Not All Tarts Are Apple

by Pip Granger

  I think that Auntie Maggie, Uncle Bert, Madame Zelda and Paulette may have known some of this already, because they showed no surprise. Luigi and Sharky, on the other hand, seemed taken aback.

  Luigi broke the long silence. ‘If she’s worth a few bob, what the hell is she doing flogging herself for a bottle of gin, then?’

  The question hung in the air, unanswered.

  ‘So it has come to that, has it?’ Great-aunt Dodie said in an unsteady voice. ‘I have wondered. I have sent money to her when she has asked and when she has deigned to let me know where she is. Once, we met at the Dorchester for tea and I told her about her account but she merely said that she would rather die than touch anything Godfrey provided, directly or indirectly. She could not or would not understand that it was hers and had little to do with Godfrey. She just said that he ran the business that brought in the money and repeated that she would not touch it.’

  I noticed that during this bit of the conversation Great-aunt Dodie’s voice wobbled. Mr Herbert moved a little closer to her and took her hand under the table; Luigi kept shaking his head slightly, as if to clear it; and Sharky stared absently at my great-aunt but said nothing.

  Auntie Maggie’s voice was brisk. ‘I’m sure Cassie has her reasons, and whatever they are, they’re obviously good enough for her. But chewing this particular lump of fat isn’t sorting anything out. We need to find Cassie and we need to have some sort of plan for dealing with Charlie on Monday, with or without her.’

  ‘You’re right, Maggie,’ Sharky said. ‘I tried calling the number I had for her, but it’s out of order. Sounds as if she hasn’t paid the bill. Of course, she could have moved again and not let anyone know yet. Has anyone seen her since she was with that Greek at the Sovereign Club?’

  Everyone shook their head.

  ‘Righto,’ Sharky continued. ‘That’s our first priority then. Find her, sober her up if necessary and have her here for Monday. I think it is unlikely that we shall find out exactly what Fluck wants unless she’s here. If he felt like telling any of us, he would have done so.’

  Luigi was charged with getting his numerous relatives and contacts on to the search, Madame Zelda said she’d ask her punters and Uncle Bert said we’d ask ours, although he said it was likely that we would just have to wait and see.

  ‘It’s not as if the word isn’t out,’ he commented. ‘It’s been out since we got home from Aggie. She must either have gone to ground for some reason or she’s gone walkabout again. She must take after you, Dodie. She’s always off gallivanting somewhere.’

  ‘What about asking T.C. to find her?’ This was Auntie Maggie’s suggestion and it was met with a considerable silence. It never occurred to any of our lot to involve Old Bill in our troubles. It just wasn’t done. On the other hand, everyone liked T.C. despite his calling and they knew he had a soft spot for my mum, despite hers.

  ‘It’s worth a shot, I s’pose,’ Uncle Bert muttered reluctantly, and so we decided to enlist him as well.

  The next item on the agenda was what to do about the break-ins, if anything. It went against everyone’s grain to let Charlie and Dave get away with these. All doubt that they were involved had disappeared since Charlie’s visit. He was far too sure of himself and, when he waved around the envelope that most of us assumed had contained my adoption papers, he’d more or less told us so. On the other hand, we couldn’t let it go indefinitely. Sharky and Uncle Bert pointed out that if the word got around that you could break in and nick things at will, every bugger’d be at it in no time. No, retribution was essential, but after the other matter was sorted, not before.

  Great-aunt Dodie, Mr Herbert, Madame Zelda and Paulette stayed on long after I had been put to bed. Luigi left straight after the meeting, saying that he had better make a start on finding the Perfumed Lady. Uncle Bert went out too as he had an appointment with Maltese Joe. Sharky hung on for another brandy or two and a quiet chat with my great-aunt. He gave me a funny look when he got up to go. At the door, he asked Auntie Maggie something in a very quiet voice. All I could hear was ‘Bert’ and ‘tomorrow’ and ‘serious money’, and then he was gone.

  Auntie Maggie turned back to the others sitting in the corner. ‘Anybody hungry?’ she asked.

  Great-aunt Dodie didn’t want to be a bother and it took a while to persuade her that she wasn’t. We all had egg, bacon, chips and fried tomatoes and it was almost as good as Uncle Bert’s.

  Shortly after our meal I was taken upstairs for my bath, but first I got to kiss everyone goodnight and Great-aunt Dodie promised to come and read a bit of The Wind in the Willows to me. I felt I needed the comfort. I always associated Ratty, Toad, Moley and Badger with the Perfumed Lady. I think, looking back, it gave me the comfort of feeling that she was somewhere near and safe. More than anything, I wanted her to be safe.

  28

  Friday and Saturday crawled by. Madame Zelda, Paulette and Luigi breezed in and out at regular intervals, but nobody had anything to report. The search was still on for the Perfumed Lady. Luigi had been to her flat but the woman who answered the door swore that she had never even heard of my mum.

  On the Saturday, Great-aunt Dodie took me to the zoo and then for tea at a posh hotel. I liked the rides at the zoo – the elephants were almost as good as donkeys – but not hairy enough or blessed with the same sense of humour. It was a nice trip out and we got along fine together, but we were both a bit subdued. It seems, looking back, that it was always like that when we were hunting for my mum. Everyone went a bit quiet, preoccupied. It was as if we were holding our breath, afraid of what we might find.

  The cafe was closed for the day when we got back. Madame Zelda and Paulette were upstairs with Auntie Maggie, and Uncle Bert was out. Auntie Maggie was sewing labels into my new school clothes. The autumn term was almost upon us, and I was glad; in fact I was even looking forward to it. I had enjoyed our stay at Aggie on Horseback, don’t get me wrong, but I was relieved to be home again. I had hoped that life would settle back to normal as soon as we clapped eyes on the dear old cafe. But it hadn’t. I was heartily sick of alarms and surprises. Perhaps, I thought, the routine of school would help me to forget about the new family that had been foisted on me. We had got along fine without them so far; and now I felt pretty keen to get along without them again. I was happy enough to include Great-aunt Dodie and Mr Herbert in our clan, but I really didn’t want the others. Somewhere deep inside me was the conviction that had Ghastly Godfrey or the vapid half-wit Evelyn been fit to know, then the Perfumed Lady wouldn’t have run away from them. But she had, and, what is more, I now knew she would rather starve than have them anywhere near her.

  Great-aunt Dodie stayed long enough to have a swift whisky and then left. She and Mr Herbert were going to the theatre but she didn’t say what she was planning to see. Not that it would have meant much to me if she had. Despite being surrounded by theatres, we didn’t often go. We went to the pictures instead.

  Paulette read The Borrowers to me for a bit when I was in bed that night. Rustles and squeaks from under the floorboards ceased to hold any terrors for me once I’d discovered these wonderful little people. I loved the notion of the tiny little tea-leaves nicking cotton reels, drawing pins and buttons for their own purposes. I took to making up miniature beds in matchboxes in case they fancied a lie-down and left out tempting snacks on the minute dolls’ plates, and was most disappointed when the bed covers remained unruffled and the food untouched. All in all, I was so taken with The Borrowers that I rather hoped they’d move into my doll’s house. Paulette joined in the make-believe and we had a fine old time. Uncle Bert still wasn’t home when I finally went to sleep at about ten o’clock.

  I was woken up two or three hours later by the sound of the cafe door being slammed and stumbling steps on the stairs. Muffled giggles and soft swear words floated up to me. I heard the bed creak next door as Auntie Maggie climbed out of it. Then I heard her open the bedroom door.

  ‘About time and all,
Bert Featherby. Where the hell have you been?’

  ‘Shoosh, Maggie love, you’ll wake our Rosie. Come and see what I’ve found.’

  I heard two sets of footsteps descend the stairs into the cafe. It sounded as if Uncle Bert fell the last few, judging by the muttered ‘Sod it!’

  ‘Watch yourself, Bert,’ Auntie Maggie hissed. ‘You’re Brahms, aren’t you? Gordon Bennett, I’ll say you are. You smell like a bleeding distillery.’

  I didn’t hear much after that and I must have gone back to sleep. The next thing I knew, it was morning and Auntie Maggie was standing beside my bed.

  ‘Morning, love. I’ve got your breakfast almost on the table. Be as quiet as a mouse when you get up, won’t you. Uncle Bert has a sore head this morning and so has your mum. So creep about until they surface, there’s a good girl.’

  When Uncle Bert did appear, he looked like death warmed up. His eyes were bleary, his skin red and dry-looking, his hair a mess. He couldn’t even face his pipe, let alone breakfast. Auntie Maggie made him endless cups of black coffee and at last he was in a position to tell us about the night before.

  He had gone out with Luigi but they had decided to split up and spread their search a little wider. Uncle Bert had toured the spielers and had finally found my mum with her Greek in tow at one of Maltese Joe’s places. It had taken a while to prise her loose from her Greek, Uncle Bert told us. The Perfumed Lady had had a few, and hadn’t been too keen to leave such a good meal ticket. The Greek was loaded and generous with it, a combination that my mum always found irresistible – which I reflected later, made it all the more sinister that she’d abandoned a family stiff with readies. Come the end, Maltese Joe’s Frankie had had to sit on the Greek while Uncle Bert hustled my mum out of the place and into a taxi. It had been hard work getting her to the cafe – ‘like wrestling with a bloody octopus’, or so Uncle Bert said.

  The rest of that Sunday was spent trying to sober my mum up and get her to understand what was going on. It was impossible to leave her because she kept trying to make a break for it. She had been on what Auntie Maggie called ‘a bender’ for some days and wasn’t ready to come out of it yet, hence her bids for freedom. Auntie Maggie called in reinforcements and Madame Zelda, Paulette and Luigi all took turns in staying with her.

  No one would let me see her but I kept hearing her sobs and screams. She was ranting on about snakes crawling all over her and bugs coming out of the wall. Or was it bugs crawling all over her and snakes coming out of the wall? I’m not sure, but I did know it was all very scary.

  It was quite a relief when Great-aunt Dodie and Mr Herbert showed up with a large bottle of gin. The general opinion was that the snakes and bugs would disappear once she had a little drink. The trick was to keep it little.

  29

  The arrival of Great-aunt Dodie had an amazing effect on the Perfumed Lady.

  You could tell the old lady was not amused as soon as she came in the door and heard the racket coming from my mother’s room. Her awesome features hardened as Paulette explained that my mum had a dose of the ‘screaming abdabs’. It was years before I discovered that the correct medical term for the DTs was not ‘screaming abdabs’. Anyway, the old girl’s countenance was set like concrete as she instructed Mr Herbert to look after me while she sorted out my mother. We heard her stump steadily up the stairs and Paulette remarked she was glad she wasn’t the one in line for a bollocking. We just had time to nod our agreement with this sentiment when we heard, ‘Cassandra, stop that nonsense immediately.’

  With that, Auntie Maggie, Uncle Bert, Madame Zelda and Luigi trooped down the stairs and into the cafe. We were all very subdued as we listened to the sounds wafting down from above. It was obvious that a slug of gin had worked its miracle and the snakes and bugs had disappeared. It was also obvious that Great-aunt Dodie was not interested in explanations or excuses.

  ‘I said be quiet, Cassandra, and get into that bath,’ we heard her say. ‘No, leave the door open and I’ll hang on to your clothes. You are not going to make a break for it through the window. If you do, you’ll have to do it starkers.’

  We heard vigorous splashing noises and yelps of protest followed by a lot of muttering punctuated by my mother’s voice shouting, ‘I won’t!’

  ‘Oh yes, you will,’ Great-aunt Dodie replied. ‘You made this filthy mess and by God you will clear it up.’ Then she roared down the stairs, ‘Rosa, please bring a bucket, a mop and a floorcloth up here, will you?’

  Auntie Maggie and I scurried into the kitchen to get the things and I trundled up the stairs with them toot bloody sweet, I can tell you. I shall never forget the sight that greeted me when I got to the door of my mum’s room. The place was a tip. Furniture had been overturned, there was sick on the floor and all over the bed and my mum was huddled in the middle, her thin arms wrapped around her heaving body. Great-aunt Dodie towered over her, face stern as she held what looked like a cocktail dress between the finger and thumb of her right hand. Her voice was quiet but you wouldn’t have wanted to argue with it.

  ‘I said get dressed, Cassandra, and I mean it. You may have another snort when and only when this room is clean again and you have washed your bedding. The sooner you start, the sooner you may have your gin.’

  Now I was something of an authority on the sulks and my mum had the right hump. Her face was sullen and her voice whiny but defiant. ‘I won’t! I don’t feel well and if I start on that lot I’ll only throw up again. I didn’t ask you to come and I’m too old to be pushed around like a little kid. So piss off back to Bath and leave me alone!’

  Great-aunt Dodie drew herself up to her considerable height, grabbed my mum by her thin upper arm and heaved her to her feet. Anger shone in her eyes as she leaned very close to my mum’s startled, tear-stained and blotchy face. I had to strain to hear her voice, but the menacing tone was unmistakable.

  ‘Listen carefully, as I shall say this only once. These good people have cared for you and your child for years now. They have done it willingly because they love you and they love Rosa here. They did not owe you anything but they have mopped you up, bailed you out, paid your fines and nursed you whenever the occasion has arisen. And how do you repay them? By disturbing their rest, vomiting all over their home, throwing tantrums and refusing to clear up your messes after you. But not this time, my girl, not this time. This time you are going to do the decent thing. You are going to clear this lot up, make yourself presentable and be here, sober and in full command of what passes for your wits when that repulsive little man Clunt shows up tomorrow afternoon. Do you understand me?’

  My mum opened her mouth to protest.

  Great-aunt Dodie tightened her grip and gave her a little shake. ‘Don’t argue. Not if you know what is good for you. Just allow me to tell you what will happen if you continue with this nonsense.’ She let go of my mum’s arm, picked up the gin and walked to the bathroom with it. My mum trailed after her, her eyes fixed greedily on the bottle.

  Slowly, very slowly, Great-aunt Dodie unscrewed the cap and began tipping the contents down the toilet, talking as she did so. ‘I shall keep pouring until I see you making vigorous efforts to clear up that room, then I shall stop. You may have another drink when your work is finished. Now what is it to be? Speak up, girl. Your supplies are getting more limited by the second.’

  She tipped the bottle a little further and the clear, evil-smelling liquid glugged steadily panwards. My mum let out a defeated whimper and began to climb into her clothes, never taking her eyes off the gin bottle. The glugging stopped but Great-aunt Dodie didn’t move away from the toilet until my mum was on her hands and knees with the floorcloth. I jumped slightly when Great-aunt Dodie spoke again.

  ‘Rosa, would you get me a chair, dear, so I may sit as I supervise? I think you had better join the others downstairs when you have done that; Cassandra and I have some things to discuss. Could you ask your aunt or uncle to join us, please?’

  I did not hang about. Auntie Maggie
and Uncle Bert opted to be in on the discussions, and Paulette, Madame Zelda, Luigi, Mr Herbert and I traipsed next door to Paulette and Madame Zelda’s place to play cards while we waited. I was disappointed to be missing the scene upstairs but, to tell you the truth, I was feeling a bit shaky. I had always found it rather frightening when my mum was drunk, but Great-aunt Dodie, when she was angry, was plain terrifying.

  30

  Staying with Paulette and Madame Zelda was quite a relief. The card games were fun, and they gave me my tea and settled me down for the night. Everyone thought it was best if I didn’t go home, especially me. I had seen the Perfumed Lady drunk before, but this time it was different somehow. In the past, she’d always seemed to be having a good time for most of it and things turned a bit sour just at the end. You know, as if she’d been to a really, really good party and it was only the aftermath of cleaning up the glasses and the brimming ashtrays that took the edge off it. Her drinking had always seemed to be like that, a lot of razzle and a bit of tidying up at the end.

  But not this time. This time there was screaming, crying, puking and bugs and snakes that weren’t really there. Even Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert seemed helpless in the face of it. I kept getting flashes of her naked and huddled. She had often seemed helpless but this time she had seemed hopeless too. And her arms – I kept seeing her arms. They were so thin, like sticks they were, and they reminded me of the pictures I had seen of the people Hitler had kept in those terrible camps that nobody thought I ought to know about. Her arms were almost as thin as theirs but nobody had starved her; she must have starved herself. So I was glad I didn’t have to go home that night. I wanted to be with people who didn’t see snakes and bugs coming out of the walls and who laughed when they played cards.

  I don’t know when Luigi and Mr Herbert left because I was tucked up in the spare bed by then. Paulette had nipped home for my pyjamas, toothbrush, clean drawers for the morning and my teddy. I know that they stayed for a while after I’d settled down because I heard their laughter coming from the living room. I also heard Sharky join the party. He must have come back to his office rather than go home to wherever it was he lived. I heard Madame Zelda tell him it was a good thing he was around, and that the Perfumed Lady had turned up. She reminded him that Charlie Fluck was expected tomorrow around teatime and suggested that it might be an idea if he made himself available for that particular meeting.