by Carol Rivers
Molly looked into his face and wondered if Andy had suffered. Then, shaking her head slowly, she said, ‘My friend follows the conflict very carefully and guessed that Andy might be part of the assault on the French coast. But I think I knew it anyway. I don’t know how; the feeling was just there.’
‘A lot of brave men perished that day. But for a great cause, though that of course can be of very little comfort.’
‘How did you find me?’ Molly asked. ‘After all, I’m not a relative.’
‘I found Andy an amiable but very private man,’ Bruce Jefferson replied. ‘But the one part of his life I knew something about was his intention to return to his family: Mark, Evie and Molly. Before we parted he wrote down your address and asked me to find you should it be necessary.’ Once more he looked down at his cap. ‘I was fortunate. Though I sustained injuries, they were superficial. I was discharged from hospital yesterday and came straight here.’
‘Thank you,’ Molly said quietly. ‘I’m grateful.’
‘Have you a family member or friend who can be here with you?’
Molly nodded. Cissy had taken the children down to Jean’s for the morning and she was to join them later. But for now, she wanted to be on her own. To absorb this loss which seemed so unreal, and so unjust. She stood up slowly and Bruce Jefferson did the same.
He took an envelope from his pocket. ‘Inside you will find my address. I live just outside London. If you need me in the next week or so I can be here in a very short time. The Allies, after the successful invasion, are driving south in Europe and so I shall be recalled very soon to duty. But you have my telephone number there – just in case.’
Molly bit back the emotion that was filling her and put out her hand. ‘Thank you again for coming in person.’
He looked into her eyes and for a moment she was afraid he might not leave, so great was his concern for her. But she needed desperately to be alone and release the grief inside before seeing Jean and the children. He must have sensed her discomfort, as he bade her goodbye and saw himself down the stairs.
She heard the back door go and stood very still, gazing down at the white envelope in her hands, waiting for the tears to come.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
And so there was another new world in which Molly found herself. Another beginning that seemed too much like an end. This time she had in her care two orphaned children; Mark and Evie had only her to rely on. If she hadn’t met Andy and his family, she wondered as the days passed, what would she have done with herself? Moved out to Sidcup? Or stayed in the East End, living through the bombing with only herself to worry about?
But that other life hadn’t happened. Nothing could ever make her regret falling in love with Andy and sharing what little time they’d been spared together.
‘Get the shop open again, gel,’ advised Cissy a fortnight later as they sat in Cissy’s large and airy kitchen while Harry enjoyed his midday nap. He was almost two now and as energetic as a spring lamb. ‘There ain’t been any buzz bombs for a while and it looks like we’re getting the upper hand on the enemy. So in my humble opinion work is the answer for you, Molly. It always has been. Get your teeth into something challenging.’
‘I’ve Mark and Evie to think of,’ she answered, unable to find any enthusiasm whatsover to reopen the shop. As she listened to Mark and Evie’s voices drifting up from the road where they were playing with the other children, she found it hard to muster any energy at all. ‘They’ve not got a mum or dad now, Cissy. They come first.’
‘Have you told them about Andy?’
Molly shook her head. ‘They just seem so happy to be out of that bloody cellar and playing in the fresh air again. Every day we do something, a walk or a bus ride somewhere. I’ll have to break it to them one day as time goes on, of course.’
‘Has there been a letter from the War Office?’
‘No. Nothing.’
‘No news is good news.’
‘Bruce Jefferson didn’t hold out any hope. At least, if he did, he didn’t tell me.’
‘Well, love, as you are always reminding me, keep your pecker up.’
Molly gave a wistful sigh. ‘Don’t worry, I know I’m lucky compared to some. The news of those awful death camps in Poland is heartbreaking. And although it seems Brussels will be liberated and the French Resistance is joining with the Allies to liberate Paris, there is a wake of destruction left behind. What will happen when we have to rebuild the world afterwards—?’
Just then, Mark and Evie ran into the kitchen with their friends, stopping Molly in mid flow. She couldn’t tell how many children there were, but the many faces were a mixture of oriental, white and black. They were all so excited and yelling at once that Molly stood up to quieten them.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘You’ll wake Harry. Now, one at a time.’
‘It’s the coppers,’ gasped Mark, his dirty face full of concern. ‘They’re coming up here!’
‘What! No! Why?’ Cissy screeched, and all the children started jumping up and down. Little black pigtails flew this way and that as Molly tried to calm them. She moved towards the door to see for herself, but it burst open before her eyes. In charged a group of policemen, wooden truncheons in their hands, and pushing her aside they immediately spread out over the flat.
‘Come back here!’ cried Molly. ‘Stop this at once!’
She knew Cissy would be having kittens, and the children, in an absolute panic, flew past her and ran down the stairs. All except Mark and Evie, who grabbed hold of her hands as a tall figure entered.
Dressed in his usual uniform of dark raincoat and trilby, Detective Constable Longman strode up to her.
‘You!’ Molly gasped. ‘What do you want?’
‘Still defending the guilty, Mrs Swift?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ Molly demanded, her shock quickly forgotten, to be replaced by anger. ‘Get out of here! You’re trespassing!’
His smile was surly and full of contempt. ‘I have a search warrant,’ he barked, ‘and am authorized to search these premises.’
‘What in God’s name for?’ Molly shrieked. ‘There’s nothing here you’d be interested in.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ he muttered, glancing over her shoulder. Molly turned and saw Cissy with Harry in her arms, her face as white as chalk. ‘Good morning, Miss Brown,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Or should it be Mrs Fryer now?’
Cissy hurried to where Molly and the children were standing. Molly could see that even the ends of her dark hair were shaking.
‘What do you want in my home?’ Cissy asked, hugging Harry tightly. ‘Whatever it is, you won’t find it here.’
The detective’s light-coloured eyes narrowed as his men made noisy thumps and bumps that Molly guessed were the furniture going over. ‘Is it just women and children here?’ he demanded as he strode along the passage and they followed him.
‘My husband’s not here,’ Cissy replied defensively. ‘He’s at work, doing his job for the council, catching rats that are a lot better-mannered than you.’
It was this insult that brought the policeman turning sharply on his heel. Pushing his face into Cissy’s, he taunted, ‘I couldn’t give a damn about your husband, although I would like to see his face when he hears about his new wife’s criminal past. For I’m sure he’s going to find out when Ronnie Hook turns up on your doorstep.’
Molly heard Cissy’s gasp. ‘But Ronnie’s in the nick!’
The policeman pulled back his shoulders and smiled unpleasantly. It was with a look of contempt in his eyes that he replied, ‘Wrong again. You see, Ronnie Hook and three others killed a guard before escaping from prison today.’
Molly managed to pretend she wasn’t upset to hear this dreadful news, but she could sense Cissy’s deep distress. ‘So why should we be interested?’ she asked.
‘We apprehended the third man, who made a full confession.’ He stared straight at Cissy. ‘We have reason to believe that
Hook and his cohort intend to find you and recover the money that you stole from him.’
‘I never stole any money,’ Cissy declared. ‘And you can’t prove it.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ The cold light in the man’s eyes had now turned to one of threat. He nodded to the policeman beside him, who came to stand before Cissy. ‘Perhaps you’ll feel a little more like helping us with our enquiries at the station. Resist, and we’ll have to use handcuffs.’
There was silence before Cissy turned to Molly. Her chin jutted out and there was a steely look in her eyes. ‘Look after Harry for me. And don’t worry. There’s nothing to tell them, but all the same, when Spot comes home, tell him I don’t fancy a night in the jug.’
Molly watched in dismay as Cissy was marched out of the flat, a tiny figure in the midst of all the burly policemen.
Spot was on his way home, giving Nibbles enough time to cock his leg on the street corner after a long day ratting. The evening breeze had stilled, and with its disappearance a cold chill now threatened. He was eager to get home, take off his working gear and wash, so that he could play with Harry.
His lovely wife insisted on cleanliness around the kid; she might as well have inspected every inch of him with a magnifying glass, for she was terrified of catching germs.
He smiled as he strolled, hands in pockets under the lamplight, thinking of how he’d first tease her into a cuddle and then, half naked from his ablutions, he’d chase her around the flat until he caught her. Having a cuddle depended entirely on Harry: if he was awake or kipping. And on whether or not the dinner was cooked!
Spot licked his lips. Who would have thought he’d be such a fortunate man? A beautiful, clever wife and a healthy toddler and a job that he’d managed to hold down throughout all the bombing. Nobody had a good word for those bloody V-1s that dropped like dead weights from the sky and left so much damage. The only good thing he could think of himself was the fact that they blew up the widespread colonies of rats that infested the city.
Nibbles sniffed out the escapees with no effort at all; the vermin were so disorientated. Stank to high heaven though, and were riddled with lice and ticks. Daren’t tell Cissy – she’d have him bathing in carbolic!
As he opened the street door, he was stopped by the voices of Li and Cheng, who were peering out from the restaurant.
‘Plenty trouble, Spot,’ they both said together, looking identical in their small embroidered silk caps worn over plaited dark hair. ‘Coppers come today.’
Spot stared at them bewilderedly. ‘What for?’
‘To take missus away.’
‘What! Whose missus?’ Spot demanded.
‘Spot’s missus.’ Both heads nodded simultaneously.
‘Christ almighty! You on the level?’
The heads nodded again. ‘Take her down nick. Friend got Harry upstairs—’
Spot didn’t wait to hear more. Heart in mouth, he leaped up the staircase and saw the front door ajar. Bursting in, he ran along the passage. The first thing he clocked was Molly holding Harry in her arms and the two kids sitting beside her on the settee. Every other article, picture and piece of furniture had been turned over.
Molly tried to keep her composure as she explained the catastrophe to Spot; how the policemen had plundered each room then taken Cissy away for questioning. But she was still shaking and upset.
‘It’s not Ronnie Hook but the money they’re after,’ Spot replied, his fury showing on his usually mild face. ‘Did the copper think we’d keep a stash hidden here in our drum? He’s off his rocker. Cissy didn’t have a penny when I met her.’ He looked with his strangely focused eyes at Molly. ‘As only you and I know, Cissy ain’t Cissy Brown, but Lena Cole. The real Cissy must have turned Hook over. That’s why she was on the run and lied that she worked at the flour factory.’
‘Oh, Spot, what a muddle,’ Molly sighed, as she tried to comfort Harry who had begun to grizzle loudly. ‘That detective’s got it all wrong, but to explain what happened—’
‘Would be a wrong move,’ Spot finished for her as he took Harry in his arms and rocked him. ‘All he’s after is the loot.’
‘But what do we do about Cissy?’
‘Get her away from him, that’s what,’ Spot said under his breath. ‘Then I’ll make the bugger pay.’
‘Spot, don’t do anything daft.’
‘They’ve got my wife.’
‘I know. But try to think calmly.’
Spot ruffled his son’s hair and returned him to Molly. He gave a little pat to Mark and Evie’s shoulders as they looked up at him anxiously. ‘Listen, you two, I’m sorry the coppers frightened you. But old Spot’s gonna sort things out.’
‘I wanna go home,’ Mark said solemnly.
‘I do as well,’ mumbled Evie.
‘Right you are, then this is our plan. I’ll get you all back to Roper Street, but first I’ll have Li downstairs give you a good feed. How’s that sound? I’ll just give him the nudge.’
Molly watched him rush out and heard his footsteps on the stairs. When he returned five minutes later he was back to his old, smiling self.
‘Right you are, me loves, follow me. Li and Cheng have got a nice, comfy seat ready for you in their gaff and you can eat till you can’t eat no more. By the time you’re finished, I’ll be back with the ratting cart to take you all home.’
Molly didn’t ask more as, leaving Nibbles to guard the flat, they trailed after Spot down the stairs and into the darkened restaurant below. The golden lanterns were just being lit and a delicious smell wafted from the kitchens.
‘Don’t worry, gel, I’ll take care of everything.’ He winked at Molly then bolted out of the door.
‘You eat good,’ said Li, urging her forwards with many bows as he folded his hands into his long sleeves. ‘Please sit here, kids.’
Molly lowered Harry onto the cushion that Li had supplied, one for each of the children so they could reach the table.
‘Spot back soon,’ said Cheng, appearing from the shadows. He had a long, thin moustache that drooped down below his pointed chin. ‘Now, what you like?’
Molly shrugged and looked at Mark and Evie who sat with Harry in between them.
‘I’m ’ungry,’ said Evie, picking up the spoon.
‘We’ll have what you give us,’ Molly decided. ‘Have you something soft for Harry to chew on?’
Both men smiled. ‘We got good grub for kids.’
Mark had a deep frown on his face as they waited for their meal. ‘Our teacher said they eat snails.’
‘It’s the French who eat snails,’ Molly explained with a smile. At least the Chinese restaurant was a distraction, she thought, as Harry began to blow bubbles and Mark and Evie burst into laughter at his antics.
Very soon Cheng and Li returned with small china dishes of hot food accompanied by chopsticks exactly like the ones that Cissy kept upstairs.
Well, this will keep us occupied, Molly thought as the children sucked in their long, slippery noodles and fried rice with the aid of spoons that were hidden under the cloth napkins. But to think of her friend being questioned by that bully detective was almost more than she could bear.
She felt a little better, however, when at the end of the meal she opened her fortune cookie and read that good luck was to be with her today.
Spot remained stubbornly where he stood, feet planted apart, in front of the desk sergeant. ‘I ain’t moving from here, old son, until I see your gaffer. At least, the man at the top.’
‘I’ve told you, Detective Inspector Richards is on leave.’ The sergeant officiously folded his arms across his chest.
‘All right,’ said Spot, adjusting the peak of his cap, ‘the copper that’s got my missus, then.’
‘Who’s your missus?’
‘You know bloody well who it is.’ Spot placed both his elbows on the desk, which was high and almost above his reach, but he made it. Pleating his fingers together and staring the man in the eye, he said quietly,
‘One day you’ll need my services, cocker. There ain’t a street I don’t visit to clean up. Rats can be a rotten curse, running all over the place, up people’s legs and biting their private parts. I’ve seen the arse of a bigger man than you scoot down the road holding his crotch.’ Spot smiled in a friendly fashion. ‘Just tell the geezer I’ve got some information on the absconded criminal, Ronnie Hook.’
The sergeant gave a grimace, but Spot could see that he had won his attention, and after a few seconds’ deliberation, the man went away.
It was not long before the man that Spot recognized from Molly’s description as Longman came into view.
‘You have information about Ronnie Hook?’ said the copper suspiciously.
‘No, but I thought it was a good opener to our conversation.’
‘Wasting my time, eh?’ growled the detective. ‘So that’s your game, is it?’
‘No, chum, it’s no game. Are you arresting my wife? And if so, what for?’
‘That’s not for you to know.’
‘Oh yes it is, handsome. You’ve had Cissy in your custody all afternoon. For a pregnant woman who had a very difficult first childbirth and is unaccompanied by a legal beagle, I’d say you’ve stretched your authority a bit far.’
‘I’m entitled to question her for longer if I so wish.’
‘Well, have the midwife ready, then,’ said Spot, patting the desk gently. ‘Stress like this can bring the kid on.’ He looked the moron up and down. ‘And if it all went tits up, then the newspapers might get hold of the story. Now we all know how hard your bosses are trying to win Joe Public’s confidence at this moment in time. So demoralizing headlines about an East End constabulary ain’t really in line with your gaffer at the top’s policies.’
‘Are you threatening me?’ the detective demanded, but by the sudden glimmer of alarm in the man’s eyes, Spot sussed he was on to a winner. He had an ace up his sleeve and he was going to play it.
‘Threats, no!’ he exclaimed innocently. ‘I’m one hundred per cent aware good old Lily Law don’t take kindly to threats. Count this as a bit of good advice, pal. Just between you and me.’