‘I wouldn’t dream of trying to persuade Rosie to break a promise,’ said Boots.
Major Armitage regarded him sombrely.
‘You say you were a sergeant with the Royal West Kents during the war, Mr Adams?’
‘That’s true,’ said Boots.
‘Why not an officer?’
‘My background was wrong,’ said Boots, ‘I’m one of the ordinary people.’
‘Rubbish, man,’ said Major Armitage, ‘if you’re ordinary, I’m a pink elephant. Do you see yourself as ordinary?’
‘Not all the time,’ said Boots, looking whimsical.
‘Mr Adams, there’s going to be another war.’
‘I know,’ said Boots.
‘Well, watch out for it. Nothing is going to stop that madman Hitler. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back. Give my regards to Mrs Adams, whom I met when I arrived this morning, and thank you for your time and understanding. Perhaps on one of Rosie’s visits to Headleigh Hall, you and Mrs Adams can be my guests too. You’ll be very welcome.’
‘Thanks,’ said Boots. ‘I’ll see you out.’
Meanwhile, Emily, Eloise and Chinese Lady had spent time blinking and staring at Rosie while she told them all they needed to hear, doing so with the calmness of a young lady who did not seem to realize that, aside from Tim and Mr Finch, her audience was quivering. Tim only ever quivered when he went in to bat for his school cricket team in moments of crisis, and Mr Finch was a man who was always as calm as Rosie herself. What Rosie came up with in her exposition amounted in the end to a triumph, but at no time did she sound smug about it. Her sense of humour danced about a little, and all her references to Major Armitage suggested she found him a very reasonable and likeable man. Well, bless my soul, thought Chinese Lady, our Rosie, what education’s doing for her is a lot more than mine did for me except reading, writing and arithmetic. She takes after Boots, that’s what, he was always good at learning and at not turning a hair about anything. Our Rosie’s modelled herself on him, she’s always looked up to him, and even liked his airy-fairy ways. And now she’s been and gone and cooked Major Armitage’s goose for him, and done it in a nice fashion, I’d say, like a lady.
‘Rosie, there’s not goin’ to be a fight, no-one’s havin’ to go to court?’ said Emily.
‘No-one,’ said Rosie.
‘Congratulations, Rosie,’ smiled Mr Finch who, truth to tell, had anticipated this kind of outcome.
‘I am amazed,’ said Eloise, not for the first time that day. ‘Mama, you should have seen the gentleman—’
‘I did see him, when he came this mornin’,’ said Emily.
‘No, no, I mean in ’is grand house with all ’is land,’ said Eloise. ‘Such an aristocrat. I should not ’ave been able to argue with ’im myself, no, my feet would ’ave been shaking in my shoes. Imagine, Mama, Rosie saying no to all of it. Amazing, yes, isn’t it?’
‘Here, leave off, Eloise,’ said Tim, ‘Rosie was never going to say yes to living there.’
‘But it was so magnificent,’ said Eloise.
‘This is Rosie’s home, Eloise,’ said Chinese Lady.
‘Yes,’ said Tim. ‘I bet even if Rosie was invited to Buckingham Palace for a week, she’d still come back home to us.’
‘With honours, Tim,’ said Mr Finch.
‘Rosie, I’m so relieved,’ said Emily, ‘and I’m sure me and your dad won’t mind a bit about you visitin’ Major Armitage four times a year. I think it’s right you should. I mean, he did father you and he’s been very agreeable about not makin’ any trouble.’
‘Well, he and Daddy have something in common,’ said Rosie, ‘they’re both gentlemen. Mind you, Daddy’s funnier.’
‘You can say that again,’ smiled Emily, ‘except I’m not always sure I laugh in the right places.’
‘It’s a blessing that some of you don’t mind Boots talkin’ out of the back of his head at times,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘and like I’ve said before, he didn’t get it from me or his late dad. Still, I will say your Aunt Victoria always remarked on him bein’ a born gentleman. And now what’s ’appened, Em’ly? Our Rosie’s handled Major Armitage like a born lady.’
‘Yes, you see, Grandmama, she was born of the English nobleman,’ said Eloise, ‘so she was a lady at birth, wasn’t she?’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘I meant the way she’s been brought up at home. She might easily have been like her—’ Chinese Lady checked herself before mention of Rosie’s mother fell tactlessly from her lips. ‘Well, never mind that, I’m sure we’re fortunate in all our young people. I’ve spent a worrying day thinkin’ about Rosie, but Boots was right in saying we had to leave it to her to sort things out, which was sensible of him and a change from bein’ a bit casual. Yes, our Rosie’s turned out a very capable young lady.’
‘Agreed, Maisie,’ said Mr Finch.
‘There you are, one up to you, Rosie,’ said Tim, ‘you’re a lady. And what’s more, you don’t half play with a straight bat. Of course, I knew you would.’
‘Oh, don’t mention it, Tim lovey,’ smiled Rosie.
‘What is playing with a straight bat, please?’ asked Eloise.
‘I think it means not getting bowled out,’ said Mr Finch. German-born, he had come to know cricket. One couldn’t fully relate to Boots and his family without having a love of cricket.
‘What is “bowled out”?’ asked Eloise.
‘Summer’s coming,’ said Tim, ‘so you’ll soon learn.’
Boots came in then. He looked at Rosie, a smile on his face.
‘Well done, poppet,’ he said, and Rosie warmed to his expression, one of frank and grateful affection.
‘Boots, has Major Armitage gone now?’ asked Emily.
‘Yes, and without leaving any complaints behind,’ said Boots. ‘He’d like to have Rosie under his roof, of course he would, but accepts things have to be the way she wants.’
‘Well, perhaps he’s a nice man, after all,’ said Emily.
‘Yes, he’s nice,’ said Rosie.
‘But you still knocked him for six, Rosie,’ said Tim.
‘Bowled him over,’ said Emily, and laughed. She was up in the clouds about not losing Rosie.
‘What is “knocked for six” and “bowled over”, please?’ asked Eloise.
‘That’s more cricket,’ said Tim.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Eloise.
‘Oh, you will once we start to teach you the game,’ said Tim.
‘If it’s fine on Easter Sunday, Eloise,’ said Boots, ‘we’ll let you open the batting.’
‘No, no,’ begged Eloise, ‘it will frighten me to death.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ said Tim.
‘All in the game,’ said Boots.
‘Some game,’ said Rosie, and laughed.
Chinese Lady smiled. Her family was still intact.
Later, when everyone was retiring to bed, Rosie intercepted Boots on his way to switch off the outside lamp.
‘I told you not to worry, didn’t I?’ she said.
‘Did you have it all worked out from the start?’ he asked.
‘No, not from the start,’ said Rosie, ‘only after some due thought processes. Pleased with me, are you, old thing?’
‘Love you,’ smiled Boots.
Which was all Rosie needed to hear as a reward. She might be a composed young lady and a promising undergraduate, but her adoptive father meant more to her than even he realized.
Chapter Eleven
AN OPEN CAR pulled up outside the florist’s shop in Kennington Park Road. Cassie, raven hair worn long and tied with a bright ribbon as always, glanced up from just inside the doorway, where she was rearranging a huge display of daffodils in a large stone pot. Recognizing the driver, she called to Mrs Dewhurst, wife of the owner of the shop.
‘Oh, won’t be a tick, I’m just goin’ to have a word with someone I know.’
‘That Freddy of yours, I suppose,’ smiled Mrs Dewhurs
t, who was making up a bouquet.
‘Bless him,’ said Cassie, and out of the shop she went to speak to the driver. It wasn’t Freddy, it was Boots, and Cassie’s smile sparkled in the morning light.
‘Hello, Cassie.’
‘What’re you doin’ here?’ asked Cassie.
‘Hoping to see you,’ said Boots.
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ said Cassie, ‘and I won’t tell Em’ly, or Freddy. Only I can’t go riding with you, Boots. Well, I can’t leave the shop, I’ve got to work conscientiously this week, which is my last. I’m leaving Thursday, the day before Good Friday, and gettin’ married Saturday. Oh, lor’, I think I’ve already got butterflies. Imagine that. I mean, it’s only Freddy, not the Prince of Wales. Mind, I don’t mind it’s only Freddy, because he’s always been devoted, and I’m really quite fond of him.’
‘Yes, I believe the latest gossip is that he’s your beloved,’ said Boots.
‘Oh, that Annabelle,’ said Cassie, ‘I suppose she’s the one who makes gossip stretch all the way from Walworth to Denmark Hill. Oh, what did you mean about hoping to see me?’
‘I’ve something for you,’ said Boots. ‘I understand Sammy’s giving Freddy a wedding cheque for fifty pounds.’
‘Yes, would you believe?’ said Cassie happily. ‘A cheque for all of fifty pounds to put into a bank.’
‘Well, here’s one for you, Cassie,’ said Boots, extracting an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. He handed it to her.
‘What d’you mean, one for me?’ said Cassie.
‘A cheque for fifty pounds, Cassie,’ said Boots, ‘from Emily and self to you, with our very best wishes. You’ll make a go of it with Freddy, I’m certain you will, and along with Sammy and Susie, Emily and I want to give the pair of you a good start.’
Cassie stared at the envelope.
‘Fifty pounds for me?’ she breathed, eyes a little misty.
‘You’ll find the cheque inside,’ said Boots.
‘Oh, crikey, I’m overcome,’ said Cassie, ‘I never knew anyone nicer. I could easily marry you if I wasn’t marrying Freddy and you weren’t already married to Em’ly.’
‘Well, as I don’t think it would be a good idea to get rid of either of them,’ said Boots, ‘we’ll have to leave things as they are. Good luck, Cassie, see you at St John’s on Saturday.’
‘Boots, I’ll never know how to thank you,’ said Cassie, ‘but I can kiss you, can’t I?’
‘Frankly,’ said Boots, ‘I’m all for it, and if anyone catches us we’ll talk our way out of it.’
‘Oh, you’ve always been so nice to me,’ said Cassie, and leaned over the car and kissed him warmly and fondly. When he drove away, her eyes were a little misty again. Well, who wouldn’t feel overcome by such kindness? It was no wonder that many Walworth people had such fond memories of the Adams family.
Crikey, fifty pounds. When Freddy received a similar cheque from Sammy, they’d have a hundred pounds between them. They’d put it all into the bank and save it until they were in a position to think of buying a little house. It was what Sammy and Boots wanted them to do.
From Kennington, Boots went on to Blackfriars to look in on Mr Eli Greenberg, whose large covered yard contained mountains of second-hand goods of every description. Boots, who was on his way to the Shoreditch factory, broke his journey at the yard. He needed to speak to the genial rag-and-bone man, a character so ubiquitous in the practice of his trade that there was scarcely anyone in the whole of South London who did not know him.
Mr Greenberg was at home in a manner of speaking, although invisible until he materialized out of adjoining stacks of kitchen chairs.
‘Ah, Boots my friend, to vhat do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?’
‘How’s life, Eli?’ asked Boots.
Mr Greenberg raised mittened hands and sighed.
‘You ask that of a man vith a spending vife and three stepsons?’ he said. Not long ago he had married a widow with three growing lads. ‘Boots, the expense, it vill mean no shirt to my back and an early grave.’
‘But your bed’s warmer, I daresay,’ said Boots.
‘Boots, Boots, I should ruin myself for the compensation of a varmer bed?’ said Mr Greenberg, but there was a twinkle in his eye. He may have been over fifty, but no-one could have said he was a fading physical specimen. ‘Vhat can I do for you?’
‘Listen,’ said Boots, and spoke to him about a matter touching on the double wedding, a matter he’d first broached a few days ago. Mr Greenberg smiled, and the smile became a beam. He assured Boots that all was in hand, the necessary hire had been arranged and the deposit paid. Boots said good, that he and Sammy would settle all expenses, and that it was time Eli had a telephone installed. Mr Greenberg turned pale.
‘Boots, I should have more expenses? Vhy, ain’t I got enough? And vhat vould a telephone do for me that I can’t do on my rounds? And is talkin’ on a telephone the same pleasure as talkin’ as I am to you now?’
‘You’ve got a point,’ smiled Boots. ‘Anyway, thanks for arranging everything. I’ve spoken to Freddy and Horace, but not a word to the brides, of course.’
‘Nor from me, Boots, not vun, until the day,’ said Mr Greenberg, tapping his nose. ‘Mind, a joy for them, von’t it be?’
‘Especially for Cassie,’ said Boots.
‘Ah, Cassie, such a joy alvays, ain’t she?’ said Mr Greenberg.
‘Granted, Eli,’ said Boots. Cassie, he knew, was a hard-up girl, earning a mere pittance at her job, and it was her affectionate old dad who kept her in good clothes. But Cassie had never been known to be other than as happy as a sprite of spring. ‘So long, Eli, see you at the church, old lad.’
‘Business is necessary, Boots. Vun has to live. But friendship is precious, ain’t it so?’
‘I think you’ve got something there,’ said Boots, and left.
Cassie rushed round to see Freddy that evening. Using the latchcord, into the house she went like one of the family, and through to the kitchen, where Freddy was talking to his mum and dad. Sally was upstairs, doing things relating to her wedding. Freddy was talking about his own wedding, ominously close for a bloke who was going to have a struggle to assert himself as Cassie’s better half.
‘Oh, hello, everyone,’ said Cassie, sparkling with life and rapture.
‘’Ello, Cassie love,’ said Mr Brown.
‘My, you do look lovely tonight,’ said Mrs Brown.
‘Yes, don’t I?’ said Cassie. ‘Isn’t Freddy lucky?’
‘Oh, he’s grateful as well for what the Lord’s providing him with,’ said Mrs Brown. ‘You’re goin’ to be a lovely bride, Cassie.’
‘Yes, aren’t I?’ said Cassie. Freddy grinned. In many ways, Cassie was never going to grow up. He liked that.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘what I’m specially lookin’ forward to is—’
‘Freddy, not now, not in front of your mum and dad,’ said Cassie. ‘Oh, d’you know why I’ve come round?’
‘No, I don’t exactly know right now,’ said Freddy, ‘but I expect I will in a minute.’
‘Yes, all right, Freddy beloved,’ said Cassie, and thereupon put him and his parents in the picture about the wedding gift from Boots and Emily. In proof thereof, she produced the cheque from her handbag. ‘I nearly cried all over him when Boots gave it to me.’
‘Goodness me,’ said Mrs Brown breathlessly, ‘I’d have cried buckets gettin’ a lovely weddin’ gift like that.’
‘Yes, and on top of the canteen of cutlery they’ve already given us,’ said Cassie. ‘I was overcome.’
Freddy, examining the cheque, said, ‘I’m overcome meself, Cassie, I’m goin’ to have to phone Boots and thank him personally.’
‘Freddy, you can bank the cheque with your own when Sammy gives it to you, can’t you?’ said Cassie.
‘Well, it’s made out to you,’ said Freddy.
‘No problem, son,’ said Mr Brown. ‘Just get Cassie to endorse it on the back.’
&
nbsp; ‘What’s endorsin’?’ asked Freddy, a stranger to banking procedures.
‘Just her signature,’ said Mr Brown. ‘That sort of makes it over to you as far as the bank’s concerned, and I think Sammy’s goin’ to let you ’ave your own cheque tomorrer. He’s callin’ in in the mornin’. You’ve been in touch with the Walworth Road bank, ain’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Freddy, ‘and the manager’s goin’ to have everything ready for me. I’ll only ’ave to do some signing.’
‘Freddy, you’ll be seeing the bank manager himself?’ said Cassie.
‘It’s the regular thing with a new customer,’ said Freddy.
‘Freddy, I could get proud of you seeing the bank manager himself,’ said Cassie.
‘Yes, it does sound compliment’ry,’ said Mrs Brown.
‘It’s Freddy’s cheque the manager wants to shake hands with,’ said Mr Brown.
‘Freddy, take mine as well,’ said Cassie, ‘then we’ll start the account with a hundred pounds. Oh, I’m nearly faintin’. I mean, a hundred pounds that’s all ours.’
‘What a lovely start to your marriage, Cassie,’ said Mrs Brown.
‘Lucrative, Bessie,’ said Mr Brown, ‘and ’andsome as well.’
‘All right, Cassie love,’ said Freddy, ‘sign your cheque, then.’
A pen and ink were brought from the mantelpiece by Mrs Brown, and Cassie endorsed the cheque. After which, she said, ‘Oh, don’t you think it’s nice havin’ friends like Boots and Sammy, Freddy?’
Freddy looked at her. She seemed a bit misty-eyed.
‘Well, yes, I do, Cassie,’ he said, ‘and it’s even nicer for me havin’ a friend like you.’
‘Freddy, you silly, I’m not your friend.’
‘Yes, you are, Cassie,’ said Freddy, ‘you’re my friend for life.’
Lilian, on arriving home from work that evening, found a note on her mat from her milkman. She read it with a smile.
Dear Mrs Hyams,
I thought I’d just drop you a line to say the eggs are specially good this week, all brown ones of a large size, so if you need six of the best, just put a note in your empty tomorrow morning. Also, I’m doing myself the pleasure of calling on you tomorrow evening in the hope we can spend a few hours together as I haven’t had that pleasure for a few days and it’s made me feel gloomy, which isn’t my style. Yours truly, Bill.
The Camberwell Raid Page 15