Missing Person

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Missing Person Page 11

by Mary Jane Staples


  ‘She’ll break the furniture up,’ said Dan. ‘Elvira’s a bit—’

  ‘Elvira my foot,’ said Tilly. ‘You get ’er home. Your gels ’ave got to ’ave a full-time mother. They gave Cassie the run-around this mornin’. When she took them to ’er home, they managed to knock ’er parrot and its cage off ’er kitchen table, and ’er cat nearly got the bird. Then when she took ’em down the market, they pinched three bananas off Ma Earnshaw’s stall, Ma Earnshaw with ’er eagle eyes and all. And this afternoon I’ve ’ad to ’ave them up with me to keep them out of the yard and rollin’ the dustbin about. Gels of four and five rollin’ a dustbin about, I never ’eard the like.’

  ‘They’re lively, I’ll say that much,’ said Dan, ‘but I can see I need to talk to them.’

  ‘I’ve ’eard you talkin’ to them,’ said Tilly, ‘like a soft cream doughnut. I’m sorry to say so, but they need a smack, and it’s you that’s got to do it.’

  ‘Smack me little angels?’

  ‘Yes, if you don’t want them to turn into little ’orrors permanent,’ said Tilly.

  ‘Ruddy elephants,’ said Dan, ‘can’t have that, can we? What’re they doin’ now?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Tilly.

  ‘Nothing?’

  ‘They’re tied to the armchair,’ said Tilly.

  ‘Who tied them?’

  ‘I did,’ said Tilly. ‘Now, never mind about Gladys Hobday breakin’ up your furniture if you bring her home, because I’ll break it up meself if you take any more advantage of me good nature.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Dan, ‘you’re a bit of a wild Hungarian yerself, Tilly.’

  ‘You barmy coot, will you stop talkin’ about Hungarians? Do like I said, go and yank the gels’ mother off ’er tightrope and bring ’er back ’ere, or I’ll go and find other lodgings.’

  ‘I hope you won’t, Tilly,’ said Dan, ‘you’re already like one of the fam’ly.’

  ‘Don’t make me fall about,’ said Tilly. What vexed her most about this cheerful Charlie was his failure to marry the girls’ mother and legitimize them. It was all very well to keep dark about not being married, but that skeleton in his cupboard would come to light one day. ‘Do yer duty by the gels. I’ll go up now and untie them, and it’s up to you to see that when they come down the stairs they don’t break their necks.’

  ‘Thanks, Tilly, anyway, for keepin’ an eye on them,’ said Dan. ‘Accept an appreciative little gift with me gratitude and compliments.’ He picked up a white paper bag from the table and handed it to her. Tilly, opening it, saw a box of chocolates. She put the bag back on the table at once.

  ‘Kind of you, I’m sure, Mr Rogers,’ she said, ‘but it’s bribery, and I ain’t that sort of lady, I don’t accept chocolate that’s meant to turn me into a nursemaid to your gels, thanks all the same.’

  ‘Believe me, Tilly—’

  ‘Nice try, Mr Rogers, but if you come up tomorrow mornin’ and ask me again to listen out for the gels, I’ll ’ave a try meself at throwin’ you down the stairs. Stop runnin’ away from your responsibilities.’

  Dan ran a hand through his hair as she left the kitchen. What a woman. She was more Hungarian than Elvira. Elvira, with her temperament, was a danger to the furniture. Tilly was a danger to life and limb. That figure of hers, it must be full of coiled springs forever waiting to get sprung.

  All the same, his grin arrived and spread.

  Bubbles and Penny-Farving came down from Tilly’s upstairs back looking in need of a wash and brush-up to tell their dad that Tilly had tied them to a chair. Bubbles said it wasn’t very nice, and Penny-Farving said she supposed they’d been naughty.

  ‘And were you?’ asked Dan.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Penny-Farving.

  ‘I think the pair of you gave young Cassie a hard time this mornin’,’ said Dan. ‘I heard that for starters you knocked her parrot and cage off the table, and then helped yerselves to bananas from Ma Earnshaw’s stall. Why’d you do that?’

  ‘We wanted one each for us and one for Cassie,’ said Bubbles.

  ‘But you’ve both got pocket money, so why didn’t you pay for them, you monkeys?’

  ‘We forgot,’ said Bubbles.

  ‘Did Cassie make you take them back?’

  ‘Bubbles ate ’ers,’ said Penny-Farving, ‘and when we give one to Cassie, she ate it.’

  ‘She did, did she?’ said Dan.

  ‘So I ate mine,’ said Penny-Farving.

  ‘I’ve got an idea she didn’t know you hadn’t paid for them,’ said Dan.

  ‘Not till afterwards, when she asked,’ said Penny-Farving.

  ‘She made us go and pay for them then,’ said Bubbles. ‘Dad, they cost a penny each.’

  ‘Well, hard luck,’ said Dan, ‘and I’m goin’ to have to smack the pair of you.’

  ‘Crikey, you ain’t, Dad, are you?’ gasped Penny-Farving.

  ‘It’s got to be done,’ said Dan. ‘After supper.’

  ‘Where you goin’ to smack us?’ asked Bubbles.

  ‘On your bottoms.’

  ‘Oh, ’elp,’ said Bubbles.

  ‘I’m goin’ to sit on mine,’ said Penny-Farving.

  Later, just as Dan was about to dish up the supper of fresh haddock, the front door knocker sounded. He answered it. Mrs Harper was on his doorstep.

  ‘Is this yours?’ she asked, showing him a dustbin lid.

  ‘I don’t know, Mrs Harper, is it?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘I don’t know ’ow them little terrors of yours managed it, but they chucked it over the wall into me yard. ‘I’ve got to ask you, Mr Rogers, to stop ’em playin’ about out there. The noise they make goes right through me ’ead. Now take this lid back.’

  Dan took it and Mrs Harper departed in a state of umbrage. Dan was forced to tell his young daughters that if they misbehaved themselves tomorrow at any time, he’d hand them over to a policeman.

  Bubbles giggled.

  ‘Think it’s funny, do you, Bubbles?’ said Dan.

  ‘Yes, I like policemen,’ said Bubbles.

  Somehow, she and Penny-Farving escaped smacked bottoms.

  Tommy Adams was just thirty. His wife Vi would be thirty in August. They lived in a quite nice house in Grove Lane, Camberwell, with a small garden. Tommy had a mortgage on the property. There were two children, five-year-old Alice and three-year-old David. Tommy also had a car, supplied by the firm. He was up in the world, and so was Vi, which pleased her mum, known to her relatives as Aunt Victoria. Aunt Victoria had always thought Vi, her only child, had been born to be up in the world.

  Tommy, arriving home from his work as manager of the garments factory belonging to Adams Fashions, tickled Alice, tickled David and kissed his wife. In Tommy’s opinion, Vi always deserved a kiss, being the most equable and easy-going wife a bloke could wish for. Wives like Vi never argued about the love, honour and obey bit. Lizzy, Emily and Susie, on the other hand, all thought it had been invented by some ancient archbishop whose wife left him to do his own cooking while she went off to do the dance of the seven veils in ancient Rome nightclubs. For her part, Vi thought Tommy easy-going himself and the most soft-hearted of Chinese Lady’s three sons. She had to remind him sometimes not to let Sammy take advantage of him. Tommy always said that when his kid brother was able to take any kind of advantage of him, he’d eat the mangle. But Sammy, of course, was always doing it by making Tommy do the work of two managers instead of employing an assistant.

  ‘Sammy been on the phone to you?’ asked Tommy.

  ‘No, should he ’ave been?’ said Vi.

  ‘Well, you’ve got some shares in the fam’ly scrap metal business,’ said Tommy, ‘and Sammy’s after sellin’ the company. If it comes off, it’ll mean four thousand quid for my shares and two thousand for yours. Six thou in all, Vi. We could buy one of those big ’ouses in South Norwood with an acre of garden, pay a gardener to do the hard work and a maid to look after the ’ousework. How about that for a posh leg-up?’
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  ‘All that money?’ said Vi. ‘Tommy, I’d get a temp’rature. Besides, I don’t want any maid runnin’ my house. She’d get bossy and give the children looks every time they sat on a cushion. And I wouldn’t know how to give ’er the sack.’

  ‘Still,’ said Tommy, ‘six thousand smackers.’

  ‘It’s too much,’ said Vi, ‘it’s got to be a joke. We couldn’t handle money like that.’

  ‘I don’t know it would actually hurt,’ said Tommy, ‘and we could make a religious job of tryin’ to get used to it. Mind, it’s nowhere near settled yet. Sammy wants everything in writing, and when he’s satisfied with what’s on paper, we’ll all ’ave to attend a meetin’ in Sammy’s office and vote on it.’

  ‘What does Boots say?’ asked Vi.

  ‘He’s tryin’ to slow Sammy down. He says if we let the company go, it’s gone for ever. Then there’s all the workers that run the yards. Boots ain’t too keen on them bein’ handed over lock, stock and barrel with everything else, specially as the company owns the freeholds of some of the yards. Sammy says that’s why the offer’s as good as it is. Forty thousand.’

  ‘Forty?’ Vi went faint. ‘It’s nearly criminal, anyone ’aving that much money.’

  ‘No-one’s goin’ to have it all, Vi. It’ll be divided up among the fam’ly shareholders.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s still makin’ me dizzy,’ said Vi.

  ‘Even Sammy’s got a touch of that,’ said Tommy. ‘Boots ’asn’t. Well, you know Boots. ’E was born with immunity.’

  ‘Well, he never runs after money like Sammy does,’ said Vi.

  ‘But it’s Sammy who’s made the businesses what they are,’ said Tommy, ‘right from when ’e first started Adams Enterprises and saw to it we all had shares in each company. Sammy’s sharp, but he’s also fam’ly-minded. We’ve all got our own ’ouses now, and cars. We’re up in the world all right, Vi, even without what we’ll get if the scrap metal company is sold.’

  ‘I’d like to hear for myself what Boots ’as to say before I do any votin’,’ said Vi.

  ‘Hold on,’ said Tommy, ‘you and me’ll vote the same way, won’t we?’

  ‘Well, of course, lovey,’ said Vi, ‘you’ll vote your way and I’ll vote my way, it’s the same for both of us.’

  Tommy grinned.

  ‘Same privilege?’ he said.

  ‘Same privilege, Tommy.’

  ‘I’ve just found something out,’ said Tommy.

  ‘’Ave you, Tommy?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve just found out you’re not just a pretty face.’

  Vi smiled.

  ‘Will the meetin’ be soon?’ she asked.

  ‘Sammy’ll let everyone know.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s all goin’ to keep me awake tonight,’ said Vi, fair-haired and soft-eyed.

  ‘I’ll be with yer, Vi.’

  ‘Doin’ what?’ asked Vi.

  ‘Well, if you’re goin’ to stay awake,’ said Tommy, ‘we might as well do something mem’rable.’

  Vi laughed.

  ‘Go and do something mem’rable with your son and daughter,’ she said, ‘like standin’ them on their heads to stop them racketin’ about.’

  Lizzy discussed the possible sale with Ned. Ned said it was entirely up to her to decide how she voted. They’re your shares, Eliza, and it’ll be your money if the sale goes through. Our money, said Lizzy. What money you’ve got is ours, so what money I might have is ours. We’re married in case you’ve forgotten. All the same, said Ned, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have your own nest egg. It’ll be a family nest egg, said Lizzy. Four thousand pounds, she thought, crikey. That’s if the company’s sold. She’d already wondered what could be done with it. She and Ned and their children really had all they needed because of Ned’s well-paid job as manager of a wine merchant’s store in Great Tower Street. They didn’t need a larger or posher house. The one they’d always had was the kind she’d dreamed of having during the years when a girl could only dream. No, if she used some of the money, she’d use it for Ned, who’d been a loving husband, a good dad and a generous provider. There’d been ups and downs, of course, but Ned was the one who’d made her dreams come true. So she’d thought of using some of the money to get a local builder to enlarge the attic and fit it up as a posh billiards room with easy access. Ned was gone on billiards and another game called snooker. He sometimes played at a City club in his lunch hour. Converting the attic would cost a lot, of course, but the idea was favourite with her at the moment, although she was keeping it to herself.

  ‘That Sammy,’ said Chinese Lady, presiding in her upright way at the supper table, ‘what’s he want all this money for?’

  ‘His family,’ said Boots.

  ‘Sounds reasonable,’ said Mr Finch.

  ‘Am I goin’ to get some?’ asked young Tim.

  ‘Someone might find you ten bob,’ said Emily.

  ‘Well, I won’t say no to that, will I, Dad?’ said Tim.

  ‘You’ll be a mug if you do,’ said Boots.

  ‘There, look what the talk of money’s already doin’ to a boy who didn’t ought to be thinking about more than pennies,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘Might I ask if anyone’s heard that Sammy’s hard-up?’

  ‘I haven’t, Nana,’ said Rosie, ‘but I know I was hard-up myself until I earned that seven-and-six from Daddy.’

  ‘Talked it out of me, you mean,’ said Boots.

  ‘If you don’t mind,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘I want to know if Sammy’s suddenly got hard-up.’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so, Mum,’ said Emily, ‘not when he’s spent all his life makin’ sure he wasn’t.’

  ‘Then what’s he want all this money for?’ demanded Chinese Lady.

  ‘His family,’ said Boots.

  ‘You’ve already said that,’ remarked Chinese Lady. ‘D’you mean he’s got money himself, but keeps Susie and his children short of it? I hope that youngest son of mine’s not turnin’ into a miser, I don’t hold with havin’ any misers in this fam’ly.’

  ‘It’s nothing like that, old lady,’ said Boots. ‘I think he simply fancies buying a dukedom and making Susie his duchess.’

  Chinese Lady stared. Mr Finch emitted a slight cough, which was his usual way of warning her not to take Boots too literally.

  ‘Sammy fancies what?’ she said.

  ‘Being a duke, Nana,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Or a country squire, say, with a butler,’ said Boots. Rosie smothered a giggle.

  ‘I’m hearin’ things,’ said Chinese Lady.

  ‘I’ve been hearin’ them since my weddin’ day,’ said Emily.

  ‘Well, it’s no good me talkin’ to your husband,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘he’ll only say more things that don’t make sense. So p’raps you’d better ask him if he’s bein’ serious or not.’

  ‘Are you bein’ serious, Boots?’ asked Emily.

  ‘I think Sammy is,’ said Boots.

  ‘Grandpa, do dukes wear crowns?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘Ducal crowns?’ said Mr Finch. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Crikey, will we have to bow to Uncle Sammy, Nana?’ asked Tim.

  ‘If I catch anyone in this house bowing to that youngest son of mine, I’ll send for the doctor,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘But you can all be sure there’s not goin’ to be any dukes or country squires in my fam’ly while I’ve still got breath in me body. Nor misers, neither. Wait till I next see Sammy, I’ll give ’im something to think about. Besides, there’s our other relatives, Susie’s dad and her brother Freddy. I’m not havin’ them put out of work by this firm that’s after gettin’ their hands on one of the fam’ly businesses. I wouldn’t be able to look Susie’s mum in the face. Em’ly, Tim’s got his elbows on the table.’

  ‘Elbows off, Tim,’ said Emily.

  ‘And ask Boots what he’s smilin’ about.’

  ‘Dad’s not smilin’, Nana,’ said Tim.

  ‘Well, he looks as if he is,’ said Chinese Lady.

  Rosi
e couldn’t have agreed more. Boots always did look as if there was a smile lurking about somewhere.

  Susie was speaking to Sammy.

  ‘Sammy, I’ve been thinking. You can’t sell all the yards, you’ve got to keep one, the one that employs Freddy and my dad.’

  ‘But, Susie, I can contract for them to—’

  ‘Sammy, I’m talkin’ to you.’

  ‘Yes, I’m hearin’ you, Susie.’

  ‘But you’re not listening. I said we’re not to sell all the yards.’

  ‘In a deal like this, Susie, it has to be all.’

  ‘Sammy, my dad and Freddy won’t want to work for Johnson’s, they like workin’ for us.’

  ‘Well, I’m flattered, Susie, but—’

  ‘I don’t want any buts, Sammy.’

  ‘Well, nevertheless, Susie—’

  ‘Sammy, you weren’t brought up to use words like that. Even Boots doesn’t say nevertheless. Only people on the wireless do. Suppose someone like Mr Greenberg heard you say nevertheless? He’d think it meant you could see round corners, and no-one trusts people who can see round corners. Sammy, you talk quite nice mostly. Not like Boots, of course. Well, he’s got a natural way of bein’ lordly without actually soundin’ stuck-up.’

  ‘Listen, if anyone can see round corners, Boots can.’

  ‘No, he can’t, he wouldn’t want to. It’s a sneaky sort of thing. Anyway, when I’m talkin’ to you, Sammy, don’t say nevertheless. It means you’re goin’ to try and do what I don’t want you to do.’

  ‘Susie, when it’s a matter of business—’

  ‘You’ve got to keep that one yard, Sammy.’

  ‘Well, as I mentioned, Susie, in this kind of a deal—’

  ‘Bother the deal,’ said Susie. ‘Who needs it?’

  ‘But wouldn’t you like a country mansion?’

  ‘Sammy, I don’t like feelin’ I’m talkin’ to a brick wall. I’ve got you and the children, and a house that’s as good as a mansion.’ Their house on Denmark Hill was large, handsome and much admired. ‘And I don’t want to go and live in the country away from everyone.’

  ‘I’ll do some thinkin’, Susie.’

  ‘That’s better,’ said Susie.

 

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