Big Dreams for the West End Girls

by Elaine Roberts

  14

  Drops of rain hit Philip’s arms and legs as he sat on the edge of the pavement. His grey woollen socks sat down by his ankles. He wiped his wet arm down the front of his navy blue shirt. The raised slurred voices of men discussing the war could be heard as they came out of the public house over the road. People stared at him as they walked past. He looked too clean and well turned out to be living on the streets begging. Philip looked around him wishing he hadn’t left the café. Now he didn’t know where he was or how to get home. Should he ask someone? His grandma always told him not to talk to strangers, and if he was lost to find a policeman. Philip looked up and down the road but he couldn’t see a policeman so what should he do? A man stopped just in front of him.

  ‘You all right, young man?’

  Philip squinted up at him. His eyes suddenly widened with fear. ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘Are you waiting for someone?’

  Philip nodded.

  The man stared at him for a moment before walking on. He stopped and looked over his shoulder before walking away.

  Philip started crying, his tears free-falling down his face. Once he started he couldn’t stop.

  ‘What did that man say to you?’

  Philip looked up and saw Frank looking back at him. He gave a little watery smile as relief coursed through him. ‘Frank, I’m lost. I don’t know how to get back to the café or home.’

  Frank shook his head. ‘Is that a reason for crying like a baby?’

  Philip wiped his eyes with his hands before squinting up at the man who had spent hours chatting to him in the café. ‘I can’t help it. I’m scared.’

  Frank scowled and sat down on the pavement next to him. ‘Don’t try and get clever with me. It’s about time yer grew up. My pa would never ’ave allowed me to sit on the pavement crying like a baby. That would ’ave got me a good ’iding from him; ’e probably would ’ave took his belt to me.’ He gingerly put one hand over the other, covering up his red knuckles before looking at Philip. ‘I bet you’ve never ’ad the belt took to yer, ’ave yer?’

  ‘No.’ Philip’s bottom lip quivered.

  Frank leant in nearer to Philip. ‘You’ve got to learn to look after yourself; if I ’ave learnt nothing in my life I’ve learnt that yer can’t trust no one. Everyone wants something. Do yer understand?’

  Philip clenched his hands across his knees. He could smell smoke on Frank’s suit and his breath, which mingled with the strong smell of ale. It was a smell he recognised but he didn’t know where from. ‘Is your pa mean to you?’

  ‘Don’t ask questions. Do yer understand?’ Frank grabbed Philip’s arm. ‘Yer just a skinny runt ain’t yer?’

  Fear trampled across Philip’s face as he stared at Frank.

  Frank sighed. The boy looked terrified as he bit down on his lip. ‘Don’t look so scared. I draw a line at ’urting kids.’ He forced a smile. ‘Yer know that’s why yer ’ave to look tough, even if yer not. It’s all about ’ow people see yer. My pa taught me from an early age to look after myself. He used to make me ’ave fights with uffa kids in front of him and if I lost I got a good ’iding from ’im.’ He paused. ‘I got scars to prove it, but no one picks on me now, quite the opposite. You need to toughen up; it’s an ’ard life. Yer don’t get any prizes for being nice or coming second. Yer got to be the best yer can, yer understand?’

  Philip nodded. ‘My grandma said I should always be polite, always say please and thank you.’

  ‘Yeah well, that’s grandmas for yer. I bet yer pa had something different to say about it.’

  Philip shrugged. Frank scared him but at least he wasn’t on his own now.

  ‘What did he say?’

  Philip gripped his knees. ‘My pa used to tell me it was a tough world but I had to work hard at school and learn to talk properly. That way I could get a good job; you know, be in charge of the country or something. He said no one would pick on me then because I’d have money, and that’s what makes the world go round. That’s why my mum used to entertain men, to get money.’

  ‘How do yer know that?’

  Philip stared straight ahead. ‘I heard someone talking about it once.’

  Frank shook his head. ‘Anyway, yer won’t get streetwise by going to school.’ He looked around. A young boy was holding on to a little girl’s hand like his life depended upon it. Their clothes were dirty and torn. The lad glanced over; he stared for a moment before taking a step towards the road. Frank watched them but the lad appeared to change his mind. They turned around and walked back the way they’d come from. There were so many old people wandering around, ladies dragging their young children along the road while trying to carry shopping as well. It was a mugger’s paradise with all the men away fighting. But there were some things even he wouldn’t do and that’s where he drew the line. No one should pick on old ladies. That just wasn’t right.

  *

  Joyce frowned as she looked around her. Her body was tense and her hands were clenched as one held on to the other. ‘I don’t think we’re ever going to find him. Anything could have happened to him.’ She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes and blinked quickly.

  Rose peered at the many people who were still shopping. Some were milling around chatting. ‘I don’t know what to say, Joyce. All we can do is keep looking and if we can’t find him we’ll have to talk to the police.’

  Joyce’s throat tightened. The pain ran down her neck. ‘He could be here but he’s so small we wouldn’t be able to see him.’

  ‘I know. That’s why we have to keep moving.’

  A tear dropped on to Joyce’s cheek. ‘But what happens if we’re going the wrong way? He could be out here on his own in the dark.’ She immediately thought of the children she had given money to and shook her head. At least they had each other. Philip was on his own, unless of course someone had taken him. A chill ran down her spine as the thought ran riot in her head.

  Rose watched as the colour drained from Joyce’s face. ‘Maybe we should split up but I’m not keen to leave you on your own.’

  Joyce pushed down hard on a scream that was rising inside her. ‘I don’t matter. I have to do whatever I can to find Philip, and if that means walking the streets all night then that’s what I’ll do.’

  Stepping quickly to be closer to Joyce, Rose rested her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘It won’t come to that; we’re going to find him. Come on, let’s keep going.’

  Joyce nodded and sighed as she turned to look around her and yelled. ‘Philip.’ She waited before yelling his name again. ‘Philip.’ She raised her head heavenward. ‘Please God, if you can hear me, please forgive me for not giving Philip the attention he deserves. I was trying to do the right thing for everyone but none of that matters now. Please, I’m begging you let him be safe. He’s just a child. Let us find him safe and sound.’

  Rose watched on through watery eyes. ‘He will answer your prayers; you just got to have faith. Come on, let’s keep looking.’

  Joyce nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the crowds. She stepped forward slowly, weaving between them.

  ‘Miss, miss, ’ang on.’

  Joyce spun round on her heels. Her eyes darted from side to side but she couldn’t see Philip. She turned back to Rose. ‘Did you hear someone calling out?’

  Rose nodded. ‘Yes, it was a child’s voice but the boy may not have been calling us. He could have been calling anybody.’

  Joyce lowered her head. ‘I know, I just thought I recognised it.’ She felt a tug on the back of her coat and spun round again.

  ‘Miss, are you looking for yer boy? At least I fink it’s yer boy. I’ve only seen ’im around the market wiv yer a couple of times.’

  Joyce stooped down in front of the boy she had given money to a few months ago. His hand was clasped round his sister’s. ‘Have you seen him? He’s lost.’

  The boy’s eyes widened. ‘Yeah, in Shaftesbury Avenue. He was wiv a man and none of them looked ’appy but the boy looked sc
ared. I nearly went over to them but I ’ave to fink about me sister, yer know.’

  Joyce nodded. ‘I understand, thank you for letting me know.’ She opened her purse and searched for two silver coins. ‘Here, take this and get something to eat.’ She stood up. ‘Rose, I think we should head back to Shaftesbury Avenue.’ She glanced back at the children. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  The little girl stepped out from behind her brother. She tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘That’s all right, miss, you’ve always been kind to us and we don’t want anyfink to ’appen to ’im.’

  *

  Frank sighed. ‘I suppose you’re part right. You should work ’ard at school because then no one can mug yer off; yer know, tell lies about stuff.’ He looked down at Philip. ‘Yer should always look after yer family, and it’s not always blood either. Family’s important even in my line of work.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, let’s get yer ’ome. I expect Joyce is going out of ’er mind wiv worry.’

  Philip stood up and brushed his hands down the back of his short trousers. ‘Do you think she’ll be missing me?’

  Frank stared down at the boy. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

  Philip shrugged. ‘I’m nothing to her. I’m not family.’

  ‘As I said, family’s not just about blood; it’s what’s in yer ’eart that counts.’ Frank stared straight ahead as he stepped forward. ‘Where was yer going anyway, I mean when yer left the café?’

  Again Philip shrugged, running to keep up. ‘I wanted to go and see my grandma but then I got scared.’

  Frank chuckled. He thrust his hand inside his trouser pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes. ‘Well, you’ve walked quite a way down Shaftesbury Avenue.’ Frank pointed in the distance. ‘See that big shop sign? Well that’s Foyle’s Bookshop. We don’t want to go down there cos that’s Charing Cross Road. We’re going to go down Great Earl Street and then yer nearly ’ome.’ He opened the packet and pulled one out ready to smoke.

  Philip smiled. ‘So I didn’t have that far to go then?’

  Frank smiled down at him, ruffling his hair. ‘No, yer were nearly home.’ He was quiet while he pulled a match along the side of a matchbox. The rasping sound was repeated when it didn’t light. He held it up to the end of the cigarette. Smoke swirled up into the sky.

  *

  ‘Philip? Oh, thank goodness you’re safe.’ Joyce ran forward. ‘I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.’ She wrapped her arms around him before pulling back and having a good look at him. ‘Where have you been?’

  Rose watched on with relief.

  Philip’s eyes became watery. Frank nudged him so he blinked quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to get lost. I just wanted to see Grandma.’

  Joyce shook her head; she stooped down in front of him. ‘I know and I’m sorry. I will take you but having to work means I can’t just drop everything at a moment’s notice. I will take you, I promise.’ Joyce stood up, beaming at Frank.

  Rose wandered over and threw her arms around Philip. ‘Thank goodness you’re safe. We didn’t know where to start looking.’

  Frank drew on his cigarette. ‘I found him sitting on the pavement.’ He dropped his voice to a whisper.

  Joyce coughed as the cigarette smoke hit the back of her throat. ‘I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would’ve done if we hadn’t found him. Thank you.’

  Frank smiled. ‘Well, I’ll be on my way and let yer get on wiv yer family reunion.’

  Joyce looked at Philip. ‘Say thank you to Frank for looking after you.’

  Philip looked down at his feet. He scuffed his shoe on the pavement. ‘Thank you, Frank.’

  Frank nodded before turning to walk away from them.

  They stood there for a moment watching him.

  Rose frowned. ‘He’s certainly turning into your knight in shining armour; maybe he likes you more than you think.’

  Joyce scowled. ‘Of course not.’

  Philip peered up at Joyce. ‘I’m glad he was bringing me back. I was scared.’

  Joyce stooped down in front of the little boy who had crept into her heart. ‘I know, I was scared too; you shouldn’t leave without telling someone where you’re going.’

  Philip scowled. ‘Frank said it was time I grew up.’

  Joyce gasped. ‘Why would he say that?’

  Philip shrugged. ‘He was talking about his father and how he made him tough.’ He turned to look at Rose. ‘Still, I was glad he sat with me.’

  Joyce smiled, while ruffling his hair. ‘You must be hungry. I’ll make you some food.’

  Rose turned to Joyce. ‘I’m sorry but I’ve got to get back to the theatre to speak to Kitty about her wedding dress. I wouldn’t have gone if Philip was still missing but—’

  ‘Don’t worry, please go. We’re all right.’ Joyce squeezed Rose’s arm. ‘Thank you so much for being with me. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been on my own, and don’t say panic because I did that anyway.’

  Rose chuckled. ‘Well, thankfully he’s unharmed so all’s well that ends well, but I’ll only go if you’re sure you’ll be all right?’

  ‘Of course. Go on, I don’t want you to be late. We’ll be fine; thanks again.’

  *

  Rose took in great gulps of air, trying to level her breathing before going to see Kitty. The rain had held off. It had been threatening for the last couple of hours, and with no umbrella she would have got soaked. Looking for Philip had made it quite a rush not to be late for her appointment. She studied the scrawling lines on the page of her sketchpad. The wedding dress had simple lines but maybe it was too simple for Kitty. She closed the pad before picking it up. The chair scraped across the floor of the sewing room as she pushed it back to stand up. Rose marched towards Kitty’s dressing room and knocked lightly on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ Kitty’s musical voice rang out.

  Rose turned the handle and stepped into the room. ‘Good evening, Kitty, I’ve come to show you some of my ideas for your wedding dress.’ Rose could hear the nerves in her own voice.

  Kitty put down her lipstick. It was her trademark crimson red, which added a distinct colour to her face. She clapped her hands together. ‘Oh good, come in, come in and show me. This is exciting.’

  Rose could feel the heat rising in her face. Her hands trembled as she clutched her pad. ‘I hope you like them, but remember I’m not an artist so they’re pretty rough sketches. Feel free to be honest about them please.’ She had never shown them to anyone before; only Annie had come close to seeing them. There were times when Rose knew Annie was itching to know what was in her book. She guessed her friend thought it was a diary and didn’t want to pry.

  Kitty gave a high-pitched laugh. ‘Stop worrying, just show them to me.’ Rose closed the door behind her and walked over to Kitty. She noticed her dressing table was littered with make-up, cotton wool and tissues.

  Rose looked around but there was no sign of Annie and she fleetingly wondered where she was.

  ‘Pull up a chair and we can discuss the options.’ Kitty pushed some of the many pots and make-up brushes to one side to make room for the book on her dressing table. She looked around the room. ‘On second thoughts we’ll sit on the chaise longue.’

  Rose nodded and perched on the edge of the sofa. She flipped open the pad, turning several pages before she got to her sketches of Kitty’s wedding dress. ‘I wasn’t sure what you wanted; obviously there is the ballroom style or there is a more slim and slender figure-hugging type of dress. And then there’s everything in between. It just depends on what you would prefer.’

  Kitty sat next to her. ‘Can I please have a look?’

  Rose took in the orange blossom of Kitty’s perfume. She’d noticed before the actress always smelled divine. ‘Of course, I could just leave the sketch pad with you if you’d prefer.’

  Kitty glanced at Rose. ‘Well, if you’re in a hurry I don’t mind looking and taking my time, but I’d rather we look together if that’
s all right with you?’

  Rose smiled at the forthright actress. ‘Of course, it might help if we discussed each one in turn.’ She watched silently as Kitty studied each drawing. Her stomach churned as she waited for a response from the actress.

  Kitty turned each page slowly, stopping and studying each one but not commenting on any of them.

  The rustling of the pages seemed to scream out in the silence. Rose gripped her hands together on her lap; she looked down to see the white of her knuckles peering through the skin. Her mouth was dry; she tried to lick her lips but her tongue stuck fast to the roof of her mouth. She took a deep breath and released her hands, flexing her fingers wide. ‘Of course, if you don’t like any of them I can go back to the drawing board. They are just ideas.’

  Kitty didn’t say a word. She turned the pages backwards and forwards as she studied and compared each of them.

  Rose fiddled with the ends of her hair, twirling it round her fingers. ‘You look like you’re searching for something. Is there something missing that you’d like?’

  Kitty’s eyes widened as she looked across at Rose. ‘You have a real talent. How have you kept it hidden for so long?’

  Rose blushed. ‘I don’t know that I have. You have to remember these are just drawings. I haven’t made any of them yet.’

  Kitty shook her head. ‘No, but you have designed them and they are fabulous.’

  Rose decided to try to stay focused on the wedding dress; she didn’t want to discuss her drawings with anybody. ‘Do you like any of them or do you want me to do something else? Of course you might choose to go and buy one from the shop or get someone else to make you one. I won’t be offended.’

  Kitty put her arms around Rose. ‘Most definitely not. I love these designs. My biggest problem is choosing which one.’

  ‘Well, you don’t have to decide right now but, obviously, we need to allow time for me to make it.’

  Kitty looked back down at the pad. ‘I do like the shape of this one. It’s quite simple but I think I’d like some lace on it.’

  Rose peered down at her drawings. ‘You can have lace or beading or small buttons. I would just have to buy them. Do you want lace sleeves?’