Sammy wondered how he could get around the problem. Well, I don’t have a brainbox for nothing, he thought, and it’s not every day that a fortune’s looking me straight in the eye.
Tilly went out that evening to take a finished skirt to a customer in Penrose Street, opposite the East Street market. The customer, happy with the skirt, paid for it, and Tilly began the walk back to her lodgings. Approaching the pub on the corner, she saw a woman emerge. Her hat was a little askew, and she had a tipsy smile on her face. Agnes Harper had been treating herself to a lively hour in the pub. Tilly recognized her as the next-door neighbour of Mr Rogers.
‘’Ello, dearie,’ said Mrs Harper, mellow with well-being, ‘’ow’s yer good self?’
‘Fine, thanks,’ said Tilly.
‘I’d treat yer to a port and lemon, but I’d best get back ’ome now.’
‘I don’t drink, anyway,’ said Tilly.
‘Do yer good, a little drop of this and that,’ said Mrs Harper, her speech slightly slurred. ‘’Andsome woman like you. Would yer like to walk ’ome with me?’
Tilly, hardly taken with the woman, could think of all kinds of things she’d rather do.
‘I’ve got some calls to make,’ she said.
‘Oh, got some men friends, ’ave yer, ducky?’ said Mrs Harper and winked.
‘Not that kind,’ said Tilly.
‘I never ’eard there was different kinds,’ said Mrs Harper, ‘I thought they was all the same.’ She swayed a little.
‘I must get on,’ said Tilly. She crossed the road into East Street.
‘You are drunk,’ said the man the neighbours knew as Wally Harper, husband of Agnes Harper.
‘’Ere, I ’eard you say that,’ she said, taking her hat off and looking at it in bleary fashion. ‘But I’ll ask you to repeat it, as I don’t know I like it.’
‘You are drunk.’
‘Well, fancy that, ain’t I a naughty girl?’
‘People notice such things.’
‘Well, course they do,’ she said, ‘and they don’t ’old it against a woman who likes a little drop of this and that. At least, they don’t round ’ere or in the East End, I don’t know about where you come from.’
‘You are not being paid to get drunk but to keep house for us.’
‘All right, keep yer shirt on. I ain’t drunk, anyway. Never been one over in me life, just a bit jolly. ’Ow’s Percy?’
‘Talking.’
‘Been ’aving a chat with ’im again, ’ave yer?’ she asked.
‘He’s an amusing bird. Sit down.’
She sat down, and the two men made coffee for her and themselves. She was quite sober when she went to bed later.
Chapter Ten
CASSIE ARRIVED AT ten past eight the following morning, Friday. She was her usual sprightly self, not a bit put out by all the tricks her young charges had got up to yesterday. Dan apologized for their behaviour. Cassie said he didn’t have to, that she had just the same kind of trouble with Freddy, and that it never got her down.
‘Me dad asked where their mum was,’ she said.
‘She’s away a lot,’ said Dan.
‘Oh, lor’, poor woman, fancy bein’ away all that much,’ said Cassie. ‘Never mind, Mr Rogers, I’ll look after them this mornin’ and see to their midday meal.’
‘Would you keep them out of the yard?’ asked Dan.
‘Oh, I’ll take them ’ome with me again,’ said Cassie, ‘and make sure they don’t try to feed me parrot to me cat.’
‘If they do, take them to the Zoo and feed them to the lions,’ said Dan.
‘Oh, ’elp, I don’t want to be fed to no lions,’ said Bubbles.
‘Nor me,’ said Penny-Farving.
‘Behave yourselves, then,’ said Dan, and went up to knock on Tilly’s door.
‘Keep out,’ called Tilly.
‘I’m off now,’ called Dan. ‘Just thought I’d let you know me little angels are goin’ along to Mrs Higgins after Cassie’s left. Mrs Higgins has promised to have them for the afternoon.’
‘That won’t solve anything,’ called Tilly. ‘You can’t marry Mrs ’Iggins. Go and fetch Gladys Hobday ’ome. Good mornin’. Oh, I measured the gels for their new dresses yesterday, and I’ll be startin’ them in a day or so.’
‘Good as one of the fam’ly, you are, Tilly.’
‘Hoppit,’ said Tilly.
With Cassie having taken the holy terrors to her home, Tilly had a busy and undisturbed time at her sewing-machine. At one stage, when she was holding a child’s dress up to the light to inspect the stitching, she experienced the feeling that eyes were watching her. She turned her gaze to the window, and there, at the opposite window, framed by the curtains, was the face of Mrs Harper, her expression wooden. It changed, however, as Tilly caught sight of her, and a neighbourly smile appeared. She waved to Tilly. Tilly nodded and managed a smile of her own. The face disappeared. The knob of the blind cord did a little jig as a withdrawing head of hair brushed it.
I think I’ve got a nosy neighbour, Tilly said to herself.
All went well for Tilly until three-thirty in the afternoon, when she had to go down and answer a knock on the front door. Mrs Higgins stood there, with Bubbles and Penny-Farving.
‘’Ere we are, Miss Thomas,’ said the good lady, ‘I’ve brought the children back.’
‘Beg your pardon?’ said Tilly.
‘It’s us,’ said Penny-Farving.
‘Yes, I told Mr Rogers I’d ’ave them till half-past-three,’ said Mrs Higgins. ‘Now I’ve got to do me shoppin’ and I don’t want to leave them with Alice, not while she still can’t get about much on ’er feet. They’ve been behavin’ themselves except for tryin’ to put our cat through me mangle. Ain’t they a pair of little loves? Well, I’d best get down the market now.’ Off she went, and in went Bubbles and Penny-Farving to gaze up at Tilly with angelic smiles.
Lord have mercy on my soul, thought Tilly, I’m going to strangle their dad this evening.
Cassie was waiting on the corner of Browning Street when Freddy arrived there on his way home from work. His dad was with him. Mr Brown said hello to Cassie and walked on, leaving Freddy to have Cassie to himself, which might be a trial to the lad and might not. It would depend on how Freddy handled her.
‘Oh, ’ello, Freddy,’ she said, ‘fancy it bein’ you.’
‘Well, I’ve been me all day,’ said Freddy. He grinned. ‘And yesterday as well.’
‘Would you like a kiss?’ asked Cassie, looking dreamy.
‘A kiss? What for?’ asked Freddy, walking with her down Browning Street.
‘Well, you’ve just come ’ome from work,’ said Cassie, ‘and I don’t suppose anyone’s kissed you at your scrap yard.’
‘No, well, there’s not a lot of kissin’ goin’ on in the yard,’ said Freddy.
‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Cassie, ‘I don’t want to ’ave to worry about you bein’ unfaithful. King Edward was ever so unfaithful to Queen Alexandra, so me dad told me once, and it turned ’er hair white with worry and she used to have to dye it to hide ’er worry. Oh, look, here’s Mrs ’Arper.’
Mrs Harper was approaching at a brisk walk.
‘’Ello,’ she said, ‘you two again?’
‘Oh, a pleasure, I’m sure,’ said Cassie. ‘I see you don’t ’ave your nice parrot with you, Mrs ’Arper.’
‘I see you don’t ’ave yours, either, ducky,’ said Mrs Harper, summoning up a smile.
‘No, I don’t take ’im out a lot,’ said Cassie. ‘Me sister Nellie says it’s not what parrots are used to. She’s just got ’ome from ’er work and is doin’ the supper.’
‘Well, yer don’t say,’ said Mrs Harper.
‘Cassie will if you let ’er,’ said Freddy with a grin, ‘she does a lot of sayin’.’
‘Got a tongue in ’er head, ’as she?’ said Mrs Harper. ‘Well, good for her. Now I’ve got to go and buy a packet of tea before me ’ubby and ’is brother get ’ome.’
‘Excuse me, Mrs ’Arper,’ said Cassie, ‘but has your ’ouse been ’aunted since you moved in?’
Mrs Harper, remembering her disturbed night, tightened her mouth.
‘Cassie, don’t be daft,’ said Freddy.
‘I just thought I’d ask,’ said Cassie.
Mrs Harper shook herself.
‘Well, like I mentioned,’ she said, ‘I’ll just ’ave to ’ide me ’ead under the blankets if the old lady’s ghost starts walkin’ at nights, won’t I? So long now.’ And away she went. Cassie called after her.
‘Could we bring Cecil to ’ave another talk with Percy sometime, Mrs ’Arper?’
‘Sometime,’ called Mrs Harper, ‘sometime.’
‘There, Freddy,’ said Cassie, ‘you and me can take Cecil in again on Saturday afternoon.’
‘Now look, Cassie,’ said Freddy, as they approached his house, ‘I ain’t spendin’ me Saturday afternoons keepin’ you company with two potty parrots. Me mind’s made up for good.’ They reached his front door. ‘You comin’ in to say ’ello to me mum? Talk to yerself,’ he added. Cassie, using the latchcord, was already in. Following on, he thought someone must have told Mrs Harper about the murder that had happened years ago, that it had been an old lady that got done in. People ought to keep quiet about that sort of thing when talking to new tenants of the house. Not that Mrs Harper had seemed bothered. She’d treated Cassie’s question as a bit of a giggle. Except she had frowned a bit at first.
Tilly had had a brainwave. Collecting offcuts of various materials, she had given them to the girls, together with lengths of string, and told them to make themselves large rag balls that they could play with and throw at each other without doing any damage. When Dan arrived home they were in the kitchen, sitting at the table, still striving after an hour and more to complete large rag balls. Offcuts were scattered over the table and on the floor.
‘’Ello, Dad,’ said Penny-Farving, ‘look what Tilly give us so we can make a big rag ball each.’
‘We’ve been ever so good,’ said Bubbles.
Dan kissed them both and said, ‘That’s the stuff, little sausages. Um, did Tilly say anything when Mrs Higgins brought you home?’
‘No, she just give us funny looks,’ said Penny-Farving.
‘But when she took us up to ’er room, she said there was goin’ to be a war.’ Bubbles offered this piece of information generously.
‘Is there goin’ to be a war, Dad?’ asked Penny-Farving, doing some string-tying.
‘Hope not,’ said Dan. ‘I’ll just go up and have a word with Tilly.’
Up he went. He knocked.
‘Come in,’ said Tilly.
He opened the door and went in. The armchair cushion, flung, arrived in his face. That was followed by a bolster from Tilly’s bed, except that she didn’t fling it, she wielded it, bashing his face and head with it.
‘Oh, my bleedin’ soul—’
‘Take that.’ Bash. ‘And that.’ Wallop. ‘And that!’ Thump.
‘Tilly—’
‘I’ll give you Tilly, I’ll give you something for your bleedin’ soul – take that and some more as well!’ Wallop.
Dan tripped and fell over the armchair. Down came the wielded bolster, bashing him. He grabbed it, pulled at it, and Tilly fell on top of him. They rolled off to the floor, Tilly’s legs up in the air. A consolation factor made up for the bashing as long legs, shining stockings and delectable underwear made a spectacular impact on his eye.
‘Mother O’Reilly, mind my eyesight, Tilly.’
‘Oh, yer gawpin’ oaf, look at me clothes!’
‘Well, I am lookin’, ain’t I? And can I help it?’
‘Oh, yer lecher!’ Tilly jumped up, took hold of the bolster and set about him again, while he was on the floor. ‘You ought to be boiled in oil, you did. Try this for your eyesight!’ Whack, whack.
What a woman. That figure of hers held a healthy percentage of vim and vigour. Dan rolled away from the thumping bolster, and came up on his knees. Wallop. Down he went again. It was war all right. Dan, not a bloke to lie about and get slaughtered, made another grab. Tilly, muffling a yell, fell on top of him again, and Dan rolled her over. Her skirt and slip ran upwards.
‘Now look,’ breathed Dan, ‘can we—’
‘Oh, me legs!’
‘It’s a lot more than that—’
‘I’ll do for you, Dan Rogers! I never met such evil eyes as you’ve got. Pull me skirt down, d’you ’ear?’
Dan got up. Tilly sat up. She covered herself, then took hold of the bolster again. Dan put his foot on it.
‘Can’t we talk?’ he asked.
Tilly came to her feet, face flushed, eyes flashing new danger signals.
‘You did it on me again, you let Mrs ’Iggins land the gels on me this afternoon,’ she said.
‘It wasn’t what I meant,’ said Dan, ‘I told them to look after themselves until I got home.’
‘That’s criminal thinkin’, said Tilly. ‘You can’t leave little gels like them to look after themselves. Little gels like them could set fire to the ’ouse.’
‘I’ll admit, it’s been a bit difficult since Alice fractured her foot,’ said Dan.
‘Oh, yer daft loony,’ said Tilly, ‘can’t you get it into your thick ’ead that their mother’s got to come and take care of them?’
‘Awkward, y’know,’ said Dan,’ ‘she’s not cut out for ’ome life, bein’ what you might call an artiste.’
‘You might call ’er that,’ said Tilly, ‘I’ve got other names for ’er. Where’s ’er circus right now?’
‘I think it’s due to pitch near Margate for a short season.’
‘All right, you go there, then, and I’ll do you a favour by comin’ with you next Sunday,’ said Tilly, with a ferocious kind of determination. ‘We’ll take a wooden mallet with us for knockin’ her on her ’ead. When she’s unconscious, we’ll tie her up, wrap her up and cart ’er back to London on a train.’
‘I don’t think she’ll like that,’ said Dan. ‘It’s her temperament. Have I told you about her temperament? It’s all due to her gipsy upbringing and her feelin’ that she was once a Hungarian dancer.’
‘Did she come from ’Ungary, then?’ demanded Tilly.
‘No, she thinks she’s a reincarnation case,’ said Dan.
‘Oh, she does, does she?’ said Tilly. ‘Well, we’ll see if a few taps of the mallet will knock ’er brains about a bit and wake ’er up to the fact that she’s nobody but Gladys Hobday. Now, you just find out if that circus is really goin’ to be at Margate.’
‘I’ll give it a bit of thought.’
‘You’ll give it more than that,’ said Tilly, ‘or I’ll ’it you with a brick next time you get my goat. Specially if you interfere with me clothes and offend me integrity. ’Ere, what’s that cross-eyed look of yours all about?’
‘Can I help still havin’ mem’ries of what caught me mince pies only a few minutes ago?’ said Dan not unreasonably.
Tilly made a dive for the grounded bolster. Dan made a dive for the stairs. The heavy bolster came hurtling down after him. It struck him in the middle of his back.
‘Got yer!’ called Tilly triumphantly from the landing.
What a woman. Why, he thought, couldn’t a meek and mild one have taken the lodgings? One who wouldn’t have minded keeping an eye on the girls until Alice was back? But when advertising for a lodger, a bloke couldn’t actually put down that his preference was for a female meek and mild, and fond of children. As it was, he’d let himself in for another wild Hungarian.
‘Dad, what was you doin’ with Tilly upstairs?’ asked Penny-Farving as he entered the kitchen.
‘Just a bit of a talk,’ he said.
‘It didn’t sound like that,’ said Bubbles, her odd-shaped rag ball growing in size.
‘There was a lot of bumps,’ said Penny-Farving.
‘Were there, me angel? Well, never mind, no worries.’
‘Just as well you put tha
t blind up,’ said Mrs Harper, as she served supper to the men.
‘Why?’ asked the man called Wally.
‘There’s a woman lodger next door that sits in the window of the upstairs back. She looks to me like she’s usin’ a sewin’-machine. She can see right across.’
‘We’ll start using the blind,’ said Wally. ‘The gas mantle must be lit and the blind pulled down as soon as it becomes dark each night. The light can be turned out later.’
‘Well, you’re the brains round ’ere, I suppose,’ said Mrs Harper.
‘You are still valuable to us,’ said the other man, ‘providing us with a respectable front.’
‘One day next week we will all go out together,’ said Wally.
‘I’ll wear me best ’at,’ said Mrs Harper.
She woke up again that night. But, gritting her teeth, she shut her ears to the whispers and rustles, and went back to sleep. Nothing would get her out of the bed, not until sane daylight broke.
Cassie arrived promptly in the morning, and Dan gave her three shillings, a shilling for each morning so far. Cassie went dreamy with delight and assured him she liked looking after Bubbles and Penny-Farving.
‘That’s nice to hear,’ said Dan, relieving Bubbles of her porridge spoon. She was using it in an attempt to beat her slice of toast to death.
‘Oh, they’re little loves really, Mr Rogers,’ said Cassie.
‘Are they?’ asked Dan, an over-indulgent dad but not so blind as to accept Cassie’s comment at face value.
‘Well, now and again they are,’ said Cassie. ‘I’ll take them to me home again and then down the market, shall I? Then I can do some shoppin’ for me dad that I said I would.’
‘Cassie, would you make sure they don’t pinch fruit off stalls?’
‘If they do, when me back’s turned, shall I give them a smack?’ asked Cassie.
‘Yes, you do that,’ said Dan, who always shirked handing out smacks himself.
‘But, Dad, you don’t like us bein’ smacked,’ protested Penny-Farving.
‘Sorry, sausage, I’ll ’ave to grin and bear it,’ said Dan. He told Cassie he’d be back home in time to prepare the midday meal himself, as it was Saturday, and off he went to his job.
Tilly heard him leave the house. For once he hadn’t come up to deliver his usual load of bland codswallop. Well, that was something to be thankful for. It was more than enough to know she’d saddled herself with the responsibility of persuading him to marry the girls’ mother, or at least to drag the woman home and make her do her duty. Crikey, she’d really set about him yesterday evening. Well, he’d earned it, except it was horrible to remember she’d finished up nearly standing on her head.
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