by Annie Groves
Kathleen nodded and bashfully clasped her mother’s legs.
Matilda ruffled the little girl’s dark locks. ‘Make sure to be back in good time for the kids’ feed-up this afternoon,’ she reminded Noreen. ‘I’m expecting to see Rosie and Kathleen tucking in.’ She gave Kieran a wink. ‘Then later on the adults will have a bit of a knees-up.’
‘Is Christopher here somewhere?’ Kieran asked Matilda, glancing about. He owed his thanks to Chris for having put him forward for the job at the haulage company. Vince’s father was due to retire and Chris had made it his business to tell Kieran about the vacancy coming up. Kieran had been able to get an interview date arranged before the job was advertised.
‘Ain’t seen Chris for a few days,’ Matilda said. ‘S’pect him ’n’ Grace are busy arranging stuff now they’re gonna set a date fer the wedding in September.’
‘Better get a move on,’ Bethany warned her mother and sister, checking her watch. ‘Sophy and Danny will be arriving soon and I haven’t yet told George what time to meet them when they get off the train.’ Beth knew her eldest sister would be disappointed if nobody turned up to give them a lift from the station when they arrived from Essex. Her husband George usually did the honours as they still lived locally.
‘We’ll see you lot back at home a bit later.’ Matilda and her daughters headed off in the direction of the bus stop.
‘He doesn’t look too steady up there. Go and give him a hand, Josh?’ Alice asked her husband. She’d been watching her brother-in-law, Danny, up a ladder, tying a banner made from an old sheet to a lamppost. Painted in bold black letters along its length was GOD SAVE THE QUEEN. Sophy’s husband was stretching to tighten the cord and wobbling precariously while shouting instructions at a fellow on the opposite pavement who had hold of the other end of the string.
Josh put down the trestle table he’d been erecting and hurried over to give Danny some assistance while Alice continued setting out chairs.
‘They look good enough to eat, Stevie.’ Lucy had appeared with an armful of paper tablecloths just as Stephen emerged from Matilda’s house carrying a huge platter brimming with sausage rolls. He’d made them earlier at the café and had been keeping them warm on Matilda’s little stove.
The savoury aroma wafted temptingly around and the chef had to playfully smack away several hands that snaked out before he could land the plate on the table. ‘Kids first, you greedy lot,’ Stephen amiably told the adults who’d tried to snaffle a pastry in between positioning chairs for the children’s tea party.
Once the tables were covered in their colourful cloths, paper hats and streamers were scattered along their centres. Union Jacks were already anchored in several sash windows on either side of the road and chains of flags crisscrossed high above their heads, fluttering in the light breeze.
‘Where’s Chris?’ Rob had come up behind his brother and wolfed down a cheese straw with much smacking of his lips. ‘Not bad,’ he said, in praise of Stephen’s culinary skills. ‘I thought Chris was in charge of making the bonfire.’
Stephen glanced over to where Vince, Billy and Ted, with much larking about, were stacking up a pile of old timbers. The wood had been collected over the previous weeks from the demolished houses at the other end of the street. Close by, and gently rocking a pram in which slept a baby girl, was Deirdre, keeping a beady eye on her husband.
‘Not seen Chris since yesterday,’ Stephen said. ‘He didn’t come home last night … the dirty dog …’
‘Stayed with Grace, d’you reckon?’ Rob grinned at Stephen.
‘Wouldn’t be at all surprised,’ Stephen answered. ‘Like a couple of turtle doves, they are; and now they’re talking about a date in September …’ He gave his brother a wink before adding, more seriously, ‘Think that business with O’Connor setting light to the houses shook him up. He’s been acting a bit different. I was the same after I had me own accident,’ he mocked himself. ‘Makes you start to think … life’s too short to hang about waiting and hoping; just get on and do it’s my motto. That’s why I jumped in with both feet on the caff. Turned out the best thing me ’n’ Pearl ever did.’
‘Yeah …’ It was the sum of Rob’s agreement to his brother’s theory. ‘Chris’ll be coming along tonight, though?’
‘He’d better!’ Stephen laughed. ‘Or I reckon Matilda’ll have his guts fer garters.’
‘What about Pam?’ Rob asked, plunging his hands in his pockets while waiting for his brother’s response.
‘She got invited; up to her if she turns up. Can’t do no more’n ask.’
It had been a blunt statement, as though Stephen didn’t care either way. In fact he knew he’d appreciate it if his ex-wife put in an appearance; that way Christopher would know he meant it when he said there was no lingering animosity there on his part. He’d make sure he and Pearl made Pamela feel welcome if she came along. But he had a feeling it would be some time yet before his ex-wife’s wounds were healed by the strengthening connection to her son. Stephen knew that it wasn’t just duty, or a sense of something lacking in his life that took Chris regularly to Bexleyheath. His son was growing to love the mother he’d never known and, oddly, Stephen felt a quiet contentment because of it.
Briskly Stephen stepped back from the table he’d been piling with food and, before his brother could pursue the subject of his ex-wife, he turned on the spot to watch industrious people intent on making this last Bunk party the best ever. ‘We’ve had some shindigs here, ain’t we?’ he said. ‘I can remember as a kid marching up and down at the end of the Great War, banging a spoon on a pot on Armistice Day. Must’ve been at least a hundred kids in that procession. We all ended up jigging about round the barrel organ … went on for a few days, as I recall.’
‘Then we had a right good celebration in 1935 for King George’s Silver Jubilee and another on VE Day.’ Rob voiced his own reminiscences, his eyes distant.
‘Stop slacking there, Stevie, and bring out the fairy cakes.’ Matilda had come up behind her nephews. ‘And where’s Pearl with the jellies?’
‘She’s on her way. She was waiting for ’em to set properly. She didn’t get back from Trafalgar Square till late. Don’t worry, I’ve torn a strip off her,’ he joked. ‘Warned the silly cow she’d get caught in the crush and it’d make her late getting back here.’
‘Can’t blame her for hanging about in town. Once in a lifetime opportunity to see the queen on the way to get crowned,’ Matilda said. ‘Ooh, Elizabeth did look lovely …’
‘Oi, Tilly!’
Matilda twisted about at that familiar, raucous voice and immediately her wrinkled face lifted in a delighted grin.
‘Would’ve recognised you anywhere. Ain’t changed a bit, have yer?’ Matilda boomed out, hugging her grey-haired old friend.
Jeannie Robertson gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Yeah … you ’n’ all,’ she answered dryly. They both laughed. They were very different people now to those youthful, feisty women who once had fought – against and with – one another while scraping by, living as neighbours in The Bunk’s heyday.
‘Johnny with you?’ Matilda asked while glancing about for Jeannie’s fellow. She put down on the table the bottles of pop she’d been nursing while talking to her nephews.
Jeannie pointed to a tall, balding man standing with a group of people. Jeannie and Johnnie Blake had been together, on and off, since childhood, despite Jeannie having married someone else and had children with him.
‘And how’s your Peter doing?’ Matilda went on. Jeannie’s adult son still lived at home with his mother having suffered terribly, and never fully recovered, from shellshock in the Great War.
‘Yeah, he’s alright. Got himself a lady friend,’ Jeannie said proudly. ‘She’s a nice woman. Lost her husband in 1944 so she’s quite a bit younger …’ She broke off to exclaim, ‘Bleedin’ hell! That’s Connie Whitton over there, ain’t it?’ Jeannie was gazing at a buxom middle-aged bottle blonde who was sauntering along arm-in-arm
with a stooped, shrunken-looking fellow. Connie had been a notorious prostitute in her time, when living in The Bunk, although she’d always been quite popular with her neighbours – women as well as men.
‘Reckon it is Connie,’ Matilda said. ‘And that must be Ralph Franks with her; now I wouldn’t have recognised him. He ain’t aged at all well – not like us …’ She chuckled as Jeannie swung an astonished glance at her.
‘Ralph Franks? Not the rozzer who used to do the beat about The Bunk with old Twitch?’ Twitch had been the nickname for Sidney Bickerstaff who had been well-respected by the Bunk community, considering policemen had been universally disliked and distrusted.
‘That’s Ralph alright,’ Matilda confirmed. ‘I heard Connie got back with him. Don’t think they’ve ever made it official, though.’ Matilda pointed to where her daughter Alice was standing talking to a couple of women. ‘And over there’s my Alice – good-looking one with dark hair – and I reckon that’s Connie’s sisters standing with her, Sarah and Louisa. Ain’t seen either of them in …’ Matilda gave up trying to calculate the years. ‘Bleedin’ hell, too long to remember when I last saw ’em. Before the last war, I know that.’ She paused for breath. ‘And Sarah’s still knocking about with her childhood sweetheart. Not that Herbert Banks is any more use now than he was as a kid. Sarah still ain’t married him, and I reckon that’s wise … but shame she ain’t got any children.’
‘We had some times, didn’t we, Til?’ Jeannie sighed out.
Matilda nodded and for a moment their eyes closed as they remembered the worst of it. Then wry smiles appeared simultaneously to tug at their lips.
‘Lot o’ water under the bridge and mighty glad to see most of it flow on by,’ Matilda said gruffly. ‘But good times ’n’ all. Specially when my Jack were alive, God rest him.’ She sniffed and chuckled to cheer herself up. ‘Anyhow, today we remember all them good times and ferget about the bad. And after the kids are stuffed fit ter burst, I’m gonna get the tables pushed back and remind you all how we used to do a shindig in The Bunk.’
‘And I’m ready fer it, don’t you worry about that,’ Jeannie said with an emphatic little jig on the spot. ‘But fer now I’m gonna mosey over and say hello to Connie … Oh, look who’s here! There’s old Beattie, talking to Lou Perkins, ’less me sight’s gone along with the rest o’ me.’ She exaggeratedly patted into style her salt-and-pepper-coloured hair that once had been a rich chestnut brown.
‘You’re not so bad fer yer age,’ Tilly ribbed her. ‘’Course you’re a bit older’n me, so naturally I look better.’
‘Bleedin’ cheek! I know you’re seventy if you’re a day and I ain’t yet turned sixty-five.’
‘Must’ve had your Peter when you was still at school then.’ Matilda roared with laughter before clasping Jeannie to her bosom.
‘Right … need any help with anything before I disappear?’ Jeannie nodded her head at the tables being piled up with platefuls of tasty food.
‘Nah, you go off and have a natter. Got me daughters and grandkids giving a hand with all the preparations.’
‘Fetch us some more serviettes will you, Sophy, when you get a minute?’
Sophy nodded at Alice and dived into a cardboard box to pull out some napkins printed with colourful Union Jacks. She started distributing them along the table by each plate. ‘Kids are getting hungry.’ Sophy pointed to a party of children, dressed in their Sunday best, hovering by the table, their eyes wide as they assessed the wonderful spread being laid out.
‘Time to get them seated,’ Bethany declared and started walking up and down the table pulling out chairs for excited youngsters.
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Adam! You managed to get time off and come to our party!’ Faye plonked down the basin of jelly she’d been ladling out to the kids, and rushed towards her son to greet him with a fierce hug. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. Is Geraldine with you?’ She was always happy to see her son’s fiancée.
‘She’s gone to central London with some friends to see the coronation parade. But she’s hoping to come along later.’
‘Daisy will be thrilled to see you.’ Faye waved at her daughter, drawing her attention and, with a delighted grin, the young woman sped over to them. A dapper youth began trailing uncertainly in Daisy’s wake.
Daisy launched herself at her brother with such energy she almost knocked him off his feet. ‘Chris’ll be glad you made it.’ Daisy knew her brother and her cousin got on like a house on fire.
‘Where is Chris by the way?’ Daisy took a squint about. ‘And Grace, too. I’ve not seen either of them yet.’ A moment later she’d remembered her hovering boyfriend and urged him forward to introduce him to Adam.
‘This is Richard. I’ve told him all about you, and how brave you were in the war.’ She gave her brother a prideful beam.
Adam politely shook the nervous young man’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Richard … she exaggerates,’ he added modestly, patting the boy on the shoulder.
‘I saw Shirley Coleman turn up a little while ago. I’ll go and have a word with her and see if she knows where Grace and Chris have got to.’ Faye glanced away from her children with a frown. Her nephew’s absence was starting to niggle at her. ‘I expect something’s held them up, that’s all it is.’
Faye left her son and daughter chatting and went off to speak to Grace’s mother. She knew Chris wouldn’t intentionally miss this party. He and Grace had been talking about the preparations, along with everybody else, for months past. Grace had written invitations to many ex-Bunk residents for Matilda, and had been involved in planning today’s celebration. At the beginning of the week the young couple had been to the wholesaler’s to fetch back in the van the boxes of souvenir paper plates, tablecloths and serviettes.
‘Have you seen my Grace?’ On noticing Faye approaching, Shirley had immediately fired that at her, then glanced around, her lips pursed. ‘I can’t believe she’d not let me know she was stopping out last night.’
‘Didn’t come home then?’ Faye gave a little grimace.
‘I only came along to this party to give Grace a piece of my mind for worrying me so. I thought I might find her and Chris already here. But I’ve just had a word with Matilda and she’s not seen either of them for days. Didn’t say too much ’cos it looks like everybody’s having a good time and I didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere.’ Shirley again swept the company with a searching gaze.
‘Grace didn’t give you a clue where she was off to?’
‘She had the day off work yesterday to do wedding things with Chris; that’s what she told me they were up to. Dolled up to the nines, she was. I’m just hoping she didn’t get too carried away with wedding things with Chris, if you get my drift.’ Shirley’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not going to be best pleased if any trouble comes out of this in nine months’ time, and I’ll make no bones about telling his father so when I clap eyes on him.’
‘They’re setting the big day for some time in September,so not too far off, is it,’ Faye quickly soothed Shirley.
‘Grace was engaged before, you know, and the rotter did the dirty on her. As far as I’m concerned, till a girl’s got a wedding ring on her finger, anything can happen.’
‘Chris idolises Grace,’ Faye quickly reassured her. She could tell Shirley was becomingly increasingly agitated by the thought of an unplanned pregnancy arising from the couple’s unexplained absence. ‘They’ll be along soon, I’m sure of it. Now come and meet some people; most of Matilda’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren are here. They’re a lovely bunch …’
Shirley allowed herself to be lead away, grumbling.
‘Now who wants more jelly?’ Pearl held up the glass bowl. A few hands went up but most of the children were too full to indulge in more. After Pearl had doled out seconds to those who wanted it, Stevie relieved her of the remainder.
‘I don’t mind a bit of jelly when I’m hungry.’ He immediately dug a spoon into it.
Pe
arl gave him a fond smile. ‘You’ve worked hard, so I’ll let you get away with that one.’ She glanced at the table; the children were slowly drifting away now they had eaten their fills. ‘Get the empties cleared away, shall we, then we can put out some fresh sandwiches and sausage rolls for the adults to dive into.’ She leaned forward to whisper, ‘Have you hidden the cake?’
Stephen nodded. Just that afternoon he’d iced a large sponge in the shape and colours of the Union Jack. He chuckled. ‘I’ve made a gold crown for Tilly to wear ’n’ all when we come to cut it. She can do the honours as she’s our Queen of The Bunk.’
Pearl guffawed. ‘She’ll like that, Stevie.’
‘Let’s make a bit of dancing space, shall we?’
Alice and Sophy had started to move back chairs to clear some room in the centre of the street.
Suddenly they stopped and stared as a van pulled up and Rob and Josh tumbled out to open the back doors. Alice burst out laughing. ‘I wondered where Josh had got to!’ She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I told him we could do with a bit of music but I didn’t dream he’d bring the piano from home.’ She weaved through the throng towards him. ‘You gone nuts, Josh Chaplin?’ She was shaking her head in amazement as he and Rob lifted the piano onto the pavement. ‘I was only expecting the Italian fellow to turn up and do a turn on his barrel organ.’
‘You can’t do the conga properly without someone bashing it out on the piano, Al,’ Josh soothed her in his gentle way. ‘Anyhow, you know you like a good singsong, with me tinkling the ivories. And George has fetched over his banjo, so we’re all set for a night of it.’
As the light faded, and the bonfire shed a warm glow on the street scene, Alice wandered away into the shadows. Planting her hands on her hips she sighed, realising she felt pleasantly exhausted. She’d moments ago danced the hokey cokey with Sarah Whitton, the pair of them singing their lungs out, and laughing hard enough to make their jaws and ribs ache. Now Alice hoped to find a chair to relax on, and take a breather; but sleepy-headed kids occupied every one.