Sid smiled. ‘I heard. A grandchild is a great peacemaker, you know.’
Ellie smiled back. Mr Varney was such a kind man and he wasn’t like the other grown-ups. He talked to her like she was an adult too. Maybe he would explain something that had been puzzling her.
‘I will be working for Mr Green,’ she confessed. ‘But he’s opening a new place – very posh – up West. He wants me to be his receptionist.’
‘You sure that’s all it is?’
‘Well, Mum seems to believe it. Everyone says Mr Green wants to go straight.’
Sid gave a snort of disbelief, then sighed. ‘Could be true. Perhaps that’s why he wants you – educated, nicely spoken. What could look more legit than having a girl like you as receptionist?’
Ellie felt herself blushing. ‘I don’t really want to but Dad says I must.’ She finished her lemonade and turned to Sid. ‘Why is he so keen to keep in with Mr Green? They fell out when there was all that trouble over Sheila. Now they seem to be mates again.’
‘Well, I did hear that Tommy ’ad some sort of hold over your dad. I ’eard that Bert ’ad done something a bit silly and Tommy got to hear of it. He needed a man for a dodgy caper and roped Bert in – in exchange for keeping shtum about the other job.’
Ellie nodded slowly. She was sure now that the ‘dodgy caper’ Sid referred to had something to do with those boxes she’d seen stacked in Solly’s yard. It still didn’t explain Tommy offering her a job though.
‘You know your dad,’ Sid said with a laugh. ‘’E likes to think he’s well in with the big boys. ’E probably asked Tommy to take you on and now that they’re mates again he was glad to oblige.’
Ellie was anxious to change the subject. ‘Did you know Harry was staying on in the army?’ she asked.
‘It’s a good career. I’d like him to work for me but don’t think I could pay him enough to support a wife and child.’ Sid didn’t seem to notice the shadow that passed over Ellie’s face and went on, ‘Your Harry’s ambitious. He wrote me that he’s training to be a vehicle mechanic. If he’s still set on it when he gets home, I might be able to get him a job with an old mate of mine out Essex way.’ Sid threw the dregs of his tea on the ground and stood up. ‘Can’t sit around nattering – gonna get busy again in a minute.’
Ellie took his mug and the bottle. ‘I’ll take these back to Bob’s, then I’ve got to go down the shops for Mum.’
‘You run along, gal. Don’t want you getting into trouble with Mum – or Dad,’ Sid told her. He slipped a few coins into her hand. ‘Thanks a lot – you’ve been a big help.’
‘I’ll try and come again – if I have time. Don’t know what hours I’ll be working yet,’ Ellie said.
As she left the noise of the market behind, she felt a lot happier. Her talk with Mr Varney had cleared her mind. He hadn’t seemed too worried when she told him about the club. Like Mum, he seemed to think the new Paradise Club would be more respectable than the Riverside. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. She wasn’t quite so happy about the other thing Sid had told her. She’d always pictured Harry coming back to Bethnal Green when he left the army. She didn’t like the idea of him going to work in Essex. But perhaps it was just as well, she thought. She wouldn’t have to face seeing him – and his wife – every day.
Sid watched her go, smiling. Not for the first time he thought that if things had been different he could have had a daughter like Ellie. But he’d never married. Despite his big laugh, the cheery backchat, Sid was a shy man, hiding his real feelings behind his seemingly extrovert manner.
He’d only ever cared for one woman. But his lack of confidence had held him back and he’d let her slip through his fingers – not once, but twice. Mary Bowman, as he still thought of her, had been one of the most popular girls in their little gang – vivacious, sparkling, small and quick with laughing brown eyes. He’d understood when she’d fallen for Jim Scott – all the girls were after him or his twin brother Frank. Why would she look at him, fat, balding even in his early twenties and with no prospects beyond taking over the stall from his father?
When she got married he’d been pleased for her – and his mate. Jim was a good sort and Sid knew he’d make Mary happy. Once he’d become resigned to the fact that she’d never look on him as anything more than a friend, he just got on with his life. But he still lived for the sight of her, the warmth of her smile when she and her friend Anne shopped in the market – which they did nearly every day.
The pain faded after a while and he was able to take pleasure in seeing her happiness when Sheila was born and in being an unofficial uncle to the little girl and her cousin Harry. Despite everything, those years before the war had been good years.
As Sid watched Ellie threading her way between the market stalls, stopping to wave or call out a greeting, he thought how like her mother she was – bright, ambitious, full of life. His smile faded as he pictured Mary now – thin and careworn. And he could see Ellie ending up the same way. It worried him when he saw the purple shadows under her eyes, the droop of her shoulders. But, like her mother, she could always manage a smile for him.
Sid snapped out of his reverie as a sharp voice said, ‘Well, are you gonna serve me or not, Sid Varney? I ain’t got all day you know.’ It was Vi Thomas, Ellie’s great-aunt.
‘Sorry, Vi – got a lot on me mind,’ he said, weighing out carrots and picking an especially hearty cauliflower for her to make up for his lack of attention.
She handed over the money, tightening her lips as he passed her the change. ‘Mooning over some woman I expect,’ she said. ‘Time you got married, Sid Varney – if you can find anyone who’ll ’ave yer.’ She gave her cackling laugh.
Sid replied with a weak smile, his usual repartee deserting him for the moment.
It had started to rain and the market was almost deserted. He might as well pack up and go home. But the thought of the dismal two rooms above the newsagent’s where he lived alone had no attraction for him.
His thoughts turned to Mary again. He was sure she had no idea how he felt about her. In a way he hoped she never would. After all, she was a married woman and there was nothing he could do about it. And if Bert ever got so much as an inkling there’d be hell to pay.
Not that Sid was frightened of that weedy little toerag. But Bert had a powerful friend in Tommy Green. He wasn’t afraid for himself, though he’d heard tales of beatings down dark alleys when someone had upset Tommy or any of his mates. Sid’s concern was for Mary and Ellie. And now, with young Harry gone, they were even more vulnerable.
Not for the first time Sid wondered why on earth Mary had married Bert Tyler. After all, Jim had only been dead a few months when she took up with him. But she’d been struggling to bring up two children, having taken on responsibility for Harry when Anne was killed. And Bert could be charming when he put himself out – until he got what he wanted, that was. He’d always been jealous of the Scott brothers’ popularity and Sid suspected he’d seen a way of getting back at them.
And Mary, soft-hearted as ever, had admitted to Sid that she felt sorry for Bert, wounded at Dunkirk and knowing he would walk with a limp for the rest of his life. What Sid had never told her was that Bert’s wound was not the result of enemy action. His leg had been crushed between boat and breakwater as he’d fought for a place on one of the little ships. Sid, supporting the wounded Frank Scott, had been pushed aside as Bert forced his way to the front of the queue.
He sighed, knowing he would never tell her the whole story now. Let her carry on thinking Bert was a wounded hero if it helped her to put up with him.
‘Cheer up, Sid. It might never ’appen,’ Maisie Jones shouted across from her second-hand clothes stall.
‘It already has,’ he said, pointing upwards. The rain had increased to a downpour and the awning was sagging under the weight of water.
‘Yeah. Wouldn’t send a dog out on a day like this. I’m packing up – won’t do no more trade today.’ Maisie starte
d folding her goods and packing them into boxes.
‘I’ve had enough as well,’ Sid said.
‘What say we go for a cuppa and a bite to eat at Bob’s Café,’ Maisie said, ‘then you can tell me all your troubles.’
‘I might do that.’ Sid laughed. But he’d never tell her what was on his mind. Maisie was a good sort, but she did love a gossip. Sid’s unrequited love would be all round the market by next morning.
Ellie would have lingered over the shopping but her father had insisted she should go to see Mr Green about the receptionist’s job. Her feet started to drag as she neared Kendall Street and she felt that familiar churning in her stomach as she mounted the stairs.
Although Bert had more or less left her alone since that terrible night, she was still wary of him. He’d never referred to it directly but on several occasions when he’d been drinking he had made a grab for her, gripping her shoulders or running his hands up and down her body. All the while, he would mutter under his breath – comments on her growing up to be a lovely young woman, phrases such as ‘what do you expect, I’m only human after all?’ Worst of all, he would tell her over and over that she was still his little angel and he couldn’t help loving her.
With her mother near by, or if she was round at Gran’s, she could tell herself that she wasn’t to blame – and she almost believed it. But when her father talked like that and especially when he made insinuations about her feelings for Harry, she would begin to doubt herself.
Upstairs, she would look in the mirror, hunching her shoulders to flatten her bosom, pulling her skirt down over her knees and scraping her hair back from her face. As her reflection looked back at her, she would flush with shame and throw herself on the bed to let the tears come.
She was crying for the child she had been and the loss of that uncomplicated love she’d felt for the boy who had been her ‘big brother’. But she was crying for the future as well as the past. She could never let Harry know that the love she’d always felt for him had changed into a completely different emotion.
No, he deserved someone better, a respectable girl. Not someone like her – the sort of girl who could tempt even her own father to such unspeakable acts.
Locked in her misery, she forgot the way Bert had treated Sheila, not to mention the times as a very small child when she’d heard the sound of blows and his snarling voice demanding his rights, followed later by her mother’s stifled sobs.
In the depths of her hurt and shame she managed to rationalize Bert’s behaviour. Sheila, as her mother had so often said, was no better than she should be, she’d been ‘asking for it’. And as for her mother’s sufferings, Ellie unconsciously mimicked Auntie Vi’s opinion: ‘she knew what he was like. She should never have married him.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ellie gazed around her, awestruck at the size of the wood-panelled room with its rich blue carpet, soft and thick underfoot, the desk of polished walnut behind which Tommy Green sat. In one corner was a small bar with soft lights glinting off the bottles ranged on the shelves behind.
Her father caught her eye and, with a satisfied grin, leaned back in the deep leather chair, puffing contentedly on the cigar that Mr Green had offered him.
‘Well, Ellen – or can I call you Ellie, seeing as you’re gonna be my sister-in-law before too long?’ Mr Green said, his eyes almost disappearing in the flesh of his perspiring face as he smiled at her.
Ellie nodded, wondering what her sister saw in him – apart from his wealth, of course.
‘I think you’re just the sort of girl I need as a receptionist.’ He leaned forward. ‘What do you say – would you like to work here?’
Ellie glanced at her father but he was gazing up at the wreaths of blue smoke drifting in the air, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Emboldened by his apparent lack of interest in the conversation she tried to protest.
‘But, Mr Green….’
‘Call me Tommy, please.’
She couldn’t, she just couldn’t. ‘Mr Green, I don’t think I’m the type of person you’re looking for, really I don’t.’
The big man’s eyes narrowed. ‘And why’s that then?’
‘Well, working in a club – I’m not like Sheila, you see.’
To her surprise he burst out laughing. ‘I should say you’re not. But that’s why I want yer. This new place I’m openin’ is nothin’ like the Riverside. It’s gonna be real posh, up West. I want someone who looks the part, someone who talks nice, not too plummy but proper English – like you do.’
‘But what would I have to do?’ Ellie still wasn’t convinced.
‘I told yer – call me Tommy.’ He waved his cigar. ‘It’s simple – just answer the phone, take bookings for tables. Be there ter greet the guests.’
‘Is that all?’ Ellie smiled. He hadn’t said anything about having to ‘be nice’ to the guests. Her relief was short-lived.
‘’Course, you’d have to look right – dress up a bit, get yer’air done, make-up an’ all. Gotta impress the punters. But don’t worry – we’ll get yer rigged out before yer start.’
‘Mum doesn’t like me wearing make-up,’ she said tentatively.
Bert spoke up. ‘I’ll speak to yer mother.’
Tommy nodded. ‘She must realize yer growin’ up now – into a very attractive young lady if I might say so.’
Ellie squirmed as he went on, ‘I know you’re only sixteen but, with the right clothes, you’ll pass for eighteen.’ He paused, then continued, ‘Oh, I don’t mean I want yer all dolled up like a tart. I want a bit of class – you’ll fit in a treat.’ He smiled again and wagged his finger at her. ‘Who knows, if yer play yer cards right, yer could end up married ter some posh geezer with loadsa dough – maybe even a title.’
Bert nodded. ‘That’s what I’ve bin tellin’ her. It’s waste a time all this talk of paintin’ and drawin’. With her looks and brains, she’s got it made already.’
Tommy stared hard at Bert and gave a short laugh. ‘Don’t know where she gets it from – must be ’er mother.’
A flicker of anger crossed Bert’s face, quickly followed by a forced laugh. ‘Well, you know my Mary,’ he said, leaning forward to grind the cigar out in the crystal ashtray.
‘Well, that’s all settled then. The decorators and fitters ’ave nearly finished and we’re just waitin’ on the delivery of the furniture. We should be ready by the twentieth – that’s a Saturday night – for the grand opening. Better come along early afternoon and I can go through things with yer.’
He stood up and handed an envelope to Bert. ‘I think you’ll find there’s enough there to cover getting her all rigged out – and a bit over fer your expenses.’
Bert put the envelope inside his jacket. ‘Come on then. We’ve taken up enough of Tommy’s time,’ he said.
On the bus back to Kendall Street, Bert was in an expansive mood but Ellie hardly said a word. If only Mum had stuck up for her just this once. But Mary, once she’d been assured that there wouldn’t be any ‘funny business’, had seemed to accept the situation. Until Bert took the envelope out of his pocket and she saw how much money there was.
‘What’s that for?’ she asked, her lips coming together in that familiar thin line.
‘Clothes and things for our Ellie. Tommy wants her to look good when she starts work.’
‘We don’t need his money,’ Mary said. ‘Does he think we can’t take care of our own? I’ve got money put by.’
Bert laughed. ‘You’re too proud, you are. We’re doin’ him a favour, letting our Ellie work fer him. There’s not many girls round ’ere with her education who look the part. Tommy’s goin’ upmarket. He wants to be respected, not just an ex-boxer who’s made a bit of money wheeling and dealing.’
Mary didn’t reply. She picked up the bundle of notes and reached for her handbag. When Bert held out his hand, she peeled a few notes off and gave them to him. He gave her a hard look but she ignored him and calmly tucked the rest of the money int
o her purse.
‘We’ll need to go up West for her clothes if Tommy wants her to “look the part”. Can’t have our girl letting the side down can we?’ Her voice had a sarcastic edge, but as she turned to Ellie, she smiled. ‘Looks like you and me are going on a shopping spree, love.’ But Ellie detected a false note behind the gay tone.
Her own feelings were much the same. She should have been excited at the thought of choosing new clothes in the posh West End shops. Judith would have been green with envy but fashion and make-up had never really interested Ellie – only from the point of view of design. She’d often sketched out ideas for dresses and had even briefly considered going into the fashion business – after college of course. But her real interest was in textiles and soft furnishings.
She sighed. No good thinking about that. She smiled at her mother and, like her, pretended enthusiasm for the proposed shopping trip.
Bert gave a self-satisfied grin and put his arm round her. ‘I’m proud of yer, Angel. I told yer everything would work out all right if yer listened to yer dad. Tommy’ll see yer right, you’ll see.’ He kissed her cheek and gave her a squeeze, his hand brushing lightly against her breast. She tried not to flinch and instead stared hard at him, wishing she had the nerve to speak up and tell him that she’d do what he wanted if he agreed to leave her alone.
But he seemed to get the message and he averted his eyes. ‘I’m off,’ he said to Mary. ‘Don’t bother saving my dinner. I’ll eat out.’
When they’d finished their sausages and mash and washed the dishes afterwards, Ellie and her mother sat down on opposite sides of the range, enjoying the unaccustomed interlude of peace and quiet.
‘You’re a bit quiet, love,’ Mary said, as the sound of coals settling in the grate disturbed the silence. She had taken out her knitting, but the needles stilled and she leaned towards Ellie. ‘I know you’re disappointed – but you never really thought he’d let you go to college, did you?’
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