‘I would, Bob, but . . .’ He hesitated before adding wistfully, ‘. . . there’s Molly here to think about.’
‘They wasn’t expecting me to bring no one else, Dan.’ Bob blew his breath out noisily between pursed lips and slowly shook his head. ‘I’m gonna have to explain how I bumped into you as it is. I dunno how they’d react if I had the two of yers tagging along.’
‘Well I can’t just dump her, can I?’
Molly folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. ‘Yer don’t have to worry about me, Dan.’ She was doubly annoyed – her brother was not only making a very good job of showing her up by talking about her as though she were a bag of dirty laundry he was having to cart about, but worse still, his friend already seemed to have lost any interest he had in her. She could have kicked herself for the way she’d acted all stupid and flattered; it had obviously put him off. The trouble was, she told herself, this was all so new to her, all this caring about what a feller thought about her. And there was something about Bob, something about the way he looked at her and the way he had kissed her hand. She couldn’t explain it, but he made her feel as though she were ready to do whatever he wanted. It scared her. Now she’d made enough of a fool of herself, and she was blowed if she’d let him know what effect he’d had on her.
She shrugged carelessly. ‘It’s all right with me if I ain’t invited. There’s plenty of people round here to keep me busy.’ With a pointed smile Molly waved cheerfully at a noisy group of boys who were strutting past on the other side of the street. ‘And anyway,’ she added, looking slyly at her brother, ‘I’m meeting Lizzie Watts, ain’t I?’
Molly could barely disguise her pleasure at seeing that it was now Danny’s turn to look disappointed with the arrangements.
All thoughts of teasing his sister in front of Bob were gone from his mind. ‘Yer meeting Liz? Yer never said. When?’
‘Soon as she gets here.’
Bob smiled at Molly. ‘I reckon he likes this girl, whoever she is.’
Molly smiled sweetly. ‘Reckon he does.’
‘Tell yer what, how about if me and Danny nip off for a while to see these fellers. It won’t take long. Then, when we get back, us three and this Lizzie can all go off to the pictures together. How’d that suit yer?’
Determined not to sound too eager, Molly looked casually around her. ‘I don’t mind,’ she said lightly. ‘I’m easy. But here’s Liz now.’ She pointed. ‘You can ask her yerselves.’
The two boys turned and looked back along the East India Dock Road. Liz Watts, Molly’s best friend, was walking towards them. She was brushing the dust off her dress, a sure sign that she had just shinned up over the wall at the end of Plumley Street.
Whereas Molly was vivacious and good-looking in a striking, red-haired way, Liz Watts was softly pretty with fair hair gently curling around her pale pink cheeks. Like Molly she was sixteen years old and worked in Terson’s, a warehouse near the docks, packing tea. She and Molly had grown up together and, everyone in the street said it, they were so close that they were more like sisters than friends.
Molly, emboldened by the sight of her ever-faithful ally, called out loudly, ‘Wotcher, Liz.’
‘Hello, Moll, Dan,’ she answered, as she looked their brown-haired companion up and down. ‘So who’s this then?’
‘His name’s Bob Jarvis,’ said Molly, standing next to her friend and joining her in her appraisal of Bob’s looks. ‘Mate of Dan’s. What d’yer reckon?’
Liz cocked her head to one side and considered. ‘All right if yer like that sort of thing, I suppose.’
‘Does your mother know yer out?’ Bob asked with a cheeky wink.
‘Yeah,’ Liz snapped back, with a wink of her own, ‘and she give me a farthing to buy a monkey – you for sale, are yer?’
Bob shook his head. ‘Here, Dan, these two off their heads or what?’
‘Just a bit,’ said Danny, smiling soppily at Liz.
Molly noted the expression on her brother’s face; he looked like Rags dribbling at the marrow bones in the butcher’s shop window. Molly narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, nudged her friend and said something to her quietly behind her hand. Then, continuing in a mock whisper so that Danny and Bob could hear every word, she said, ‘He mentioned us all going to the pictures together, Liz. What d’yer think? D’yer think yer could stand it?’
Liz wrinkled her nose flirtatiously at Danny. ‘Wouldn’t mind. But only if Danny’d sit next to me. Would you like that, eh, Dan, sitting with me? ’Cos I’d really like yer to. Especially as it’s so dark in the flicks. I get really scared when the lights go out, but I’d feel all safe if I knew yer was sitting there next to me.’
Danny eyes widened. What should he say? He coughed exaggeratedly into his hands, hoping his seizure looked convincing, while he desperately tried to think of something clever.
Molly didn’t seem very concerned about her brother having a turn. She took her purse out of her dress pocket and began raking through the farthings and ha’pennies. ‘How much yer got?’ she asked Liz.
‘Enough. Mum let me keep a bit extra this week.’
‘Lucky cow,’ said Molly, clearly unimpressed by her own total wealth. She shoved her purse back into her pocket. ‘You wanna have five kids and a nan in the family like us, that’d teach yer.’
Liz put her finger on her chin and flapped her eyelashes. ‘Yer should have been the baby of the family like me.’
‘Don’t I wish.’ Molly pulled a face at her brother. ‘In fact, I wish I was an only child sometimes. One of them little spoilt brats with ribbons and shiny shoes and all the frocks I could ever want. And just laying in bed until I felt like getting up.’
Danny, his composure miraculously recovered, raised his eyebrows. ‘Girls, eh, Bob? She’s getting mixed up with the films, ain’t she? I ain’t never seen no one like that round here.’
Molly pouted. It wasn’t an expression she usually favoured but, what with Bob being there, she didn’t want to start a slanging match with Danny; she felt she should try and hide her usually loud and mouthy self and act how her mum would call ‘nicely’ instead. ‘Shut up, Dan,’ she said quietly, but she still couldn’t resist adding, with a meaningful curl of her lip, ‘or yer’ll start that cough of your’n off again, won’t yer?’
In complete contrast to his sister’s sudden venture into demureness, Danny had overcome his earlier reticence and was now more than happy to be loud. He flicked his jacket back over his shoulder and then jabbed his finger at his sister. ‘You reckon yer’ve got it hard, do yer? Yer don’t know yer born, Moll, yer’ve got life so easy. You girls don’t have no trouble getting work, not like us blokes. Yer cheap labour.’ He looked shrewdly at Bob. ‘And yer don’t cause no trouble for yer governors neither. And yer don’t have to go breaking yer back doing poxy labouring jobs ’cos there’s nothing else.’
Molly’s girly pout disappeared. She stuck her fists into her waist. ‘Didn’t you listen to a word Dad said, Danny Mehan? Everyone’s having it hard now. Everyone.’
Liz rolled her eyes. ‘Here we go. Saturday night and the battling Mehans are still at it. Don’t you lot ever take a day off?’ She shook her head knowingly at Bob. ‘I’ll guarantee that neither of ’em’s got a clue what they’re on about. Just any old excuse for a ruck’ll do.’
Bob smiled at Liz as he pulled a wallet from his inside pocket. ‘Typical brother and sister, eh?’
Molly’s rage with Danny was instantly forgotten. Like Danny and Liz, she was far too busy staring at Bob’s hands. No one from round their way even owned a wallet, as far as they knew, let alone a flash-looking leather one like Bob was waving about.
He cracked it open and took out a ten-shilling note. ‘Tonight’ll be my treat, if that’s all right with everyone.’
Liz and Molly gawped at each other.
‘Fine by me,’ giggled Molly.
Danny stuck out his chest, proud to be friends with such a man of the world.
Bob s
lapped him chummily on the back. ‘Well, Danny old son, if we’re going, we’d better get a move on. You on?’
‘I’m on,’ Danny agreed with a nod. ‘Now, how about if we meet you two in, say, half an hour?’ He looked at Bob for approval. Bob dipped his chin to give him the go-ahead. ‘In Commercial Road?’
Molly linked arms with Liz. ‘That’ll do us fine. We’ll see yer near the Eastern.’
Bob frowned. ‘No, yer don’t wanna hang around near no pubs by yerselves. Couple of pretty girls like you – yer’d get bothered by all sorts of creeps and no-goods. No, you walk along a bit and we’ll see yer on the corner of Three Colt Street.’
Molly raised her eyebrows at Liz. ‘Ain’t he the bossy one?’
Bob chucked Molly under the chin. ‘Yer’d better remember it and all. And if yer a good girl, I’ll get yer a nice marzipan fish in the interval.’
Molly wrinkled her nose. ‘Yeeurrr, no thanks. I hate the taste of almonds. But I tell yer what, yer can get us a big block of honeycomb to nosh. Something nice and sweet.’ She shoved Liz so hard that she stumbled sideways. ‘We like that, don’t we, Liz, something nice and sweet?’
‘Don’t get me involved,’ said Liz testily, rubbing her side.
‘You can have whatever you fancy, darling,’ said Bob with an exaggerated wink, ‘’cos I’m the man to get it for yer.’ He reached out and ran his finger slowly up and down her cheek. ‘You just remember that.’
Open-mouthed at such familiarity, the girls were still speechless as they watched Bob lead Danny dodging across East India Dock Road and down one of the turnings that led onto Poplar High Street. They waited until they had disappeared from view, and then strolled along arm in arm in unspoken but agreed progress towards the place they had arranged to meet them in half an hour’s time.
They were intrigued by what the exchange with the boys had revealed. Both girls had been fancied, and both girls knew it – that was more than clear – but what was keeping them silent was the possibility that they’d make fools of themselves, if they had over-estimated the boys’ interest in them. For all their bravado and cheek, they knew they were dangerously close to being out of their depths; Molly and Liz had never actually had boyfriends before, and weren’t really sure what they should expect to happen next.
But by the time they had walked just a few yards further along the crowded pavement, Liz could keep quiet no longer. ‘So, what d’yer know about this Bob Jarvis then?’ she asked, trying to sound as though it was of less interest to her than what Rags had had for his tea.
Equally casually, Molly ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I’ve seen him around,’ she said, ‘but it’s the first time I’ve met him proper, like. Seems all right, I suppose. Bit flash though.’ She waved hello to a giggling girl who was dashing across the road between the traffic to join a crowd of her friends. ‘Look, there’s old Phoebe Tucker’s granddaughter. She’s got herself done up a bit lairy, ain’t she?’
‘Don’t change the subject, Moll,’ said Liz, waving too. ‘I reckon he’s nice. Bob, I mean. Well, not nice exactly, more sort of, I dunno, exciting, like. How about the way he touched yer?’ Despite her resolve to remain cool, she chuckled suggestively. ‘It was obvious what he had on his mind. Made me go all funny, it did.’
‘Made you go funny?’ Molly put her hand to her cheek where Bob had touched her ‘How about what it did to me? All goose pimply I was. Anyway, you’re one to talk. How about you and our Dan? First time you two ain’t just talked about football.’
‘He was a bit of a giveaway, wasn’t he? Did yer see his face when I asked him if he’d sit next to me in the pictures?’
Molly joined in with her laughter. ‘No wonder. You was a bit forward, yer know. Right quick off the mark.’
‘You told me to say it! Anyway, you can talk. You was as bad, way you dived in with that Bob. No wonder he got going. Mind you, he ain’t bad-looking, is he? Quite handsome really. And lovely big shoulders. Bit like Clark Gable.’
‘Yeah, if yer squint yer eyes and stand on one leg, he’s a dead ringer.’
‘Silly mare,’ she said, squeezing Molly’s arm affectionately.
‘You thought any more about going hopping this year, Liz?’ Molly asked, stepping off the kerb, ready to cross Upper North Street. ‘Mum’s thinking about going with Nanna and the little ’uns, and I think she expects me to go and all. I ain’t that keen though, to tell yer the truth.’
Hauling Molly back on to the pavement to let a van pass by without running her down, Liz said nonchalantly, ‘Only the little ’uns going, yer say? So Danny ain’t going for the pole-pulling this year, then?’
‘No. He was gonna go, but now Joe Palmer’s promised to keep him on regular like, he’s staying home with Dad.’
‘I think I’ll be staying home and all this year.’
‘Here, I thought I was having yer lead our Danny on for a laugh, but you fancy him, don’t yer? That’s why you don’t wanna go, ’cos Danny ain’t going.’
‘No,’ said Liz indignantly. ‘You was right what yer said before. Jobs are getting harder to come by. Even for girls our age.’
Molly sighed and nodded, suddenly serious. ‘That’s what Dad reckons.’ But, as usual, her sober mood was as short-lived as a soap bubble. ‘Here, Liz,’ she said, prodding her friend, ‘look at them blokes over there. They’re only doing that hand thing.’
‘What hand thing?’
‘Over there, look.’
Liz looked across the road towards Saltwell Street where Molly was pointing. There she saw a group of four boys, all about fourteen years old, slapping anyone who passed them on the back as though they were old friends. ‘What?’ she said. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘Look at the state of their shirts and dresses when they’ve gone past ’em,’ Molly explained.
Liz looked again. Everyone who received the friendly greeting was left with a black sooty impression of a hand marked clearly on their back.
‘Little sods,’ laughed Molly.
‘You can say that again,’ said Liz, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. ‘Look a bit closer, Moll. One of ’em’s got red hair.’
‘Red hair?’ Molly took another look, then, with an angry tutting, she put her hands either side of her mouth to make her voice carry. ‘Sean Mehan!’ she screeched. ‘You just wait till I get my hands on you.’
The four boys scarpered before Molly could cross the busy road, leaving her fuming helplessly on the pavement.
‘I’ll swing for that flaming Sean one day, you just see if I don’t. I’ll have to stop the little bugger before he gets himself in trouble, or Mum’ll do her pieces. And yer know who’ll be to blame.’
Liz’s shoulders slumped. She was used to the Mehan temper and the family’s talent for flying off the handle, and knew what to expect. The prospect of an evening spent trailing along behind Molly while she shouted the odds as they searched for the wayward Sean, presented itself in all its miserable likelihood. And Liz had really got used to the idea of going to the pictures with Danny, as well.
Molly was about to drag her across the street in a gap in the traffic, when an opportunity for Liz to distract her friend presented itself right on cue. Coming towards them, in one of the big huddles of young men and women who were milling about on the pavement, was a girl they both knew. She was a very obviously bottle-made blonde, who, whenever Molly and Liz saw her, always seemed to have the latest length skirt, too much red lipstick, and a new boy on her arm. And she was a girl, they also both knew, who had her eye on Danny.
‘Get a load of her,’ hissed Liz, as they neared the group she was with.
‘Yeah,’ Molly sneered supportively. ‘All cased up as usual. Thinks she’s flipping Joan Blondell, that one. She wants to get herself a mirror, ugly mare.’
‘She’s a flashy-looking cow, all right,’ Liz agreed. ‘But I reckon she could be in the films, if she wanted, yer know.’
Molly was shocked into silence. Stopping dead in her tr
acks she eventually managed to blurt out. ‘What? Her? In the films? You been on the turps, Liz?’
Now she had her attention, Liz started walking again, dragging Molly along beside her. ‘No. I mean it. Just think. Once them Indians have finished with ’em, I reckon them cowboys could always do with a few more horses. And with a face like her’n, she’d be perfect with a saddle on her back.’
When Molly burst out into loud, coarse laughter, Liz grinned happily with relief, all her friend’s thoughts of hunting for Sean seemingly forgotten – for the meantime, at least. It looked as though they would be going to the pictures after all.
They were now nearing the big intersection where West India Dock Road peeled off towards China Town, Burdett Road led away to Mile End, and Commercial Road followed the route into the City – not far from where they had arranged to meet Danny and Bob – but Molly again came to a sudden halt, jerking Liz to a standstill beside her. ‘Cor, I could take a fancy to him, Liz,’ she breathed, her voice full of undisguised admiration.
‘I don’t know what’s got into you,’ Liz said primly, looking around for the object of her friend’s attentions, ‘but don’t let that Bob hear yer.’
‘Ne’mind Bob Jarvis,’ Molly whispered. ‘Just have a look at him, will yer?’ She nodded over the road to where a handsome, black-haired young man of about twenty was coming out of a side street. He had clear, olive skin and, even from that distance, Molly could see that his eyes were so deep brown they were almost black.
‘I know him,’ said Liz.
‘You what? Call him over then.’
‘Well, not exactly know him.’
‘That don’t matter. You just call him.’
Liz sighed in resignation. Like Danny, she knew she would never win in an argument with Molly, so she put four of her fingers between her lips and let out a piercing whistle. Several people looked round, some even smiled hopefully at the pretty blonde girl, wondering if it was their attention she was trying to attract. But the dark-haired young man was one of the few who ignored the shrill signal and he carried on walking away along Commercial Road.
Just Around the Corner Page 4