The busy days hurried by, and as autumn approached the general feeling was that an end to the long war could not be far off. There had been a new offensive against the Kaiser’s army and the newspapers were full of the battles at Meuse-Argonne, Flanders and Cambrai, where British, American, French and Belgian troops were advancing. Carrie was becoming more fearful for Danny who was back in action and experienced a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she thumbed through the ever-increasing casualty lists.
During that summer and autumn Carrie gradually became accustomed to life as a married woman. Most nights Fred was exhausted and too tired to give her the attention she desired, and on the rare occasions when he did manage to love her it was soon over, leaving Carrie with little sense of fulfillment. Her disappointment was tempered by her husband’s kindness and concern for her. She loved to feel his arm around her shoulders as they shut the shop each evening, and the brief kisses he stole in quiet moments during the day. Carrie knew that her sudden decision to become Fred’s wife had been influenced in no small degree by what had happened to her family, but she had carefully considered everything and was determined to make the union a happy one, come what may.
Joe Maitland sat facing his landlady with a serious look on his handsome face.
‘Look, Florrie, I know what yer sayin’, but it’s not as easy as all that,’ he said. ‘Fer a start, I can’t just expect the Yard blokes ter believe me wivout givin’ ’em the proof they need. Don’t ferget I’ve done time as well. Ter them I’m a lag. They wouldn’t believe me in front of one o’ their own, ’im bein’ an inspector an’ all.’
Florrie leaned back in her chair and toyed with an empty teacup, pursing her thin lips. ‘Well, what the bleedin’ ’ell are yer gonna do?’ she said finally. ‘Yer could be goin’ on like this ferever, an’ yer need ter remember what’ll ’appen if somebody finds out what yer really doin’ at those fights. After all, anybody could walk in there from over the water who reco’nises yer, an’ then it’s goodbye Joe.’
The lodger allowed himself a brief smile. ‘I’ve jus’ got ter be patient fer a while longer,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m accepted as one o’ the regulars now an’ I put meself about while I’m there. All the bookies know me an’ sooner or later somebody’s gonna let somefing slip. I’ll find out who that last toe-rag is. I’ll get ter the bottom of it all, in the end.’
‘Well, don’t go takin’ no chances, son,’ Florrie warned him. ‘If ever yer do find out who it was, let the coppers ’andle it. Yer only one on yer own. Yer wouldn’t stand a chance wiv that lot o’ no-good ’ore-sons.’
Joe’s eyes narrowed. ‘When I find out fer sure, I won’t trouble the coppers, Flo. That’s somefink I’m gonna take care of meself,’ he said firmly. ‘They can ’ave the proof about the goin’s-on there an’ the crooked copper, if I ever do get any, but that bastard who was involved in me bruvver’s death is gonna answer ter me, I swear it.’
Florrie stood up with a sigh and gathered together the empty teacups. ‘Well, I’m glad yer told me everyfing, son,’ she said. ‘I was beginnin’ ter wonder about yer comin’s an’ goin’s. I ’ad a feelin’ there was somefing goin’ on. Don’t worry though, I won’t breave a word about what yer up to. Yer can trust yer ole Florrie ter keep ’er trap shut. Now what about a fresh cuppa?’
At eleven o’clock on the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 the war finally came to an end. Along the river tug-whistles sounded, their high-pitched notes almost drowned by the booming fog-horns of the large berthed ships. Maroons were fired from the Tower of London, and paper-boys ran excitedly through the streets with special editions. Fireworks were let off and terrified horses shied, setting the carmen struggling desperately with the reins. Factories and tanneries in Bermondsey shut down for the day, and when Florrie Axford looked through her fresh lace curtains and saw Maisie Dougall talking excitedly to the neighbours she was quick to put on her coat and hurry out to the group lest she miss any of the latest news.
‘My ole man told me. Come back down the street ’specially, ’e did,’ Maisie was going on. ‘’E said ’e bumped inter Alec Crossley on ’is way ter work an’ Alec told ’im the pubs are gonna stay open all day. Well, as long as the beer lasts out anyway.’
Aggie Temple chuckled as she turned to Sadie Sullivan. ‘I fink I’ll tong me ’air an’ get me best coat out the wardrobe,’ she said. ‘I might even get me ole man ter take us up the Kings Arms before ’e gets legless.’
Sadie puckered her lips. ‘There’s special Mass at Dock’ead terday. Me an’ my Daniel are goin’ there first. ’E can get pissed afterwards,’ she declared.
Ida Bromsgrove had also seen her neighbours gathering and she knocked on Maggie Jones’s door. ‘Come on, Mag, there’s a meetin’ down the street,’ she told her.
The two women joined the group, quickly followed by Maudie Mycroft who was getting ready for the women’s meeting. ‘Good Gawd!’ was all she could say when she heard the news.
Florrie began to frown. ‘Well, this is one time I’m not gettin’ wedged in that snug bar,’ she growled. ‘I fink us women should all march inter the public bar. If they don’t like it - well, sod the bleedin’ lot of ’em. Our money’s as good as theirs.’
Maudie pulled on her bottom lip. ‘S’posin they turned us out? I’d feel such a fool,’ she said in a worried voice.
‘Let ’em try,’ Sadie said, showing Maudie her clenched fists. ‘If any o’ the men try ter chuck me out, I’ll smash ’em one.’
‘All the dockers’ll be in there, an’ the carmen from the yard,’ Maudie said fearfully.
Maggie nodded. ‘It won’t ’alf be packed in there. I bet we won’t get a seat.’
‘Well, I’m not standin’ in that poxy snug bar like a sardine in a tin,’ Florrie asserted. ‘We’re all gonna walk in that public bar an’ if the men don’t offer us a seat we’ll all stand at the counter, an’ when they see they can’t get served they’ll soon change their tune.’
‘Good fer you, Flo,’ Sadie shouted. ‘Now come on, gels, let’s get ourselves ready. C’mon, Aggie, I’ll tong your ’air an’ then yer can do mine.’
Early that evening the women of Page Street marched into the public bar of the Kings Arms and were immediately offered seats. Drinks were sent to their tables and the publican did not offer any objections. The sight of Sadie Sullivan and Florrie Axford leading the women into the establishment, with the large figure of Ida Bromsgrove following close behind, was too daunting even for the likes of the landlord.
Chapter Forty-two
During the bitter cold November and through into December the soldiers’ homecoming was celebrated, with Union Jacks hanging from upstairs windows and bunting tied across the narrow Bermondsey backstreets. In Page Street the flags were flying and folk stood at their front doors as the young men arrived back home from the mud and carnage of the Western Front. Maisie’s son Albert was the first to arrive, looking pale and thin but in good spirits as he strolled proudly down the street in his khaki uniform with its shining buttons, wearing puttees over his highly polished boots. One week later Joe Sullivan came home to a tearful reunion with his mother. His father stood back, smiling broadly and brushing a tear from his eye as he waited for his wife to release their son from a huge bear-hug. Billy stood beside his father and waited to greet his younger brother, smiling broadly and holding himself erect even though his chest was hurting. One week later the Jones boy sauntered into the street wearing his MM ribbon and chewing arrogantly on a plug of tobacco.
In early December Danny Tanner arrived home to a flag-bedecked Bacon Street and an emotional reunion with his parents. Nellie stood back and eyed him up and down critically.
‘Yer look pale. Yer need a good dinner inside yer, son,’ she said, fighting back her tears of joy.
William pumped his son’s hand and immediately noticed the power in his grasp. ‘Yer look well, boy. Yer put on a bit o’ weight too,’ he remarked.
Danny shrugged hi
s broad shoulders and grinned, his blue eyes twinkling in his wide face as he picked up his kitbag. ‘I bin doin’ some boxin’, Pop. I was the regimental champion,’ he said proudly.
Nellie shook her head and sighed deeply. ‘I’ll never understand you men. Didn’t yer see enough blood wivout knockin’ yer mates silly?’ she moaned.
Danny glanced quickly at his father and then beckoned to a strong-looking lad who was watching the homecoming. ‘’Ere, son, carry me kitbag upstairs fer me, will yer?’ he asked, handing the lad a silver threepenny piece.
‘Ain’t yer comin’ in?’ Nellie said with a disappointed look on her face.
‘Later, Ma. I wanna see Billy Sullivan first,’ he replied, backing away up the street.
Danny was stopped in his tracks by a loud shriek as Carrie came running into the turning. He staggered back a pace as she threw herself into his arms.
‘I knew yer’d be all right. I jus’ knew yer’d come ’ome in one piece,’ she gasped, kissing him.
Danny was grinning as he finally broke away. He gave the lad by his kitbag an exaggerated glare. ‘Well, go on then, carry it up,’ he growled.
Carrie slipped her arm through his and smiled lovingly at him. ‘C’ mon in an’ I’ll tell yer all the news,’ she said excitedly.
‘Look, sis, I wanna slip round an’ see Billy first,’ he said.
Carrie took a tighter grip on his arm. ‘Billy can wait a bit longer. First yer gonna eat,’ she laughed, pulling him close to her. ‘Fred give me some sardines fer yer. I told ’im ’ow much yer like sardines.’
Danny knew it was useless to protest any more and he allowed himself to be led up the dusty wooden stairs to the family home.
The Kings Arms was packed with customers on Friday evening and in the public bar the Tanner family was gathered to celebrate Danny’s homecoming. Carrie sat with her mother in one corner and they chatted happily their eyes occasionally straying towards their menfolk who were standing at the counter. Fred and William were listening to Danny’s account of his experiences in France but their attention was being distracted by a noisy conversation going on beside them. The large figure with a bloated and battered face was leaning on the counter his massive fists clenched on either side of his half-empty glass of ale.
He suddenly turned his head sideways, his eyes boring into his companion’s. ‘That was the fifth inside the distance. None of ’em last very long,’ he sneered. ‘Not against me they don’t.’
‘Got anyfink lined up?’ the carman asked respectfully.
His harsh laugh boomed out. ‘Yer better ask Galloway. I don’t make the matches or pick me opponents, I only knock ’em out.’
Danny was becoming irritated by the man’s loud boasting. ‘Who’s that loud-mouthed git?’ he asked, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
His father’s face became stern. ‘That’s Jake Mitchell,’ he told him. ‘’E’s always in ’ere braggin’ about the fights ’e’s ’ad. Take no notice.’
Danny became quiet as he sipped his drink. While he was away Carrie had been writing to him about everything that was happening at home and she had explained how Jake Mitchell had taken over their father’s job. Danny’s blood had boiled when he learned of his father’s treatment at the hands of George Galloway and now he could feel his anger slowly rising again as he listened to the ring-scarred brute at the counter. His handsome face became set hard. Slowly he moved so that he was standing against the counter with his back to Jake Mitchell.
‘Does ’e ’ave ter shout? We don’t all wanna ’ear ’is business,’ Danny said loudly.
William shook his head and pulled a face but his son ignored the warning. ‘Does ’e fink everybody’s deaf in ’ere?’ he went on goading.
Mitchell was bellowing with laughter, unaware of what Danny was saying, and the young man became impatient. He turned to Mitchell’s companion and whispered something in his ear. The carman’s face took on a frightened look and he stared at the young Tanner with wide eyes.
‘What’s ’e say?’ Mitchell asked quickly, seeing the carman’s reaction.
‘Nuffink, Jake.’
‘I asked yer what ’e said,’ the large man growled menacingly.
Danny turned to face Mitchell. ‘I told ’im ter tell yer ter keep yer voice down. We can’t ’ear what we’re talkin’ about,’ he said, putting his glass down on the counter.
The frightened carman backed away from the counter as he saw Mitchell’s eyes start to bulge, and William quickly stepped in front of his son. ‘’E’s just back from the front,’ he said quietly, trying to defuse the situation.
‘So this is yer boy, is it?’ Mitchell sneered. ‘Got a lot ter say fer ’imself, ain’t ’e? Well, if I was you I’d tell ’im not ter get too lippy, ’e might come unstruck.’
Before William could reply, Danny took him by the shoulders and gently eased him to one side. ‘So you’re the famous Jake Mitchell, are yer?’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve ’eard a lot about you. Bin knockin’ ’em all out, so yer told everybody. Well, maybe now the war’s over you’ll get a better class o’ fighter up against yer.’
Mitchell moved forward menacingly. ‘Yer not includin’ yerself on that list, are yer, sonny?’ he sneered.
Danny grinned calmly. ‘Yer past it, Mitchell. Yer wouldn’t go the distance wiv me.’
Carrie and her mother had jumped up from their seats and as they tried to pull Danny away Alec Crossley leapt smartly over the counter and placed himself in front of Jake Mitchell. ‘The war’s over, pal, an’ I’m not gonna be a party ter any more ’ostilities. Now drink up an’ let’s ’ave no more of it. That goes fer you too, Danny. Understood?’
Mitchell’s eyes were bulging. ‘Me an’ you, sonny, first opportunity. An’ we’ll ’ave our own little side bet on the outcome,’ he sneered.
Danny nodded. ‘Suits me fine. Sooner the better,’ he said, turning his back.
‘You’ll be ’earin’ when, Tanner,’ Galloway’s foreman shouted over as the publican hustled him to the door.
When Mitchell had left Nellie rounded on her son. ‘I’m not ’avin’ it!’ she raved. ‘I told yer, I won’t allow a boy o’ mine ter be a fighter. Christ Almighty! Ain’t yer ’ad enough o’ fightin’? Do somefink, Will. Tell ’im.’
William shrugged his shoulders. ‘’E’s a bit too big fer me ter chastise. Did yer see the way ’e put me ter one side?’ he grinned.
Nellie gave him a withering look and flounced back to her seat, while Carrie smiled slyly at her younger brother. ‘Yer’d better get inter trainin’,’ she said quietly.
Florrie Axford was sitting in her parlour with her friends. Nellie had joined the company but looked pale and ill. She clasped her hands nervously as Florrie banged her fist down on the table.
‘We done it before at the Kings Arms an’ we’ll do it again at the Crown,’ she declared. ‘If we all go there tergevver, they daren’t stop us goin’ in. We’ll tell ’em we want ter place bets an’ we’re gonna cheer our boy on.’
‘I couldn’t go,’ Maudie said, shuddering. ‘First drop o’ blood spilled an’ I’d be ill, I know I would.’
‘Well, nobody’s makin’ yer. Jus’ give us yer bet money an’ we’ll put it on fer yer,’ Sadie scowled at her.
‘I couldn’t bet on men killin’ each over,’ Maudie went on.
‘Don’t be so melodramatic,’ Florrie said sharply. ‘Danny ain’t gonna kill ’im. ’E’s only gonna knock that ugly great git right out, ain’t ’e, Nell?’
Nell looked very worried. ‘I wish ’e’d never got ’imself inter this,’ she sighed weakly. ‘’E knows ’ow I feel about fightin’.’
Sadie waved her anxieties away with a sweep of her large arm. ‘Don’t worry, Nell,’ she blustered. ‘My Billy’s ’elpin’ ’im wiv ’is trainin’ an’ ’e knows all about such fings. Matter o’ fact it’s a pleasure ter see Billy takin’ an interest in somefing at last. ’E’s bin a different lad since your Danny come back ’ome. It was nice ter see the pair of �
��em this mornin’, goin’ out runnin’ in the park. Mind yer, my Billy come back lookin’ like a train ’ad ’it ’im an’ ’e was wheezin’ like a concertina. Poor sod’s chest ain’t too good.’
Tanner Trilogy 01 - Gaslight in Page Street Page 57