The Lodger

by Mary Jane Staples

  ‘Was he in a cap and raincoat?’

  ‘A cap, yes. I’m not sure about a raincoat. There had been some rain during the day, but it was a mild night and dry. Still, I think he had some kind of coat on. I turned into King and Queen Street, and thought for a few moments that he’d continued on. Then I knew he was still behind me, still about twenty yards away. I walked as fast as I could, I was worrying by then, of course, thinking he might be the man you’re after. I dug out my doorkey while I was still walking, and I was ready to scream the place down if I didn’t get my door open in time. I managed to open it very quickly. I glanced. He was closer, much closer. I threw myself indoors and shut the door fast.’

  ‘I’m appalled,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘But aren’t you pleased I acted so quickly?’

  ‘I could say a few things to you, Mrs Carter.’

  ‘Pardon?’ said Emma.

  ‘Out by yourself at that time of night, d’you think that was sensible?’

  ‘I wasn’t by myself until I got off the tram at Browning Street, I was among the public. Stop scowling at me.’

  Nicholas muttered. Emma remained calm.

  ‘Mrs Carter, when you took your last look and found he was much closer, didn’t you see him clearly?’

  ‘He just seemed like a dark, moving shadow, muffled up. Heavens, I didn’t stand and stare, sergeant, I took only a lightning glance before throwing myself indoors. I’m not a six-foot Billingsgate porter, you know.’

  ‘No, you’re a vulnerable woman,’ said Nicholas, stern-faced and reproving. ‘Don’t come home again in the dark, not when you’re by yourself, and not until we’ve caught this man.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Emma, ‘that sounds like an order.’

  ‘Officially, it’s necessary advice. From a personal point of view, yes, it is an order. Damn it, woman – ’

  ‘Pardon?’ said Emma again.

  ‘Sorry. That was out of order. But don’t you realize the risks of being out so late? You’re probably a marked woman now.’

  ‘But the man might be completely innocent, he really might have been on his way to his own home. I admit I felt I should tell you – ’

  ‘I’m much obliged,’ said Nicholas, ‘but I’d have thought a woman of your intelligence would have arranged for your friend to have gone with you and seen you home. I’d also have thought you’d have reported the incident before today.’

  ‘Heavens,’ said Emma, ‘I’m doing my very best to help you with your enquiries, and here you are bullying me.’

  ‘Stop playing games,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Well, really. Sergeant Chamberlain, you’re ruining my Sunday.’

  ‘Mrs Carter, you’re ruining my peace of mind. Just make sure that if you do go out at night, you have your friend with you.’

  Emma made a little face. That was the trouble with white lies, they rebounded.

  ‘I’m used to being independent,’ she said.

  ‘Look,’ said Nicholas, ‘most women are basically nice. A number of men are basically unpleasant. But there are the better kind. Having one as an escort doesn’t mean you lose your independence, it means you’re not putting yourself at the mercy of the unpleasant. The unpleasant in this case is a maniac. I’m sure your friend would be only too pleased to keep you safe. Under the circumstances, you’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?’

  ‘Oh, my word,’ said Emma, a little taken aback, ‘you are bullying me. It’s the policeman coming out in you.’

  ‘Was this man on the tram with you? Did he follow you off it?’

  ‘I really don’t know. I mean, if anyone did, I wasn’t aware of it.’

  ‘You said you saw two or three couples about. Did you notice any solitary person?’

  ‘No, I can’t honestly say I did.’

  ‘Well, we’ll trace the tram, and the conductor, and talk to him.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ said Emma. ‘Is my ordeal over now? I suppose it’s your duty to be stern and hectoring, and I shan’t harbour any hard feelings. Will you stay and have some tea?’

  ‘That’s kind of you,’ said Nicholas, ‘but it’s a working day for me. I’ve got to get back to the Yard, I’m reexamining all reports from the uniformed branch and the CID in the hope of alighting on something I’ve missed or someone else has missed.’

  ‘I see,’ said Emma.

  ‘I’ll call again in a few days.’

  ‘Will you? Why?’

  Nicholas knew why, even if she didn’t. He supposed he liked punishing himself. ‘Just to check up,’ he said.

  ‘To make sure I’m behaving myself and not wandering about in the dark?’

  ‘That’s as good a reason as any,’ said Nicholas, ‘and perhaps I should have a word with your friend sometime.’

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Emma in some haste, ‘but thank you, all the same.’

  ‘Take special care, just in case you are a marked woman,’ said Nicholas, opening her front door.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘You’d better,’ said Nicholas byway of a heavy parting shot.

  With his going, her living-room returned to peace and quiet. Since this didn’t please her too much, Emma frowned.

  None of the girls wore their new frocks for Sunday tea. Maggie had had a little chat with them, pointing out that Bobby would be there, and that if new frocks were worn it would look as if they didn’t think much of those his mother had let them have so cheaply, and which were as good as new. It would be nice to let Bobby see they appreciated them. The girls, very happy about the way good fortune had arrived at their door, made no fuss.

  Maggie herself, however, did put on one of her new dresses from Hurlocks, a handsome brocade creation in rich brown silk. Harry found it difficult to keep his eyes off her. Putting two and two together, he guessed her visit to the solicitors had resulted in something to her advantage.

  Trary sparkled in the blue frock originally presented to her by Bobby as a gift from his mum. Her sisters all looked very appealing. Meg asked Harry if he liked her in her apple-green frock.

  ‘You’re good enough to eat,’ said Harry.

  ‘Specially with custard,’ said Bobby. ‘I’ll finish her up if there’s any leftovers, Mr Bradshaw. And I’ll ’ave Daisy for afters, with jelly.’

  ‘I’ll have Lily,’ said Harry, ‘with blancmange.’

  Giggles arrived, and then chatter. Maggie thought Harry fitted in just right, he had a nice easy way of bringing the girls out. No-one mentioned Mr Bates, and she felt very buoyant that she no longer needed any kind of lodger.

  When she was cutting the sultana cake she’d baked that morning, Bobby asked if he might say something about her.

  ‘You’ll have to let him, Mum,’ said Trary, ‘he’ll say it, anyway.’

  ‘I’m not goin’ to make a speech,’ said Bobby.

  ‘Not much,’ said Trary.

  ‘I just wanted to say I’ve never seen your mum look more queenly,’ said Bobby. ‘I don’t get to see a lot of queenly women in the market, nor on trams, either. And I’ve never seen any comin’ out of a pawnshop, have you, Mr Bradshaw? No, I thought you ’adn’t. I bet both of us don’t often have Sunday tea with one.’

  ‘This is the first time for me,’ said Harry, making himself acquainted with a slice of the cake.

  ‘Well, now you mention it, I think it’s the first time for me too,’ said Bobby. ‘I can’t recollect ever ’aving the privilege before.’

  ‘I said he’d make a speech,’ declared Trary. ‘Now he’s showin’ off as well.’

  ‘Is Bobby sayin’ fings about our mum?’ asked Daisy.

  ‘Yes, ’e’s callin’ ’er a queen,’ said Meg.

  ‘Mrs Wilson,’ said Bobby, ‘you don’t mind me sayin’ it’s an honour to see you lookin’ as good as Queen Mary?’

  ‘I’m overcome,’ said Maggie.

  ‘I’ll fall off my chair in a minute,’ said Trary, ‘can’t someone stop him?’

  ‘I think he’s finished for
the moment,’ said Harry.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ said Trary, ‘I was just about to start prayin’. Honest, Mr Bradshaw, when that boy gets started, it’s only ’eaven that can help you.’

  ‘Have you tried cake?’ asked Harry.

  Daisy giggled. ‘I likes ’Arry,’ she said.

  ‘Daisy’s said it again, Mum,’ remarked Lily.

  ‘Little imp, I heard her,’ said Maggie. ‘Bobby, don’t you like sultana cake? You haven’t had any yet.’

  ‘Well, thanks, Mrs Wilson,’ said Bobby, ‘I was just doin’ some thinkin’.’ He helped himself to a slice. ‘I was – ’

  ‘Oh, lor’,’ said Trary, ‘he’s off again.’

  Maggie saw her eldest daughter watching Bobby, a threat showing warm and bright in her eyes.

  ‘Yes, I was thinkin’, Mrs Wilson,’ he said.

  ‘What about?’ asked Maggie.

  ‘I forget.’

  ‘He’s daft,’ said Trary.

  ‘No, it’s a good idea to forget sometimes,’ said Harry, ‘it keeps you out of trouble.’

  ‘Actu’lly,’ said Bobby, ‘I’m always forgettin’ lately, Mrs Wilson, I’ve been like it ever since I met Trary. I just hope that later on, when she’s decided to be me future wife, I don’t forget to turn up for the weddin’. I’ll have to – what’s up with her, Mrs Wilson?’

  Trary was having hysterics.

  ‘Time for the cake cure, Trary,’ said Harry.’

  Trary swooped, not for Bobby’s slice of cake, but one of two jam tarts left on a plate. Bobby read the warning signs. He leapt from his chair and made a dash for safety. Amid shrieks of excitement from Daisy and Lily, Trary went after him, with the jam tart. She caught him in the passage. They heard him shout with laughter. Then, ‘Trary, I don’t know why you’re upset – oh, crikey!’

  Trary came back, wiping her hand on her hankie.

  ‘Trary, where’s that jam tart?’ asked Maggie.

  ‘All over Bobby’s face,’ said Trary.

  The girls shrieked. Harry roared with laughter. Maggie shook her head and hid a smile. They could afford for Trary to use one jam tart to get her own back on her talking boy, even though it was a waste of good food.

  The girls and Bobby did the washing-up afterwards, allowing Maggie to be alone with Harry in the parlour.

  ‘I didn’t mention anything over the tea table,’ said Maggie.

  ‘Anything about what?’ asked Harry, filling his pipe.

  ‘About what ’appened at the solicitors.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t have to, Maggie, it’s your own affair.’

  ‘Yes, but if you hadn’t come round an’ shown me that notice in the paper, I wouldn’t be all dressed up in silk, and I wouldn’t ’ave bought new things for the girls. I just want you to know you’ve helped to make me a bit better off, that My Uncle Henry left me something in ’is will.’

  ‘Well, good for you,’ said Harry.

  ‘I’ve got enough to buy a little house, with a garden. That would be real nice for the girls, don’t you think so, Harry? I wondered, well, I wondered if you could give me a bit of help, if you’d advise me, I don’t know much about buyin’ houses.’

  ‘I think you’ve got enough sense to get yourself just the place you need, Maggie, but if you do need any help, just ask. Your lodger’s gone?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Maggie, and smiled. ‘He took off a bit urgent. I think ’e’s gone to South Africa.’ Not Australia, she thought. It had never been Australia, she was sure. Mr Bates had had obvious reasons for not mentioning South Africa. She dismissed the man permanently from her mind. ‘You don’t mind bein’ a help to me, Harry?’

  ‘It’ll be a pleasure,’ said Harry, lighting his pipe. Maggie smiled again. He looked at home, and that made him seem a comforting man as well.

  ‘Would you come an’ look at houses with me, an’ give me advice, like tellin’ me if I’m gettin’ value for my money? I can afford three hundred pounds for one.’

  ‘Can you? Well, good old Uncle Henry. It’ll be a sound investment.’

  ‘D’you think so? I like to feel I do ’ave some sense, but men know a bit more about – about – ’

  ‘Bricks and mortar?’ said Harry.

  ‘Yes, I wouldn’t want to buy something and not know if it was goin’ to fall down.’

  ‘I get regular Sundays off,’ said Harry. ‘We could take the girls with us.’

  ‘They’d like that,’ said Maggie, ‘but wouldn’t they be a bother?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘Four girls can be a lot.’

  ‘Yes, a lot of fun if they’re like yours,’ said Harry.

  ‘Not all the time,’ said Maggie. His pipe had gone out. She rose from her chair and handed him a box of matches from the mantelpiece. The slanting evening sun, too powerful to be subdued by the dusty air of Walworth, beamed light through the window and tinted her hair with gold. Harry thought her entirely irresistible then.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it’s easier for me to see them as fun,’ he said. He struck a match and applied the flame to his pipe while wondering if all of them, Maggie and her four girls, would take him on. He knew himself in love with the mother. It was a lot to ask, since all the girls would have to be agreeable to it. Step-fathers weren’t acceptable to every child. Resentment on the part of one could mean permanent trouble. ‘Tell you what I’ll do, Maggie, I’ll bring some local papers carrying house advertisements.’

  ‘Somewhere nice, like Herne Hill,’ said Maggie.

  ‘There’s Trary’s schoolin’, of course. You’d need to get her into a similar school, she ought to have the benefit of stayin’ till she’s sixteen.’

  ‘There, that’s what I want,’ said Maggie, ‘good advice. I don’t know I’d manage without someone givin’ me some.’

  ‘You’d manage, Maggie, the same as you managed to get through your hard times.’

  ‘The Salvation Army was a great help one time,’ said Maggie with a smile.

  ‘The Salvation Army?’ enquired Harry.

  ‘Yes, don’t you remember? It was you that collected their big box of food an’ sent it round with Bobby. I don’t think Trary’s ever goin’ to forget openin’ that door an’ seeing him with the box on ’is head.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Harry, ‘I remember.’

  ‘I never knew anything more kind, Harry. I suppose I ’ave managed to manage, but you won’t mind if I lean on you a bit about buyin’ the house and everything?’

  ‘That’s what friends are for, Maggie.’

  ‘Yes, some friends,’ she said. She looked at him. Little trails of smoke ran upwards from his pipe. She felt a surge of warm affection. A man about the place. She knew the girls would like it, providing he was the right kind of man. Trary could hardly wait for him to become her new dad, and Meg thought him fun, which oddly enough was something she hadn’t said about Mr Bates. As for Lily and Daisy, all they’d ask for was someone to tease them, tickle them and make them giggle. ‘You’re a kind friend yourself, Harry.’

  ‘It’s me duty as your local copper,’ said Harry. ‘You’re a fine woman, Maggie, with four fine girls.’

  ‘That’s promising, thought Maggie. But I think he’s going to make haste slowly. He hasn’t asked a single question about just how much money I’m going to get, he’s acted like it isn’t his business. I’d better make it his business. It might be a lot for him to take on, me and the girls, but I’d better get him to marry me. I wouldn’t like a man like him to go to waste. My girls could do with having him around. So could I. Then would be the time to tell him we’ve got a nice little nest egg. I wonder if he’s got a weakness for a lady’s new petticoat?

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ she said aloud, and laughed.

  ‘What’s the joke?’ smiled Harry.

  ‘Oh, I was just ’aving some thoughts.’

  ‘Penny for ’em,’ said Harry.

  ‘No, I couldn’t,’ she said, ‘you’d fall about laughin’.’

  There were sudden gir
lish shrieks from the kitchen.

  Bobby was making himself at home too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ‘You want to get something done about that back of yours,’ said the gas company superintendent, ‘or you’ll end up bent over permanent, like a cousin of mine. Lumbago’s cripplin’.’

  ‘Who said it was lumbago, I didn’t,’ observed Herbert Stephens, one of the company’s collectors. ‘It’s just a weak back.’

  ‘It’s all lumbago, back trouble, ask anybody,’ said the superintendent. ‘Ask your doctor, for a start.’

  ‘I’ve asked him, more than once, super,’ said Stephens. ‘Well, I’ve asked him what my weakness is, and I can’t recall he’s ever said lumbago.’

  ‘It’s all lumbago,’ said the superintendent again. ‘Get it properly treated before it gets incurable. Have you tried a Thermogene pack? I’ve heard they’re a help.’

  ‘Thermogene’s for women’s backs,’ said Stephens, inspecting his collecting bag and his new book.

  ‘Anyone’s backs. Ask your doctor. Buy yourself one and wear it. You don’t want to get yourself into a condition where you can’t do your job.’

  ‘Here, steady on, super, I can’t afford to turn myself into an invalid. I can manage, I can live with it. I’m not saying I like it, but I can still put up with it, and I don’t ask for time off.’

  ‘Well, we wouldn’t want to lose you,’ said the superintendent, ‘you’ve always done a good job.’

  ‘And I’ll still do a good job, for the sake of my wife. All right, perhaps I’ll pick up some Thermogene from the chemist’s, but Maudie won’t like the look of it. She worries enough, as it is. She’ll worry more when she sees me wrapped up in Thermogene. On the other hand, I don’t know, though, it might make her laugh her head off for a change.’

  ‘Well, you do that,’ said the superintendent, ‘you try a Thermogene pack. Can’t do any harm. Anyway, you’ve got what you wanted, a transfer to the Walworth round, startin’ from today. It’s an easier round, and closer to your home.’

  ‘Well, I’ve thanked you for that, super, and I’ll thank you again,’ said Stephens, and went out to begin his new round.