by Carol Rivers
Rose understood now. ‘This is why you’re upset, because of Arthur.’
Em stared at her. She was shaking and twitching so much that Rose thought she was about to cry. But instead she turned and ran up the stairs. A few seconds later a loud bang shook the house. The bedroom door rattled on its hinges. Rose listened to the muffled weeping coming from above.
A few minutes later she went upstairs. ‘Em?’ she called outside the bedroom door.
Slowly it opened. Her sister fell into her arms. ‘Oh, Rosy, I’m sorry.’
‘There’s nothing to be sorry about.’
‘What made me say such awful things?’
‘You’ve bottled up your feelings, that’s why.’
Em sniffed noisily on her shoulder. ‘I didn’t know I had.’
‘Come downstairs. I’ll make some tea.’
Em pushed her gently away. ‘Rosy, you’re right. Mum would have done the same as you. She’d have looked after anyone who needed a helping hand – in life or in death. Go and do what you have to.’
‘Are you sure?’
Em nodded, rubbing her puffy cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘Yes, go on.’
‘I’m sorry about Arthur not having a proper funeral.’
To Rose’s surprise, her sister smiled. ‘He’s still up at Eastbourne Crem in an urn. I suppose one day I might forgive him and buy a rose tree and scatter him under it.’ Her mouth twitched. ‘Or I might go down the pier and chuck him off the end.’
‘But Arthur was frightened of water,’ Rose pointed out.
Em nodded, a twinkle in her eye. ‘He couldn’t swim a stroke. Serve him right, won’t it?’
Solly Rosenberg had just endured an hour of his wife’s company and he was exhausted. Even the tax man didn’t worry him like his wife did. At least his accountant was dealing with the problems of his business, whilst there was no one, other than himself, to calm Alma’s highly strung nature. Their only daughter, Ruth, was staying with her husband’s parents in the States and would not be back until after the summer. If his appeal was successful he would be out of this place very soon. Solly had high hopes of coming out of his present difficulties without a scratch. He was worth more to the tax man in employment than he was sewing mail bags.
Solly wasn’t quite certain how he’d come to marry Alma thirty-two years ago, although, if he was honest, he suspected his motives had been swayed by Alma’s sizeable dowry. If it hadn’t been for his wife’s parents, who had sadly departed this mortal coil, Solly thought as he raised his small, dark eyes honouringly to the sky as he strolled around the large playing field belonging to Hewis prison, then his life would have been far, far different. Less rich in material goods and vastly less worthy in character. Solly had always viewed his wife as an investment, just as he had his stock market shares. His chain of retail outlets, inexpensive clothing for both sexes, was nowhere near as lucrative as his stocks portfolio. But Alma couldn’t sample, stroke or wear his portfolio. So he maintained his business at modest profits, content to allow Alma the pleasure of her frequent tours, inspecting the shops with an eagle eye.
Today Alma had been wearing a creation of black and white that dazzled Solly throughout the visit, as the stripes wove over her generous bosom and undulating girth in a kaleidoscope action that caused him to feel slightly nauseous.
So very different from the quiet grace of the young woman who had sat at the next table to them. Now, as Solly recalled the heart-stopping brown eyes that had smiled occasionally at him from a truly exquisite face, he had realized he’d spent most of his time trying to overhear their conversation as Alma prattled on about the Knightsbridge shop and her intention to introduce to it a larger size of women’s fashion wear.
Solly groaned softly. Larger women had dominated his life. His mother, his grandmother, his mother-in-law and now his wife. There was nothing wrong with large women, in fact he enjoyed them tremendously. And Alma was a sensual woman who had contributed not a little panache to his enjoyment of sex. But he was a small man in stature and his appetite had always got him into trouble.
‘Give you a pound for each one,’ said the voice beside him and Solly jumped guiltily.
‘Oh, now that is a generous offer, my friend! I’ll keep you to it.’ Solly smiled, twisting his lips dramatically under his huge nose. It was a little affectation he’d learned in order to draw the onlooker’s eye from the monopolizing feature above.
‘Well, owing to lack of funds, it’ll have to be a fag,’ Eddie shrugged good naturedly. ‘Here you are.’
‘No, my boy!’ Solly refused the roll-up. ‘I’ll tell you for free. I was thinking of your wife as it happens.’
Eddie gave a hoot. ‘Well, I’ll take that as a compliment from you, Solly.’
‘You make a handsome couple.’
Eddie looked at him pensively. ‘She’s a cracker, my Rose. And too good for me by far.’
Solly studied his young companion’s preoccupied face. On this beautiful early May evening, just as the scarlet sun was crawling down the dimpled sky, the world seemed a perfect place. But Solly was aware that his cell mate was unusually troubled and he wondered why.
‘I’ve let her down,’ Eddie continued as Solly discreetly kept silent. ‘I wish with all me heart I’d never laid a quid on that bloody dog at White City after Toots was born. I mean, any sensible punter would have taken the money and run.’
‘There is no such thing as a sensible punter,’ Solly answered as they began their second lap of the big green field where a few inmates were strolling casually, enjoying the peaceful summer evening. Solly still couldn’t believe that an innocent looking fence such as the one that encircled the exercise area was enough deterrent to keep in the prisoners. But then again, the inmates of Hewis had more to lose than gain by attempting escape. Remand prisoners and those with shorter sentences like Eddie kept their heads down and did their time. It was not an unpleasant place if you could stomach the terrible food and the boredom and the disembodied sensation you were half in one world and half in another.
‘I’ve told you I was a floater,’ Eddie added as he stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘But what I haven’t mentioned is that I owe a few quid to a pretty unpleasant character. He’s been round to put the frighteners on Rose.’
‘A few quid?’ Solly’s old heart squeezed sympathetically. ‘How much precisely, my boy?’
An unpleasant few seconds passed before the reply. ‘Six hundred and fifty smackeroonies plus interest.’
Solly tried not to let his astonishment show. His young friend seemed quite unlike the type to be so reckless. ‘How did this happen?’
Eddie gave a hard laugh. ‘Gawd knows, Solly. I kept thinking me luck would change but I just kept borrowing more to pay off one bookie and then the next. Then, just before the Coronation, I put ten quid on an accumulator. No one was more surprised than me when it came up. So I stuffed a monkey in me safe to pay back the debt and blew the one hundred and fifty on Star of the East, a surefire bet that turned round and ran the other way in the three-thirty, Newmarket.’
‘Eddie, this is bad news, this obsession of yours.’
‘Yeah, me and the rest of the universe. You ain’t telling me you’ve never lost a quid on a pretty little filly, Solly!’
‘Strangely enough, not the four-legged variety, my friend.’ Solly stopped, a little out of puff from all the fresh air and exercise. ‘But at least you had your five hundred to settle the debt?’
‘I had it and lost it.’
‘No!’
‘Not in the way you think. I stashed it under the floorboards, see. And when I got nicked I thought to meself, well I won’t clear the slate but Rose and the kids won’t want for nothing while I’m away.’ Eddie’s voice shook slightly. ‘I couldn’t have been more wrong. The buggers broke in and took the lot. And now they’re turning up and watching the house. If they touch a hair of her head—’
‘Calm yourself,’ Solly whispered, stretching out to lay a plump
hand on his friend’s arm.
Eddie swallowed heavily. ‘Yeah, but it don’t end there. Rose got the hump one day and went a bit crackers.’
‘Crackers?’ Solly shook his head. ‘How is this?’
‘She walloped their motor with a broom and made such a song and dance half the street came out to see what was happening. What scares me is, they won’t leave it at that. And there ain’t a bloody thing I can do about it,’ he ended bitterly.
‘Who is this man who gives you such aggravation?’ Solly asked curiously.
‘A bloke by the name of Norman Payne and a right pain in the backside he is too.’
For a moment the older man frowned, passing his hand over his bald patch and down the back of his short, thick neck. ‘Your Rose has spirit, my boy.’
Solly watched Eddie’s face tighten. His face had turned a dull grey as if all the life was draining out of it. ‘Yeah, she has an’ all. Do you know what else she did? On Easter Sunday, Olga Parker died. That’s the woman whose husband I flogged the bent telly to, remember?’
Solly racked his brains hard, having forgotten what Eddie had told him regarding the events that had led up to his arrest. Solly had more important things to consider at the time, like how to explain to Alma that he was considering a little tidy up of the shops when he was released. The cash, bolstered by the stocks and drip fed by an off-shore account into the business books, was becoming more and more difficult to camouflage. Alma was entitled to her whim, of course, but not at the price of his freedom.
‘Yes,’ Solly nodded hesitantly. There were so many complications that comprised this young man’s life, although most certainly he recognized the notorious name his young friend had almost choked on a minute or two ago. Norman Payne was a ruthless predator who swallowed his victims whole.
‘It turns out Olga was German, not Polish. Her family were wiped out during the war by the Nazis. Olga only just managed to escape herself. But then she goes and tops herself and there’s no one to give her a send-off as she’s been dumped by the moron she lived with. So my Rose decides to have a whip round but ain’t got enough to do the business, so she hocks her mother’s pearls—’
‘Your wife borrowed money on her jewels?’ Solly interrupted, trying to absorb this wealth of unexpected detail.
‘Yeah, but the necklace ain’t anything special, just sentimental value, like.’
Solly was even more confused now. ‘But why would she do this for a woman she hardly knew?’
Eddie threw back his head and sighed. ‘You don’t know my Rose,’ he said with a faraway look in his eye. ‘Y’see, Rose felt really bad about the telly. And so did I of course. And it was because of the telly that Olga got found out, if you see what I mean?’
Solly wasn’t sure he did, but nodded all the same.
‘Anyway, as I was saying,’ Eddie continued briskly, ‘Rose gets Olga buried in the end, up Golders Green too, with her feet pointing towards the Promised Land as a mark of respect for her being Jewish an’ all.’
Solly stared incredulously at his friend. ‘Your wife is a remarkable woman, my friend. What did you say was this other lady’s name?’
‘Olga Parker. No, I tell a lie.’ Eddie creased his brow as he tried to recall what Rose had told him a few hours previously. ‘Her real name was Sarah something or other. Nem . . . no, Nimitz, I think Rose said it was. You know, my old lady is one in a million, Solly, and the trouble is, I never appreciated the fact till now.’
Solly nodded thoughtfully. He forgot all about the beauty of the summer evening as his interest was kindled in Eddie Weaver’s domestic affairs. For to hear of a gentile going to such extraordinary lengths on behalf of a Jew aroused his curiosity. His own life on this earth had been tested from the moment he had drawn breath. He had risen to the top of the tree entirely by his own efforts; no one had lifted a finger to help the ugly little Jewish boy from an East End ghetto.
Solly frowned. What ulterior motive could this young woman have in burying a Jew – and at the cost of her own possessions? ‘Come my friend,’ he murmured, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder as a fresh breeze stirred the air. ‘Tell me more as we walk.’
‘Blimey,’ Eddie said with a grin, ‘how long have you got?’
Solly laughed underneath the huge beacon of his nose. ‘According to my solicitor, another month at the most.’
Eddie roared with laughter and Solly did too.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Happy birthday, Benny, love. From Em and me and the kids.’ Rose gave her friend a hug and pushed the parcel into his chest. ‘I know Neet won’t approve, so you’ll have to find somewhere to enjoy it in peace.’ They had bought him a soft leather tobacco pouch that was second-hand from the market but real leather and looked as good as new. Inside she had tucked a finger of medium Navy Cut, Benny’s preferred tobacco, and a packet of papers. The present was tied up in brown paper and a pink thread of Em’s embroidery silk.
‘I’ll make meself scarce and indulge.’ Benny winked. ‘Thanks, Rose.’
‘Happy birthday, Uncle Benny.’ Marlene waved a handwritten birthday card. ‘I done it meself.’
‘Blimey, ain’t you clever.’ Benny lifted Marlene in his strong arms and gave her a peck on the head. He landed her quickly. ‘Struth, are you putting on weight or am I getting weak in me old age?’
Marlene giggled, running off in search of food. Benny’s fortieth birthday was being celebrated in style. Rose and Em had been helping to prepare the party. Their efforts had taken them from nine in the morning to four in the afternoon. Most of the time had been used to chinwag whilst slapping filling into the bread rolls and whipping the custard. Rose wanted to talk to Benny before everyone arrived. Anita had described the event as open house. They were preparing for an onslaught.
‘And this is from me and Will.’ Donnie and Will stood in their best clothes holding a long, striped, woollen creation, the ends dangling over their hands. ‘It’s to cover your seat in the lorry. We knitted it. Marlene was supposed to help too, but she got fed up and left us to do it all. Auntie Em showed us how to stitch it together.’
Rose smiled as she met Benny’s eyes. The kids had been knitting furiously for weeks and had only finished it last night. Benny looked impressed as he held it out at arm’s length. ‘Well, that’ll keep me bum warm, won’t it?’
‘You’ve got it upside down,’ Will said, scuffing back his unruly blond hair with grubby fingers.
‘It doesn’t really matter which way it is,’ Marlene contradicted, nudging him.
‘I’ll have enough to wrap round me neck and all,’ Benny grinned as he folded it carefully and laid it on the couch. ‘Ain’t I lucky to have you lot to look after me?’
‘Can we play outside for a bit?’ Donnie asked Rose.
‘Yes, but don’t get dirty. And take Marlene with you too.’
Benny and Rose watched them through the front window, admiring their new party frocks that Em had made from a yard of pink organza. They looked like little ballerinas in their clean ankle socks and white crêpe-soled sandals. The shoes were new, Rose had bought them from Dol’s stall at the market, luckily the right size for Donnie but a shade large for Marlene so she’d stuffed newspaper in the toes to make them fit. Will wore a white short-sleeved shirt that Em had run up on the machine and a pair of grey school shorts. His hair had started out with a parting and a wet comb. However a morning in Marlene’s company had put paid to all that and it now stuck out from his head and he had a button missing from his collar.
‘How’s work?’ Benny adjusted his tie as he turned to look at Rose. She knew he hated getting dressed up but Anita had left orders. A fresh shirt, waistcoat and trousers, and a tie that seemed like it was about to strangle him.
‘Busy, thanks, Benny.’ Rose had been back at Kirkwood’s for a month now. She was still washing up and making sandwiches. ‘The money’s good, four pounds ten a week plus overtime. How’s the haulage business?’
‘I got another acc
ount this week,’ Benny said modestly. ‘Shifting part-worn tyres from Pinner to Middlesbrough. Two trips a month and maybe more. I just found a new lock-up near East India dock at a quarter of the rent. I told the bloke I’d take his bananas up to Covent Garden no charge if we could do the deal.’ He smiled shyly. ‘How’s me old mate doing down in Hewis then?’
‘Not bad,’ Rose shrugged.
‘A year’s up already,’ Benny said with forced enthusiasm. ‘He’s on the home straight now.’
The first year of the new Queen’s reign was over. Twelve months ago Rose had been waiting for Eddie to join her at the Parkers’. ‘I saw him last week,’ she continued quietly. ‘Bobby Morton drove me down on Wednesday.’
‘You only had to ask,’ Benny frowned, ‘and I’d have taken you.’
‘I know, but he offered, so I took him up on it. Gwen gave me the day off.’
Rose was well aware that Bobby was doing all he could to impress Em even though he had very little encouragement. He had suggested they all go in the shooting brake as before, but Eddie refused to have his girls step inside prison walls again. Rose had considered the coach but it would have meant a very long day.
‘Eddie said to wish you a happy birthday,’ Rose added quickly.
‘Is that millionaire bloke still banged up?’ Benny asked curiously.
‘No, he was released last week. But I have me doubts as to the millionaire part, Benny.’
‘What was he doing in nick, then?’
‘The tax man was after him. But in the end, they couldn’t prove anything. He told Eddie he had the best accountant breathing.’
‘Pity the same couldn’t be said about Eddie’s counsel.’ Benny shook his head glumly. ‘That little squirt Charles Herring had no interest in Eddie’s case, if you ask me. And the QC was no better. I reckon he turned a deaf ear to Eddie’s version of events.’