Tuppence to Tooley Street

by Harry Bowling

  Jimmy was abashed. ‘Oh!’ he breathed, still looking wide-eyed at Danny.

  Danny’s face relaxed. ‘C’mon in, I was only jokin’.’

  The young sailor stepped into the passage and removed his cap to reveal a mop of wavy blond hair. His baby face turned towards the stairs as Connie came hurrying down and took hold of his hand. ‘This is my ’orrible bruv, Danny,’ she said, looking at him affectionately. ‘’E’s bin out celebratin’, Jimmy, so ’e can’t see yer very well.’

  The two shook hands and Danny motioned to the parlour. ‘D’yer wanna cup o’ tea?’

  Connie put her hand on her brother’s arm. ‘Look, bruv, Jimmy’s only got a few days’ leave an’ I’m claimin’ all ’is spare time. Besides, I’m not gonna sit an’ listen ter you two men talkin’ about the war. C’mon, Jimmy, or we’ll miss the big picture.’

  Danny stood by the front door and watched as his sister walked up the turning holding on to Jimmy’s arm, chatting and laughing. The young cockney smiled to himself. Connie was his favourite, and he hoped that nothing would ever happen to mar her happiness.

  Chapter Five

  The sun had left the room and slipped down behind the lop-sided chimney pots. Danny looked into the old faded mirror over the washstand and adjusted the knot of his tie. The clock showed twenty to nine. He patted down his hair with both hands and looked down at his polished shoes. His best grey suit felt tighter than it had when he left the hospital. He undid the buttons of the jacket and peered into the mirror once more. The fading light gave the room a sombre look and Danny felt a desire for company. He opened the door and heard his father’s voice talking to his mother. He hurried down the stairs and put his head around the parlour door. Frank looked up from his paper and Alice stopped sewing.

  ‘You’re not goin’ out again, Danny?’ she asked, looking quite amazed.

  ‘Leave the boy alone, Alice. ’E’s turned twenty-one yer know,’ Frank chided her.

  ‘I know,’ his wife retorted, ‘but I’d ’ave thought ’e’d ’ad enough fer one day, ’spesh’ly in ’is condition.’

  Danny grinned. ‘Hush, Ma, people’ll fink I’m pregnant or somefink.’

  Frank chuckled. ‘’E’ll know when ’e’s ’ad enough, Alice.’E’ll fall over!’

  Danny made to leave, then turned. ‘By the way, ’ow was yer cousin, Dad?’

  ‘Very weak,’ Frank replied. ‘Mind you, she’s turned ninety, yer can’t expect much.’

  Danny dropped his gaze with a nod. ‘Well I’m off folks,’ he said quickly. ‘Don’t wait up, I might be goin’ to a party.’

  Frank leaned back in his armchair. ‘All right fer money?’

  Danny nodded. ‘I’m okay, fanks. I didn’t get a chance ter spend much terday.’

  ‘So I ’eard,’ Frank said, looking over his glasses at Alice.

  The evening was still warm, with heavy storm clouds rolling in. It was still light enough to see the pavement in the blacked-out streets as Danny made his way to The Crown in Dockhead. His leg felt more comfortable now, and he had padded his chest with a few turns of bandage and a cotton wool dressing. At the outset he walked briskly but he became breathless as he crossed the Tower Bridge Road and he slowed his pace. It was fairly quiet as he continued on to Dockhead. A few couples strolled arm in arm along Tooley Street, and a number 68 tram rattled noisily past. Danny walked by a surface shelter with its sandbagged entrance, and it reminded him of Dunkirk. Farther on he saw the large grey spire of St James’s Church showing up against the angry sky. His thoughts turned briefly to Alison. I should have written to her, he thought.

  The Crown stood back from the main road. No light shone out, but sounds of merrymaking reached Danny’s ears while he was still some distance away. He reached the saloon, pushed open the door and went in. The room was filled with tobacco smoke, and there was a strong smell of perfume.

  Johnny Ross called out to him. ‘Over ’ere. I fought yer wasn’t comin’. Yer late.’

  Danny grinned. ‘I got a few hours’ kip. I’m okay, as long as yer don’t lean on me.’

  Johnny pointed over to a tall, wavy-haired individual who was talking to a young woman. ‘That’s Tony. Looks like ’e’s pulled a bird.’

  A barmaid came over and set some drinks down on the counter in front of Johnny, who pointed in Danny’s direction. ‘An’ a mild an’ bitter fer me mate, luv.’

  The barmaid gave Johnny a sweet smile as she reached for a glass and proceeded to pull on the pump handle. Johnny’s eyes looked down at the barmaid’s low-cut V-necked dress and her eyes flickered at him.

  ‘Pour yerself one,’ Johnny said, winking at her suggestively.

  Danny had been casting his eyes around the bar and suddenly he saw Kathy. His immediate reaction was to look away, but he found himself staring at her. She looked even prettier than the picture of her he had carried in his mind during all those months in France. He felt a surge of jealousy when he realised Kathy was not alone. She was talking to a well-dressed, thick-set man whose hair was combed smartly back from his forehead. Danny estimated the man to be in his mid-thirties. As he watched the couple Danny noticed that Kathy seemed to be disagreeing with her companion, she kept shaking her head and he was getting more agitated.

  Johnny observed Danny’s interest. ‘’Ere, cop yer drink, Danny boy, an’ take yer covetin’ eyes off ’er,’ he said. ‘That bloke spells trouble fer the likes of us.’

  ‘Who is ’e?’ Danny asked, still looking in Kathy’s direction.

  ‘That’s Jack Mason. ’E used ter run the Elephant and Castle mob a few years ago. ’E done porridge fer GBH. ’E still runs wiv the mobs, so I’m told. That sort o’ geezer don’t go out of’is way ter ’elp ole ladies across the road.’

  Danny sipped his beer and paid little attention as Johnny Ross attempted to bring him up to date with the news in dockland. Kathy had seen him now. Her eyes caught his and held his gaze for an instant, then she deliberately moved around slightly so that she was out of Danny’s line of vision. Her stocky companion was still in view however, and Danny could see him nodding his head vigorously. More people crowded into the bar and soon he could not see either of them. It was getting stuffy in the saloon bar and presently Johnny nudged his pal. ‘Let’s move inter the uvver bar, there’s more room in there,’ he said.

  The small room that separated the saloon from the public bar was mainly used for darts. A few regulars sat around against the wall, and customers came through to use the toilets. Danny bought more drinks and leaned against the counter.

  Johnny jerked his thumb in the direction of the clock. ‘We’re goin’ roun’ Tony’s soon’s the pub closes. We’ll take a crate wiv us, jus’ ter show we’re willin’. By the way, Elsie said she’s comin’ round later.’

  ‘Who’s Elsie?’ Danny asked.

  ‘Elsie’s that darlin’ be’ind the bar. ’Er ole man’s doin’ bird, an’ Elsie’s lonely.’

  Danny shook his head and grinned. ‘You’ll be lonely if ’er ole man finds out.’

  Johnny shrugged his shoulders. ‘Elsie’s ole man’s doin’ a long stretch. From what she tells me, ’e was always playin’ around ’imself.’

  ‘That makes no difference,’ Danny persisted. ‘’E mus’ get visits. Somebody’s only gotta grass yer up an’ ’e can soon get one of ’is mates ter sort yer out. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s’appened.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Danny boy, Johnny Ross can look after’imself. ’E don’t scare me.’

  Danny Sutton raised his glass. ‘’Ere’s to yer, Johnny. I ’ope yer stay ’ealfy.’

  Johnny clinked his glass against Danny’s. ‘Nice ter see yer’ome in one piece. Now yer gotta start earnin’ some shekels. First of all though, yer gotta get fixed up wiv a bird. Yer don’t wanna start mopin’ about, do yer?’

  Danny grinned and looked back into the crowded bar. Johnny puffed hard. ‘’Ere, ’old up! You ain’t finkin’ o’ takin’ up wiv that Kathy again, are yer? I’d leave well alone.
She’s got a villain on tow, an’ as it ’appens them two are comin’ ter the party. We don’t want claret all over Tony’s carpet, ’e would get the needle.’

  ‘Don’t yer worry, Johnny. I’m finished wiv fightin’, an’ I’ve got me discharge book ter prove it.’

  It was almost closing time when Kathy walked into the small bar. Her cotton dress hugged her figure and Danny noticed how her large brown eyes seemed to sparkle as she gave him a smile. ‘’Ow are yer, Danny? Connie told me you was ’ome.’

  ‘I’m fine, an’ you?’

  ‘I’m okay.’

  Danny shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Johnny tells me yer might be goin’ ter Tony’s party.’

  ‘Yes, I’m just off ter powder me nose,’ Kathy laughed.

  ‘I’ll see yer there then. We can ’ave a chat,’ Danny said, catching Johnny’s dark look.

  Kathy began to look uncomfortable. ‘Matter o’ fact I’m wiv somebody,’ she said.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Danny said with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘We can still say ’ello, can’t we?’

  ‘Course we can,’ Kathy said as she walked off to the ladies’ room.

  The loud voice of the barman calling time spurred Johnny into action. ‘C’mon, me ole son. Give us an ’and wiv the crate.’

  Danny reached into his pocket and Johnny stopped him. ‘There’s nuffink ter pay. The guv’nor owes me. I done ’im a favour last week. ’E’s gettin’ off lightly.’

  The crate containing a dozen bottles of light ale was passed over the counter, and they each took hold of a handle. ‘C’mon, Danny, let’s get roun’ there, it’s only in the next turnin’,’ Johnny said, winking at Elsie as he walked to the door.

  Outside the night was dark, with a waxing moon peering out from heavy cloud. Johnny limped along on his bad ankle and Danny too found himself limping.

  Johnny started giggling. ‘You know what, if the birds could see us two now, we’d ’ave as much chance of pullin’ ’em as Biff Bowden’s dog’s got of winnin’ the Grey’ound Derby.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Danny laughed, ‘yer don’t ’ave ter do it standin’ up.’

  ‘Don’t you be so sure,’ Johnny countered. ‘Elsie likes it standin’ up!’

  Three stone steps led up to Tony Allen’s house in Dock Street. The front door was ajar. It looked impressive with its varnished surface and brass knocker. Once inside the two men put the crate down in the hallway, and Danny looked around. ‘Christ! It makes a change ter see an ’ouse wiv electric light,’ he said, standing on one leg and flexing the other.

  Tony had already heard them and he came out into the hallway and nodded to Johnny. ‘Is this Danny?’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Johnny told me about yer bein’ at Dunkirk. Must’ave bin ’ell. You just enjoy yerself, son. ’Elp yerselves ter drinks.’

  ‘Let’s go an’ chat up the birds, Danny, before Elsie gets’ere,’ Johnny grinned.

  In the large room there was a piano at one end, and there were gilt-framed pictures of mountains and lakes around the walls. Easy chairs were spread about the room. The red carpet was thick underfoot, and heavy velvet curtains kept the light in. A Japanese fire screen hid the hearth, and up on the high mantelshelf there were iron statues of rearing horses. The centrepiece was of gilt, and it caught Danny’s eye–nude figures were draped in various poses around the clock-face, and the whole piece was mounted on a marble plinth. Johnny noticed that his pal was staring at the ornament. ‘Yer don’t get somefink like that on Cheap Jack’s stall, do yer?’

  ‘All this mus’ be werf a fortune,’ Danny remarked, his eyes moving around the room.

  ‘Yeah, Tony’s got a lot o’ contacts apart from ’is bookie’s business,’ Johnny informed him. ‘In fact, ’e’s gonna put a bit o’ business my way later. I’ll tell yer about it termorrer–we can’t talk ’ere.’

  The room was getting full and the piano player began to tinkle away on the keyboard. People started singing and the drinks flowed. Elsie flounced in looking hot and bothered in her fur stole. She came over to Johnny and kissed him on the mouth. Soon after, Kathy came into the room escorted by Jack Mason. The two looked serious-faced, though Kathy relaxed slightly when Tony Allen went up to them. Danny sat in one corner of the room, his drink held in his hand. Johnny was joking with Elsie and occasionally he slid his hand over her behind as Elsie snuggled up to him. And when the piano player started playing a waltz she dragged Johnny into the centre of the room and almost smothered him in her ample bosom as she danced around dreamily. Danny watched the pair gyrating, and then his eyes turned to Kathy again. She was over in the far corner of the room, looking stern as she sat cross-legged in an armchair. Her escort seemed to be ignoring her as he talked animatedly with Tony and two other men. Danny tried to catch her eyes but she appeared to be avoiding his stare. A few more couples got up to dance and someone pulled Kathy into the centre of the large room. She waltzed around, looking bored with the whole procedure, while her partner acted as if he were taking part in a dancing contest. A middle-aged lady asked Danny if he would care to dance, but with a brief smile he told her that he had a stiff leg, and immediately he regretted having said it. The lady showed concern and started to explain her own medical history, but then someone grabbed her and whisked her off into the dancing group. Danny got up and refilled his glass. As he walked back to his chair Kathy and her partner glass. As he walked back to his chair Kathy and her partner danced near to him. Kathy’s eyes met his, and she raised hers to the ceiling in anguish as her feet were stamped on yet again.

  Danny sipped his drink and looked around; everyone seemed to be with someone. Two girls who had walked into the party unescorted were now chatting happily with a group of young men. Danny began to wish he had stopped at home. The piano player broke off to get a drink and Kathy resumed her place in the armchair. Jack Mason looked around briefly and then carried on talking with Tony Allen.

  Another ten minutes and they can stuff this party, Danny thought as he finished his drink.

  ‘What’s wrong wiv yer leg then, luv?’ somebody asked him.

  Danny looked around to see a large lady leaning over his shoulder. Her face was flushed and he could smell strong perfume and see the sweat lines running down her heavily powdered face. She was grinning, with her thick-painted lips parted to show large teeth.

  ‘Somebody put a bullet frew it,’ Danny said sharply.

  ‘Good Gawd! You a soldier?’ she asked.

  ‘I was till I got this,’ Danny replied.

  ‘Why, you don’t look old enough ter be a soldier, does ’e Muriel?’

  ‘No,’ Muriel said, without taking her eyes off the bald-headed suitor by her side.

  The big lady tut-tutted and lost interest in Danny’s wounded leg. She returned to Muriel’s crowd, to Danny’s relief.

  Over in the far corner Kathy was shaking her head at Jack Mason and she looked distressed. Jack gesticulated with a wave of his arm and turned his back on her and Kathy suddenly got up and made for the door. Danny watched as she took her coat down from the clothes-rack, said something to the woman who had been serving the drinks, then quickly left. Danny stood up and with a quick glance in Jack Mason’s direction he put his glass down on the sideboard and walked casually towards the door. Danny walked out into the hallway and let himself out into the street. It was too dark to see far but he could hear Kathy’s footsteps up ahead. Quickening his pace he got closer. Kathy’s high-heeled shoes clicked faster on the pavement and Danny called out, ‘Kathy! It’s me! Danny!’

  Kathy continued walking. ‘Leave me alone, Danny! I’m goin’ ’ome!’ she called out.

  ‘Wait, Kathy! I can’t walk fast! I wanna talk wiv yer!’

  The footsteps halted and when Danny reached her he was panting. He saw the tears falling down her cheeks and her eyes shining in the darkness.

  ‘Let me walk yer ’ome at least,’ he pleaded.

  Kathy dabbed at her eyes with a small handkerchief and smiled through her tears. ‘It lo
oks like you need somebody ter see you ’ome,’ she said.

  Danny put his hands into his trouser pockets and fell in beside her. ‘I’ll be okay in a minute. It was stuffy in that party, I wasn’t enjoyin’ it one little bit.’

  ‘Nor was I,’ Kathy said.

  ‘I could see that. Is Jack Mason your steady bloke?’

  ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about Jack Mason?’ Kathy said sharply.

  ‘All right, let’s talk about me then,’ Danny grinned. ‘Let’s see, I’m a war ’ero, an’ I’m off ter see the King next week ter get me Victoria Cross! King George’ll say: “‘Ow did yer manage ter be so brave?” an’ I’ll say: “It was nuffink, Your Majesty, we’re all the same in Bermon’sey”.’

  Kathy laughed aloud and took his arm. ‘Was it really bad in Dunkirk? I’m sorry, it must ’ave bin terrible. What I meant was, was it bad fer you? Gettin’ ’urt like yer did.’

  Danny pulled up his coat collar against the cool breeze and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Tell yer the trufe, Kathy, I was out cold when I got pulled out o’ the water. I don’t remember anyfing till I woke up in the ’ospital. I found out later that some feller ’eld on ter me, even though ’e couldn’t swim a stroke’imself. ’E supported the pair of us by clingin’ on to an upturned boat. If anybody deserves a medal ’e does, I wouldn’t be ’ere if it wasn’t fer ’im.’

  The two reached the end of Dock Street and turned into Dockhead. Although the night was dark, the half-hidden moon seemed to bathe the streets in a faint light. They approached Shad Thames, a narrow turning where wharves and warehouses loomed high and sombre. Danny chuckled, and Kathy pulled on his arm. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Jus’ somefing I thought of,’ Danny said, still chuckling.

  ‘C’mon then, let us in on the joke.’

  ‘All right,’ Danny said, leaning his head in her direction, ‘when the lads used ter pull the birds–sorry, girls–they used ter say to ’em, “’Ow would yer like ter see Butler’s new crane?” They’d tell ’em all about ’ow big an’ tall it was, an’ they’d take ’em down ter Butler’s Wharf in Shad Thames.’