’
George took a moment to digest what he’d heard, and then saw red as his blood boiled. The dirty cheating bastard, he thought. It was bad enough that Roger had pinched Sarah from under his nose, but he felt appalled to think of her being deceived and hurt. She was such a good, honest young woman and deserved more respect than that.
‘Excuse me, love,’ George ground out to the woman with the pram as he marched over to Roger, fuming.
Roger seemed unaware of his mood and shot him an arrogant smile, which fuelled George further. He raised his arm and pushed hard on Roger’s chest. ‘How could you? I know your game. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ he screeched.
Roger stumbled back, but his footing was saved as he fell against his stall. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What the hell was that for?’ Roger said as he held his hands out in front of him in a calming motion.
‘I just heard you – arranging to see that bird from the café. What about Sarah, eh? I bet she ain’t got a fucking clue what you’re up to.’
George was aware that the market had fallen quiet and all eyes were on him, but he couldn’t help himself and grabbed Roger’s shoulder. He clenched his other fist and punched him, clipping his chin.
Roger’s head went back with the force of the blow, but he didn’t retaliate. Instead, he rubbed his face and said, ‘I’ll let you have that one, George, but stay out of mine and Sarah’s business.’
‘No, I won’t! You can’t treat her like you’ve treated all the other women in your life. She’s different – special, and I won’t let you break her heart.’
‘Yeah, all right, she might be special to you, but what you gonna do about it?’
‘Either you stop seeing her or I’ll tell her what you’ve been up to,’ George said through gritted teeth.
‘Tell her what you want, George, she won’t believe you. She’ll think you’re making it up ’cos of sour grapes, and anyhow, I’ve got her twisted round my little finger … How do you like that?’
George puffed out his chest and clenched his fist again, ready to jump on Roger, but suddenly felt strong arms holding him back, and a voice in his ear saying, ‘Leave it, George, break it up.’
‘Let me go!’ George shouted, and glanced sideways at the man restraining him, to see it was Ned the Nose from the ironmonger’s stall opposite his.
‘I’ll kill him, Ned, I’ll fucking kill him. Let me at him, will ya?’ George shouted as he struggled against Ned’s firm grip.
‘Calm down, mate, he ain’t worth it and the Old Bill are coming down the street.’
George knew it was pointless to fight against Ned. The man was almost twice the size of him and had the strength to match. ‘All right, all right,’ he said to Ned, then glared at Roger. ‘This ain’t over.’
Ned released his hold, and George straightened his clothes as he looked around the market. ‘What you all staring at?’ he shouted.
The costermongers and shoppers looked wary, and quickly resumed their business as George stomped back to his stall. He began packing things away. With what he knew, he couldn’t stand there and ignore the situation. Roger might be right, Sarah probably wouldn’t believe him, but she trusted his mum. He just hoped his mother could get to Sarah before Roger did.
