Molly's Christmas Orphans

by Carol Rivers

  The policeman hesitated. ‘Just who do you think you are?’

  Spot’s face darkened to its strangest. ‘Just an ordinary bloke, that’s who I am. Now, knowing my rights as I do, I’d like to see that warrant you’ve got for turning my place over. The one that Detective Inspector Richards must’ve signed this morning.’

  The look he received back was one of barely contained fury, but also fear. Raising a bushy black eyebrow, Spot tilted his head to add, ‘Unless, of course, you’ve had your fill for the day and want to get down the boozer with your mates. In which case, we’ll forget the minor details and me and the missus will be on our way.’

  Spot was barely able to hide his satisfaction as, departing like a thundercloud over the horizon, the policeman stormed off, leaving Spot with a genuine smile on his face as he awaited Cissy.

  ‘Cissy, oh Cissy!’ Molly threw her ams around her friend as they stood in the gloom of the restaurant. ‘I’ve been so worried about you.’

  ‘I was a bit worried meself,’ admitted Cissy, shivering as she lifted Harry into her arms and hugged him. ‘But I wasn’t going to let them see that. They kept on asking about Ronnie but I never offered a word. Just kept shtum, with me arms folded over me belly.’

  ‘What did Spot say to get you out?’

  ‘He told them I was having another kid.’

  ‘You’re not, are you?’

  ‘No, course not. But my other half thought it was a good tactic. He said if I dropped it then they was to blame as I was so delicate. And, oh yes, the important part. My husband used his noddle and took a gamble that they didn’t have no search warrant.’

  ‘What?’ said Molly in surprise.

  ‘That idiot copper took it on himself to plough in with his heavies on a bluff. He wants the money that Cissy stole.’

  ‘But there is no money!’ protested Molly. ‘You’re Lena Cole, not Cissy.’

  Cissy nodded. ‘But Longman doesn’t know that. Only Ronnie does.’

  ‘So why would Ronnie think you had Cissy’s money?’

  ‘Because I was mates with Cissy, I suppose.’

  Spot interrupted their conversation. ‘The rozzers are out the front, keeping watch. I’ve brought the cart round the back so we can all go back to Roper Street. We ain’t gonna hang around here like sitting ducks.’

  Spot gave a little bow to Cheng and Li before beckoning Molly, Cissy and the children to follow him through the steamy kitchens.

  A cool breeze met them as they stood outside by the cart. ‘I managed to nip upstairs to get the dog,’ Spot whispered. ‘There’s nice warm bales of hay in the back and some blankets. Make yourselves comfortable.’

  Soon they were all aboard and joined Nibbles in the sweet-smelling hay that hid them all from view. As Spot drove the horse and cart into the darkened alleys of Limehouse, all was silent, with only the starry sky above for company.

  Every nerve in Molly’s body was on the alert as the wagon rolled gently over the damp cobbles.

  Ronnie Hook was on the loose again.

  When would he strike?

  Chapter Thirty

  The next day Molly woke in her own bed, but still with the same sense of alarm. She hurried to find Cissy and Harry, and was relieved to find them both asleep in Cissy’s old bed. When she opened the door of Evie and Mark’s room, she saw two small heads nestled under the covers.

  Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she dressed quickly and went to the kitchen to put on the kettle. But no sooner had her hand touched the handle when she heard the creak of the back door. Opening the table drawer, she took out the rolling pin. Footsteps came slowly up the stairs. What use would a rolling pin be if Ronnie and his accomplices had broken in?

  When a man and a small dog appeared, she closed her eyes in relief. ‘Oh, Spot, thank goodness, it’s you.’

  ‘Sorry to give you a fright.’

  ‘I forgot you kept watch last night.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you can put that roller away. The coast is clear.’

  ‘I’ll cook you some breakfast.’

  ‘As much as I’d like that, I’d better get the old nag and cart back to the council’s yard. I’ll be back as soon as I can get away from work. Now, don’t get the wind up, but I suggest you open the shop as per normal.’

  ‘But Ronnie might come here if he escapes the coppers,’ Molly replied anxiously. ‘He knows Cissy lived with me before she was married.’

  ‘Can’t see him turning up here in broad daylight. Two cons would stick out like a sore thumb. But just in case, keep Cissy and Harry upstairs. Bolt the back door after me. The dog will see off anyone he hears in the yard. Have a good chinwag with your customers so there’s always someone in the shop with you. I’ll be back soon as I can.’

  Molly followed Spot downstairs. As he instructed her, after he’d gone, she drew the two heavy bolts top and bottom, leaving Nibbles to stand guard.

  Upstairs, she sat in the kitchen and tried not to let her thoughts wander, but this was an impossible task. So she prepared breakfast for the household and then, when the sound of voices outside in the street caused her to hurry to the window, she peered suspiciously out from behind the lace curtain.

  It was a great relief to see Jean walking towards the shop with Susie and Simon. She had forgotten entirely that the kids were due back at school. She ran downstairs again to draw the bolts and let them in.

  It turned out a very long day for Molly. After she explained to Jean all that had happened, Jean coaxed her into letting the children go to school.

  ‘They’ll drive you nuts cooped up in the flat. They’ll be safe at school and I’ll bring them home at teatime.’

  ‘P’raps you’re right,’ Molly agreed, but after Mark and Evie had left with Jean, Cissy sat miserably in the front room with Harry. ‘I don’t know how long I can bring meself to hide away like this,’ she said dismally as she brushed Harry’s dark hair into a parting. ‘My lovely home has been turned upside down. Spot is well-meaning, but I’d rather face my enemy. I’m sick of running, Molly. I thought it was all over when Ronnie was nicked. Now I’m back to square one again.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ said Molly firmly. ‘You have a husband and lovely son who care for you. You’re a family now, with responsibilities to each other. Try to be patient and do as Spot says.’

  But Molly could tell by the look on Cissy’s face she was taking this turn of events very hard. Her old defiant expression returned, and she stuck out her chin as she scooped Harry up and took him into the bedroom.

  Molly herself felt no better. She jumped every time the shop bell tinkled. When strangers passed by she found herself scrutinizing them, wondering who they were. And despite all the care she had taken to follow Spot’s orders, the feeling that had started last night in the ride on the cart to Roper Street only deepened. By late afternoon, she felt exhausted and decided to close up.

  The last customer left and Molly drew the blackout blinds securely, then locked and bolted the shop door. But glass was easy to smash! It was as she stood considering this that someone hammered on the back door. Her heart seemed to leap out of her chest. It wasn’t until Nibbles yapped that she managed to make herself move.

  ‘Spot, is that you?’ she asked before drawing the bolts.

  ‘It’s me,’ he confirmed. But Molly was shaking as her fingers touched the cold metal.

  ‘Is that my old man?’ a voice said, as Cissy, with Harry in her arms, thundered down the stairs.

  Spot swiped off his cap as he made his entrance. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Thank Gawd for that,’ Cissy exploded at Spot. ‘You’re home at last.’

  ‘Blimey,’ Spot said with a broad grin. ‘What a welcome!’

  ‘It’s not you I’m relieved to see,’ Cissy muttered as she passed Harry to his father. ‘It’s that lav in the yard. I’ve had to use the pisspot all day.’

  Molly found herself smiling, the tension broken for a short while, as Cissy flew across the yard to the clos
et.

  After the three children had been fed that evening, Molly, Cissy and Spot sat at the kitchen table, which had been restored to its rightful place after the Morrison had been removed to the cellar of the bicycle factory. Everyone hated the contraption – almost as much as they hated the cold, damp cellar.

  ‘So this is what I found out from Cheng and Li,’ Spot said, in a low voice so the children wouldn’t hear. ‘The law is staked out in Narrow Street. Two bloody great goons done up to look like dockers, reading newspapers and prowling around like scalded cats. Ronnie Hook must be having a laugh if he’s clocked them.’

  ‘Did they see you?’ asked Cissy anxiously.

  ‘Not likely. Went in through Cheng’s back door.’

  ‘Is there any chance the law will catch Hook?’ asked Molly.

  ‘With those two nitwits stuck outside, the most they’re gonna catch is a cold.’

  ‘But we can’t stay locked up like this all the time,’ Cissy complained irritably.

  ‘Listen, love, you’ve got to be patient,’ admonished Spot. ‘What would you do if you was Ronnie?’

  Cissy shrugged disinterestedly. ‘Dunno.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what he’ll do. He’ll lay low until the bluebottles get fed up and leave.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘Our detective friend will realize he’s on to a loser when he sees the flat is empty. He can’t afford to waste time. If he hasn’t found Hook, his gaffer will be after him for results.’

  ‘I still don’t see how that helps us,’ Cissy said morosely.

  ‘Cheng’s going to give me the nudge when the stake-out’s over. We’ll move back in then. For now, I’ll be here to keep you girls company, just in case.’

  Molly felt a little better, though she still wasn’t certain that Spot was any real match for these villains should they decide to pay the shop a visit.

  ‘So what about Molly when we do go home?’ Cissy asked, reading Molly’s thoughts.

  ‘If Hook ain’t been nabbed by then, Molly and the kids come with us.’

  ‘But I’ve got the shop to think of,’ protested Molly. ‘There’s been enough interruptions to business with the bombing. And there’s school. The children will wonder why they’re not attending.’

  ‘Let’s take it a day at a time,’ Spot said as he rubbed his chin. ‘The law might nab Hook soon, if we’re lucky.’

  ‘What if we’re not?’ Cissy demanded. ‘Ronnie Hook is a—’

  Just then a low, deep thud shook the walls briefly. A shower of dust fell down from the ceiling. The vibration continued for a few seconds and then there was a long, eerie silence.

  ‘What was that?’ breathed Molly as they looked at one another. ‘The Luftwaffe? The siren hasn’t gone.’

  ‘No. But they’ve been wrong before.’

  No one knew quite what to do. Cissy hurried to the children and Spot went downstairs.

  Molly listened for every sound. She could only hear Cissy and the children, and Nibbles yapping downstairs. After a few minutes, her thudding heart began to settle. If it was a V-1 then the newspapers must be mistaken. The launch sites of the deadly bombs were still in action.

  The minutes ticked slowly by and another faint thunder roll shook the air. The hours passed with noises in the distance that no one could identify. When Molly went to bed she lay awake, listening to the sounds of the night. Not only was Ronnie Hook out there, but there was something else too. Could it be a resumption of the V-1s? The prospect depressed her almost as much as the thought of Ronnie Hook.

  ‘Oh, Andy,’ she whispered as she turned her face into the pillow. ‘I wish you were here.’

  It was Liz, the following morning, who brought news with her that took everyone’s mind off their troubles.

  ‘Staveley Road in Chiswick was bombed last night,’ she gasped breathlessly. ‘And it wasn’t a V-1.’

  ‘What was it?’ Molly, Cissy and Spot all asked in unison.

  ‘It was something out of the sky like a rocket. There was another one in Epping Forest and another not far off.’

  ‘But how can this be?’ Molly said bewilderedly. ‘The siren didn’t go.’

  ‘Whatever it was made a tearing sound like an express train. And people was killed and injured.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I met old Stokesy on me way here. The city’s going frantic. The wardens have been told to say it’s gas explosions, but everyone knows it’s not.’

  ‘So where do these things come from?’ Spot asked. ‘I thought after Normandy we were supposed to be winning the war.’

  ‘Stokesy reckons the Allies miscalculated and there was more launch sites than they found.’

  ‘You mean more bombs?’ asked Cissy. ‘Like the V-1s?’

  ‘Worse,’ stated Liz knowledgeably. ‘Ones that are so lethal the top brass want it kept secret.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t going down in that bloody cellar again,’ Cissy said emphatically. ‘Bombs or no bombs.’

  After Liz had gone the neighbourhood was very quiet, but then the rumours began to spread. A new and more deadly weapon had been fired at London. So deadly, the authorities were trying to cover it up to prevent any panic.

  Over the next few days, there were more explosions and terrifying stories of blast waves caused by this new weapon. Molly thought that at least the fear of Ronnie Hook had taken second place to the slowly growing terror of what people were now calling the threat of the V-2.

  All the same, Molly was relieved to have Spot around, and the customers took up their old habit of congregating in the shop to discuss the secret weapon that was waging war on London.

  ‘My sister, who lives over the water in South London,’ said one customer in a hushed tone, ‘has seen the effects of the V-2 rocket first hand. It was like an earthquake and the crater it left was deep, but the blast wave shook buildings for miles around, even cracked people’s washbasins.’

  ‘Yes, we heard the noises from here,’ Molly said dismally. ‘But how many more are to come?’

  The answer to this came over the next week, when the rockets spread terror throughout London. The raids weren’t as frequent as the V-1s, but the damage done to the sites of impact was much worse.

  It was almost two weeks after that first night when Staveley Road became the first V-2 victim that Spot returned one afternoon after a visit to Narrow Street. ‘The law has gone,’ he told Molly and Cissy, as he burst in at the shop door. ‘Cheng said they left one uniformed copper to walk up and down for a couple of days, then slung their hook. Cheng and Li and a couple of our neighbours went upstairs to the flat yesterday and let themselves in with the key I gave them. They’ve had a good clear-up, love,’ he said, pulling Cissy into his arms and plonking a big kiss on her lips. ‘The old manor is back in shape again, so we can go home.’

  ‘Thank Gawd for that,’ Cissy sighed, and Molly smiled as she gave a rare display of affection and returned Spot’s kiss. ‘This is the last time I’m gonna let anyone frighten me out of my own home.’

  ‘I take it Cheng and Li haven’t seen Ronnie?’ Molly asked as she locked the shop door.

  ‘No – and they’ve all kept a watch. Not a shadow, not a whisper.’

  Molly smiled. ‘Cissy, are you sure you want to go home?’

  Cissy nodded. ‘As much as I love it here, Molly, I’ve got to start living me life again. You and the kids could come too, but I know you feel the same as me. We ain’t gonna be ruled by fear.’ She walked over to Molly and put her arms around her. ‘You’ve been such a good pal, Molly. Thanks, love.’

  There were tears in Molly’s eyes as they stood there.

  ‘Don’t worry about us, Molly, half the neighbourhood is on the watch. I’d like to see Ronnie and his mate turn up unannounced.’

  It was a happy, almost normal meal they all shared that evening, and Molly assured herself that Cissy going home was all for the best. But she was worried nevertheless, for if Ronnie Hook hadn’t shown up at t
he shop, nor challenged the police watch kept at Narrow Street, where was he? Still watching from somewhere in the shadows? Would he find out that Cissy had returned home and might be vulnerable again? Or, as they were all hoping and praying, had he fled the East End at last, putting his freedom before his greed?

  Spot sat in the darkened shop with Nibbles at his feet, drawing the smoke of his roll-up deeply and satisfyingly into his lungs.

  As he watched, a chink of starlight broke in at the side of the blackout blind. He congratulated himself on having brought the Ronnie Hook issue to a satisfying close. There was a chance – a small one – that Hook would try again at Narrow Street. He wasn’t mug enough to discount the possibility. But he had set everything in motion; now the law was gone, he could operate under his own steam. The twenty-four-hour watch on their home would not be attempted by rookie amateurs, but by his pals of the neighbourhood, like Cheng and Li.

  The Chinese were a private and independent lot, but dead loyal to their mates. Thank God his old gran had left him with a dowry: the sense to know who his real friends were and to cultivate them. That was true wisdom, that was. Spot had no intention of wasting another day fretting over Hook; he would drive the cart over tomorrow. They’d be given a right royal welcome when they got home. And Cissy deserved it for all she’d been through.

  He rested back on the wooden chair and propped his feet on a sack of spuds. In the darkness, he took out his tobacco and rolled himself another. He blew rings and chuckled to himself and ground the dog-end out under his boot.

  Every now and then his hand dropped to soothe the furrowed silky brow of the animal at his side. For the first time in weeks, he felt drowsy and content. He swept on his cap and tugged it down over his eyes to enjoy forty winks.

  Then in the distance came a rolling thunder that shook the ground. The chair trembled and the walls shuddered. He felt a shower of dust on his face. The vibration seemed to go on forever and he jumped to his feet, listening to the peculiar echo.

  ‘That bugger was close,’ he said aloud and hurried to the back door and slipped the bolts. The first thing he looked for in the night sky was a glow. If a V-2 had fallen south of the river again, it was closer than ever before. Were the rockets heading this way?