East End Jubilee

by Carol Rivers

  Rose found herself in West Ferry Road and directly in front of her rose the sturdy spire of Christ Church, one of the few churches on the island to survive the Blitz.

  Below it, the green branches of a very tall tree waved gently over the buildings below. Set either side of the wide, cobbled road the streetlights formed a picturesque arch. How many times had she walked up this road with her parents and Em to Sunday morning service?

  Rose’s heart beat fast as she thought of the future now wrapped in a golden glow in her mind like a fairy story. The sun broke the downy haze and splashed hotly on her face. She breathed in its health-giving rays and felt its power travel all the way down to her baby. She realized her happiness must have shown because passers by paused and smiled and even commented on how wonderful the summer was. The world was a beautiful, radiant place and Rose felt like singing her news aloud. But she turned then, eager to be home and to share her wonderful news with Em.

  There was a stranger standing on the step of number forty-six as Rose entered Ruby Street. For a moment she held her breath for she didn’t recognize the figure and she didn’t want anyone or anything to spoil this wonderful day.

  But as she grew closer, she exhaled with relief. The stranger was none other than Bobby Morton carrying what looked like a large cardboard box.

  ‘Hello Mrs Weaver,’ he said in rather an abashed tone as she approached. ‘I’ve just this minute called by.’

  Rose smiled, glancing at Em, who looked like a frightened rabbit about to scuttle away to its hole. Her turban was askew, a few wisps of fair hair straggling out to curl round her chin. Rose banished a swift but unfair urge of irritation as her sister peeped out from the almost closed door.

  ‘Hello Bob – Mr Morton,’ she corrected herself, glancing quickly at her sister. ‘I’m . . . er, surprised to see you back in this neighbourhood again.’

  ‘Rosy – you’ve been ages!’ Em interrupted angrily. ‘I’ve been so worried about you.’

  Rose shrugged. ‘It’s such a lovely day I didn’t rush home.’

  Bobby Morton nodded vigorously. ‘It’s summer at last. Very nice indeed.’

  Rose realized the young man was embarrassed, his condition worsened by her sister’s unfriendly attitude. Rose smiled at him. ‘Don’t tell me you want to polish me step again?’

  He blushed under his fair hair which was now slightly longer and rather more untidy than Rose remembered it. ‘I sold a vacuum cleaner to number eighty-seven and I’ve just delivered it. This is the box.’ He rattled whatever was left inside.

  ‘You sold a vacuum cleaner to the Dixons?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘Yes, they came in my shop last week.’

  She was impressed. ‘Well, you finally got your lead then.’

  ‘Oh indeed. I gave them a demonstration and they bought an Imp Mark One. A very nice little cleaner that will make all the difference to their lifestyle. Mrs Dixon has a lot of difficulty bending with her arthritis, you know.’

  Rose wanted to laugh, but didn’t. ‘Well, congratulations. But that box looks a bit heavy?’

  ‘More awkward than anything. Next week I’m going to buy myself a small van.’

  ‘Business must be booming,’ Rose teased.

  ‘Not really. But I must provide an efficient delivery service. However, back to the reason for my call. I must apologize. I told the Dixons that I knew you.’

  Rose raised her eyebrows. ‘Did you, now?’

  ‘People are less suspicious if someone can vouch for them,’ he said apologetically. ‘And the only person I’d met on my travels was you. I said we had a very interesting talk on the merits of washing machines.’

  Rose looked stern. ‘What if I’d told them you were a rogue?’

  He jumped. ‘But I’m not!’

  ‘No, you’re not, you’re a very nice young man,’ Rose agreed truthfully, which drew a frown of reproach from her sister.

  ‘That’s all right then,’ he sighed and glanced at Em. ‘I’m very sorry to have disturbed you.’

  Her sister’s response was no more than a blink and a twitch and Rose felt another wave of irritation. Couldn’t Em be a little less hostile? Rose decided she should formally introduce the two.

  ‘Bobby Morton, this is my sister, Emily. Em, this is the young man I was telling you about who’s taken over the shop in Amethyst Way.’

  ‘Very pleased to meet you.’ Bobby Morton put down the box and offered his hand but he could almost have been pointing a revolver, Rose thought in alarm, as Em gave a visible start. She gave one of her nervous little twitches and stepped back into the house. ‘You must er . . . excuse me, I . . . I’ve got the tea on.’ The tiny, turbaned figure disappeared. Rose was embarrassed as they stood there. She didn’t know how to excuse her sister’s rude behaviour.

  ‘Oh dear,’ he sighed as they looked at one another. ‘I was in two minds whether to tap or not but I didn’t want you to think I’d taken advantage of our first meeting if the Dixons spoke to you. I wish I hadn’t now. I think I must have upset your sister.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s not you,’ Rose apologized as she pulled the door to so that they couldn’t be overheard. ‘Em’s had – we’ve had – a difficult time lately. Amongst other things, we’ve been burgled and you’re a little more cautious about who you open the door to after that.’

  ‘Burgled!’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. My sister arrived on the day it happened. Naturally, we are still a bit jumpy.’

  ‘Did they catch the culprits?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘No chance, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Your husband must be very angry,’ he said with emphasis.

  Rose looked into his shocked face. ‘Didn’t the Dixons tell you when you mentioned me?’

  He stared at her blankly. ‘Tell me what?’

  Rose hesitated, but she felt sure she could trust this young man. ‘Well, you’ll probably hear about it sooner or later. Eddie, my husband, was arrested for selling a stolen television to one of our neighbours. He’s innocent, of course, and somehow we intend to prove it.’

  He blinked his fair lashes. ‘No wonder you didn’t want to know about televisions!’

  She smiled. ‘That’s not to say I can’t see the logic in all your labour-saving devices. Believe me, I was only thinking the other day that if I had the money I’d buy a washing machine. We could do with it with three kids.’

  ‘Three? Didn’t you say you had two?’

  ‘My sister has a son of ten.’ Rose added quickly, ‘She’s recently widowed. That’s why she’s staying with us for a bit.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ he commiserated, ‘you have been in the wars.’

  Rose smiled. ‘Yes, just a bit.’

  His blue eyes met hers in a rather familiar way and Rose lowered hers. She had no desire to be flattered or flirted with today. There was a very special excitement inside her that surpassed all others.

  ‘Well,’ he said, stepping back, ‘please apologize to your sister for me. I really didn’t intend to frighten her, or you, come to that.’ He paused, then added in a rush, ‘In fact, I was hoping to meet you again. I’ve passed your door a couple of times and never had the courage to knock.’

  ‘Oh,’ Rose said heavily, as the penny dropped. ‘I see.’

  He let out a long sigh and groaned. ‘Oh dear, I can see by your face I’ve overstepped the mark.’

  Rose blushed. ‘Well, you see, Bobby,’ she added kindly, ‘I’ve had some wonderful news this morning. Really wonderful. Me and Eddie are . . . expecting.’

  ‘A baby, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’ She giggled a little hysterically. ‘I’m just so happy, Bobby. So very happy.’

  He nodded slowly, unable to hide the disappointment as it dragged down his face. ‘Well, all I can say is, he’s a lucky man, this Eddie of yours. He really is. So, apart from congratulations, I’m happy for you both. Truly happy.’ He looked hard at her, then sighed. A second later he had lifted his box and was grinning over
it. ‘Well now, off you go and tell your sister the good news.’

  Rose smiled. ‘Good luck with that new van.’

  He walked off, struggling, and Rose hurried in to the kitchen. Em, as usual, was at the sink. She turned and said quickly, ‘Who was that?’

  ‘I introduced you, didn’t I? He’s Bobby Morton and a genuinely nice young man.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Em gave her a huffy shrug. ‘Well, what happened? What did the doctor say? I’ve been waiting all day to find out.’

  Rose ignored the cross tone and smiled. ‘Come and plonk down and I’ll tell you.’

  They sat at the table. ‘Oh, Rosy, what is it?’

  ‘You’ll never guess. It’s the best piece of news I’ve had in ages.’

  ‘Is Eddie coming home?’ Em gasped.

  ‘No, I wish he was though, especially now. Em, I’m going to have a baby.’

  ‘A baby?’ Her sister’s gasp was audible.

  ‘All this sickness . . . it isn’t an ulcer or worry or anything like that. I’m perfectly healthy. Em, I’m pregnant!’

  Rose felt a bubble of laughter rise in her chest. Em gave a little scream then flung her arms around her neck. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be so perfectly, wholly happy, when even the air tasted like a mountain stream and the light that flowed through the kitchen window seemed like a shaft of pure silver. The whole world was alight with breathtaking beauty.

  ‘A baby,’ Em repeated in a daze. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Nor can I.’ Rose blinked her damp lashes. ‘But Dr Cox is certain. According to me dates, the baby’s due around the middle of next February.’

  ‘Oh Rosy, didn’t you guess?’ Em asked incredulously.

  ‘I missed me period but I thought it was the upset of Eddie going.’

  ‘What about your job?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And what will Eddie say?’

  Rose giggled. ‘I hope that he’s pleased. We always wanted another one, a boy if possible.’

  ‘Well, yes . . . but—’

  ‘You’re going to say,’ Rose cut in, ‘that it couldn’t have happened at a worse time.’

  Em nodded slowly. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Rose said defiantly. ‘I want this baby more than anything else in the world – except us all being back together of course.’

  A little smile flickered across her sister’s face. ‘Oh Rosy, ’course not.’

  ‘I’ll be able to work for a few months yet.’

  ‘You mean you’re still going to work on Monday?’

  ‘Why not? Nothing’s changed.’ Rose pulled back her shoulders.

  ‘You’re not going to tell them you’re expecting?’

  ‘Not until I have to. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.’

  The two women sat in silence, until Em stood up with a little switch of her head and a sigh. ‘Well, this won’t do. I’m behind as it is. This floor needs cleaning.’

  Rose suddenly saw the funny side of things. She could have just announced an earthquake was imminent and her sister’s only concern would have been that she was behind with the housework. She watched Em go to the cupboard and take out the mop and pail, her brow slightly furrowed under the turban. Rose thought of Bobby Morton and his labour saving devices. She smiled. Although Em and Bobby didn’t know it, they had a lot in common.

  ‘What would you like for tea tonight?’ Em called over her shoulder and Rose saw and heard not Em, but their mother standing at the sink. Both were similar in stature and height at an inch or two over five foot. Both had narrow yet very straight shoulders and efficient little arms always appearing to be busy. Rose had always felt comforted by the sight of her parents in the kitchen. They worked as a team and her father had rarely declined the offer of a cloth if it had been thrust his way. Now there was no short and stocky masculine figure to stand like a helmsman at the wheel and no Eddie to dance around doing exactly the reverse, attempting to escape from it.

  Rose sighed softly. Neither her father nor her husband were here to share in the joy of today’s discovery. The two men she loved most in her life were absent. But how much worse must it be for Em?

  Arthur had lived in this house for a short while after their marriage and had occupied the chair in the front room for most of that time. Eddie always observed cryptically that Arthur had glued his braces to the cushions. But Em had seemed so blissfully happy in those days. The days of innocence, Rose thought a little sadly, when Arthur’s peculiar predilections had not yet surfaced to shatter their lives. Rose wanted to reach out and hug the busy little turbaned figure. She wanted to tell her sister that everything was going to be all right. She knew this because her baby was telling her so. The unbelievable miracle that had happened to Rose would spill over into Em’s life, too, and light it up.

  ‘I went up the shop and bought six sausages,’ Em said as she lowered the pail to the floor and plunged in the mop. ‘I know the girls like Toad in the Hole. Will does too. For afters we could have sponge and custard.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Rose said, retracing her steps backwards into the hall as the mop came swishing across the floor followed by a slim little body wielding such energy that Rose retreated quickly to the front room.

  Here she sat on the couch and stared at the radiogram. No longer was she preoccupied with the past. There was too much to live for in the present. With a soft smile on her lips she drew a cushion in front of her and hugged it tightly. ‘My baby,’ she whispered breathlessly, ‘my darling baby.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Mr Weaver, the facts relating to the robbery are not in dispute. The issue is whether you were one of those who participated in it.’ Charles Herring irritably shuffled the papers in front of him and looked up with an impatient sigh.

  ‘But I never saw the inside of that warehouse, Mr Herring,’ Eddie protested once more, wondering what he had to do to convince his counsel he was innocent. Eddie was beginning to think that the brain of Mr Charles Herring, acting for Mr Lance Puckley-Smythe his defence QC, was as impenetrable as the grey November mist outside.

  ‘But you were in the area at the time, you admit to that?’ demanded the clerk again.

  ‘Yes, I told you, I’d been up West for the day.’

  The severe-faced young man with neatly oiled dark hair and pince-nez spectacles who sat on the other side of the small table, raised his shoulders in a dismissive shrug. ‘The newspaper vendor identified you. As a witness for the police – a surprise witness may I add, his testimony is critical to the charge of handling stolen goods.’

  Eddie wondered if he’d needed his brains tested on that early spring night in May. Fancy buying a paper when he hadn’t even intended to read it? But he’d felt conspicuous walking up and down waiting for his punter. Maybe he should be relieved that his man hadn’t turned up and he’d returned home empty-handed. If the newspaper seller had noted a transaction taking place, then he really would have landed in the proverbial soup. ‘I just bought a newspaper,’ Eddie said brightly. ‘It was a coincidence I was in the area.’

  ‘A coincidence indeed,’ the young man sniffed.

  ‘Coincidences happen all the time,’ Eddie answered dismissively. ‘Anyway, do you think I’d really have been daft enough to flog me neighbour a telly that I’d nicked from this Whitechapel job?’

  ‘It’s not up to me to surmise,’ was the curt reply from a deadpan face. ‘But the prosecution are attempting to link your presence in the area to the warehouse burglary and subsequently the sale of the television to Mr Parker. We have to account for your movements on the day of the Whitechapel burglary. This is our foremost concern.’

  Eddie listened vaguely to the imperious voice ringing in his ears. He was weary of the constant use of ‘our’ and ‘we’ when it was he alone who was being accused of crimes he didn’t commit. It was even more ridiculous that he couldn’t tell the truth about what he was really doing on that day. Eddie was forced t
o smile at the irony.

  But the young lawyer scowled, glancing at Eddie as though the cat had dragged him in. Eddie felt hot and uncomfortable in his shabby suit, which was suffering the creased effects of five months’prison storage. It was his old demob suit, the one that had been donated to him at the end of the war, along with an overcoat, a shirt with two detachable collars, a tie, two pairs of socks, a pair of shoes and a hat. Eddie hated hats and had given it away immediately. The shirt, collars and tie had long gone, but he still wore the suit, shoes and overcoat, thanks to Rose’s careful efforts to preserve every stitch of clothing she’d gathered over the last eight years. The suit was as good as new when pressed to perfection by the heavy old iron heated on the grille over the fire. To think he had felt so confident when he last wore the suit on Coronation Day as he strode into Olga Parker’s front room. He’d thought himself the cat’s whiskers and even the news that Olga had dropped him in it hadn’t dampened his spirits. Now he knew the foolishness of his actions. Rose hadn’t been far wrong when she’d begged him to avoid close contact with their neighbours.

  Eddie began to wish, as he had done innumerable times whilst incarcerated, that he had listened to his wife all those years ago. If only he had bought the licence from Ted Jenkins when he’d retired from his market stall. Cheap enough then, too. Ted had no family and looked on him as a son. But shouting his lungs out behind a stall all day hadn’t appealed to his inflated ego and instead he’d continued to trade on the streets and in pubs and at the racetracks. Eddie shivered at the thought of the debt he had incurred since Marlene was born. The next bet was always the big one, until he lost.

  But that was water under the bridge now. When he got out of this tangle he’d settle down and do as Rose wanted. The lesson he had learnt on remand was a bitter one. Three days ago he had climbed the steps to the dock with his heart in his mouth. Here he was, Eddie Weaver, King of the Road, on trial at the most famous criminal court in the world, the Old Bailey. He’d felt numb with shock to find himself a prisoner under the hallowed roof where the majestic figure of Justice lifted her sword and scales above the City. He’d felt physically ill at the sight of all that gleaming, polished wood, black gowns and powdery white wigs. And when Lord Justice Markbury had taken his seat, accompanied by twelve members of the jury on the bench, it was then that Eddie had known the meaning of true fear.