by Carol Rivers
‘A week, in that old crate of yours. It’s all up north.’
‘Don’t knock my lorry,’ Ben grinned. ‘It’s done you a good turn in the past. How much is on the line?’
‘Ten readies. Five up front, five on your return.’
It was a nice offer but Ben shook his head. ‘Ten readies now and ten when I come back.’
Johnny Sweet let out a groan. ‘My friend, you drive a hard bargain.’
‘Seven days on the road with no prior booking comes at a price.’
‘All right, you’re on. Here, I’ve drawn you a map, and written the names and places on the back.’
Ben took the crumpled paper and laughed. ‘Is this Chinese?’
‘I was in a rush. Now, what did we agree on the figures?’
Ben grinned. ‘Ten smackers in my palm right this minute or you’re gone.’
Reluctantly the visitor reached inside his coat. He brought out a wad of notes.
Ben pushed the money in his pocket. ‘What’s the stuff I’m carrying?’
‘Peanuts.’
‘And I’m a monkey’s uncle.’
‘I told you, this is straight up, my son. Now go to Pointer’s warehouse. Two of my men are waiting to help you load if you’re there within the hour.’
They arranged a further meeting and Ben closed the front door. He washed, resisted a shave, stoked the range and prepared a plate of bread and dripping. Quietly he returned to the bedroom. Pulling on old clothes, a thick jumper, heavy trousers and boots, he made certain he was prepared for all weathers.
‘Wake up, lazy bones,’ he whispered in his snoring brother’s ear. ‘You’re late for market.’
Reube yawned as he lowered his feet to the floor. ‘Where are you off to in that getup?’
‘I’m on a job for Sweetsy. It’ll take about a week.’
Reube shrugged and began to dress. ‘So where did you disappear to all day yesterday?’
‘Come on downstairs and I’ll tell you.’
‘What’s all the rush? I thought you was dying of a broken heart?’ Reube grunted as they made their way to the kitchen.
‘The ten nicker I’ve just earned has helped cure it.’
‘Ten nicker?’
‘And ten more to follow.’
‘Blimey, that’s tasty.’
The two men ate silently together until finally Reube asked, ‘So what did happen yesterday, then?’
‘Me and Lil walked to Island Gardens.’
‘And?’
‘And no surprises for guessing what happened.’
Reube scratched his head. ‘Go on then, enlighten me.’
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘What could I say to her? An apology was in order, I think.’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong, except kiss her.’
‘I had a lot more than that in mind.’
Reube pasted another slice of bread with dripping. ‘So what’s gonna happen now?’
‘Nothin’ as far as I know. I’m a free man, and I’m gonna enjoy me liberty.’
‘So there ain’t no hard feelings?’
‘None at all.’
‘Well, you’re a better man than me, ’cos I’d be really choked if Hattie ditched me.’
‘Lil didn’t ditch me. It just never got started.’
Reube sat back in his chair and shook his head. ‘If you say so, bruv.’ He smiled as he drank his tea. ‘Well, today I don’t need to inform Lil that me brother’s about to jump off London Bridge then?’
Ben laughed and waved the joke aside. ‘You can tell her that I went off to work with a big smile on me face.’
‘I’ll do just that.’
‘You finished your rosie?’
‘Yeah. I’m gonna pay me dues to the khazi.’
Ben stood up. ‘Tell Mum I’ll see her in a week’s time.’ He smiled as his brother left the kitchen. When the back door closed and Reube disappeared into the washhouse, he let out a long, relieved sigh. At least he had recovered a little pride. A week away from Love Lane was just what he needed to let the dust settle.
Ben took the two remaining slices of bread and wrapped them in newspaper; they’d make a nice bite on the journey.
Outside he was relieved to find a cold, bright Monday dawning. He liked driving through the countryside early and seeing all the villages along the way.
As he hopped over the wall of the Quarry public house where he stationed his vehicles, he looked forward to smelling the pigs and cows and country air. With his window down and his consignment safely on the back, seven days would be a doddle.
This job would give him a chance to make plans. He was going to turn his business into a real cracker. Though he might not talk with a cut glass accent he intended to show the island what he was made of.
An hour later, with the help of Sweetsy’s two men, Ben was on his way, without any lifting bridges to delay him.
As he drove, he was relieved for once, to leave the city well and truly behind him.
All week Lily listened to the depressing news of the growing unemployment. There were riots and demonstrations throughout the East End. Though her father kept saying how lucky he was to be at the timber yard, she knew he felt guilty. Even though he came home each day with bleeding hands and an aching back from carry all the rough timber, he was envied by his old mates. They still stood on the stones all day, with no prospect of work in sight.
The newspapers said that the latest figure was one and a half million out of work, with no indication of it decreasing and most men on the island were now fighting each other for the few jobs there were.
‘Since they come into power nine months ago, Labour have made a right pig’s ear of the country,’ Uncle Noah complained as they ate supper on Friday night.
‘Between them and that Oswald Mosley promising us wealth through borrowing, they want their brains tested,’ agreed Bob Bright. ‘Stands to reason if you take from Peter, you gotta give it back to Paul. Those Blackshirts would get us in a worse muddle than Labour if they got in.’
‘They won’t, will they?’ asked Lily.
‘Mosley wants to form what he calls a New Party. It’s sure to attract some attention.’
‘Only from the cranks, surely?’ said her mother.
Lily suddenly remembered that Charles had mentioned a New Party on the day he saved her from the Blackshirt. He had threatened to expose the group to their leader. Did Charles know about all this then?
‘I dunno,’ said her dad worriedly. ‘There’s a feeling of unrest everywhere and you can’t blame the blokes when they have a go.’
‘I wish the fighting would stop,’ said Lily, putting down her knife and fork.
Everyone looked at her. ‘We’re fighting for our rights,’ pointed out her father. ‘We have to, or we’ll be trodden over.’
‘But isn’t that how wars start?’ Lily was upset. Was it because she was growing older that she felt this way? Once, her dad’s word was law. But now she was beginning to think other kinds of thoughts. Why couldn’t people resolve problems through talking and not hurting each other?
‘Wars are going on all the time, Lil. I heard the coppers arrested four of the blokes I used to work with,’ her father continued, coughing and hitting his chest as he became angry. ‘Blokes just the same as me, who would do anything for a crust, and were willing to wait in the cold and wet every day, from dawn to nightfall. Them buggers carted ’em off by the scruff of their necks, just ’cos they waved a few placards. No wonder there’s anarchy and wars start.’
Lily could see her dad was upset. He was getting very angry as all the men seemed to be lately. Reube had been on edge all week, walking over to Ted and Samuel, waving the stick as though he wanted to use it again. Even the women were on the lookout for trouble, egging their men on.
‘I met Flo Parks yesterday,’ said Josie, turning to look at Lily. ‘She asked how you were, as Hattie hadn’t met up with you last Sunday.’
‘I hope you told her I was well.’ Lily wasn’
t going to say that she had fallen out with Hattie. She didn’t want to add to the depressing atmosphere at the table.
‘Yes, I did. Flo said that Hattie didn’t say much about the party. I would have thought you two girls would have wanted to chat about it.’
Lily shrugged. ‘We will when we’ve got time.’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s it. Your lives are very full.’
Lily didn’t reply but stood up to collect the plates.
‘Now, I’ve made a nice bowl of semolina,’ Josie said as she smiled at the two men. ‘And I’ve got half a teaspoon of jam for the top. That’ll be nice, won’t it?’
Lily knew her mother was trying to change the men’s topic of conversation, but as Lily placed the pudding bowls on the draining board, she heard her father speaking angrily again. Her heart began to sink. The strikes, unemployment and riots were discussed fervently in every household lately. Trouble, unrest and bitterness was on everyone’s tongue.
Lily wished that she and Hattie were speaking. Their long and enduring friendship seemed to be threatened too.
Suddenly she knew what to do. On Sunday she would call for Hattie. Her thoughts had all been centred on Charles, and her attention had slipped from her best friend. Their small fight was turning into a war and after all she had learned from her elders, Lily was determined to put right her own world.
Late on Sunday morning Lily put on her coat and hat. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Hattie, but she would think of something.
It was a dull grey day and Lily stood on the pavement uncertainly, waiting for inspiration. But then the door of Hattie’s house opened. Her friend was pulling on her coat. It was the first time they had met since the party.
‘Morning, Hat,’ Lily said brightly.
‘Oh, it’s you.’
As much as Lily wanted to repair the damage she felt that Hattie had said some hurtful things. Did she still feel the same? ‘Are you going out?’
‘Me dad wants a paper. There’s a seller by the Queen sometimes. Don’t know if he’s still there.’
‘Can I walk with you?’
‘If you like.’
Hattie was wearing a soft grey coat and gloves with a little grey scarf tied around the collar. Her hair, as usual, was shaped around her head into two kiss-curls.
‘I wondered if you was coming round this afternoon?’ said Lily as she pulled her old coat closer and wished that she looked as smart as Hattie did. Even with the money coming in to the house since her dad had started work, there hadn’t been enough left over to buy anything from Vera Froud.
‘No, I’m a bit busy.’
‘What with?’
‘This and that.’
Lily tried to ignore her friend’s tone and the fact that Hattie was making it obvious she had not intended to see Lily.
‘Well, at least we can have a chat whilst we walk.’
Hattie merely shrugged, quickening her step.
Lily kept up with her. ‘Hattie, I’ve missed seeing you. It don’t seem the same any more.’
‘You don’t want to see the likes of me.’
‘I wish you’d stop saying that.’
‘It’s true, isn’t it?’
‘No, course not. Look, can’t we forget what happened at the party? We both said things we didn’t mean.’
Hattie stopped still. ‘You mean what you said about Ben—’
Lily shook her head. ‘No, I meant that. It was all a bit of a misunderstanding and Ben and me are friends again. We went for a walk and talked things over.’
‘So you’re just friends?’
Lily nodded. ‘Good friends, Hat. Like you and me. He understands that now.’
Hattie stared at her, her eyes narrowing. She began to walk again. ‘Well, that’s Ben for you. I suppose he’s not one to show his feelings.’
They walked on in silence, heads down against the wind. When they arrived at the Queen public house on the junction of East Ferry Road and Manchester Road, they stopped. Hattie sighed. ‘Me dad’s out of luck. The newspaper seller’s gone.’
‘Why don’t we walk to the foot tunnel? It’s only a short way. There might be one there.’
‘All right.
Lily was beginning to wonder what she could say to Hattie to break the ice. As they walked by the river, a small boat chugged by, leaving its wake on the surface. The factories and warehouses were closed, but the kids were still larking about in the mud, searching for wood and coal that had spilled from the boats. A strong, tarry essence blew off the water. A ship’s hooter sounded and in reply came the bark of a dog.
Lily and Hattie both spoke at once. ‘You first,’ smiled Lily.
‘I was only going to say I was sorry about having a go at you. It was your birthday after all.’
‘And I’m sorry too.’
Hattie frowned. ‘It’s always been you and Ben, you see. We just took it for granted you would go on like that.’
‘We’ll all go on being friends I hope.’
Hattie looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps he’ll find a nice girl.’
‘He deserves one.’
‘There was that girl who was always knocking on his door, with dark hair and a good figure. She was really keen on him. And there are plenty of girls he knows from the Dockland Settlement. They all like him. Perhaps now he’ll ask one of them out.’
Lily smiled. Hattie hadn’t given up trying to make her jealous. ‘I don’t want us to fall out again, Hat.’
‘Neither do I.’ Hattie shuffled her feet. ‘I’m fed up with staying in on Sunday afternoons.’
They both laughed. ‘Well, you’d better tell me all the news about your new love,’ Hattie said after a while.
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Lily said quietly. ‘I haven’t seen him although Pedro did say he called by the stall on me birthday.’
‘But he didn’t show up last week?’
Lily shook her head. ‘No.’
Hattie immediately linked her arm through Lily’s. ‘Never mind, you’ve got us.’
‘Yes,’ nodded Lily, aware of Hattie’s sudden change in mood. She was all smiles now.
‘I don’t want to break up with you, Lil. Like I wrote in me card, you’re my best friend.’
‘Yes, it’s all worked out for the best.’ Lily felt a big ache in her chest, as she felt herself being led along by Hattie. She knew that Hattie was pleased Charles hadn’t turned up. She couldn’t know how it felt to have a heartache like this, as though someone was turning a knife inside you.
But at least they were on good terms again and had patched up their differences. She wasn’t going to think about what Hattie had said at the party about her having high faluting ideas and that Charles only wanted one thing from her and she was too daft to see it. The home truths had hurt at the time, but bringing it all up now wouldn’t serve a purpose. It was better to forgive and forget.
‘I’ve a couple of nice patterns I brought back from work, a dress with a V-shaped neckline with a skirt made from three panels. The other is a really beautiful long dress, just right for a tea dance,’ Hattie said eagerly. ‘Do you want to come up to me bedroom and see?’
‘That would be nice.’
‘Come on then, let’s go home.’
Lily listened to Hattie as they walked. She told her about the fittings that had taken place for the aristocratic young bride. And how everything was even more hush-hush than it was before as they tried to camouflage the weight she was rapidly putting on. Hattie thought it was hilarious and laughed as she was telling the story of the young girl as she was made to suffer the indignity of Madame Nerys’ obvious disapproval when she had to let out the waistline even more than she’d planned. But Lily could only feel sympathy for the poor girl, even though she had wealth and status on her side.
‘And I ain’t told you about me ring either,’ said Hattie excitedly.
‘The sapphire and diamond one in the shop at Aldgate?’
‘Yes. Reube’s going to buy it for
me.’ Hattie did a little flounce, throwing back her head. ‘Ben’s gonna drive us up there. Why don’t you come to. And then we can make a day of it.’
Lily guessed that Hattie was still trying to matchmake. She still hadn’t given up hope. ‘There’ll be no one to mind the stall,’ Lily pointed out.
‘Pedro can stand in,’ Hattie shrugged, a twinkle in her eye. ‘I’ll get Reube to ask him.’
As they walked down Love Lane Lily began to wonder if the price of Hattie’s friendship was too high. Would she ever give up trying to get her and Ben together?
Chapter Eleven
At Easter, the market reflected the country’s Depression and even the barrows and fruit stalls were suffering. Lily knew her father had been very lucky to get the timber job. Even the skin ships were now few and far between and the dockyards were in a state of deep gloom. Lily feared that the Blackshirts would seize the opportunity to return to places like Cox Street but that would be a mistake as the traders dislike for the peddlers of fascism was even more intense. They had all paid more attention to the news after the last visit and everyone knew that Mosley, their leader, was insisting the country go deeper into debt by borrowing from abroad. To the ordinary man’s thinking this was a fanatic’s theory, and would make things even worse than they were.
No one wanted that.
In her quieter moments Lily wondered what Charles would have said about all this. He seemed to have influence over that Blackshirt, his quiet words having more effect than any weapon. She felt that although he was an outsider to the island, he might have been able to help in some way. She didn’t know how, of course. And now it was weeks since she had seen him last. His face was becoming a distant memory, as though she had dreamed it all.
One Saturday morning in May, Lily was alone at the stall whilst Reube went off for stock. They were getting very low on good items, whilst the junk was multiplying. Yesterday, in desperation, Reube had visited the Caledonian Market. When he’d returned with only one broken clock, a box of bed knobs, a few screws, nuts, bolts, two sets of false teeth and a large reel of bell wire, Lily had been disappointed.
‘I know ironmongery ain’t our line, Lil,’ Reube had said when he saw her expression, ‘but the bloke I bought it all from was at his wits’ end. He had this placard round his neck. It said: “I know two trades and speak two languages. I have six children and haven’t worked for six months. But I only ask for one job.” ’ Reube had shaken his head as he repeated these words, his voice thick with emotion. ‘So I gave him five bob for the lot.’