by Carol Rivers
‘I know. I’m just feeling a bit sorry for meself,’ Rose admitted.
‘Your Eddie wouldn’t want you upset. Put it out of your head for now, Rose.’
Rose wanted to make the effort. It was a lovely morning and she didn’t intend to be a misery. ‘Your Alan is shooting up,’ she said, looking at the two solid frames of the young teenagers striding out in front.
‘He’s costing us a fortune in trousers. Our Dave has always worn his brother’s but soon he’ll want his own.’
Rose wondered how long it would be before Donnie asked for new clothes. Girls were more advanced than boys. In a couple of years she wouldn’t appreciate Rose’s hand-sewn garments.
‘They look very smart.’
‘We had a real row over clothes the other day. Alan only favours these horrible new trousers called drainpipes. I told him if he thinks I’m buying that rubbish for him he’s got another think coming. He’ll be wearing those ’orrible crêpe-soled shoes and gaudy ankle socks next. Or one of them long coats with the velvet collars that you see around nowadays.’
Rose nodded. ‘Don’t they call themselves Teddy Boys after King Edward VII, I think it was, who started the fashion?’
‘Yeah and what an idiot he must have looked.’
Rose smiled. ‘Oh, I can’t see Alan as one of them.’
‘Give him half a chance and he’d be standing on the corner combing that damn quiff until it fell off his bloody head.’
‘Boys will be boys.’
‘Tell me about it.’
The market stalls came into sight and Rose gave Donnie and Marlene a few pennies. They ran off and the two boys turned to their mother. ‘We’ll see you later then,’ Alan said, grinning at two pretty girls who gave them the eye as they passed.
‘Make sure you do.’ Anita folded her arms across her chest and threw her sons a frown as they disappeared after the girls. ‘I don’t trust either of them further than I could throw them. The last thing I need is some young piece with a bun in the oven.’
Rose looked shocked. ‘Alan wouldn’t!’
Anita sniffed loudly. ‘Don’t you believe it. They’re randy little sods at their ages. I’ve told Alan to tie a knot in it till he knows how to use it properly.’
‘Oh, your poor Alan.’
Anita saw the funny side. ‘I remember what his father was like. Benny couldn’t keep it in his trousers from the moment we met. Gawd knows how I had the nerve to walk up the aisle in white.’
‘Yes, but you did.’
‘Just about.’ She looked at Rose. ‘What about you?’
‘I wore white on me wedding day in 1945. It was summer and very hot. The war was almost over and we were still alive. Our service was a quiet one with just a few friends and neighbours. Your mum and dad came. You was living with your in-laws in Stepney, remember? You couldn’t come to the service because one of your boys was down with the measles.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Anita nodded. ‘That was David. After which Alan caught it. We had to keep out of circulation for a while.’
Rose smiled reflectively. ‘Em was bridesmaid and Arthur gave me away. Me and Eddie were only seventeen. Donnie was born the following year.’
Anita grinned. ‘You and Eddie made up for lost time, then.’
‘Well, we were mates at school but we never went out or anything.’
‘Didn’t you fancy him?’
‘I never thought about it.’
‘So when did you?’
Rose smiled. ‘After he got back from Normandy. He lied about his age to get into the army. He was only sixteen but said he was seventeen. They needed recruits for the second front and sent him across on D Day. A bullet went through his shoulder as he tried to leave the landing craft.’
‘Blimey love, I ain’t heard him talk about that.’
‘No, he doesn’t much. He still can’t lift his arm above his head.’
‘It must have hurt.’
‘He don’t remember much. He was fished out of the water by a mate. He thought he was going to drown.’
‘But they brought him back in one piece?’
Rose nodded. ‘I went to see him in hospital. The bullet chipped a bone. He was out of the action for six months and in a lot of pain. When he returned to his unit the war was almost over. Our forces were closing in on Berlin. He wrote to ask me if I’d marry him when he got home.’
‘And you said yes.’
‘I knew I loved him and I’d nearly lost him.’
Anita sighed. ‘Well, that’s really romantic.’
‘What about you?’
‘Benny was away in the merchant navy. I didn’t get back from Stepney much to see Mum and Dad. I still feel guilty about it now. But what with the doodlebugs and V2s you took your life in your hands if you only went up the street. Benny never had a scratch on him at the end of the war. He’s a lucky sod.’
‘We were all lucky,’ Rose commented quietly.
‘Where did Em meet Arthur?’ Anita asked after a while.
‘He worked at the town hall in Poplar. The births, marriages and deaths department. He was exempt from the services because of his job. Em met him in the February of ’42. She’d gone to get Mum and Dad’s death certificate and he was very helpful. He asked her out and they got married at Christmas.’
‘Was she up the spout?’
‘No. ’Course not.’
‘Don’t tell me she fell for Arthur’s good looks and outstanding personality, ’cos I won’t believe you.’
Rose hesitated. ‘Well, she was still getting over Mum and Dad being killed. We were alone in the house. I suppose he was there at the right time, a shoulder to lean on.’
They strolled slowly through the crowded market and stood by the fruit and veg stall. ‘So what about you and Eddie? Was it a mad, passionate romance?’
Rose grinned. ‘To tell you the truth, Eddie was a bit shy. Though you’d never believe it now, would you? He never tried anything on. Not till just after he was discharged from hospital.’
‘What happened then?’
‘He had to report back and we went out for a couple of drinks before he left. When we got home the sirens went. We was a bit merry and a bit sad. We went down the Anderson and listened to the bombs coming close. I thought at least if we went we’d go together. Eddie cuddled me and then fell over. I thought we’d been hit.’ Rose laughed softly. ‘There he was, lying flat on the floor.’
‘Well, obviously he wasn’t dead?’
‘No. He’d just had too much to drink. The only time I’ve ever seen him like that. You know he’s not a drinker.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘I got the torch and made sure he was in one piece.’
Anita eyed her carefully. ‘So you had a good look, did you?’
Rose nodded. ‘Yes, I said I did.’
‘No, I mean, did you have a good look?’
The two women burst into laughter. Rose didn’t know if she was laughing because she was happy or sad. Either way it didn’t seem to matter.
‘It’s good to have a laugh,’ Anita said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
‘Yeah.’ Rose sighed reflectively. ‘Poor Eddie.’
Anita spluttered again. ‘I can’t get the picture out of me mind of Eddie flat out and you looking down his trousers.’
‘I didn’t look down his trousers!’
‘I know, but I’ve got a good imagination.’
Suddenly two little girls appeared before them. Donnie stood with a toffee apple in her hand. Marlene was already halfway through hers.
‘Where did you get the toffee apples?’ Rose asked.
‘Mr Silverman bought them for us. Said not to dirty our frocks.’
‘That was nice of him. Did you say thank you?’
Both girls nodded. ‘We saw Mr Parker too but he ignored us.’
‘Mr Parker – Olga’s hubbie?’ Anita was swift to enquire.
‘Yes. He was up that little lane there, by the toilets.’
‘He was talking to a lady. She had one of them shiny coats on. Look, there she is now.’
Rose followed Marlene’s grubby finger. ‘Not that lady?’
Both girls nodded.
Rose met Anita’s stare, then looked back at her daughters. ‘Do you want to have a bit longer to look round?’
‘Yes, please!’ both girls shouted.
‘All right then. Off you go.’
Rose watched them skip away then glanced at Anita.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Anita asked at once.
‘No.’
‘Yes you are.’
‘Well, I’m not going to say it.’
Anita smirked. ‘Well I will then. Leslie Parker ain’t out to buy any veg, at least not the eating variety.’
Rose frowned. ‘He might be doing the shopping.’
‘Blimey, what’s up with your eyesight?’ Anita teased. ‘Didn’t you see that bit of skirt he was chatting up? He wasn’t talking to her about the price of spuds, was he?’
‘It’s easy to draw the wrong conclusion.’
‘All right then. Maybe she’s a Salvationist in disguise. Chucked in her bonnet for a bra.’
Rose sighed. ‘Olga don’t know the half.’
‘The Parkers are square pegs in Ruby Street. Gawd knows why they moved here.’
‘It’s a mystery,’ Rose agreed. ‘I wouldn’t want to be in Olga’s shoes. They don’t have kids to worry about and she always wears nice clothes, but I feel lucky in comparison.’
Anita nodded. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’
‘I just wish Eddie had never sold them that rotten television.’
‘Oh don’t let’s get on that subject again,’ Anita interrupted giving her arm a shake. ‘Come on, I’ll buy you a fried egg roll at Alf’s.’
Despite her friend’s abruptness, Rose knew Anita was salt of the earth and doing everything in her power to cheer her up. ‘But you’re saving for Butlin’s and every penny counts. And anyway, I’m not hungry.’
‘’Course you are. This is on our Benny. He gave me two and six for grub and another five bob for a new bra and stockings. Black ones with seams.’
Rose grinned. ‘You and your stockings.’
‘It’s his hot Argentine roots, he says.’
‘I’ll bet.’ Rose knew Anita and Benny enjoyed themselves when they got the chance. Just like she and Eddie did.
‘Well, it’s better than having your old man fall asleep on the couch every day.’ Anita nudged Rose’s arm and winked. They began to walk across to Alf’s, an old van with a hole cut in the side. The counter was laden with vinegar bottles, salt and pepper pots and the aroma of fried onions, sausages and bacon oozed from the stove at the back.
Rose remembered how Eddie was addicted to Alf’s bacon sandwiches. Once in a while he’d bring them all to market and treat them to whatever snack they wanted. The memory of his smiling face and twinkling eyes as he handed out the grub made her miss him all the more. But she mustn’t get miserable again, not when her friend was trying to cheer her up.
And there were always some worse off. Olga Parker for instance.
‘What do the girls want?’ Anita asked as Alf smacked a greasy tray of sausages on the counter then forked two sizzling bangers into a bap. Rose licked her lips disregarding his dirty fingernails and filthy apron.
‘They’ll share one between them,’ Rose said gratefully. ‘My shout next time. I’m gonna raid the shoebox and treat us all.’
Anita giggled. ‘I’ll look forward to that, girl. Gawd bless that bloody shoebox.’
Rose discovered Eddie’s whereabouts and what a visiting order was the following Wednesday. She had just taken the kids to school and found the envelope waiting for her on the mat. She sat down at the kitchen table to tear it open and read the short letter from Eddie. He said he was in Brixton prison and asked her to visit in a week’s time. She had to bring the permit with her. But what upset her the most was that it didn’t sound like Eddie. Though it was his big, broad handwriting, the few lines seemed so formal.
Rose had thought she couldn’t cry any more. But the letter was a body blow that she was unprepared for. For an hour she sat at the kitchen table, just reading the two pieces of paper over and over again. Then, as if they had been waiting to erupt, huge big sobs climbed up her chest.
After a strong cup of tea she felt better and began to think along more practical lines, for instance, planning her journey to Brixton. The best route would be through the foot tunnel from Island Gardens to Greenwich and then take a bus on the other side of the river. She would visit whilst the kids were at school.
Rose got out her blue Basildon Bond notepad, a present from Em last Christmas, and wrote to Eddie saying they all loved and missed him and confirming she would be there without fail the following Wednesday.
The letter went in the post immediately. When she got home she put on her apron and started the chores. Her mind was full of next Wednesday’s visit. She wanted to see Eddie so much. What would he look like behind bars? Could they touch each other? How much time would they be allowed?
At half past three Rose put her duster away. It was time to collect the children. At least she could tell them she’d had a letter from their father. Then it dawned on her: he was in prison not on holiday at the seaside. By the time Rose arrived at St Mary’s, she was in more of a muddle than ever. Should she tell them where Eddie was? The answer came quickly.
Donnie and Marlene ran towards the school gates. ‘Mummy, Mummy!’
‘What’s wrong? What’s happened?’ Dirty tears had dried on Marlene’s cheeks.
‘I got bashed,’ Marlene whined.
Rose was horrified. ‘Who bashed you?’
‘Michael Curtis.’
Donnie’s voice quavered. ‘Miss Keene wants to see you.’
‘What, now?’
‘Yes.’
Rose got out her hanky and wiped Marlene’s face. ‘Are you cross with me?’ Marlene mumbled, sniffing back her tears.
‘No, why should I be cross with you?’
‘I ain’t done nothing. It was Michael Curtis what said it.’
‘Said what?’
‘That Daddy’s in prison.’ Donnie stared into Rose’s eyes. ‘And he’s not ever coming out.’
‘And he’s got big chains and a ball on his leg,’ Marlene added loudly.
‘Rubbish!’ Rose put her arms round her girls. ‘It’s all right, I’m here now. Come along and I’ll talk to your teacher.’
It was a long walk across the playground. She looked into the other women’s faces. What were they thinking? What had been said behind her back?
‘I’m sorry about Marlene.’ Vivien Keene addressed Rose as she stood in the first years’ classroom of St Mary’s Primary. The prefab section of the school didn’t have much allure but Rose had always liked Miss Keene, a slight, mousey-haired young woman with a genuine interest in her pupils.
‘What happened?’ Rose asked coolly.
Miss Keene turned to the girls. ‘Go and sit on the bench in the corridor, please. I won’t keep Mummy long.’ When they had gone she looked Rose in the eye. ‘Marlene hit a boy today because of something he said in the playground. Unfortunately, he retaliated.’
‘I know what he said but where did he get it from?’ Rose asked angrily.
Miss Keene paused and Rose knew she was choosing her words carefully. ‘There have been comments from the parents, Mrs Weaver, which resulted from the piece in the newspaper. I can only surmise Michael overheard and then embellished.’
‘It’s so unfair,’ Rose burst out. ‘Why couldn’t they say it to my face?’
‘I understand but—’
‘And you teachers . . . what were you doing when this was going on? You should have been there to stop it.’
Vivien Keene smiled sadly. ‘In an ideal world, yes, we should be able to prevent our pupils from being bullied or hurt. But it’s alwa
ys the vulnerable – the children – who suffer. All we can do as teachers is try our best, which often is not good enough, as in Marlene’s case, when a child spoke such cruel words and in all probability, didn’t understand the meaning of them himself.’
Rose was only concerned with her girls. ‘What if it happens again?’ she asked helplessly. ‘What then?’
‘I’ll do everything in my power to see it doesn’t.’
But that wasn’t enough, Rose realized. Miss Keene couldn’t be everywhere at once. And it only needed a few words. ‘Well, you can tell everyone this: the children’s father is in prison, but he isn’t guilty of stealing or any other crime.’
Miss Keene frowned. ‘Are Donnie and Marlene aware of all the facts?’
‘No,’ she had to admit.
‘My advice is to tell them all you know,’ Miss Keene said gently. ‘Then they won’t be so hurt by what the other children might say. In my experience it’s the lesser of two evils.’
‘It’s a bit late now,’ Rose answered abruptly. ‘The harm’s been done. I don’t feel like sending them to school again.’
‘It will be harder if you keep them away,’ the young woman warned in a cool tone. ‘You would always be worried about letting them out of your sight. At least at school there is routine. And most families, you know, have problems of one sort or another. Some children come from very difficult backgrounds. Michael, for instance, is from a family of nine, has no father and his mother is often absent, leaving the grandparents to cope. Your girls are fortunate. They will get through this, I am sure.’
Rose swallowed hard, not trusting herself to speak. Emotion was welling up inside her. It didn’t help to be told they were lucky in comparison to others. She turned and walked out of the classroom. Donnie and Marlene jumped off the bench and ran towards her. She couldn’t wrap them in cotton wool, but from now on she was going to make certain no one hurt them again.
When they got home, she decided, she would tell them everything. Then there could be no more shocks in store.
‘I miss Daddy.’ Donnie was snuggled on her pillow, her big brown eyes staring up at Rose.