by Louise Hare
‘Ha! That’s one word for it.’ He tweaked one of the triangles. ‘I s’pose it’s better than the bare walls.’
They’d managed to keep the kitchen clean though it still had a look of condemnation about it. On the table were laid out a mismatched array of mugs and chipped glasses along with three bottles of gin and a bottle of orange cordial. Beneath she could see a couple of crates full of pale ale. Lawrie fixed her and Delia both a gin and orange and she took a polite sip, hoping her grimace came out as a smile. As long as she only drank a tiny bit she’d be fine.
Sam, Johnny and Moses were out in the backyard already, setting up for the band to perform, Sam wolf whistling when he saw Delia, who blushed, flattered.
‘If I might be so bold, I reckon I already spotted the finest-lookin’ girl of the night,’ he said.
Lawrie kissed his teeth softly. ‘Come on now, is that any way to talk? Be a gentleman.’
‘Nothin’ more gentlemanly than showing appreciation for a lady,’ Sam argued.
‘You don’t mind him.’ Moses spoke softly but moved swiftly to Delia’s side. ‘He got no manners but I can show you round.’
Evie took another sip of her drink and watched as Delia and Moses walked off together to the other side of the yard, Sam looking mildly perturbed. He caught Evie watching him and winked. He seemed a nice chap, funny.
‘I thought this was s’posed to be a party?’
Evie turned to see a stranger walk into the yard from the kitchen.
‘I thought you were s’posed to get here three hours ago,’ Lawrie shot back, his eyebrow raised high as he smiled broadly at the newcomer who had cast such aspersions on their festivities.
Shorter than Lawrie by a couple of inches, this man wore a Forces uniform and carried a bag over his shoulder. He met her curious gaze and smiled.
‘I don’t believe we’ve met. Aston Bayley.’ He held his hand out.
So this was Lawrie’s best friend. A ladykiller, he’d called him. She could see that was true already.
‘Evie Coleridge.’ She shook his hand. ‘Lawrie’s told me all about you.’
‘Oh really?’ Aston raised an eyebrow in Lawrie’s direction.
‘He told me you’ve been like an older brother to him,’ she clarified.
‘I do my best.’ Aston took off his cap and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Evie. Now, I been hours on a hot an’ crowded train to get here. Anything to drink?’
They told her they were just warming up but Evie was mesmerised by the performance the band put on – just for her, Delia and Aston until a few guests began to arrive. Delia had been asking questions about Moses but Evie really had only met him the once before. Anyone would be better than Lennie, though, she pointed out. Delia had almost smiled at that. A few more men wandered into the yard, most of them looking at the girls with interest but Evie just smiled politely and sipped her drink. Delia got up when a good-looking stranger came up and asked her to dance but Evie shook her head whenever an offer came her way. She was there for Lawrie. What would he think if he looked up and saw her dancing with some other chap? When Aston asked if she wanted a second, then a third drink, she said yes. The taste was growing on her and she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t used to drinking. They sat on the old crates and talked a little but mainly listened to the music. Evie leaned against the brick wall, her back soaking up the last of the day’s warmth. She felt relaxed and happy.
‘So when you meet Lawrie?’ Aston asked.
‘I met him on Clapham Common,’ she told him. ‘And then we ran into each other by accident at the pictures. We’ll be next-door neighbours as of tomorrow.’
‘Is that so?’ Aston offered her a cigarette and Evie hesitated before taking one. ‘You a good girl, Evie?’
She frowned. ‘I have smoked before.’ One cigarette, stolen from Delia’s sister Susie’s handbag.
He pulled out an engraved silver lighter, flicking it into life and holding it out for her. ‘What age are you?’
‘Sixteen.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Your mother knows you’re out? Drinkin’ and smokin’? You do this every weekend?’
‘No!’ Now she was caught between the truth, which made her seem too young, and a lie, that would make her look loose. ‘Actually, my mother doesn’t know I’m here. She’s gone out though so as long as I’m home before she is…’
‘You lied to your mother?’ She couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disapproving.
‘I never have before but I wanted to see Lawrie.’ She stared into her glass, the gin acting like truth serum. She shouldn’t drink any more.
Lawrie came over then and rescued her. ‘I see you two are getting along.’
‘Evie was just tellin’ me you goin’ be her new next-door neighbour,’ Aston said. ‘I never knew you was movin’.’
‘It only happen’ yesterday,’ Lawrie explained. ‘Don’t worry. My new landlady says you can stay on the floor of my room if you get stuck for somewhere to stay. As long as it’s not for too long.’
‘Mrs Ryan is ever so kind,’ Evie said. ‘And her house is a lot nicer than this one.’
‘Any house is nicer than this one.’
They all turned as Rose pushed through the growing crowd. She looked out of place, far too glamorous for the backyard of an almost derelict house. She made Evie feel dowdy, even as dressed up as she was. Perfect porcelain skin, blemish free, lips drawn red in a perfect bow.
‘You weren’t expecting me,’ she said, looking at Lawrie.
Aston’s laugh broke the awkward silence. ‘Come on, let’s fetch these ladies a drink.’ He took Evie’s glass and pushed Lawrie towards the house.
‘I didn’t know you’d be here, Evie.’ Rose took the spot vacated by Aston. ‘Are you here with Sam?’
‘No. Lawrie invited me.’
‘Did he now?’ Evie could have sworn that Rose’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve another ciggie?’
‘Sorry. Aston gave me this one.’ Evie offered the cigarette but Rose shook her head and laughed.
‘Oh no, darling, I don’t share. Not with anyone.’
Evie didn’t know what to say.
‘So you’ve been spending time with Lawrie, have you?’ Rose asked.
‘A little. We went to the pictures on Wednesday.’ She hated how young she sounded. Children went to the pictures. Adults like Rose went out for dinner and drinks. Rose was probably too sophisticated to be impressed with an ice at the interval the way Evie had been.
‘He’s a busy boy, isn’t he? He came round to mine only the day after that.’
To her house? He must have popped round on band business. ‘I know the band appreciate you taking their messages.’
‘Messages?’ Rose laughed. ‘Amongst other things. I mean, why else does a young man call on a woman during the day when her husband’s out at work.’ She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Evie. ‘I shouldn’t be saying this out loud but it’s best you know now. I can see that you’ve got a crush on him but you’re too young, Evie. Barely out of school. And it’s like they say, all blokes want one thing. Lawrie certainly didn’t say no.’
Evie just stared, not ready to believe what Rose was telling her.
‘Oh, goodness, I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?’ Rose’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling another mean laugh. ‘I know, I’m a married woman. ’Til death do us part and all that. I just couldn’t help myself. One day you might understand.’
‘You and Lawrie…?’ Evie couldn’t say it, looked across to the kitchen door where the man in question was emerging with Aston, deep in conversation.
He’d kissed her. Only on the cheek, but she’d taken it as a sign of his intent towards her. That he respected her and wanted to do things the right way. But all the time he’d been playing with her. He didn’t need Evie when he had Rose.
‘I’m sorry, Evie, I didn’t think you’d be this upset.’ Rose reached across and brushed a tear from
Evie’s cheek.
Evie flinched. ‘Get off me.’
Had they lain there afterwards and laughed as they wondered how to let her down gently? Had Lawrie only been kind to her because she’d offered to find him somewhere better to live? Once his feet were under the table at Mrs Ryan’s might he have told her that he was sorry, that she wasn’t for him?
Her head was spinning, her body swaying as she stood up and the gin made its effect known. The back gate was blocked now, people crowded into the yard waiting for the band to start playing once more. Delia was nowhere to be seen. She’d have to go out the front. She stumbled towards the house, walking straight into Lawrie as he came out of the back door.
‘Evie?’ His face changed as he saw the tears streaming down her face. ‘Wait up.’
‘Leave me alone,’ she shouted over her shoulder.
She elbowed her way through the kitchen and into the hallway only to find another knot of guests blocking the front door. Alcohol clouding her judgement, she made for the stairs, not stopping until she reached the top of the house, nowhere else to run.
She backed into a corner as Lawrie walked up the last few steps slowly. ‘Whatever she said to you, I can explain.’
‘Too late for that.’ Sam was her unexpected hero, appearing from behind Lawrie. ‘I warned you. You should never have gone near that whore’s house.’ He shoved Lawrie into the wall, hard, taking him by surprise. Taking Evie by the hand he pulled her into the bedroom to her left. ‘Come on.’
He slammed the door and turned the key, Lawrie’s body smashing against it as he did so. They stood there in silence as Lawrie raged against Sam, Evie not able to pick out all the words, though Sam did. He had a huge grin on his face. Anger turned to pleading on the other side of the door and then Evie heard Aston’s voice, calming his friend.
There was one last bang on the door. ‘I’ll come back,’ Lawrie promised. ‘I can explain, Evie. I promise I can.’
Once he was gone she felt easier, able to survey her surroundings. This was a room of two halves, two narrow beds taking up most of the room. One was neatly made and the other was not, its sheets untucked and twisted. She sat on the made bed.
‘Is this your bedroom?’ she asked.
Sam nodded. ‘And Lawrie’s.’
She could guess that it was Lawrie’s bed she had sat on, but she didn’t want to offend Sam by saying anything.
‘I thought you two were friends?’
‘Not any more. Not since he decided to leave me in the lurch. He tell you that? I can’ afford to pay for this room on my own but he don’t care. He don’t care ’bout no one but himself.’ He sat next to her on the bed.
The room was stuffy despite the open window and it smelled rancid, like unwashed clothes and gone-off milk. Evie tried to take shallow breaths.
‘I should go.’ She made to stand.
‘Wait a while,’ he said, shooting out a hand to stay her. ‘He might be tryin’ to trick you. Waitin’ out there on the stairs all quiet.’ She nodded and settled back down. ‘Besides, you can do better than him.’
‘I don’t know. Rose is so beautiful. I can’t blame him for liking her.’ He was just like every other boy she’d liked. Not interested in her. Interested in the girl who looked normal. Like the women in adverts and in magazines.
‘I tell you a secret? It was I who invited Rose, not Lawrie. He ditched her once he got what he wanted and he would do the same to you, if he got the chance.’ Sam took her hand in his. ‘Better you see him for what he is. You want a fella can treat you right.’
Evie smiled. ‘Thanks for making me feel better. I’ll be all right. I just thought he was different is all.’
‘You too good for that fool.’
Sam’s body was pressed against her now and a sober Evie might have moved away, but there was something comforting in his closeness. In his soothing words.
He put his arm around her. ‘How you feel? Better?’
‘I suppose.’ She felt numb. She’d lost her grip on time, couldn’t work out if they’d been hiding away in the bedroom for five minutes or fifty. She could hear music from the yard but couldn’t concentrate to listen for a clarinet. For Lawrie.
She turned her head, meaning to ask Sam to help her sneak out, but instead she felt his lips press against hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She tried to push him away but he pulled her tight, her arms pinned. As her body froze, she found herself reasoning that surely her lack of enthusiasm would alert him to the fact that his attentions were unwanted. But somehow she ended up lying down on her back instead, her head spinning. She managed to turn her head, Sam’s kisses finding her neck as she heard laughter from outside, a dirty joke being shared two storeys below. Her body felt flat beneath Sam’s weight, flimsy like a blade of grass, easily bent by his heavier tread. Evie closed her eyes as she felt rough fingers pushing up her skirt, grabbing at her underwear. She tried to move, to free her hands and push him away, but she couldn’t. She cried out as he shoved forward, the pain shocking her out of her numb state. He just hushed her, his mouth pressing down on hers as he began to move, rhythmically, the bedstead squeaking as it knocked gently against the wall.
The second his weight lifted, she was violently sick. All over Sam, all over herself, all over Lawrie’s bed. Sam cursed and jumped away, tripping on the trousers round his ankles. He looked down at her, a curl of distaste on his lips.
‘Let us not tell Lawrie about this,’ he said, ‘else we’ll both be in trouble.’
April 1950
‘Alligator lay egg, but him nu fowl’
JAMAICAN PROVERB
1st April 1950
Dear Gertie,
I can’t tell you how happy your last letter made me. The relief! I don’t think I ever realised just how miserable I’ve become. The idea of leaving this place for ever – I have to say it sounds too good to be true. Did you really mean it? I do hope so, I don’t think I could bear it if you told me you were only joking, especially now that it’s actually happening. Evie’s young man finally got up the courage and asked her to marry him so that’s it. She’ll be gone soon enough, though September is the month they’re talking about which seems a long way off. I suppose at least it’s proof they’ve not been getting up to no good. No rush, it seems.
For now, a June visit would be perfect. Come for a couple of weeks and we can get our plans set. I was a bit cheeky and already went down to the agent on the high street. He reckons that there’s a housing shortage in London, due to all the bombing, and we’ll get rid of this place in no time. There’s nothing left here for me now. Even the bridge lot only put up with me because I’m reliable. I’m sure they’ll be just as happy to get shut of me.
There is one thing. You remember the baby in the pond? Well, that detective seems to be leaving Lawrie alone and now he’s been after Evie. He knows, Gertie, about the baby. Not all of it, thank goodness, but enough that now she’s talking daft, that she should tell Lawrie about it in case he finds out! I’ve tried to nip it in the bud but she won’t listen to me. I know you had said to try Jim Garvan, only I had a bit of an incident with the detective and he seems to think that Jim wouldn’t help. Because of Dad and me falling out, you know. It was all a bit embarrassing, actually, he said all this stuff about how I’d broken Dad’s heart. Called me a traitor, if you can believe it. In front of that nosy Irish woman next door as well. So there’s no point in me asking Jim. But maybe you could? For old time’s sake, you know? It’s not as though you did anything wrong after all so he can’t say anything to you and I’m worried that if I get involved it’ll make things worse. Just write him a letter is all. I’d be very grateful.
Anyway, I’ll get up off my old knees now and let you get on. June it is, and again in September for the wedding? Take a photograph of Devon in the sunshine, if you’ve still got that natty little camera, and post it up for me, won’t you? Give me something to look forward to.
Love always,
Aggie xx
Evie was on the way back from the shops, her arms pulled to their full length by the weight of two bags full of as many groceries as the Coleridges’ ration books would allow. Not far to go, she reminded her screaming limbs, trying to force her feet to pick up the pace as she drew closer to home, the front door barely eight feet away when the car door opened and Rathbone’s head appeared over the roof of his Morris Minor. He was parked right outside her house.
‘Evelyn, a word.’
As usual he had a cigarette poking out the side of his mouth.
Her body sagged. It had been over a week and she’d dared to hope that he’d crossed her off his list. She glanced around but thankfully no one else was out on the street.
‘We can do it here if you like but you might prefer to come down to the station.’ He took a step towards her, rising up onto the pavement. ‘Just to clear a few things up, that’s all.’
‘Now? I need to put away the shopping.’ She summoned up the last vestiges of her strength and made it to the gate, pushing it open with her knee, trying not to panic.
‘I’d hate to have to make more of a fuss about it. After all, you don’t want the neighbours to talk. Let’s not make this into a rigmarole.’ He rolled the ‘r’ and smiled.
She knew he’d do just that, and enjoy himself while he was at it.
‘Can I just drop this in to my mother and tell her where I’m going?’ She had no intention of telling her mother. The last thing she wanted was for Ma to come marching out and make a dirty great scene in the middle of the street.
He nodded and she struggled up the path, letting herself in and shutting Rathbone out. She dropped the bags in the hallway and leaned back against the solid wood of the door, closing her eyes as she tried to breathe normally and quash the giddy sensation of terror that was beginning to turn her stomach.
‘Ma!’ she called. A muffled reply came from upstairs, her mother still busy in the boxroom where she did her sewing. She’d no idea then that Rathbone had been creeping about outside. ‘I’ve got to go out. I’ll leave the shopping on the kitchen table.’