by Joan Jonker
The rent book, with the money on top, was on the sideboard and Kate picked it up as she made her way to the front door. ‘Hi, Bill, I just made it back in time. I’d forgotten it was Monday until Winnie reminded us.’ She passed the book and money over. ‘Five minutes later and I’d have missed yer.’
The collector grinned. ‘I know yer’ve been to the shops, Kate, ’cos I’ve just bumped into Mrs Cartwright. She’s dashed home to pick up her rent and said she’d catch me up. I told her to leave it until next week because I know she wouldn’t do a midnight flit. But yer know what she’s like, always pays on the dot.’
‘She’s not the only one, Bill, I’ve never been behind with me rent. I’d rather go without food than miss that. I had it drummed into me when I was a kid by me ma. She used to say yer could go without food or coal, but yer couldn’t go without a roof over yer head. And her words have always stayed with me.’
‘I wish all the tenants were like that.’ Bill entered the payment in his ledger, filled in her rent book and passed it back. Then he lifted the flap and dropped her money into the large leather bag which hung in front of him from the wide leather straps around his shoulders. ‘Mind you, some poor buggers can’t pay up every week, and I have a lot of sympathy for them. With the man of the house being out of work, they’re living on the poverty line. The women earn a few bob doing cleaning jobs, or taking in washing, but that’s not enough to keep the wolf from the door. The boss isn’t very happy when he sees arrears in me book, but I can usually talk him round. He’s not a bad landlord, or a bad boss to work for.’
‘I wonder how long Miss Parkinson’s house will be empty for?’ Kate asked. ‘I hope it’s let to a decent family.’
‘I know there’s two families after it now, but more than that I can’t tell yer. It’ll be taken in the next week, that’s for sure, because unlike some houses that come empty, it won’t need fumigating. It’s ready for a family to move into.’
Kate shivered. ‘Yer mean, they sometimes have fleas and bugs?’
‘And yer can add the word filth. Yer wouldn’t believe the state some people leave their houses in. I’d be ashamed of meself.’ Bill lifted the strap which was digging into his shoulder. ‘Anyway, I’ll let yer know next week if I find anything out.’ He began to laugh. ‘Here comes Mrs Cartwright, her book and money clutched in her hand. I’ll walk down to meet her, save her being breathless.’
‘I’ll get in and sort me washing out. Ta-ra, Bill, see yer next week.’ Kate closed the door quickly, knowing she ought to put a move on. She was meeting her two mates again in an hour to go to the photographer’s in London Road, and she wanted to get the dinner prepared by then. And wash a pair of Billy’s trousers and get them on the line to dry. He only had two pairs, one slightly better than the other, but the pair she wanted to wash had a hole in the backside you could put your fist through. It would take some doing to get a patch to cover it, but needs must when the devil drives. There were boys playing in the street with holes in their socks and trousers, but she didn’t want her son to be one of them. Anyway, she’d peel the spuds and carrots first, then put the trousers in steep while she made herself a quick cuppa.
‘Well, this is it.’ Winnie pulled her two friends to a halt outside a shop that looked quite bare compared to the other shops in the busy shopping area of London Road. They’d passed T. J. Hughes, where the huge windows were displaying clothes, china, bedding, shoes, and lots of other things which could be bought inside. The windows of Brown’s, the jeweller’s on the other side of the main road, were bright with sparkling diamond, ruby and sapphire rings, gold necklaces and bracelets. But the window the three friends were looking in had just two small photographs, both of young women, and one huge family portrait showing a mother, father and three children. They all looked stiff as though terrified to move, but it was a definite eye-catcher. Whoever had taken it was a true professional.
‘I bet that one cost a few bob,’ Winnie said. ‘Can’t yer just imagine it hanging in a posh drawing room over the fireplace, or in a hallway?’
‘Yeah, it shows what yer can do if yer have money.’ Monica was eyeing the clothes on the people in the portrait. ‘Those dresses on the kids and the mother must have cost a small fortune. My feller would have to work a full year to buy us clothes like that.’
‘Money is the root of all evil,’ Kate said. ‘It can buy yer anything in the world. Take yer to any place in the world where yer want to go. But it can’t buy yer health or happiness.’ She moved away from the window. ‘Well, shall we all take a deep breath and go in?’
‘After forking out on tram fare, I’m not backing out now. So as you’re nearer the door, girl, just push it open and me and Winnie will follow yer in.’
They found themselves in a waiting room with half a dozen chairs set against the wall upon which there was a notice which asked them to sit down and they would be attended to as soon as possible. So, a little disheartened, the women looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and sat down. Their bottoms had no sooner touched the chairs when a door on the opposite wall opened and two young women came out, each holding an envelope in one hand, and a photograph in the other.
‘God, I look terrible!’ girl number one said. ‘Look at the state of me hair, and me eyes look as though they’re popping out of me head.’
‘Swap over and let’s have a dekko.’ This was girl number two. After a quick scrutiny, she pulled a face. ‘They’re not bad, Alice. I mean, we’re not exactly film stars, are we? The man can’t make us look like something we’re not.’
Alice clearly thought her looks deserved more than that. ‘I don’t think they’re very good of either of us, they don’t do us justice.’
‘I bet we’ll think different when we see them in daylight. It’s too dark in here to tell, let’s go outside.’
‘I can’t see how bleeding daylight can make them look like Jean Harlow,’ Winnie said with a grin. ‘If it did, I’d never go indoors.’
Just then the door opened again and a man came out. He was of medium height, smartly dressed, with thick black hair and an efficient manner. ‘Good day, ladies, what can I do for you?’
When her two mates remained silent, Kate said, ‘I don’t know whether yer can do anything, it might not be in your line, but there’s no harm in asking.’ She quickly filled him in with all the details of what they wanted and why.
‘I’m afraid it isn’t in my line,’ the man said, ‘but I do know someone who does take the kind of photographs you’re after. He works as a press photographer, most of his work is for newspapers and magazines. I could give you his telephone number and you can ring him and see what he says.’
‘That wouldn’t do much good because none of us has a telephone.’ Kate felt like Little Orphan Annie, as poor as a church mouse. ‘Perhaps you have an address where we could contact him?’
The man’s eyes never left her face. Her two friends might not have been there for all the notice he took of them. He was thinking that with her beauty she would take a marvellous photograph. He could work wonders if she would sit for him. With her bone structure, the wide deep brown eyes and sweeping black eyelashes, she was the perfect model.
Kate began to grow embarrassed under the man’s searching eyes and lengthy silence. ‘It doesn’t matter if yer don’t have an address, we’ll try somewhere else.’
‘I’m sorry, I was thinking. I will ring him from here for you, explain what you require and ask if he’s interested. Oh, and if you give me your name and home address, and he agrees, I can perhaps get a date and time he will be able to call. Would that help you?’
‘That’s very kind of you, and yes, it would be a great help.’ Kate kept her eyes off her neighbour when she gave the man Monica’s name and address. ‘We would be very grateful.’
When the door had closed behind him, Monica said, ‘Well, I like that, I must say! The cheek of you, Kate Spencer! Who said yer could give him my name and address?’
‘He had me a
ll hot and bothered, the way he was looking at me! I didn’t think yer’d mind, sunshine, but if yer do, I’ll tell the man when he comes back.’
‘There was no harm in him, queen. He was probably interested in yer because yer do have the looks of a film star.’ Winnie was nodding as though she had read the man’s thoughts. ‘I bet he’d like to take yer photie to put in his window.’
Monica’s throaty chuckle warned Kate she wasn’t going to like what was to come. ‘Or perhaps he’d like one to hang over his bed.’
‘If you mention the words bed or Robin Hood, so help me, sunshine, I’ll walk out of this shop and leave yer to it.’
Monica blew out, making her lips quiver, then leaned towards Winnie. ‘Yer know her trouble, don’t yer, girl? No bleeding sense of humour.’
‘Would it be asking too much to see if we can behave like ladies when the man comes back? He’ll think we’ve been dragged up from the gutter.’
‘Considering me and Winnie haven’t opened our mouths, if he gets the impression we’re as common as muck, then it’s you what’s done it, girl, not us.’
‘He’s taking a long time, I wonder if he can’t get hold of the other chap?’ Kate said. ‘I hope he can, ’cos if the bloke takes pictures for the papers and magazines he’ll be used to doing outside work like streets and things. Then again, he might charge the earth for what we’re wanting. Expenses for travelling, plus his time, plus everything else . . . he might be out of our league altogether.’
Monica once again leaned towards Winnie. ‘As well as having no sense of humour, she’s a bleeding pessimist. Always expects the worse.’
‘I most certainly do not!’ Kate was emphatic. ‘I always look on the bright side, I never look for trouble.’
They hadn’t heard any footsteps so when the door suddenly opened they all sat up straight as though they’d been caught in the act of being naughty. Once again the photographer’s eyes went straight to Kate. ‘I managed to get hold of him. He’ll be at your house tomorrow at ten o’clock, if that’s convenient? If not I’m to call him back with a time that suits you.’
‘Tomorrow is fine.’ Kate jumped to her feet. ‘And we’d like to thank you very much for your trouble. You have been kind.’
‘Before you go, can I ask if you’ve ever sat for a portrait, Mrs Parry?’
Kate blushed when she heard Monica giggle, and was really expecting her mate to say she was the real Mrs Parry, and no, she hadn’t had her portrait taken. ‘No, I haven’t,’ said Kate finally when her friend did not speak up. ‘I couldn’t afford to because I have a husband and two children to feed and clothe.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t touting for business, Mrs Parry, I wouldn’t expect you to pay. But I would very much like to take your photograph, for free, if you would allow me to display it in my window. I would, of course, give you a print for yourself.’
Kate backed away from him and bumped into a chair. ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that, me husband wouldn’t like it. Besides, what would the neighbours say if they passed yer shop and saw a photograph of me in the window? They’d wonder where I got the money from, and say I was getting too big for me boots.’
Monica could see her friend was getting flustered, and although she couldn’t understand why, it wasn’t in her to stand back and not lend some moral support. ‘Can me friend have some time to think about it? After all, yer’ve taken her by surprise and she’s very shy at the best of times.’ She cupped Kate’s elbow. ‘Let her give it some thought when she gets home and has a talk with her husband. She’ll come and tell yer if she changes her mind.’
Winnie then cupped Kate’s other arm and she was marched out of the shop like a prisoner between two guards. When she felt the pavement beneath her feet, she turned on Monica. ‘Why did yer tell him I’d think about it? Yer know damn well I wouldn’t dream of doing what he asked.’
Monica let go of her arm and faced her. ‘It’s up to you what yer do, girl, but the way ye’re carrying on, anyone would think the man had insulted yer instead of paying yer a compliment. If it had been me, I’d have jumped at the chance.’
‘For what it’s worth, queen, I agree with Monica,’ Winnie said. ‘Not that he’d be likely to want a photie of my ugly mug. But yer could have had a smashing professional photie taken, like the one in the window of the family, and it wouldn’t have cost yer a penny. Most people would give their eye teeth for such a chance.’
Monica’s laughter rumbled in her tummy. ‘Ay, girl, they’d have had to have the picture taken before they parted with their eye teeth. It wouldn’t be good for the man’s business to have a gummy woman as a sample of his work.’
‘Listen, yer can both talk until ye’re blue in the face, but I won’t change me mind. How soft I’d look with people gawping at me through the window. Can yer imagine what the neighbours would say? I’d be the talk of the wash-house.’
‘And how many of our neighbours d’yer think stroll down London Road looking into shop windows? Particularly that window. They’d consider having their photo taken a luxury. They’ve got more on their mind, like where’s the next meal coming from, or how much longer their kids’ shoes will last without the soles falling off. I doubt if anyone yer know would ever see yer photograph.’
Kate shook her head. ‘John wouldn’t like it at all. He’d be dead against it.’
‘Are yer going to tell him, so he can make up his own mind?’
‘Waste of time, that would be, I know what he’d say.’
‘Oh, queen, yer can be as stubborn as a mule sometimes.’ Winnie had always thought Kate was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen, and when she grew older, how nice it would be for her and her family to have a photie to look back on. ‘When yer get home, and yer nerves settle down, think it through properly because yer may never get another chance. And I’ve got a feeling John and the children would be delighted.’
Kate blew out her breath impatiently. Deep down, she knew that her friends were saying what they thought was best for her, but she was still unnerved by the memory of the man’s searching gaze and so she stuck to her guns. ‘I’ll never sit and have my portrait taken so let’s leave it at that. Can we please get home? Me throat is parched and I’m dying for a cup of tea.’
Monica and Winnie looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and linked Kate’s arms as they walked towards the tram stop.
The subject wasn’t mentioned on the way home, and Kate become more relaxed. ‘Don’t forget, that bloke’s coming at ten in the morning so put yer best bib and tucker on and don’t be late.’ They had turned into their street and she saw something that had her tugging at her friends’ arms. ‘Ay, Sergeant Bridgewater’s at Maggie’s door! Come on, let’s make a dash for it, I want to find out what’s going on so we can tell Miss Parkinson.’
‘Hello, ladies! I was just keeping Mrs Duffy informed on how the case is progressing. Now you’re here, it will save me knocking on your doors and having to repeat it. But first, I must say what a surprise it was to find out Miss Parkinson had moved. I’m told she has gone to live with family where she’ll be well cared for, so it’s maybe for the best. If the offender had not pleaded guilty, we may have needed her as a witness. However, even if he changes his plea to not guilty, which sometimes happens, we still have you as four good witnesses.’
‘What’s happening with this Tricky Dicky, is he in jail?’
‘He’s still in custody but he’s due in court on Wednesday which is what brings me here. I wasn’t aware that Miss Parkinson had moved and wanted to give her the chance of attending. And, of course, any of you ladies who might want to find out what happens to villains like Richard Willis.’
‘He will be sent to jail, won’t he?’ Monica asked. ‘I’d hate to see him getting away with it.’
‘There’s no doubt he will be sent down. I couldn’t tell you for how long, it depends very much on the judge. Some are more lenient than others.’
‘I don’t fancy sitting in a courtroom,’ Kate said. ‘But I
would like to know what happens to him so we can let Miss Parkinson know that the monster who frightened the life out of her is being punished. We are going to keep in touch with her, yer see, we’re not going to forget her, not after all those years.’ Kate then went on to tell the sergeant about the photographs they were arranging to have taken, to remind her of her old home and her nearest neighbours.
‘That’s a lovely thought,’ the officer said, ‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate them. And if none of you fancy sitting in court, and I don’t blame you because it could take up most of your day, then I’ll make it my business to call again and let you know the outcome of the trial.’
‘It won’t take all day, surely?’ Winnie looked surprised. ‘I thought it would be over in an hour or so, ’cos if ever there was an open and shut case, this is it. There were at least twelve witnesses, apart from Miss Parkinson.’
Sergeant Bridgewater shook his head. ‘If his is the first case to be heard, then it could be over and done with by late afternoon. If not, it could be carried over to the next day. Some people find the workings of a court very interesting and are frequent visitors, but I don’t think you would. In fact, you would probably find it maddening because Richard Willis will have a barrister whose job it is either to get him off or to try for the most lenient sentence possible. You would find that very hard to swallow.’
‘Ye’re not joking,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m afraid I’d be standing up and telling that barrister what I thought of him. That thief needs to be in jail, not only to teach him a lesson but because he needs to be punished. She’s a real gentle old lady is Miss Parkinson, and wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Hear, hear!’ Monica said. ‘I’d batter him meself if I could get me hands on him.’
‘He won’t be very popular in prison, ladies, I can assure you. There are some old lags in there who won’t take kindly to a man who picks on old people to rob from. It’s funny but criminals have their own code of practice. They think anyone harming children or old people is worse than a murderer. Don’t ask me how they reach that conclusion, but it’s true.’