Cockney Orphan

by Carol Rivers

  They both nodded, and, as Kevin and Billy were out, they spent the next few hours gossiping in the front room. The news of Jenny and Len’s affair came as a surprise to Ada, and she laughed loudly when Connie told her the story of Mrs English turning up at Dalton’s in her underwear and wanted to know all the details of the missed Christmas party.

  ‘I’d have enjoyed meself all right,’ Ada sighed regretfully. ‘Sounds like you did, even without your Vic.’

  ‘He was in America, wasn’t he?’ Connie was loath to admit she was jealous, but equally reluctant to say she’d let her hair down on the dance floor with Clint. ‘I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and be thought of as a snob,’ she added pointedly.

  At this remark, Ada was silent as she curled her feet under her bottom on the couch. ‘I wished I’d never called you that. It was a bad time for me what with Jean always on my back and Wally ignorant of my presence in his life. It’s no excuse, I know, but when I look back on that time I get a real depressed feeling. Even worse than lately with Freddie.’

  ‘Will you go and see Wally?’

  Ada shook her head. ‘I don’t think he’d appreciate my appearance, do you? One day, though, I’ll tell him I’m sorry.’

  ‘He’d probably have you back. He was crackers over you once.’

  Ada smiled. ‘He’s better off without me. I don’t think I could ever have loved him if our relationship couldn’t survive his family. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and come to the conclusion I need someone strong to boss me round a bit.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  Ada considered this question carefully. ‘Freddie is a womanizer, a liar and a cheat. But he’s also good looking and charming when he wants to be. He knows how to treat a woman when he isn’t pissed.’

  Connie looked shocked. ‘Are you considering going back to him, then?’

  Ada grimaced. ‘Not bloody likely I’m not.’

  ‘What about Dalton’s?’ Connie asked. ‘You could speak to Len and ask him to put in a word with Mr Burns for you.’

  ‘I don’t think I could work in an office again,’ Ada admitted. ‘At least I’ve had a chance to find out how much I hate being cooped up. The only good bit was you and Len and the other girls. I’ll miss all that, but I won’t miss the routine and boredom.’

  ‘What will you do then?’

  Ada drummed her fingers on her knee. ‘I might join the WAAFS or the WVS.’

  Connie laughed. ‘I can’t see you in a uniform.’

  Ada looked offended. ‘I always fancy blokes in them, so why not?’ She threw back her red head. ‘Anyway, I’m footloose and fancy free now. I can please meself.’

  ‘Oh, Ada, you haven’t changed!’

  ‘I don’t think I ever will, Con. I’m too selfish to share my life with someone else. Not like you and Vic. You two was made for each other. You’re one of them couples that will walk off into the sunset holding hands, with the birds and the bees flying around their heads and romantic music playing in the background.’

  ‘Is that what you think love is?’ Connie asked as her fingers turned the slim gold band of her engagement ring.

  ‘On the films it’s always like that.’

  ‘But films are made to make sense of people’s lives,’ Connie said as she tried to think of how to express her views. ‘They always come to a satisfactory end, even if it’s sad. But in reality life just goes on, taking you with it through all the ups and downs. And if you love someone enough, you hang on through it all.’

  Ada looked sad. ‘Do you think I should have hung on with Wally?’

  ‘Only if you loved him.’

  ‘Maybe I would have if I’d tried harder.’

  Connie lifted her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  Ada was silent until she giggled softly. ‘Well, that definition of love certainly don’t match up to mine.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘To be honest, I only get as far as a bit of slap and tickle.’

  They both collapsed into fits of laughter and were making so much noise they almost didn’t hear the knock.

  ‘Someone’s at the front door.’ Connie pulled herself up, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes as she went into the hall.

  ‘Thank God you’re in,’ Pat gulped breathlessly, her cardigan open and her chest rising heavily under her frock. ‘I dunno what I’d have done if you wasn’t.’

  Connie looked over her shoulder. ‘Where are the kids?’

  ‘I’ve left them with Eve Beale.’

  Connie gently pulled her in. ‘What’s wrong.’

  Pat leaned against the wall. Her brown hair was sweat laden and her eyes looked strangely bright. ‘It’s Gran. She got a telegram.’ Pat licked her dry lips. ‘I’m sorry to tell you this, Con, but it said that Vic is missing. I thought at first it might be Laurie – oh God, I nearly died. I only got a letter from him last week, too. Then when it said Vic’s name I just couldn’t believe it either.’

  Connie stared into Pat’s face. ‘Vic is missing?’ she repeated numbly.

  ‘When Gran was reading it, she kind of, well, keeled over. It was awful. Terrible. She was lying on the floor and me and the kids were screaming and Albie rushed in and then Eve—’

  Ada appeared from the front room. ‘Hello, Pat. Did I hear Vic’s name mentioned?’

  Pat nodded. ‘Gran got a telegram . . . it said he’s gone missing.’

  Connie felt the same sinking sensation she’d had on the day they took Lucky. ‘What about Gran?’ she asked in barely a whisper.

  ‘I don’t know – the doctor’s come and she’s in bed.’ She began to sob.

  ‘I’ll get my coat and come with you.’

  ‘Me too,’ Ada said quickly. ‘Can I borrow a skirt or something, Con? I’ve only got my blue dress.’

  ‘Look in the wardrobe and take what you want.’

  Ten minutes later they were all hurrying towards East Ferry Road.

  Gran was trying to see where she was. She didn’t recognize this place. Where was she? It was nice and light, no dark shadows or cobwebby ceilings. The thought reminded her that her own ceilings needed dusting and briefly she felt a wave of tiredness, an inner tiredness that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She used to have plenty of energy before the war. It was as if the enemy hadn’t just dropped bombs, but sapped people’s spirits, too. Even Albie said that lately he’d been nodding off over his pint at the Queens. Funny, she couldn’t see Albie now, yet he was here a minute ago. Where was Pat and the kids? The house felt empty without them. But, then, this wasn’t her house, was it?

  She looked around again. Slowly, the light grew even brighter and a warm upliftment filled her. Like . . . like being young again. Yes, that was it! The sense of wonder when you looked up into an endless blue sky, or breathed in the change between seasons. Or when you paddled in the river mud and squeezed it between your toes. There was so much to discover when the tide went out.

  Bobby was best at mudlarking. Her elder brother had the biggest feet in the family, with long, curling toes like the beak of bird. He used them to find treasures in the warm, black silt. There he was now, barefoot. Ribbons of black hair running wild down his shoulders. Trousers rolled up around his ankles, braces knotted, shirt patched and darned. Gran waved.

  ‘Well, if it ain’t me kid sister, Alice!’ He slapped a muddy hand on her shoulder. ‘Where’ve you been all this time?’

  Gran shook her head. ‘To be honest, I don’t know where I’ve been.’

  ‘Blimey, you lost yer memory, then?’

  Gran studied him closely. ‘Bobby, you don’t look a day older than when you—’ she stopped as her brother nodded.

  ‘It was the current that did for me, gel. One minute I was swimming south towards Greenwich, the next I was on me way out to sea.’

  Gran felt sad. ‘We missed you. Especially Mother.’

  Bobby nodded. ‘She tanned my hide till I could barely walk when she found ou
t what me and the other boys was doing. But a hiding never made no difference and I still went ahead and did it.’

  ‘You should have listened to her, Bobby.’

  ‘Yeah, but a dare was a dare, see? We all wanted to be first over. Course, I’ve swum the river hundreds of time since. Look, I’ll show you.’ Laughing, he ran into the grey, murky water.

  Gran felt a moment’s unease. ‘Bobby, come back!’ she called.

  ‘It’s all right, you can do anything you want to now.’ He began to swim and something told Gran there was nothing to worry about any more.

  She walked along the shore and saw a group of figures. Wasn’t that Mother and Dad, her sisters and brothers, too?

  A soldier, ramrod straight in his uniform, stepped out of their midst and strode towards her.

  ‘Why, Alice.’ He smiled, taking her hands. ‘You’re here!’

  ‘Maurice?’

  ‘I’ve been waiting for so long, my darling. We all have.’

  Gran was perplexed. She was normally so punctual. ‘I would have come sooner if I’d known the time.’

  He gently touched her face. A feeling of great peace descended. The light was so beautiful, filling the figures surrounding her until they almost glowed. If she didn’t know better, she would have said they were angels.

  A young man appeared. He touched her shoulder. ‘Mother?’

  She squinted through the brightness. ‘Freddie? Is it really you, son? Or am I dreaming?’ A little flutter, like the tips of birds’ wings, troubled her tummy. ‘I can’t see properly.’

  ‘You will. Step forward. It’s easy.’

  Gran tried to but something held her back. ‘What’s wrong with me, Maurice?’ She wanted to go towards the light not back into the dark from where she had started.

  ‘There’s something you still have to do,’ he whispered.

  ‘But what is it?’ she cried. ‘I’ve forgotten what it is.’

  They all stood around her then, her family, her bloodline, bathed in a radiance that she yearned to be part of. She had been seeing these lights all her life and didn’t know what they were until now. What a discovery to make so late in life! She wouldn’t have ever doubted if she’d known there really was a stairway to heaven.

  As she thought of the word heaven, a great force gripped her. She was swept away, sucked into a vacuum, returned to the darkness again. She had so wanted to stay. Why couldn’t she see or move? Why had the light faded and left her stranded like this?

  A voice called her. She moved, a little clumsily, towards it. Then she felt the power of those who loved her, willing her on through the pain. And suddenly, with perfect clarity, she recalled exactly what she had returned for.

  Dr Deakin took Connie aside. ‘I’ve done all I can. She’s very weak, but she’s holding on, though for how long I can’t say. In my opinion, it would be better for her to remain at home than be moved to hospital.’

  ‘Isn’t there something you can do?’

  He smiled gently. ‘If there was, I would have done it by now.’

  Connie looked at the bed. Pat was sitting beside it holding Gran’s hand. Gran looked very peaceful, but small, as if she had shrunk to half her size since yesterday.

  ‘Can she hear us?’ Connie asked.

  The doctor nodded. ‘Most certainly. She’s drifting in and out of consciousness but she may not be able to respond clearly.’ He took his case. ‘I’ll come immediately if you send for me, otherwise I’ll call first thing in the morning.’

  Connie saw him out. She returned to the kitchen, where Ada was making tea.

  ‘What did he say?’

  Connie told her.

  Ada sat down with a sigh. ‘What can we do to help?’

  ‘Nothing, I don’t think.’

  ‘How’s Pat?’

  ‘She’s taking it hard. I’ve left her to have a bit of time alone.’

  ‘Course,’ Ada said quietly, then looked at Connie. ‘The telegram’s in the front room. I saw it lying on the table.’

  Connie nodded silently. She didn’t want to go in there to read it.

  ‘Want me to come with you?’

  ‘No, it’s all right.’

  She went into the front room. It was as it always was, neat and tidy, smelling of lavender and ash. The only disturbance was the fireguard standing to one side of the grate, a brush and pan beside it. Gran must have been cleaning it when the telegram arrived.

  An envelope lay on the table, a loose sheet of paper beside it. Connie seated herself on the dining chair. She stared at the odd-shaped letters that looked as if they’d been cut from the newspaper.

  ‘Priority: Mrs Alice Champion.’ Connie’s heart raced as her eyes moved down the page. ‘. . .deeply regret to inform you . . . your grandson . . . Lieutenant Victor Champion . . . missing as a result of combined operations, Sicily 6–10 June 1943 STOP Any further information forwarded to you immediately STOP Pending receipt of written notification from the Admiralty STOP.’

  She read it once more. ‘Missing as a result of combined operations.’ What did that mean? If someone went missing, where did they go?

  Suddenly Pat rushed in, her eyes wide and staring. ‘Gran’s awake! She’s trying to speak.’

  They both ran into the bedroom. Pat stood as if in a dream, then began to sob. Connie sat on the edge of the bed. She took Gran’s hand. It felt smaller than ever, as delicate as paper.

  ‘Gran, it’s me, Connie. Pat’s here too.’

  Gran’s short, black eyelashes fluttered on her cheek. She mumbled and Connie leaned closer.

  ‘I’m here, Gran. Pat and me are with you.’

  Frail fingers tightened across her thumb. ‘He’s not on the other side, girl. I looked.’

  ‘Looked for who, Gran?’

  A smile flickered on her lips. Connie watched her facial expressions change, saw her skin soften over the round bone of her cheeks and smooth out across her forehead. She looked almost transparent, as though she was made of glass. ‘I saw everyone else, Mother and Dad, Maurice and Freddie, too. Bobby was in the river, swimming the Reach . . .’

  ‘That was a lovely dream.’

  Gran’s eyes flickered open. ‘You’ve got lovely lights again, all pink and blue with a bit of orange and purple, exactly the way they should be.’

  Connie squeezed the tiny hand tight. For a moment she thought Gran was going to speak, but her eyes closed. She looked serene and peaceful and when the last breath slipped from her lips Connie thought she was witness to the face of a young girl, at the beginning of life, not at the end of it.

  ‘Gran?’ Pat dropped to her knees beside the bed.

  ‘She’s at rest now, Pat. I know she is.’ Connie reached out, pulling Pat against her to absorb the sobs.

  Then despite the overcast sky outside it was as if the sun broke through the clouds and spilled a lustrous glow of golden lights across the bed.

  Even Pat, in her deep distress, seemed to sense it. Her weeping ceased and the smell of the river’s mud washed into the room. In the distance they heard children’s voices and the echo of a ship’s horn, making headway against the tide and ploughing out to the wide open spaces of the sea.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gran was buried in East London Cemetery on a fine September morning. The burial plot was marked by a mossy green headstone bearing the names of her husband, Maurice, her son, Frederick, and his wife, Josephine. The cost of the interment was borne by Gran’s thriftiness, an insurance she had maintained since her husband died in the war. Her friends and neighbours attended, most of whom had lived in East Ferry Road or somewhere close by for as long as they could remember. Alice Ethel Champion had lived sixty-eight years of a full and productive life and Connie knew that Gran would want her passing celebrated rather than mourned.

  Albie Cross paid tribute to her at the graveside. ‘Not a churchgoer, nor a do-gooder, nor a bible-basher. But to my mind there’s not anyone in church of a Sunday that could hold a candle to Alice Champion.’<
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  ‘She was generous to a fault,’ Eve Beale agreed. ‘And wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. She was an honest woman and a brave one. I’m proud to have been called her friend. I know the only favour she’d ask of us now is to look out for the family she left behind.’

  All heads turned to Pat, who stood lost in grief, her white face devoid of make-up under a small black hat. Connie carried Lawrence in her arms, whilst Doris held her mother’s hand.

  The gathering returned to East Ferry Road, where Connie and Ada had prepared the buffet. With shortages as they were, everyone donated rations. Gran’s butcher provided the bacon and ham for the thin-cut sandwiches. The eggs came courtesy of her favoured stall at Cox Street market and cheese, tea and beer appeared from behind the counter of the Queens in Manchester Road.

  Connie saw to it that no one was excluded, as Gran would have wished. As evening drew near, the gathering dispersed. Ada washed the kids’ mucky faces and put them to bed.

  When Connie joined her in the bedroom, Doris was already asleep. Ada was changing Lawrence’s nappy.

  ‘How’s Pat?’ she asked as Connie sat beside her on the bed.

  ‘I think she wants to be alone,’ Connie sighed. ‘So I’ve left her doing the dishes.’

  ‘What will she do without Gran, I wonder?’

  Connie shrugged. ‘There’s a big gap in her life.’

  ‘Has she got any money?’

  ‘Gran left her some to tide her over and there’s Laurie’s army allowance.’

  ‘Will the landlord let her stay?’

  ‘If she can pay the rent, I don’t see why not.’

  Ada did up the last two buttons of Lawrence’s nightgown. She placed him in Connie’s arms. ‘Take him. I know you’re dying to have a cuddle.’

  Connie rocked him gently. ‘He’s a lovely baby and never cries. Lucky was the same, a happy baby for all he’d been through.’ She felt the tears prick behind her lids.

  ‘You still miss him, don’t you?’

  ‘I just hope they love him as much as I do.’