The young cockney felt a heaviness weighing down on him from which he could not escape. His surroundings, and the people he had known for years, could do nothing to lift his spirits. He tried to fill up the days by throwing himself into the new venture with Johnny Ross. Sometimes it worked. They were a good team. Their greengrocery shop was attracting customers and the trade was improving. Most of the time however, the nagging emptiness was still there, beneath all the activity and hard work. Danny felt his life was leading him nowhere. His love for the two women had left him feeling lost and inadequate. As much as he thought of those brief sojourns with Alison he realised that it could not go on in that way. The excitement of their meetings would dull in time and there would be nothing left. And yet she insisted on there being no more. It could have been different with Kathy. She was desperately unhappy and he could have said the right words when he held her close in the hospital; she was in love with him and wanted him to say he loved her, but the letter in his pocket had prevented him from grabbing happiness for both of them. In the beginning, the war had parted them just when he was becoming aware of how much she could mean to him, and so much had happened in the few months since his return. Now there was a ghastly shadow in Kathy’s past, and he wondered whether she would ever be able to rid herself of the dark ghost of Jack Mason.
Danny realised with a sinking feeling that he had played such a small part in the events around him, and he felt suddenly sad and older. Deep down he had made a decision, and he knew there was only one thing he could do, and there would be no going back.
His pulse beat faster as he reached the little back lane and knocked on the front door. He heard light footsteps and the door opened. The pale, dark–eyed girl stood there looking at him for a few seconds without saying anything. Her eyes widened and two blotches of colour came to her face. Danny grinned, his thumbs hooked into his trouser pockets and his shoulders hunched. ‘’Ello, Kath,’ he said.
Kathy Thompson stepped back a pace. ‘’Ello, Danny, it’s nice ter see yer. Won’t yer come in?’
Danny followed her into the small parlour. It was cool and shadowy, and he could smell the flowers that were arranged in a blue glass vase on the table.
It was a bright day outside. The Saturday afternoon sky was cloudless and sunlight danced on the Thames, making the water sparkle like a river of grey glass. The docks and wharves were quiet and deserted, ships and barges lay at anchor, rocking gently on the turning tide. Seagulls cried out as they glided through the air, diving suddenly down low around the deserted quays, and mooring hawsers strained against the wash from a slowly patrolling police launch. The cobbled riverside lanes were quiet. The street hawkers had come and gone, and inside the open windows the fresh lace curtains hung limp in the still air.
In the tiny parlour the two young people sat facing each other beside the black–leaded grate and gleaming brass fender. The girl looked down at her tightly clasped hands as the young man talked softly.
‘What’s past is past, Kathy. All the wishin’ in the world won’t make it any different. I’m talkin’ about now. I should ’ave made it clear when I came ter see yer in the ’ospital. I couldn’t say it then, Kath, but I can now. I luv yer, an’ I want yer. Are yer listenin’?’
Kathy looked up with tears in her eyes. The lump in her throat prevented her from answering. She nodded and his hands reached out and took hers in a firm grip.
‘Don’t torture yerself, Kath,’ he said, his voice sounding loud in the quietness of the room. ‘I told yer once we were good fer each uvver. I meant it, an’ I’m sayin’ it again. I used ter dream about you an’ me gettin’ married an’ ’avin’ kids. They don’t ’ave ter be dreams any more, Kathy. We can bury the ghosts an’ be ’appy tergevver. We can, can’t we?’
Kathy’s eyes blinked against the tears and she swallowed hard. ‘I’ve never stopped lovin’ yer, Danny, but I was never sure about you. You always seemed ter put a wall between us. I dunno what it was, but I was always aware of it. It seemed as though you was frightened ter say the fings I wanted to ’ear. When yer came back ’ome an’ I first saw yer that night in the pub I wanted ter die. After we made love I knew that my feelin’s fer yer were stronger than ever. That’s what made it so bad. It’appened too late, it should ’ave ’appened before yer left, Danny.’
The drone was far too distant for them to hear as Danny held her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Listen, Kath,’ he said. ‘I don’t pretend ter understand the reasons fer what’s ’appened. I dunno about this fate business, but I’ve asked meself, ’ow comes I got back ’ome an’ the feller next ter me ended up dead on the beach? ’Ow comes Jack Mason gets killed an’ you lose ’is baby? I don’t know the answers. What I do know, is that yer an’ me are sittin’ ’ere tergevver. Will yer walk out wiv me?’
The drone was still some way off as Kathy smiled through her tears. ‘If yer really want me to, Danny.’
He reached out and took her in his arms. His lips touched hers and he could taste her tears as they kissed softly and gently and her arms held him tightly. Their lips parted and Kathy buried her head into his shoulder.
‘Yer know, I was glad ter leave Clink Lane,’ she said. ‘The only fing I regretted was that I wouldn’t see yer around.’
Along the river estuary the formations of aircraft were darkening the summer sky. As the planes followed the bank of silver water the drone became nearer. Danny smiled. ‘Anybody would fink yer moved ter the uvver side o’ London.’
They could both hear the drone now, as he said, ‘After all, it’s only tuppence ter Tooley Street . . .’
Tuppence to Tooley Street Page 28