“Come in, Gerry,” Derek called.
“Oh. I mistimed it again!” Gerry joked and, with a wink, he went to join Derek.
Derek was in the small living room, where a fire burned sluggishly. The room looked bare and Gerry realised that there were no curtains up at the windows.
Derek was re-reading a letter from his bank, the same bank for whom Gerry had once worked. He looked worried. He always had ready cash in his pocket for when an opportunity for making a few pounds presented itself, but the business was on the level. The business was for Paul when he had finished college and at present the business was not looking very good. Something had to be done, and fast.
“If you’ve called for the bit of farm butter I promised your mother you’re out of luck,” Derek said at once. “Got caught in a line of cars being stopped by the police on the way back from the farmer and I had to throw it all into a ditch. Three pound down I was on that little lot. This hasn’t been a very good week, boy.”
“It wasn’t about the butter, I just want a general chat,” Gerry smiled. “Fancy chucking good money away. That must have hurt!”
“Well, yes. I’ll have to charge more for the next lot, of course. Now, is everyone all right after the raid?” he asked gesturing to a chair for Gerry to sit beside him and putting the letter into an inside pocket. “We had no damage here but everything stinks of smoke. Shirley’s been cleaning everything to get rid of it: carpets, lino, the lot’s been up-ended and scrubbed. She’s washing curtains now and she won’t put them out to dry for fear of the smell getting in them again.” In an enamel bowl on a chair, neatly folded, were some wet curtains.
“I’m just going down the shops, Derek love,” Shirley called then popped her head around the door. She had added a short, off-white coat to the skirt and jumper, and a pair of high-heeled white shoes, unsuitable for the damp dirty pavements of the town. “I won’t be long. Make you both a cup of tea when I get back, shall I?”
“We’ve been bombed out, Derek,” Gerry said when Shirley had left. “Mam’s all right and my clothes survived although they’ve all gone to be cleaned, but the house isn’t safe to occupy. Mam’s gone to live with that sister of hers, of all people. Pity the bombs managed to miss her! Offered me a room next to hers would you believe! Don’t want a lodger, do you?” He was joking, but in his eyes there was a slight hint of optimism that Derek quickly squashed.
“No chance,” Derek replied. “Shirley has enough to do looking after Paul and me. And I wouldn’t trust you under the same roof as my wife!” He stared at Gerry and asked. “Will it be for long d’you think? I mean, will the house be habitable again soon? If it’s only for a few weeks, you can cope with old-Megan-the-Magistrate-Court, can’t you?”
“A day would be too long there! An hour was enough for me! No, I’m wondering if I should ask Fanny if I can stay with her.”
“At the bakery? Well, there’s plenty of room the boys being away, and it makes sense, you working there. God knows, we bakers start early in the mornings. You wouldn’t have any excuse for over-sleeping mind! I hear that you often arrive after the first baking is almost ready to eat.”
“Who told you that? Gilly, I bet! Puts years on me that girl. Always snooping about and listening to what she shouldn’t hear and decking to old Jenkins.” He paused and looked at Derek. “Derek, I’m thinking of marrying Fanny.”
“Why?”
“Debts mainly. I just think that unless I do something soon, someone will let her know about the money I owe and my chance will be gone.”
“Could you stay with one woman, Gerry?”
“In a word, no,” Gerry grinned.
“You think you can carry on with the likes of Maisie Boxmoor and her not guessing?”
“I have for all this time. Why should marriage change things? A very accommodating woman is Fanny.”
“You’d have that Gilly for a step-daughter. Wouldn’t it spoil your youthful, man-about-town style to have a daughter of nearly seventeen?”
“Yes, there’s Gilly. Puts me off proper she does.”
“Handy though, you having shares in the firm like. Perhaps you’ll play a few more tricks like asking for payment more than once and pass a few more customers my way.”
“What d’you mean?” Gerry stood up and an expression of outrage flooded his handsome features. “Are you suggesting I’m dishonest?”
“No, no,” Derek smiled but the smile was mirthless. “Only, a bit forgetful when it comes to other peoples’ money. That was why you lost your job at the bank, wasn’t it? Being forgetful with other peoples’ money?”
“Who told you that? I’ll sue for defamation of character! I’ll—”
“Shut up,” Derek drawled almost lazily. “It’s me you’re talking to now. I’ve known you since you were a snottynosed kid scrounging sweets and pinching pocket money. Always had money troubles you have, Gerry Daniels, and you always will.”
Gerry stood up, his face suffused with red. He was the picture of offended outrage.
“I left my job and the bank because with their brothers fighting and their father ill, Fanny and Bessie were in difficulties. I—”
“Tell that to the fairies! You were sacked for forgetting to enter payments into bank books and pocketing the money. Little dribs and drabs was all it was and you chose your victims well, boy. You picked on the sort who were too afraid of banks and their pompous personnel to dare to argue or even to query their statements. And worse, you cheated those who were too old and sick and vague to really know. The sort of people we should protect, some would say.”
“It isn’t true.”
“You’re a handsome bugger, Gerry Daniels, and I fancy a bit of fiddling myself. Now if you were to marry Fanny you and I could do a few deals to the benefit of us both.”
Gerry sat down and stared at Derek. “What are you talking about?” Gerry was still outraged but interest was gleaming in his dark velvety eyes.
“I’m in difficulties like you and there’s them Jenkinses with more than they need. If you would help me, we could share things out a bit more fairly. What d’you say?”
Gerry said nothing but sat, tight-jawed, waiting for Derek to continue. The less he said the better after Derek’s accusations, he decided.
“It’s Shirley.”
“What is?” Gerry frowned.
“The reason for my financial embarrassment. She’s extravagant you see, loves nice things and won’t consider whether or not we can afford them. Brought up to have everything she wanted and I’ll continue to indulge her no matter what I have to do, mind. She’s… important to me. I could do with expanding and at the moment, with all the restrictions and rationing and everything, it isn’t easy. The cakes we bake contain less and less fat and eggs, and I’ve stretched the recipies as far as I can to make extra. I’ve bought food stolen from the Ministry of Food’s stores and a high price I’ve had to pay, but I still can’t make enough money. And what I have to pay for black-market petrol.
“All this isn’t easy to explain to my Shirley. She thinks money is for spending and the source of it will never dry up. She’s the sort to think buying six sheets for a few shillings reduction is a bargain not to be missed, even when we already have about thirty sheets upstairs not yet used.”
“What d’you think I can do about it?” Gerry murmured.
“What I have in mind is something that will help us both. First of all, do what you say and marry Fanny.”
“Marriage, it’s a big step.”
“Come on, Gerry, you’ve often said that’s what you’ll do to ensure a safe and comfortable future. It isn’t as if the trusting Fanny will watch your every move or inhibit your fun and games.”
“How will my marrying Fanny help you? It won’t do anything to change your situation that’s for sure, at least, not for a long time. And with the three brothers to come home, and Bessie, there won’t be much I can do to send business your way, if that’s what you have in mind.”
“I
intend to buy out Jenkins and Son sooner or later. It’s the only way I can expand. Besides, sinking the Jenkins’ is something I’ve promised myself since I was a boy. With us working together it will be sooner.”
Derek watched as Gerry considered the idea and added softly, “I’ll give you two hundred and fifty now, in cash, so you can pay your debts and,” he waited until Gerry looked at him before continuing, “and perhaps give something to Marigold to help with the baby she’ll have to bring up on her own.”
“You know about that?”
“I know. Marigold is a friend of Shirley’s, brought up together they were.”
“If you know, perhaps others do?” He shifted anxiously in his chair. “If Fanny found out—”
“She won’t.” He could see from Gerry’s face he was convinced. “My Shirley and Marigold are friends, see. Brought up together as close as sisters. Did you know it was my Shirley and Marigold that persuaded Marigold’s father not to prosecute you for the – er – discrepancies at the bank? That was before Marigold realised she was expecting, mind. Perhaps things would have been very different if she’d known before.”
As Derek unfolded the large, white five pound notes from the thick fold taken from a cash-box, Gerry began to relax. The prospect of marrying Fanny wasn’t such a gloomy one, he had been approaching that decision himself for some time.
He knew that Derek, knowing so much about him, could be a dangerous ally, but he was never a person to think more than one move ahead. Sort out today and let tomorrow shift for itself was his recipe for life. The thought that the future could be a net spreading itself to catch all the problems of the past was not enough to keep him from sleeping at night. He had a way with him. And a way with people, both men and women, was a useful gift to have been born with. So far it had stood him in good stead, so why should it not continue?
The men continued to talk and they didn’t hear Shirley come in and run upstairs with the new curtains and other things she had bought. Once she had taken the old ones down and seen how they had faded in the sun she just had to go out and buy replacements. She’d hang them up while Derek was at the bakery in the morning and he’d never notice they weren’t the same ones. Not ’til the end of the month, when the bill for them came in.
In a shopping basket she also had a new winter dress in cherry coloured wool, a skirt and two new jumpers; and some silk stockings – a small present for Gilly whose seventeenth birthday was in December. She had also bought her a suspender belt so the girl didn’t have to keep pulling on her stockings and hitching up the elastic bands that held them in place. She knew this would be appreciated. Gilly was at an age when the transition from child to young woman was painful and made doubly difficult by her mother’s determination to keep her looking like a child. She smiled as she re-wrapped her purchases in tissue paper and imagined the delight on Gilly’s face.
She had bought three pairs of stockings for herself, too. They were so beautiful and if, as some suspected, clothes became rationed, a good stock of the basics was excellent sense and not an extravagance at all. But she still hid them at the back of her underwear drawer. Derek might not understand and there was no point in worrying him unnecessarily. She had stood in a queue at a street stall where some white china was being sold. She didn’t really need it but who knew how long the war would continue? She carefully stored it in a cupboard in the front room. Best Derek didn’t see it just yet. Men fussed so unnecessarily about money, she smiled.
When Gerry had gone Derek went to see some of the victims of the air-raid. After showing as much sympathy as he was capable of, he offered to buy some of the remaining furniture and items for cash. He explained that he understood their need for ready money to see them through this difficult time and felt it his duty to help where he could.
The clocks, pictures, silver ornaments, desks and chairs were stacked in one of the out-houses behind the bakehouse in Bread Street and securely locked. Tomorrow he would telephone the dealer in Bristol.
* * *
Gerry took Fanny to see the cracked and shattered walls of his house and, ignoring the KEEP OUT notice, they stepped through the opening where there had once been a front door and looked at the rubble-filled space. The furniture that hadn’t been damaged had been removed and stored in a neighbour’s shed. What was left was matchwood no longer recognisable as the highly polished and cared for home his mother had tended for years.
“I can’t live near that old drunken aunt of mine, Fanny,” he said sorrowfully. “Can you imagine, my dear, me in one room with no bathroom and a shared lavatory? It’s impossible. I’d rather die. It’s embarrassing enough for people to know she’s my aunt without me sharing the same house. Do you think you and Bessie could find me a bed, just until I find somewhere suitable? I know it’s a cheek, but I’ll pay a fair rent and, well, it would be handy, me being there for when I do the early shift, won’t it? Handy, too,” he added more softly, “when you and I want to spend a little time together. It’s been difficult up to now with Mam at my place and your family at yours.” He leaned over and touched her cheek with his lips, then, as she turned, he kissed her lips, opening their coats and pressing his body against her. He smiled down at her then rolled his eyes at the scene around them. “What a place to steal a kiss. Just think, it’s only at the cinema and in back lanes walking home that I get the chance to kiss you. Sharing the same house might make things far easier for us, Fanny. Life could be very exciting if you can persuade your sister.”
“I’ll talk to Bessie and Dad,” Fanny promised breathlessly. But the glow in her eyes told Gerry he was there. Fanny wanted him so much that she would out-argue Bessie and a dozen like her if necessary. He pulled her close to him in the bomb-wrecked house and kissed her again.
The first step was taken and it had been so easy. His fore-finger and thumb smoothed back his moustache and he ran his fingers through his sleek hair, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
“Fanny, love, will you excuse me if I go back to talk to Mam? I have to make her see that I’m not abandoning her. I don’t want her hurt or offended. She’s just lost her home.”
“Of course, I understand. Shall I come with you?”
“No, dear, you go and talk to your sister and your Dad. It will be another step towards you and me becoming – us.” He whispered the word close to her ear and touched his lips to her neck.
It was beginning to rain. Cold drops stung their faces as they emerged from the rubble-strewn building and Gerry opened his umbrella and offered her his arm. Smiling up at him, her face aglow, she gripped his arm tightly and daringly offered her lips for a last brief furtive kiss. They stepped over the piled up stones and broken wood and, back on the road, they walked slowly, close together until their paths divided and she hurried home to tell Bessie and her father of Gerry’s request.
Gerry watched her go, a not unattractive woman, adoring enough to be good company and, more importantly, someone he could mould into what he required of a wife. His face wore a satisfied smile as he set off to see his latest girlfriend, Mona Goodright, who worked shifts at the munitions factory and would be just coming home to bathe and sleep.
* * *
One result of the air-raid that shattered the windows of Bread Street was the death of Nathaniel Green, Derek’s father and one time rival of Granfer. He suffered a heart-attack and died a few days later. His son, Derek, hadn’t seen him for several months.
Derek’s first action on hearing the news was to phone the solicitor to see if there was any money for him to inherit. There was none and Derek silently criticised his father’s carelessness. The bake-house was rented, the goods received and now due for payment were a constant source of worry, yet he couldn’t put the spare money he had hidden away into the business, it was money he wasn’t supposed to have. It wasn’t enough anyway but the tax inspectors would soon come sniffing around to find out where it came from. Besides, even the little ready cash had trickled to a stop after buying Gerry’s support an
d settling Shirley’s accounts. He just had to hope that with Gerry helping he could come up with a quick solution to his problems.
Granfer seemed surprisingly alarmed at the news of the demise of his rival. Gilly thought he was over-reacting and wondered why.
“What is it, Granfer? Why are you so sad? Are you sorry for the years you didn’t speak to each other? D’you wish you’d made up your quarrel about Granny Jenkins?”
“Find out if he left any letters will you? I want to know if he – what he says about me.”
“Why should he say anything about you?” Gilly laughed, but she promised to find out what she could.
Paul wasn’t in when she called at the Green’s house but she returned from there with a letter addressed to Granfer in spidery writing. Granfer took it from her then ushered her away so he could read it in peace.
The letter made the colour fade from his cheeks and his heart jumped alarmingly in his chest.
I never forgave you for taking Milly from me, you old devil, but I had the last laugh. For three wonderful months Milly was mine once more. Take a note of the date and squirm. Milly and I were “together”. I don’t need to spell it out to an old reprobate like you, do I. We were “together” in the spring of 1904, while you were recovering from that motor-bike accident. Remember? Yes, your Sam might not be your Sam, after all. So much like me, isn’t he? Big and strong, not following you at all, dwtty little titch that you are.
It was a long time before Granfer read the rest of the spiteful letter and when he did, it was with greater sadness. Old Nathaniel reminded him of something in his own past he preferred not to remember. But receiving the note from the now deceased man he wondered if he, too, should leave information on his indiscretion for others to learn after his death. The way he felt now, that might not be very long. He sat for a long time with the pain in his chest increasingly hard to bear, thinking of Sam, the son of whom he had been most proud. Damn it, why did it have to be Sam, why couldn’t it have been Ivor? He leaned over and banged weakly on the floor with his stick to summon Fanny. He needed to see the doctor with some urgency.
Family Pride Page 10