As dawn broke and the long, even wail of the all clear sounded, Bill and Dora opened up their pub. The dust-caked policeman stood at the end of the turning, directing the homeless into Salter Street. They filed past, grey-faced and shaking. Women were quietly sobbing and sleepy-eyed children looked around curiously as Dora poured tea into large mugs and passed them around along with sandwiches of cheese and breakfast sausage. Jennie and Connie came down into the public bar carrying more blankets which they wrapped around the elderly women.
The policeman cycled up and came into the bar. ‘’Ow we doin’, Bill?’ he asked, sitting himself down heavily beside the counter.
‘Well, we got ’em settled fer a bit. What’s the news?’
The constable took off his steel helmet and put it down on the counter. ‘It was a bloody miracle. Everybody’s accounted for. They was all over the shelter. We dug Mrs Harriman’s dog out o’ the rubble an’ it shook itself an’ trotted off large as life. It was a bloody miracle.’
As the winter sun climbed up into the sky, vans arrived to transport the homeless to the nearby rest centres. Dora and Bill began their task of getting the pub ready for the first customers and the girls left for work. They picked their way through the debris out into the Old Kent Road.
As they walked along to the Bricklayers Arms Jennie glanced at her friend. ‘I was terrified last night, Con,’ she said. ‘I bet there wasn’t ’alf some damage done.’
Connie shivered and pulled her coat up around her ears. ‘When that loud bang went I ducked under the clothes. I thought the pub was goin’ ter crash down on us.’
They could see the devastation of the air raid as they reached the corner of Tower Bridge Road. Streetlamps were down and there was glass and rubble everywhere. One or two of the shops had had their windows blown out and there was a large crater in the middle of the junction. Buses were being diverted and the trams were lined up waiting as emergency crews worked feverishly to lay new tracks.
Jennie slipped her arm through Connie’s as they crossed the road. ‘Well, it was quiet over Christmas, Con. I’m jus’ sorry I talked yer inter that party,’ she said, staring ahead. ‘I thought it would do yer good.’
Connie smiled. ‘The party was okay. It was jus’ me. I wasn’t really up to it.’
‘You sure Sammy didn’t try anyfing?’ Jennie asked quickly.
‘No, Jen. As I told yer, ’e got a bit ’andy, but ’e soon got the message.’
Jennie sighed. ‘Me an’ Steve are ’avin’ it off, but yer guessed that, didn’t yer?’
‘Yeah, I guessed it.’
‘Gawd knows what me folks are gonna say when they find out. Trouble is, Steve’s older than me, an’ ’e’s got a bit of a reputation for runnin’ aroun’ wiv a dodgy crowd. Me dad don’t like ’im very much. ’E finks Steve’s too flash, but ’e ain’t really.’
Connie shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s never easy, is it? There’s always problems when yer get serious wiv someone. I know ’ow it was when I started goin’ wiv Robert. ’E was older, too, and not our sort. Poor Aunt ’Elen used ter worry ’erself sick about it. Fing is, yer gotta sort it out before yer get too close. Don’t let anybody change yer mind for yer. Nobody could talk me out o’ goin’ wiv Robert an’ I don’t regret one minute of the time I spent wiv ’im. My only regret is that it was all too short. I miss ’im terrible.’
It was Monday morning and, as they reached the factory entrance Connie sighed deeply. There was another long day ahead, another long week of monotonous grind. It seemed as though everything was pressing down on her and squeezing the life juices from her protesting body. She felt old, dry and weary and she wished more than anything that she could walk on past the factory and just keep on walking. Connie realised she hadn’t eaten any breakfast that morning. Her mouth was parched and her head felt heavy. She wanted a strong drink right at the moment and it made her feel anxious. She had been drinking too much; it was taking hold of her. She knew that if she didn’t slow down she would make herself very ill. Would that be so bad, she thought? There seemed to be nothing for her to live for. Life without Robert was empty and meaningless. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing but dark days and darker nights. Only in the evenings, when she was serving behind the bar, could she begin to forget her misery a little, taking a drink or two and letting the burning spirit blunt her senses and promise a dream-free sleep. Alcohol had become like a friend to her, and she was afraid that it would betray her.
Jennie was looking at her strangely. ‘C’mon, Con or we’ll be late clockin’ in,’ she said with a frown.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Connie had hardly noticed him at first. He worked as a labourer at the factory and one of his tasks was to pull trolleys of treated leathers into the workroom. Jimmy Pope was tall and slim, with a pleasant smile and an open face that bespoke a cheerful nature. He was active and strong and when he was summoned to an army medical the girls at the factory got ready to say their goodbyes. Everyone was surprised, and no one more than he himself, when he was rejected for military service. They said it was a heart murmur and suggested that he consult his family doctor. When Jimmy followed the advice and contacted his ageing doctor he was told not to worry.
‘The army people were probably coming down on the side of caution. Your father had the same condition, Mr Pope and, as I remember, he was nearing eighty-four when he passed away. It’s hereditary and I shouldn’t give it another thought. Just be thankful you’ve escaped the call-up.’
Jimmy was not sure he had escaped anything. Some of the call-up dodgers were getting a hard time and he knew he would have to carry his medical card around with him to satisfy the interfering busybodies. There was bound to be some malicious gossip too, but being a cheerful sort of person, Jimmy went back to work and decided he was lucky after all. He wrote a letter to his wife, who had been evacuated to Suffolk with the two children, telling her she could stop worrying about him going into the army. He had been rejected owing to a perforated eardrum. He thought a little white lie was needed to put Ruby’s mind at rest. Knowing her, if he told her the truth she would be expecting him to drop dead at any minute.
Connie had been living with the sorrow of Robert’s death for some time before she began to notice Jimmy. In some ways he reminded her of her lost lover. He was tall like Robert, and he seemed to have a similar devil-may-care attitude. In looks they were very different, however. Robert had been fair, with blue eyes which had made her weak with excitement. Jimmy was dark, with large brown eyes and he wasn’t handsome. It was his mannerisms which reminded her most of Robert, and Connie found herself watching him whenever he came into the workroom. She felt no physical attraction towards the young man, only a curiosity, and Jimmy slowly became aware of it. He had heard about the tall, pretty girl with the long blond hair whose fiancé had been killed in action and when he noticed her watching him every time he came near her Jimmy began to get interested. He was missing Ruby and Connie Morgan was certainly very pretty. She must be feeling lonely, too, he reasoned. Maybe he should get talking to her and ask her out for a drink one evening. It wouldn’t be for sexual reasons, he told himself without really believing it, but just a friendly relationship with someone who was also lonely.
He had started talking to Connie before Christmas and, after the holiday was over and he had said goodbye to Ruby and the kids once again, Jimmy decided it was time to try his luck. Her response to his suggestion that they go for a drink one evening surprised him.
‘Okay,’ she said without any hesitation. ‘It’ll make a change.’ Jimmy walked out of the workroom whistling to himself, and Connie smiled at Jennie across the work bench. ‘Well it will make a change, won’t it?’ she said.
Jennie raised her hands and grinned. ‘I never said anyfing. Jus’ be careful, yer know ’e’s married.’
‘Yeah I know,’ Connie replied quickly. ‘I’m goin’ fer a drink wiv ’im, that’s all.’
Jennie saw the look in her friend’s eyes a
nd she turned her attention to the leather strips she was stamping.
The January weather was particularly cold and the sky was heavy with gathering snow clouds. Inside the riverside pub the coke fire was banked high and the light from the flickering flames played on the low oak beams and grimy plastered ceiling. The landlord leaned on the bar counter, his chin resting on his cupped hand, his sleepy eyes struggling to stay focused on the old man facing him. They were discussing war, and the differences between trench warfare and tank battles. The old man was doing most of the talking and the landlord was striving to stay awake. The only other people in the bar were the young couple sitting near the warm fire, and they were beginning to feel the effects of the drink they had consumed that evening.
Jimmy was twirling his half-empty glass on the table. ‘Do yer fink about meetin’ somebody in the future an’ gettin’ married?’ he asked her. ‘I mean, yer young. In time yer might see fings differently.’
Connie shrugged. The whisky had started to take the coldness away and she felt strangely at ease. ‘I dunno. I try not ter look too far inter the future. I ’ad a wonderful fella an’ ’e’s gone. No one could take ’is place.’
Jimmy looked into her icy blue eyes. ‘I miss me wife an’ kids,’ he said without taking his eyes from her. ‘Loneliness is a terrible fing, Con. We both know that.’
She returned his stare. He was attractive in a weak sort of way, she thought. He was somehow childlike and open, and his suggestive look did not anger her. She felt he was playing his hand without deceit, and she decided to go along with him for a while. ‘Tell me, Jimmy,’ she said, clasping her hands on the table top. ‘Would yer cheat on yer wife?’
Jimmy was taken aback by the question. ‘Yer mean would I make love wiv somebody else?’
‘That’s what I mean,’ Connie said, a ghost of a smile touching her pale face.
‘It’s a difficult question. Ruby’s away in the country an’ I’m’ere alone. I s’pose it could ’appen, if I met somebody who I was attracted to.’
Connie’s smile broadened. ‘Did yer fink about cheatin’ on Ruby when yer asked me out fer a drink, Jimmy?’
The young man drained his glass and gritted his teeth as the spirit burned his throat. ‘You’re puttin’ me in a corner, Con. I’d better get us anuvver drink.’
She watched him walk unsteadily to the counter and saw the landlord straighten up with a thankful look on his face. What had brought her with him to this quiet pub on a freezing cold night? she wondered. Was it just for company, and a chance to get pleasantly merry, or was it really her need for physical warmth? Would lovemaking help to take away the constant ache which tormented her every waking minute? She remembered how angry she had got when Jennie looked knowingly at her at the factory that morning, and she felt a little guilty.
Jimmy had sat down at the table with their drinks and he was looking at her. ‘Yer was askin’ me about what I was finkin’ when I asked yer out. Well I tell yer, Connie, I’ve bin attracted ter yer fer a long time. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t’elp meself. Yer a very pretty woman.’
Connie smiled and watched him as he dropped his eyes and ran his finger around the rim of his glass. ‘Do yer want ter make love ter me?’ she asked him suddenly, shocked at her own forthrightness.
‘Yes, I do,’ he said simply.
She took a sip from her glass and put it down on the table. ‘I don’t want ter get involved emotionally wiv anybody, Jimmy. I couldn’t stand it. I like yer, an’ I could easily go ter bed wiv yer, but yer married an’ I’m not gonna get involved again. I couldn’t.’
He looked at her closely, his eyes unblinking. ‘Listen, Con. I fink the world of Ruby an’ the kids, an’ there’s nufink I wouldn’t do fer ’em, but right this minute I’d give anyfing ter make love ter yer. I’ve gotta be honest. Sometimes a man ’as physical needs, wivout gettin’ serious or anyfing. I’m sorry, Con, but I can’t lie ter yer.’
‘Women ’ave needs, too, Jimmy.’
They left the quiet riverside pub and walked out into the black, cold night. She took his arm and their footsteps sounded loudly on the cobbled street. Connie felt warm inside and strangely elated. He was telling her about when he was a lad, and how he often used to play down at the water’s edge. She could hear the excited lilt in his voice and felt his arm trembling a little. They entered Jamaica Road and soon they were standing outside his house. Jimmy glanced around nervously as he inserted the key and pushed on the front door. They walked into the dark, stale-smelling room and she was in his arms. His urgent kiss pressed down on her waiting lips and his hands groped about her body. The ceiling spun above her head as he eased her down on to the low divan and, as he slipped his trembling hands beneath her dress, she moved to help him. It was unreal, like a dream, and he was mute as his caresses became more intense. She was his secret adventure, his mistress for a night who he could not take to his marriage bed. She knew that it would be too much like betrayal for them to go to the bedroom. Here in the darkness, prone on the divan, the act of love would allow him some vestige of comfort. The sanctity of his marriage would not be profaned. She felt his loving and she closed her eyes. He was tender yet urgent. He was an experienced lover but he was inconsiderate, and it was over before she had become fully aroused. There was no fulfilment and no tenderness, only a sense of relief and thankfulness that she had been able to make peace with herself as a woman again. She held him as he lay exhausted against her body, and she dreamed that maybe sometime in the hazy future she would be able to give herself completely.
He left her a few doors away from the little public house in Salter Street. It was nearing midnight and when she let herself in the side door Connie saw that the kitchen light was on and Jennie was still up. Her small round face was creased in pain and anguish as she sat slumped in an upright chair beside the dying fire.
‘Did yer enjoy yer evenin’ out?’ Jennie said wincing, her hands pressing down on the tops of her thighs.
Connie took off her coat and threw it over the back of a chair, ignoring the question. She searched Jennie’s face as she stood over her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Yer look white as a sheet.’
Jennie screwed up her face and tensed as another sharp spasm attacked the pit of her stomach. ‘I’m in agony, Con. It’s the pills I took. They’re givin’ me ’ell.’
‘What pills? What yer talkin’ about?’
The spasm passed and Jennie sagged in the chair. ‘I’m a week overdue, and I’m always on the dot. Steve took me to a chemist ’e knows an’ we got some pills. They’re murderin’ me. I’m in agony.’
Connie leaned forward in her chair. ‘Yer silly cow. What yer let ’im talk yer inter takin’ pills for?’
The white-faced young woman dabbed at her hot forehead with a creased-up handkerchief. ‘I ’ad ter do somefink. They’d kill me if I was pregnant.’ Another spasm knotted her insides and she got up quickly, holding her stomach and making for the yard. Connie followed her to the back door and stood biting her lip as her friend doubled up in pain.
‘Leave me, Con. I’ll be all right,’ she groaned, running out through the open door.
Connie walked back into the kitchen and slumped down wearily in the armchair. For a while she stared into the white ashes, and then her eyes went to the sideboard. The bottle of whisky was still there as usual and Connie pursed her lips. Just a little one, she decided. It’ll make me sleep. She walked over to the sideboard and as she uncorked the bottle she saw a note. ‘Mr Preedy called to see Connie.’ She poured herself a drink and swallowed it quickly. The name did not mean anything to her. She poured herself some more whisky. The sound of the back yard toilet being flushed made her gulp down the drink, and as she flopped back into the chair Jennie walked in.
Jennie grinned sheepishly and slumped down in the armchair facing Connie. ‘I fink the pills are beginnin’ ter work, Con. I feel sort o’ funny,’ she said.
Connie stood up wearily. ‘Let’s get yer up ter bed. Yer’ll be
all right. I’ll stay wiv yer, Jen.’
Jennie waved her friend away. ‘Don’t fuss, Con. I wanna be on me own. Don’t worry, I’ll call yer if I need to.’
‘Yer sure? I don’t like leavin’ yer like that.’
Another spasm made Jennie wince. ‘I’m sure,’ she grated.
Connie put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. ‘Yer’d better get ter bed, Jen. If yer mum sees yer like that she’ll guess somefink’s up.’
‘Yer right. I’ll get upstairs. By the way, there was an ole bloke called in ter see yer. ’E wouldn’t leave a message. ’E said’e’d come back termorrer night. ’E did tell me ’is name but I fergot it. Mum wrote it down somewhere.’
Connie got up and took her friend by the arm. ‘Look, are yer goin’ ter bed? I’ll talk ter yer more in the mornin’. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the fire’s out an’ I’ll see ter the lights.’
Jennie sighed and clutched at her stomach. ‘I’m on me way. Night, Con.’
‘Night, Jen.’
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