by Kitty Neale
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ve come to tender my resignation.’
‘Really?’ Pricilla said. ‘And may I ask why?’
‘There is no longer any reason for me to stay.’
Pricilla shook her head impatiently. The woman wasn’t making any sense, but what did it matter? She was leaving too and wouldn’t have the task of finding a replacement. In truth, she had never liked the woman, finding her too inquisitive about the children, asking to see records that were none of her business. There was another knock on her door, and heaving a sigh of exasperation she called, ‘Come in.’
‘Oh, Miss Unsworth, can you come quickly?’ the harassed teacher begged. ‘A serious fight has broken out in the playground and I can’t break it up.’
Pricilla tutted with impatience. ‘I can’t deal with it now.’
‘But, Miss Unsworth, it’s the older girls and I can’t get through them to the poor child they’re picking on. She’s on the ground and looks to be in a dreadful state.’
Pricilla rose hastily to her feet. ‘I’ll have to sort this out,’ she told Miss Rosen.
The woman nodded, saying quietly, ‘Very well.’
Pricilla hurried from her office, but had she looked back, she would have seen the art teacher surveying the file she’d mistakenly left on her desk. Emily Rosen reached to pick it up, flicking it open. As she scanned the contents, a gasp escaped her lips. Her face lit up with joy and for a moment she hugged the file to her chest. Then, carefully replacing it in the exact position she had found it, Emily Rosen scurried out.
In Battersea, Pearl was looking at her sketches. Of all of them, the drawing of Derek stood out as best. His kind eyes looked incongruous against his craggy features, but Pearl thought she had captured the essence of the man. She picked up the sketch of Nora and frowned. She didn’t see much of the cleaner, and the sketch was one she wasn’t happy with. Nora had a round face that was somehow featureless, making it difficult to capture on paper. There was something missing, and as she tried to picture the woman in her mind, she realised it was Nora’s childlike innocence. Placing Nora’s picture to one side, Pearl lifted one of her favourites, a sketch of Frank Hanwell’s son.
She had seen the lad a couple of times hanging around his dad’s stall and was taken by the eight-year-old’s features. He had dark, unruly hair, a tiny nose sprinkled with freckles, but it was his cheeky, gap-toothed smile that Pearl had wanted to capture. She gazed critically at the sketch. It wasn’t perfect, and without paint she had been unable to capture the boy’s wonderful emerald-green eyes.
Placing the drawing back inside the folder, her thoughts returned to Derek Lewis. He’d looked disappointed when she told him they could only be friends, but had still invited her to meet his gran. Thinking of that, her eyes widened. He’d be here soon and she wasn’t ready!
As she dashed around, Pearl knew why she had agreed to go to Derek’s house. She was curious – curious to see what a normal home looked like. All she had known was the orphanage and then the hostel, family life a mystery to her. She’d heard talk, of course. When girls came back to the orphanage after being fostered for a while, they spoke of the families they had stayed with and she had listened to their stories with avid interest. Of course, not all of the tales were good ones, and some were horrible. One girl of thirteen had been used as a servant, forced to do housework from early morning to night, and had slept in a small, cold room under the eaves of the house.
When she heard a knock on the street door, Pearl shook her thoughts away as she hurried downstairs. The orphanage held mostly bad memories, ones she wanted to forget.
‘Hello, love,’ Derek said. ‘I’ve told Gran I’m bringing you round and she’s looking forward to it.’
‘Is she?’ Pearl found she was suddenly nervous and as they walked along the High Street she clung to Derek’s arm. He looked down at her, smiling with pleasure and she managed a small smile back. Oh, he was a nice man. Would his gran be the same?
It didn’t take them long to reach Derek’s house. As they walked in Connie Lewis stepped forward.
‘Hello, ducks, nice to meet you,’ she said, leading them into a small room at the front.
‘It’s nice to meet you too,’ Pearl said, smiling shyly. Derek’s gran was a surprise. She was a tiny, thin woman with sharp features, but like Derek, her eyes were kind.
‘Take a seat, love,’ she invited.
‘Thank you,’ Pearl said, doing so.
‘Derek tells me you’re an orphan.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘How old were you when you were put in the orphanage?’
‘From what I’ve been told, I was a new-born baby and left on the steps.’
‘Oh, that’s awful. Your mother must have been desperate to do that.’
Pearl looked down at the threadbare rug under her feet. Yes, her mother must have been desperate, perhaps unmarried, but Pearl would never know the answers. Over the years she had thought about her. Did they look alike? She had read a novel once in which a servant had been taken by the master and then thrown on to the streets. Was that what had happened to her mother? Scenario after scenario filled her mind. Had her mother been ill – too ill to look after her – and, as she had never come back to claim her, had she died?
‘I’m sorry, love. Me and my big mouth, and now I’ve upset you,’ Connie cried.
‘No, please, I’m all right.’
‘I’ll go and make us all a cup of tea,’ she said, bustling from the room.
‘Sorry about that, Pearl. My gran does have a tendency to put her foot in it, but she doesn’t mean any harm.’
‘It’s all right. There’s no need to apologise.’
Pearl gazed around the room with interest. There was a three-piece suite, and she was sitting on one of the rather lumpy chairs. Under the window she saw a highly polished sideboard, with a lace runner across the top on which sat a few china ornaments. The fireplace was small, and covering the grate there was a little painted paper screen in the shape of a fan. There was a carved fender, and in one alcove a small table on which sat a rather ugly plant. Even with so little furniture the room was crowded, and there was the faint scent of lavender in the air. Pearl found it cosy and wondered what the rest of the house was like.
‘Here we are,’ Connie said as she came back into the room.
Derek took the rather laden tray from her, admonishing, ‘You should have called me, Gran. This weighs a ton.’
Pearl saw pretty china cups and saucers, a teapot, and a plate piled with slices of cherry cake. Connie moved the plant from the small table, and as Derek laid the tray down she bustled out again, calling, ‘I’ll just get the milk and sugar.’
Derek grinned. ‘To tell you the truth, Pearl, we hardly use this room. We live and eat in the kitchen.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have minded the kitchen.’
‘Well, tell Gran that.’
‘Tell me what?’ Connie asked as she came back into the room.
‘That Pearl would’ve been happy to sit in the kitchen.’
‘Blimey, and there’s me trying to make an impression. Well, we’re in here now, and here we’ll stay. Do you take milk and sugar, love?’
‘Yes, please.’
Connie handed her a cup of tea, followed by a plate with a slice of cake on it. Pearl floundered; with both hands full she couldn’t drink her tea or eat the cake. Maybe she could balance one on her lap?
Connie followed the same procedure with Derek, but instead of consternation, he roared with laughter. ‘I’ve only got two hands, Gran. Am I supposed to eat the cake with me toes?’
Connie laughed too, her eyes bright as she looked at Pearl. ‘As you can see, we ain’t used to airs and graces. All right, I give in, let’s go to the kitchen and at least we can sit around the table.’
‘Thank Gawd for that,’ Derek said.
Pearl stood up and followed Connie through to the kitchen, Derek behind them with the tray. The
room was larger with a well-scrubbed table in the centre.
‘Sit down, love,’ the old lady said.
From then on it was more relaxed, the ice broken, and soon Connie was asking Pearl questions again, this time about her job in the café, and Dolly Dolby.
‘I hear the woman’s a bit of a battle-axe. Is that right?’
‘She isn’t too bad. Well, unless she’s in a bad mood.’
‘And that’s every other day,’ Derek said with a chuckle.
‘Derek tells me you live in a bedsit.’
‘Yes, I’m renting it from Nobby Clark.’
‘Is he that tyke you used to knock around with, Derek?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one.’
‘Huh, he’s nothing but trouble. When he was left the shop he could have done all right, but from what I heard he got hooked on gambling. It’s a mug’s game and the shop went under, all the profits going to the bookies. All right, he was only nineteen at the time, but that’s no excuse. You were running the stall on your own, and you’ve done well. What’s Nobby up to these days?’
‘Nothing honest, that’s for sure.’
Pearl thought about the cartons of cigarettes she had seen, wondering if she should mention them, but then Derek stood up.
‘I’m just going out back for a Jimmy Riddle.’
‘A what?’
‘You explain, Gran.’
‘Jimmy Riddle – piddle, its cockney rhyming slang. He’s gone to the outside toilet,’ Connie said, and as the door closed behind him she leaned forward, her eyes now hardening. ‘How old are you, Pearl?
‘I’m sixteen, nearly seventeen.’
‘Christ, you’re just a kid. Look, I know you’ve become friends with my Derek, but I don’t want him hurt. He likes you, I can tell, but you’re a bit young for him.’
‘We … we’re not courting. We’re just friends.’
‘That’s as maybe, but I still think he’s looking for more than that. I don’t want to cross-examine you, but I can’t see why you’ve latched on to Derek. Surely you’d prefer friends, girls of your own age?’
‘I don’t know any girls, and those that come into the café seem to be a bit stand-offish.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s probably because you talk like you’ve got a plum in your mouth. You stand out as different, an outsider, and they’re bound to be suspicious.’ Connie leaned back and sighed heavily. ‘All right, I’ll say no more, but if you don’t want things to go any further with Derek, it might be better if you stop seeing him.’
‘Gran!’
Connie’s head shot round. ‘Derek, I didn’t know you were there.’
‘That’s pretty obvious. Now what’s going on? I only heard the tail end of what you were saying, but why are you telling Pearl to stop seeing me?’
Connie hung her head. ‘I don’t want you hurt.’
‘Gran, I’m a grown man. I like Pearl, and she likes me, but I know she’s only looking for friendship. Now if you don’t mind, I think you should keep your nose out. Come on, Pearl, I’ll take you home.’
‘Oh, please, don’t fall out over me.’
‘It’s all right, dear. Derek’s right and I had no business interfering.’ Connie stood up, going to her grandson’s side and laying a hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry. Pearl’s a nice girl, and I like her. I was just trying to protect you, that’s all.’
Derek’s face softened as he looked down at the tiny woman. ‘Do I look like I need protection? Now come on, let’s start again, and how about cutting me another slice of cake?’
Pearl heaved a sigh of relief. Seeing the loving look that Connie Lewis was giving her grandson, she felt a twinge of envy. It must be wonderful to have someone to love you like that, unconditionally. Maybe she could think of Derek as more than a friend – maybe she could become part of this small family. She would have a home, Derek would always be there to look out for her, and she would never have to be afraid again. Yet even as she considered it, Kevin Dolby’s face flew into her mind. Stop it, stop dreaming, she berated herself.
Chapter Ten
Nobby Clark threw open the door of the empty bedsit with a flourish. ‘There you are, and it’s a guinea a week rent.’
The balding, flabby man looked around before testing the bed. ‘Yes, it’s all right. Is there a bathroom?’
‘There’s one further along the landing.’
‘How many tenants will I have to share it with?’
‘Only one. A young woman lives on the floor below, but she’s a nice quiet girl.’
‘What about my car? With the market set up every day, I can’t see anywhere to park outside.’
‘This is one of the few premises with a side entrance. You can drive round the back and park in the yard, but don’t come in through my shop. There’s another door that leads into the downstairs hall. You can use that.’
‘Right, I’ll take it and I’ll pay a month’s rent in advance.’
Nobby grinned, pleased to have a bit of extra money coming in. They were still planning the next job and things were a bit tight. ‘What do you do for a living?’
‘I work in insurance.’
‘And what’s your name?’
‘Trevor – Trevor Bardington.’
There was something about this bloke that gave Nobby the creeps, but with a month’s rent in his pocket he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d put a bet on, one that was heavily tipped, and maybe the bad luck that dogged him would change. Yeah, perhaps he’d be on to a big winner.
‘Thanks,’ the man said as Nobby handed him a rent book and keys. ‘I’ll pick up my things and be back later.’
As both men left the room to go downstairs, Pearl Button was on her way up. They waited until she reached the landing, Nobby saying, ‘Hello, Pearl, you’re just in time to meet Mr Bardington. He’s moving in to the room above yours.’
‘Hello,’ she said shyly.
The man nodded, saying nothing and, once again thinking he was a strange one, Nobby led him down to the street door, showing him out before going through to his shop.
It wasn’t long before Kevin Dolby and Dick Smedley turned up, looking furtively behind them as they walked in.
‘Are we nearly set to do the job?’ Nobby asked.
Dick answered, ‘I’ve seen a van and have been watching the driver’s movements for several days. He parks it up in the same spot every night, and as he’s got a ladder stashed on the top it solves another problem. I doubt he’ll notice the van’s gone until the following morning, so we’ll have done the job and dumped it before it’s reported missing.’
‘Sounds good,’ Kevin said. ‘And is it the usual buyer, Nobby?’
‘Of course it is. I daren’t offer it to anyone else – you know that. Anything that isn’t small time is always fenced through Vince.’
‘He must be raking it in.’
‘Yeah, but he ain’t one to cross. He’s got the borough sewn up, and if we offered it to anyone else his boys would turn us into mincemeat. I don’t fancy storing the booze overnight, so we’re to take it straight to his club. He’s gonna wait for us, and after unloading we can get rid of the van. Now it’s just a matter of deciding when we hit the warehouse.’
Dick pursed his lips. ‘I reckon tomorrow night. They get a delivery today, and nothing gets sent out again until Monday morning.’
‘That’s fine with me. What about you, Kevin?’
‘Yeah, I’m in.’
The three men went over the plans again. When they were satisfied, Kevin rose to his feet. ‘Right, how do you fancy a drink before we go to see the match?’
‘Good idea.’
Kevin felt a thrill of anticipation as they left the shop. After the job he’d be able to take a trip to Soho, and if the haul was a big one more trips would follow.
Pearl was pleased that another tenant was moving in, but had hoped it would be someone young, ideally a girl she could make friends with.
Mr Bardington looked to be i
n his forties. He was a big man, overweight, with a grey unhealthy appearance, and cold blue eyes. She had looked forward to having someone else in the house, especially at night, but wasn’t sure she liked the look of the older man.
Her bedsit was like an oven, stuffy, and even with the window open it felt airless. She wiped a hand across her brow as she perched on her bed. It was the third week in August, and with art classes starting soon, she wanted to check her savings.
She’d been frugal, and with any luck there would be enough to buy paint and brushes. She checked her tips, a frown creasing her forehead. With fewer tables to work, her tips had gone down, but surely not this much.
Mentally Pearl assessed the day. She had regulars who sat at her tables, and most tipped her once a week. Frank Hanwell always left her three-pence on a Saturday, along with the other costermongers who sat with him. Derek too was generous and he mostly left her sixpence.
An awful suspicion began to fill her mind, one she wanted to dismiss but couldn’t. It was over three weeks since Alice had started work in the café, and despite her earlier trepidations, they were getting on well together. She’d assured Alice that she could manage, but the woman still thought nothing of clearing Pearl’s tables along with her own, and also took over behind the counter to give Bernie a break.
Alice seemed to have boundless energy, and though the weather was blazing hot, she was rarely still. Yes, Alice cleared her tables for her, but what about the tips she found? Was she putting them in her own pocket?
Pearl stood up and moved across to the window. Oh, surely she was imagining things. It was wrong to be suspicious, yet it had happened so many times at the orphanage. They had little, but still had to guard their tiny treasures from thieving hands. Pearl remembered a ribbon she’d been given by a departing teacher. It had been pink and she’d treasured it, but one day it had gone. She had never found out who took it, but suspected an older girl, a bully whom she’d never had the courage to confront.
Now there was Alice, and if the woman was stealing her tips, what could she do? She daren’t accuse her – Alice would go mad – but was there another way? Derek!