‘What about this one, then?’
It was Grace swinging round excitedly outside the ballet shop. The same man was hovering near her by the shop window.
‘Blimey!’ he said, startled.
‘You know what I’m thinking?’ said Jeffries.
‘Yeah,’ said Henry, alarmed. ‘Mrs Beaumont is being followed.’
‘You’re right,’ said a familiar voice behind them.
Henry and Jeffries yelped and whirled round. Pip was standing behind them.
‘Pip!’ they yelled.
‘You made me jump,’ said Jeffries. ‘How did you get in without us noticing? I didn’t hear the door opening.’
‘I was already here. I’ve been hiding under a blanket behind there.’ He pointed to a stack of boxes at the end of the room.
‘We’ve been wondering where you’ve been,’ said Jeffries. ‘When you didn’t turn up for Maths, Mr David reported you to the headmaster.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Henry, puzzled. ‘How long have you been hiding here?’
‘Since dinner time. The key was in the lock. I hid when Mr Finch came in. I was going to leave after he’d gone, but he locked the door.’
‘But Mr Finch said to come after school. Why did you come here at dinner time?’
‘To get a clean cardigan for Mum.’
Henry and Jeffries stared at him, baffled.
‘Why did you think you’d find her cardigan here?’ Jeffries asked.
In the dim red light Pip looked like a frightened rabbit.
‘I don’t want to go to an orphanage!’
‘Why would you have to?’ Henry asked, mystified.
‘Because we haven’t got a home any more. We had to leave last night. The landlady told us to go. She was so angry. She just kept shouting at us. And I don’t know why.’
Henry had his suspicions. It sounded as if the landlady had discovered Pip was a bastard.
‘But that’s what happened to us!’ Jeffries said.
‘This cardigan,’ Henry said, ‘where is it?
‘Behind the boxes.’
Hidden under a blanket Henry found the suitcase he had seen at Pip’s lodgings. Draped over it was a pale green cardigan.
‘You didn’t sleep here last night, did you?’ asked Jeffries.
‘No. At the Plaza.’
‘At the Plaza?’ Henry and Jeffries exclaimed.
Pip nodded.
‘Mum’s got a key. We went back there after Mum finished her cleaning job at an office.’ He gave a nervous smile. ‘It was like being in a palace with all the chandeliers and big fancy staircases and everything. And we had the sinks all to ourselves in the toilets. Mum says she’s never been so clean. This morning she let me out the back, where there’s that tunnel from the exit beside the ten-penny seats.’
‘Where are you going to sleep tonight?’ asked Jeffries.
‘Same place.’
‘What if you get caught?’ Henry said.
‘Then I’ll get taken away to an orphanage. If Mum hasn’t got a home, she can’t keep me. That’s why I didn’t want Mr Finch to find me. He’d tell the headmaster. And then he’d tell the police and I’d be taken away. And they might send me to Australia,’ he added, his voice trembling.
Jeffries placed his hands on Pip’s tiny shoulders.
‘We won’t let them, will we, Henry?’
‘No, we’ll look after you. You can keep your suitcase in our air-raid shelter.’
‘We’re like the three musketeers,’ said Jeffries.
‘Four, counting Grace,’ added Henry.
‘You’re right,’ said Pip bravely.
‘Only seven out of the nine came out,’ lied Henry.
He and Jeffries had popped in the following night to see Mrs Beaumont with six of the photographs. He didn’t want her to be frightened so he only showed her one photograph with the man in it. The boys glanced at one another, wondering if she would recognise him, but she made no comment.
‘Who’s the man with the dark curly hair?’ Henry asked quickly, and he placed one of the pictures her brother had taken in front of her. It was the photograph of the New Year’s Eve party.
‘Jim MacTavish. He’s a stills photographer. He’s very good. He’s a friend of Max’s. He’s had his photographs published in Picture Post, Lilliput and even the New York Times. Now,’ she said, ‘is Pip coming to see Passport to Pimlico with us?’
‘He can’t,’ said Jeffries. ‘He and his mother . . . ’
‘Are going to see another film,’ interrupted Henry quickly.
At the Troxy, as Henry sat surrounded by people laughing, he felt that Pip had had a lucky escape. Passport to Pimlico irritated him.
‘You two are rather quiet,’ Mrs Beaumont remarked on the way home.
‘It got on my nerves,’ said Henry.
‘It made me so angry!’ said Jeffries. ‘Why do they think people would act like children if they didn’t have ration books any more?’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Henry.
‘So you don’t think the spivs and racketeers would take over if there were no rules and regulations?’ said Mrs Beaumont.
‘They might. But why give up if they do? If the shop-keepers had found a way round it, they could have stayed living in a happy separate country. It’s as if the film is telling people the only way is the government way.’
Henry had a feeling that there was more behind Jeffries’ rage than the film.
‘I hate this country,’ Jeffries muttered.
‘Henry, what did you think?’ asked Mrs Beaumont.
‘I liked it at first but then it got annoying. I agree with Jeffries. But I can’t think of the words to, you know, explain. He says it better.’
‘That’s because he reads books,’ said Mrs Beaumont wryly.
When Henry slipped into the house, the only sound he could hear was light music on the wireless in Gran’s room. He found his mother sitting alone at the kitchen table, reading. He hadn’t seen her do that since before Molly was born. She smiled guiltily as if she had been caught out doing something naughty.
‘How was the film?’ she asked. It was the first time for a while Henry had been able to be alone with her without being constantly interrupted or having her only half listening while she was cooking or cleaning or running after his half-sister.
‘It was funny at the beginning. These people in London found out that they weren’t part of England so they didn’t have to do what the government said any more. It made fun of all the restrictions that Mr Jenkins goes on about. It had some good bits in it but in the end they all went back to doing what they were told and were all happy to have their ration books back again.’
He told her how angry Jeffries had been.
‘That’s strange, because Mrs Jeffries told me that since she’s been at Mrs Beaumont’s it’s the happiest they’ve been in ten years.’
Henry heard his gran’s door open and close quietly. His mother put a finger to her lips.
‘So,’ she said loudly, ‘are you going to the Cinema Club on Saturday morning or are you working for Mr Jenkins?’
Henry wondered why his gran stayed in the hallway and didn’t come in. In the end he opened the door and peered out but there was no sign of her. And then his mother said a strange thing.
‘I wonder how much she overheard this time.’
‘This time? You make Gran sound like a spy.’
His mother said nothing.
‘Oh,’ said Henry, realising. ‘You don’t think she heard us talk about Mrs Jeffries?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not.’
On Saturday morning he met Jeffries, Pip and Grace at the Cinema Club. Pip kept dozing off.
‘You can sleep on my shoulder if you like,’ said Grace.
Pip immediately slumped against her. Henry glanced at him during the film, happily asleep. Because he was such a titch, he looked like a ten-year-old.
At the end of the programme, they managed to sprint out of the au
ditorium before the opening strains of God Save the King, dragging a bleary-eyed Pip after them. While they stood on the steps, Henry formed his fingers into the shape of a viewfinder and peered through them, composing imaginary photographs. He was sweeping his gaze round towards Victoria Road when he spotted a familiar figure leaving Mrs Beaumont’s house by the gate. It was his gran.
‘What’s she doing there?’ he whispered.
And then the penny dropped. His mother must have decided to tell her that Jeffries and his mother had moved in with Mrs Beaumont after all, and Gran had popped in to say hello. She was befriending the Jeffries! From now on, everything was going to be fine. He and his mother had been worried over nothing.
16. Presentation time
‘HELLO THERE!’
Uncle Bill was leaning out of the cab of the train that Henry and Mrs Beaumont and the others had just watched drawing into Hatton Station.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Jeffries.
‘My stepfather,’ mumbled Henry.
‘He’s a train driver,’ breathed Pip with admiration. ‘That’s almost as good as being a projectionist.’
‘Are you Mrs Beaumont?’ Uncle Bill asked.
‘Yes. And you must be Maureen’s husband.’
‘That’s right.’
‘You have Molly’s smile.’
He beamed.
Henry felt irritated by this intrusion, the more so since Mrs Beaumont was being friendly towards Uncle Bill.
‘What brings you here?’ his stepfather asked.
‘Didn’t Henry tell you? We’re waiting for my younger son and some friends from London. They’re bringing old cameras and films for the presentation at Henry’s school.’
Henry was embarrassed. He had told his Uncle Bill as little as possible.
‘I expect he did and I forgot. Are these your friends, Henry?’
Henry nodded.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce them to me?’ asked Uncle Bill.
Henry shrugged, annoyed.
‘This is Roger Jeffries.’
Jeffries gave a wave.
‘This is Pip Morgan. And this is . . . ’
‘Grace,’ Grace blurted out. The boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to add the family disgrace.
‘That’s all,’ she said happily. ‘Grace.’
‘It’s a pity they’re only inviting grandparents and great-grandparents to the presentation,’ Uncle Bill said. ‘Maureen and I would have liked to have seen it.’
‘Really?’ asked Mrs Beaumont, turning to Henry.
‘Yeah.’
‘So your grandmother will be there?’
‘No, she can’t, because of her legs.’ He had been disappointed when she had told him she couldn’t come. He knew she wasn’t upset by him doing the presentation with Jeffries and Pip any more. She was over all that. But it did puzzle him that she had decided to stay at home.
‘Hello there!’ boomed a voice from behind them. ‘Am I glad to see you. We’re carrying a ton weight between us.’
It was Daniel. Behind him were Jessica and Max with two wooden boxes on wheels and heavy leather satchels dangling from their shoulders. The boys ran to their aid.
‘Are you an actor?’ Pip asked Daniel.
‘No.’
‘You sound like one,’ said Pip. ‘You look like one.’
Daniel beamed. ‘I shall take that as a compliment.’
The guard was on the platform with his whistle.
‘Time for me to go!’ yelled Henry’s stepfather, waving. He disappeared from the window and the train pulled out.
‘Leave all the equipment here in the hall for the moment,’ said Mrs Beaumont. ‘After we’ve pushed back the settee and armchairs in the sitting room, you can rehearse in there. Jessica, the piano’s in the room opposite the hall door. I’ll go and make you and the others something to eat. You must be starving.’
‘And parched,’ added her son over the tripod he was assembling.
‘Can I listen to you play, Jessica?’ asked Pip.
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Grace.
Daniel and Max followed Mrs Beaumont down to the kitchen, leaving Henry and Jeffries to push the furniture aside in the sitting room. Henry decided it was a good moment to find out if Jeffries knew anything about his gran’s visit to the house. It had been five days since he had seen her leaving it but neither he nor Mrs Beaumont had mentioned it. It was all a bit odd. He was about to ask Jeffries if there had been any visitors when Mrs Beaumont called up to them.
‘Tea and toast everyone!’ she said.
‘Toast!’ exclaimed Jeffries, and shot out of the room.
‘Blast!’ Henry muttered. He would have to ask him another time. But being left alone with the cameras more than made up for his frustration. He had been eager to have a closer look at them. Staring at them, it was extraordinary to think that someone fifty years ago had actually handled them and had taken the earliest moving films. What sort of camera, he wondered, would a fourteen-year-old boy be holding in 1999? He touched them and then headed for the hallway to join the others. As he ran down the steps towards the kitchen he could hear Jessica playing one of Grace’s favourite songs, It’s Magic.
He found Daniel, Max and Jeffries sitting round the table poring over the film page in the Sternsea Evening News. Mrs Jeffries was putting plates on the table when Jessica appeared. Henry suddenly realised he could still hear the piano. Jeffries looked up, shot Henry a glance and immediately leapt from the table.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Mrs Beaumont, but they had already dashed out of the room.
Up in the hall, Henry flung the study door open.
‘And the next bit goes like this,’ said Grace, who was standing beside Pip. She hummed a melody and Pip played it back.
‘That sounds splendid,’ said Jeffries.
‘Yes, it’s a lovely piano isn’t it?’
It was obvious to Henry that Pip was completely unaware of how good he was and it gave him an idea.
‘Jeffries, how about if Pip plays some of the music for the silent films?’
‘That’s just what I was thinking,’ said Jeffries. ‘Do you think you could, Pip?’
‘Of course he could,’ said Grace.
‘You’re right,’ said Pip, ‘but I’m not allowed to play the school piano.’
‘So where do you practise?’ asked Grace.
‘At the Plaza, early in the morning when no one’s about.’
‘But why haven’t you played on this piano before now?’ asked Jeffries.
‘Because I thought I wouldn’t be allowed to.’
There was a moment of silence.
‘How do you know you can’t play the piano at school?’ said Henry.
‘Mum asked Mr Barratt a long time ago and he said “No”. I told you about it when you came to see me. Remember?’
Henry nodded. That was when he had thought Pip had been refused permission because he was no good. It now dawned on him that the reason Pip wasn’t allowed to play during the interval at the Saturday Morning Pictures was for the same reason he wasn’t in the football team at school.
‘Mr Barratt said I might damage the keys,’ Pip added.
‘But that’s silly!’ Grace protested.
Henry had to control his anger for Pip’s sake.
‘It’ll be dark when people are watching the films,’ he said slowly.
‘You’re right,’ said Pip.
‘So dark Jessica said she would need to ask your Mr Finch for a light above the music,’ said Grace.
‘She and Pip could swap places in the dark after the lights have been turned off! Is that what you’re thinking?’ said Jeffries.
‘Yeah,’ said Henry, and he grinned.
Just then Mrs Beaumont arrived at the door with toast and jam and four cups of tea.
‘The gang’s all here I see,’ she commented. ‘And staying for the duration by the look of it. I guessed you’d pre
fer your tea and toast up here. I have a feeling you have a lot to talk about.’ And she gave them a mischievous smile and left them to it.
They were eating their way through the toast when Jessica and Daniel appeared.
‘Daniel,’ began Henry, ‘we’ve had a change of plan.’
‘Oh, yes?’ he said.
‘But we need Jessica’s help,’ added Jeffries.
‘That’s why I’m here,’ she said.
‘Let’s get started,’ said Daniel. ‘Then you can tell me what you’ve got up your sleeves.’
Daniel placed a small machine on a table in the study.
‘You’ll be pleased to see I’ve managed to get hold of the latest kind of projector,’ he said. ‘A friend has joined up all the little films so that they’re all on one reel. Much less cumbersome.’
Jessica and Max showed Henry and Jeffries how to set up the screen. Pip stood by Daniel’s side watching.
‘I have a feeling you’re the one who’s interested in projectors,’ said Daniel.
‘You’re right!’ said Pip.
‘I’m afraid this is not as exciting as a cinema projector, but if you want to ask me anything, fire away.’
As they rehearsed, Jeffries and Henry took turns to read out information about the films while Pip sat next to Jessica with a torch aimed at the music.
Grace watched, entranced.
‘I know I’ve got homework,’ Henry heard her whisper to Mrs Beaumont, ‘but I wouldn’t miss this for anything.’
Later, Jessica played Blue Moon in a low key and Grace sang. It was strange to think he had once thought her voice had sounded horrible.
‘Wonderful,’ murmured Mrs Beaumont. ‘But I think that’s enough for tonight. Your great-aunt will be on the warpath if you’re not back soon.’
‘You’re right,’ said Grace.
Jeffries and Henry laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ said Grace, puzzled.
‘You sounded just like Pip,’ said Mrs Beaumont.
The following morning Jessica and Daniel arrived in a taxi early in the morning and the boys and Mr Finch helped carry the Victorian cameras, film and projector into the school hall. The film group were going to be the last to perform in the History presentation. Everything seemed to be going well until Mr Finch took Henry aside for a private word. He looked serious.
Just Henry Page 15