Molly's Christmas Orphans

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Molly's Christmas Orphans Page 13

by Carol Rivers


  ‘Thanks. Can I cook you some breakfast?’

  He took his cap from his pocket and thrust it on his head. ‘No, thanks, missus. I need me constitutional. And Nibbles needs a wee.’

  ‘Nibbles is a very nice dog.’

  ‘He’s a ratter, see,’ explained Spot, pulling hard on the peak of his cap. ‘That’s me job, I’m the council rat man. Very busy, an’ all. There’s vermin all over London after the bombing. They come out from the mains half dozy with shock. Nibbles sniffs ’em, nips their throats and I do the rest. He likes a good nibble, see? I spots ’em, he eats ’em.’ He laughed.

  Molly shivered, but she smiled all the same. This curious little man was very likeable.

  ‘You got someone to mend your lock?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. Dennis Turner down the road.’

  ‘I’ll be back tonight with me dog.’

  ‘What for?’

  Spot rubbed his nose and the one eye looked at her doubtfully. ‘Missus, you got a problem and I can solve it. Anyone tries to get in your place in future they’ll have to reckon with me.’

  ‘But you’ve done enough already.’

  ‘I told you, I’m trying to impress. I gotta get that girl to take me seriously. And if I can be of use along the way, well, that kills two birds with one stone, don’t it?’

  Molly smiled. ‘Well, all right, but just for a short while.’

  He grinned at her, tipped his cap yet again, then went to the door. After he’d gone, she drew the bolt again. When she got upstairs, Cissy was standing in the passage. Her dark hair hung in her eyes and she had put on her coat.

  ‘Cissy, where are you going?’

  ‘I told you last night. I’m leaving.’

  Molly didn’t know what to say. Why was Cissy acting so mysteriously?

  ‘I can’t stay here, Molly. They’ve found me.’

  Molly frowned. ‘Is this the other half of the story?’

  ‘Don’t matter.’ Cissy hung her head. ‘I told you, I’m bad luck. You’re better off without me.’

  ‘You’re beginning to sound sorry for yourself.’ Molly jerked her head towards the kitchen. ‘Let’s have some breakfast, and I’ll put some ointment on that sore neck of yours and take a look at your side. Then you can tell me why you’re running away. If you still want to go after that, I won’t stop you.’

  Cissy shrugged and walked into the kitchen.

  Molly breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Dunno where to start,’ said Cissy as she put down her spoon, which was still clean. She couldn’t eat the porridge Molly had made her. Her throat was very sore, despite the kaolin poultice Molly had applied to her neck and the tight bandage around her bruised ribs.

  ‘Begin at the beginning,’ Molly told her as she poured tea. ‘When did your troubles start?’

  Cissy rolled her eyes. ‘The day I was born.’

  Molly tutted as she sat beside her. ‘Look here, Cissy, you can sound very bitter at times. I’m sure you have your reasons. But I’ve told you before that I don’t care what happened in your past. In the time we’ve known each other, I’ve become very fond of you. I couldn’t have looked after the kids and gone to see me dad if it wasn’t for your help.’

  ‘I don’t deserve you saying that,’ said Cissy, feeling guilty. ‘I thought you’d be tired of me by now and I’d have to move on again.’

  ‘Well, you were wrong.’

  Cissy made herself look into Molly’s big brown eyes. ‘I’m frightened, Molly. I don’t want them to hurt you like they hurt Ethel.’

  ‘I thought Ethel died in the ambulance after the bomb dropped on her house?’

  ‘Yer, she did. But not before they scared the living daylights out of her. Just like they did to you last night.’

  Molly looked bewildered. ‘You mean those two men from the Roxy? I thought you didn’t know them.’

  ‘I know who sent them.’ Cissy knew now she had to tell Molly everything. Well, nearly everything. There was no hiding place left for her. She would always be on the run. Unless she went back to Ronnie. ‘Those men work for Ronnie Hook, a villain from over the water,’ she told Molly. ‘I’m sorry to say, he was once me gaffer.’ Cissy swallowed. She knew Molly was a nice person, but even nice people had their limits.

  ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

  ‘I’m a brass flute, Molly. A tart. Does that ring any bells?’ She watched understanding dawn on Molly’s lovely face. The shame Cissy felt was almost unbearable.

  ‘So that message in red paint was about you?’

  Cissy nodded. ‘It was a warning. Get shot of me or Ronnie will do something terrible. They made Ethel watch as they roughed me up. Tied the poor old girl to a chair while they clobbered me. It was only the Luftwaffe that sent them packing and saved me bacon.’

  Molly was silent for a moment, then said quietly, ‘How did you meet these people?’

  ‘I ain’t never had anyone. So what did I care what I did? I grew up in a kids’ home and hated the world. You ain’t got a family, then you ain’t got a soul. I just did what people wanted to earn a crust.’

  ‘But you did meet someone. You had a husband, you said.’

  ‘Vince was my old man, all right. I was fifteen when I met him. He put a ring on me finger but soon buggered off. My head was in a really bad place. So I decided to end it all one night at Greenwich Reach. No one was gonna miss me. But Ronnie saw me. He was just this bloke walking along by the water and he made a joke. Told me it was too shallow to drown in and all I’d get was a pisspot of dirty water in me belly. I thought he was different, that he liked me. I thought I was special until one day he told me to get out on the street and pay me way. I ended up being just another one of his girls.’

  ‘Oh, Cissy, that’s a heartbreaking story.’

  ‘I should have known better. Who’d want me, for Gawd’s sake? Even me name ain’t mine. I’m really Lena Cole.’

  ‘But your ration book says Cissy Brown.’

  ‘Cissy is dead. Took a direct hit on the night I met you. She lodged with Ethel and didn’t have no husband or family. Worked over at the flour factory. I stole the poor cow’s identity papers.’

  ‘That’s against the law, Cissy.’

  ‘Yeah, but it was a chance for a fresh start.’

  ‘Is that why you don’t like the law?’

  ‘They’d put me in clink if they found out.’

  Molly sighed and nodded slowly. ‘Things begin to make sense now.’

  ‘I really have got a Jonah on me shoulder. First Cissy, then Ethel and very nearly you last night.’ She tried to clear the lump in her throat. ‘You know what that big lug whispered as he was strangling me? “Ronnie’ll get you, Lena. And your friend too.” ’

  ‘But they didn’t get us, did they?’ Molly replied, her voice so steady that Cissy wondered if she’d really understood what she’d told her. ‘And nor will they,’ Molly continued. ‘You’ve had the courage to leave this man and all he represents. Now you must keep to your path.’

  Cissy shook her head, laughing scornfully. ‘You don’t know this bloke. He’s a monster. He made me into a monster too. I done terrible things. Things a person should never have to do.’

  ‘We all do things we regret, Cissy. All of us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t change.’

  ‘Don’t reckon you’ve ever put a foot wrong in your life, gel,’ Cissy said forlornly.

  ‘You’re wrong there,’ Molly said quietly. ‘I could have saved my little girl, Emily. I should have called the doctor. Instead, I waited, believing I could get her better; it was just a cold. Within twenty-four hours she developed pneumonia and was dead. I could have saved my husband. If I’d implored Ted not to volunteer for the war, he would have listened to me. His regiment was slaughtered and I could have prevented him from being one of those men, by saying just a few words: “Wait a bit, Ted, till you get your call-up. Do this for me and our future together.” ’ Molly paused, her eyes moist. �
�But I didn’t say those words. Pride kept me silent. Pride that my husband wanted to do his duty for his country. Every day of my life I think of these things. So you see, we all have our mistakes to live with.’

  ‘Christ, gel, what you did wasn’t mistakes. It was just life.’

  ‘And death,’ Molly replied. ‘Death welcomed in, as easy as you welcomed Ronnie Hook into your life.’

  Cissy stared at this woman who had given her shelter and friendship, and what had she offered in return? Certainly not the truth. ‘There’s something else too,’ she forced herself to admit. ‘When I met you in the hospital I thought, here’s a soft touch. I’ve got nothing now Ethel’s dead. Nowhere to go. Nothing. Perhaps there’s something in this for me. I was out for what I could get. A place to hide. Food on the table. And when you paid me a wage, blimey, I couldn’t believe me luck. The only fly in the ointment was Andy and his kids. I thought, what if she prefers them to me and she boots me out? Then, well . . .’ Cissy dropped her gaze, for admitting to her guilty thoughts was so very painful. ‘Well, I realized it wasn’t a case of top dog. It was us all together, people who helped each other in times of trouble. Don’t matter who or what you are or where you come from.’

  Molly smiled. ‘It should always be like that.’

  ‘But it ain’t. Most blokes I’ve met are after something, anythin’! Except for Andy. He was all right. His kids got on me nerves at first, then I found I was being a kid with them. Something I ain’t done in years. Perhaps ever.’ Cissy smiled fondly as she thought of Evie and Mark. ‘I could have a giggle with them, eat sweets, tell them stories. They actually seemed to like me for me. And then there was Jean and Den and their kids, even old Stokesy and Liz Howells. Even your posh sister and her old man. People I’d have a run a mile from once. Nice people, too good for me. And the more I saw of ’em, the more I knew the life I’d lived was so bleeding wrong.’ She couldn’t bring herself to look at Molly. To see the disappointment and reproach in her eyes.

  ‘Thank you,’ Molly told her softly.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For confiding in me. We’ve shared things today and that’s what friends are about. Now, do you still want to leave?’

  Cissy shook her head. ‘No, course not, but—’

  ‘Good. So you can stop all that nonsense.’

  ‘You mean you want me to stay now you know everything?’

  ‘What do I call you, Lena or Cissy?’

  ‘Don’t like Lena.’

  ‘Then Cissy it is.’ Molly stood up.

  ‘But what about Ronnie?’

  ‘What about him?’

  Cissy felt a wave of panic. ‘You read the message.’

  ‘Yes, and the first step is to get rid of it.’ Molly smiled at her. ‘How is that side of yours?’

  ‘Just a bit sore.’

  ‘Well, take off your coat and you can sit here and do the books for me while I open the shop.’

  ‘But . . .’ Cissy began, only to be silenced by the stern look Molly gave her.

  ‘By the way, Spot asked after you this morning,’ Molly said as she reached out for her overall. ‘He kept watch in the shop all night with his little dog.’

  ‘He’s guessed, ain’t he?’ Cissy said, going scarlet.

  ‘Guessed what?’

  ‘That the message was about me. The tart.’

  Molly shrugged. ‘He’s coming back tonight to keep watch in the shop.’

  ‘Silly bloody fool. What’s a little runt like him think he can do against Ronnie Hook?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Molly replied. ‘But what I do know is Spot ain’t like the Ronnies or Vinces of this world. He thinks highly of you and that’s what counts.’

  ‘He don’t even know me.’

  ‘Given time, he could. If you let him.’

  Cissy remained silent, for although she quite liked Spot – and Molly was one in a million – she wasn’t about to trust another human being for a long while yet. Not while Ronnie Hook still lived and breathed.

  It was the middle of October when Molly decided to visit her dad again. She was in two minds about going. Was it safe to leave Cissy alone in the shop? They’d had no further trouble, thanks to Spot and Nibbles who kept guard downstairs each night. Finally she decided to close the shop for the day, warning her customers in advance. Cissy protested, but Molly insisted she spend the day with Jean.

  All went according to plan. After lunch at Lyn’s, Oscar drove her home at half past three. She was relieved to see Cissy walking up Roper Street with Jean and the children.

  ‘Here’s Cissy now,’ Molly said as Oscar kept the engine running. ‘You’re welcome to come in for a cup of tea,’ she offered.

  ‘I thought you said your employee was away for the day,’ Oscar replied as he peered through his glasses.

  ‘Well, most of the day.’ Molly blushed.

  ‘Better get going, thanks all the same. Things to do, you understand.’ He revved the engine. ‘Don’t forget Christmas,’ he called as she got out of the car. ‘Lyn would be disappointed if you couldn’t come.’

  While she was out in Lyn’s garden with her dad, Bill had warned her that Oscar’s parents were invited for the holiday. Molly had met them several times: nice people, but like Oscar, they came from an extremely well-to-do world. The talk was always about big business, and the store wasn’t in the same category. As much as she loved her father, two whole days spent in the bosom of Oscar’s family was not something Molly wanted to think about right now.

  When Oscar had driven off, Cissy, Jean and the children followed Molly into the back yard. All was quiet, and in the daylight Molly wondered why she had been so anxious. The door was still firmly shut with Den’s new lock and all was in order inside.

  ‘Will you stop for a cuppa?’ Molly asked Jean.

  ‘Yes, then you can tell me about your dad,’ Jean said as they went up the stairs.

  ‘Can we play in Mark and Evie’s room?’ asked Simon and Susie.

  ‘Yes, course.’ Molly took off her coat and hat, her heart doing a little skip as she thought of Evie and Mark. She hadn’t heard from Betty and Len. Not that she expected to. But that didn’t stop her thinking each day of how the children were, wondering if they were at school and making friends.

  ‘I’ll go downstairs and open up,’ Cissy said as she took her overall and scarf from the chair. Even after all this time, the red ring on her neck was still faintly visible. ‘Might get one or two late customers.’

  After Molly had made tea, Jean asked more about Bill. ‘Did you tell Bill about the break-in?’

  ‘No, he ain’t feeling too bright.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘He likes his pipe and hides it in his wheelchair. Lyn and Oscar ain’t partial to the smell, so he pushes himself outside for a quiet smoke. Mrs James says he should be doing without the chair by now, but of course Dad won’t hear of it. And then there’s Christmas . . .’

  ‘What about Christmas?’

  Molly shrugged. ‘Oscar’s parents are staying. They ain’t really his cup of tea.’

  ‘Poor old boy.’

  ‘I know. I should go and stay too, but what with one thing and another—’

  ‘Can’t he come home for the holiday?’

  ‘How? He can’t get upstairs.’

  ‘He don’t need to if Den brings down a bed. You could borrow our paraffin heater and use your saved coupons on the extras. As you won’t be opening the shop on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, you’d have time to look after him.’

  ‘Christmas in the glory hole? Lyn will have a fit. And what about using the lav?’

  ‘Old Stokesy will sort you out a commode from that Aladdin’s cave of his.’

  Molly’s spirits lifted. ‘Do you think that would work?’

  ‘Why not? It’s only for a few days. And I’ll bet Bill would love it.’

  ‘What if the burglars came back?’

  ‘You can’t live your life thinking that. And anyway, with so many peop
le about they ain’t going to try again right now.’

  ‘S’pose not. I wonder if Oscar would agree to driving him over here?’

  ‘Don’t see why not.’

  Molly grinned. ‘I might just suggest it.’

  ‘That’s the spirit. Now, I must finish me tea. I’ve got to get Den’s dinner on.’

  ‘Thank you for keeping Cissy company today.’

  ‘She’s all right, she is. The more I get to know her the more I like her.’ Jean nudged her elbow and lowered her voice. ‘How’s the romance with the rat man? Is he still in the frame?’

  ‘I don’t know. But he deserves a medal for trying.’

  Jean winked her approval, then called to the children. When they were gone, Molly thought about Cissy and Spot. Would anything come of it? Cissy had admitted that her opinion of Andy had changed, so perhaps liking Spot was not entirely out of the question.

  It was then Molly decided she would try to make this Christmas very special for both her dad and Cissy. She would telephone Lyn soon. Whatever objection her sister came up with, she would think of an answer.

  When a letter dropped on the mat early one morning at the end of October, Molly could hardly believe her eyes as she read the name written at the bottom of the single ruled sheet.

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Cissy as she tipped the coins from the money pouch into the till. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

  Molly sank down on the shop stool. ‘It’s from Andy.’

  ‘Blimey! What does he say?’

  ‘He’s worried about the kids.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When he left them in Southend, Betty’s sister Gert was laid up and Betty was looking after her.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that. What about the kids?’

  ‘I don’t know. He’s asked me to write to the Denhams, find out what I can.’

  ‘He should never have left them there if Betty had her hands full.’

  ‘Well, I don’t suppose he could bring them back to London.’ Molly frowned. ‘This letter is dated the 5th of September, nearly two months ago.’

  ‘Bloody post.’

  ‘Andy says he’s frustrated not being able to do anything from the middle of the ocean.’

 

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