The Boy With the Latchkey

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘I’d be ready now if I thought it would be safe,’ Mary Ellen said and caught her breath as she heard the key in the lock. ‘Rose is back. Sit down and drink your coffee while I tell her the good news.’

  Billy arched his brows. If they’d given into temptation and gone on Mary Ellen’s bed, Rose would’ve come in and caught them, and even if they’d only been petting she would’ve raised the roof.

  ‘What is he doing here?’ Rose demanded as she put her nursing bag and her cloak on the nearest chair.

  ‘Billy has found a good job with Mr Connolly, the man he helped that night,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘He’ll be giving up his work at the club nights – and we’ll be looking for a place to rent so we can get married when I’m nineteen.’

  ‘You still need my permission, don’t forget,’ Rose said, glaring at Billy. ‘I’ve yet to see him showing signs of being able to afford a wife …’

  ‘I shall now, Rose,’ Billy said and stood up once more. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Mary Ellen. We’ll go somewhere for an hour or two and then you can study in the evening.’

  She nodded and walked to the door with him, whispering as he left, ‘She can’t stop us forever, Billy. Once you’ve got your own place she’ll come round, I promise …’

  Billy leaned in and kissed her softly. Rose had turned her back on them, clearly annoyed to find him here, but unable to forbid it since Mary Ellen ignored her when she told her to give him up.

  Leaving them to sort out their problems themselves, Billy walked home via the river. He saw some boys playing tag but after a moment’s scrutiny decided that Archie wasn’t amongst them. His problems seemed to be sorting themselves out, but he was no nearer to solving the question of what had happened to Archie Miller …

  CHAPTER 13

  Archie ate the bag of chips he’d bought with the few pence he’d earned cleaning the back of a lorry that had transported stinking bones to the glue factory. Maggots had been crawling all over it and he’d had to use bucketfuls of water to rinse it down. For that he’d earned two shillings and sixpence, which had paid for a big bag of chips, leaving enough over for a bread roll and a cup of tea. The man behind the counter had topped the packet up with crispy bits off the fish batter for him and he devoured them with relish. Finding work wasn’t easy for a lad of his age; he was only ever given the worst jobs but he didn’t care, because he’d learned to get by on very little. Water from the public toilets was the only drink he’d had for nearly a week, though he’d been given a bun and a cup of milky coffee at the Italian café where he’d earned two bob for cleaning all the windows.

  Archie had been going to ask Ted Hastings if he would give him a permanent job, but when he reached the marketplace on the Saturday morning he’d seen Billy Baggins talking to the market trader. They’d both looked serious, though obviously on the best of terms, and Archie suspected they’d been talking about him. Perhaps Sister had asked Billy to look out for him – but why? He’d thought she would’ve set the police on him but he hadn’t seen any signs that they were looking for him in particular. If he passed a police officer on the street he was careful to keep his eyes down and avoid confrontation, but no one had stopped him and asked his name.

  Perhaps he wasn’t in trouble with Sister – or not as much trouble as he’d feared. He threw his empty chip paper to the ground, because there wasn’t anywhere else to put it. Mum would clip his ear if she saw him do that, but she wouldn’t be pleased with a lot of the things that Archie had been obliged to get used to, like not brushing his teeth and only washing his face and hands in the basin in the public toilets if he had a penny to get into them.

  Archie didn’t like living on the streets; he didn’t like the constant moving from one place to another and the feeling that he had to keep looking over his shoulder the whole time. Even in summer it got cold at night when you didn’t even have a blanket to cover yourself, and he dreaded the onset of colder nights when the ground was icy. Fortunately, that wouldn’t be for some months. In the meantime, he had to find a proper job and somewhere he could safely take his sister when he found her.

  It was past seven and in a few hours the blackness of night would descend and Archie still hadn’t found a place to sleep. He’d given up shop doors after the approach from the man with the soft voice and creepy eyes, and he headed towards the railway bridges most nights. Usually other homeless men were already settled for the night, some with fires to warm themselves by and make a can of tea. Archie had learned not to ask for anything and was usually allowed to stay as long as he kept his distance.

  He saw the arches ahead of him, his steps slowing uncertainly, because he was never quite certain of his reception. The stench of oil, tar and other less pleasant odours wafted in from the river, but Archie was used to them and took little notice. Perhaps if he was lucky he would find a sheltered spot where he would be out of the wind. Once or twice one of the less surly tramps had allowed him to creep near to his fire, but at other times he’d been ordered to get away. He was developing an instinct that told him whether he dare approach or not and he usually hesitated on the fringes until someone either yelled at him to clear off or shrugged to indicate a vacant spot.

  That night he saw there were a couple of fires burning and both men were brewing tea in billycans. Archie edged as close to the fires as he could, but didn’t ask for a drink. He sat down on the sheet of newspaper he carried, because he still hadn’t found an old cardboard box for himself, which was what most of the men used to shelter them from the damp ground.

  ‘What you starin’ at, kid?’ one of the men muttered.

  He was a tall thin man with a ragged dark beard and long straggly hair. In his hand he held a bottle of something Archie thought was some kind of alcohol; he’d seen other men drinking from similar bottles, but it wasn’t beer or any recognisable brand and he thought it might be something called ‘meths’, but wasn’t sure because he’d only heard the word in passing when two men were quarrelling over a bottle they shared.

  ‘Nuthin’,’ Archie said, averting his gaze instantly. It was too late, because the man had got to his feet and lurched unsteadily towards him, clearly drunk and quarrelsome. Archie was instantly afraid of him because he’d seen fights erupt over nothing under the arches.

  ‘I asked yer what yer were starin’ at, boy!’

  ‘Nuthin’,’ Archie repeated, quaking inside as he saw the man’s bleary eyes. ‘Honest, I just came for a sit down. If I’m in your way, I’ll go …’

  ‘Copper’s nark, are yer? Run to ’em and tell ’em what we’re doin’? Boy like yer don’t belong ’ere I reckon …’

  ‘I ain’t a nark,’ Archie said desperately. He rose gingerly to his feet and prepared to flee, but the tramp grabbed him, holding him by his throat and peering into his face. Archie could smell the foul odour of his breath and felt the gorge rise in his throat; he couldn’t stop himself vomiting onto the man’s body. Its taste was bitter and it smelled almost as bad as the breath that had made him bring up his supper. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that …’ he gabbled as he tried to wipe the vomit from his mouth.

  ‘Yer soddin’ filth,’ the man said and started to shake Archie. ‘I’ll teach yer to spew yer guts over me …’

  He punched Archie in the mouth, sending him reeling. He fell to the ground and struck his head hard, feeling the pain where he’d connected with something metal. Unable to rise, he heard the man’s voice coming to him through a dark mist.

  ‘I’ll teach yer to mess with me. By the time I’ve had yer arse yer won’t forget it …’ His hoarse laughter sounded in Archie’s ears and he felt the man’s hands clawing at his trousers, dragging them down round his ankles, and he gave a shout of rage, trying to kick out at the devil attacking him.

  ‘Leave the kid alone,’ a calm voice reached through the mist.

  ‘Bugger off, Ikey. Ain’t yer business what I do …’

  ‘I told you to leave him alone. He did nothing wrong …’


  Archie heard the sounds of a scuffle. He felt his trousers dragged up to cover his backside, and then he was hauled to his feet and thrown over someone’s shoulder. Fearing the worst, he struggled feebly for a moment, but his head was aching and when the calm voice told him to be quiet because it was all right he subsided. The mist in his head made him hardly aware what was going on and he drifted in and out of consciousness until he realised he was being placed down on something soft and the smell of fresh linen alerted him to the fact that it must be a bed.

  ‘What are you doin’?’ he demanded, attempting to sit up and failing.

  ‘I’m going to let a doctor take a look at you,’ the calm voice said. ‘It’s all right, lad. No one is going to hurt you. We’re safe here. Doctor Kingsley is a mate of mine …’

  Archie felt something cool on his face. His head seemed to be clearing and he managed to focus on the men’s faces; one was that of a down-and-out he’d noticed sitting by one of the fires under the arches, and the other belonged to an elderly man with grey hair and a white coat.

  ‘I banged my head,’ he offered by way of explanation. ‘When he knocked me down and …’ Sitting up hastily, Archie groaned as he felt a wave of nausea sweep over him, but retched on an empty stomach. ‘He never done nuthin’, did he?’

  ‘No, lad, it’s all right,’ the calm voice said. ‘I stopped him in time. He’s a drunken idiot, but he can be handled if you know how. He won’t touch you again now he knows you’re under my protection.’

  Archie attempted to sit up but his head was going round and round and the doctor told him to lie still. He was asked to look at him and to follow his finger and then a light was shone into his eyes.

  ‘Been on the streets long?’ the doctor’s voice asked.

  ‘Nah, just a couple of weeks or so …’ Archie said and at last managed to sit up. ‘I’m all right, Doc. Thanks for helping me, sir, but I’ve got to go now …’

  ‘Hold your horses, lad,’ the calm voice said and as his vision cleared Archie saw smiling eyes looking at him. Eyes as blue as his mum’s were. Somehow the thought eased his panic. ‘We’re not going to hurt you or hand you into the police, but you might as well have some soup and bread, and a cup of tea now you’re here.’

  ‘Ain’t hungry …’ Archie said but his stomach grumbled.

  ‘Well I’m going to eat so you may as well have something, because I can’t let you go back to the arches alone. We can get a bed here for tonight and then tomorrow maybe we can find some work …’

  ‘Work, are you kiddin’ me?’ Archie looked at him in disbelief.

  ‘I’m sure that’s what you want, isn’t it?’ Ikey grinned at him. There was something at the back of Archie’s mind then, a feeling that he’d seen this man once before briefly, but he couldn’t recall when or where. ‘You can tell me your story while we eat, if you like … You don’t have to if you’d rather not, but sometimes it helps to share a problem.’

  ‘What kind of work?’ Archie said and got up off what he now saw was a doctor’s couch. ‘Thanks, I’m all right now.’

  ‘Yes, lad, I’m sure you are,’ Doctor Kingsley said. ‘Ikey will show you the ropes. You’re not the first he’s brought here by any means.’

  Ikey led the way from the small consulting room through a hall into a large dining room. About twenty tables covered in oilcloth were set out in lines and men were sitting at most of them eating chunks of bread and bowls of soup, and they all had mugs of tea on the table. A few curious stares followed them as Ikey led the way to the counter where food and tea was being dispensed. Archie’s stomach rumbled again when he smelled the delicious soup.

  ‘It’s fresh vegetables and it will be good,’ Ikey said as he asked for their food. Archie saw that no money changed hands and looked at him curiously as they walked to the nearest table.

  ‘You didn’t pay for the soup?’

  ‘No, it is free. The mission is run by Doctor Kingsley and some of his friends. You can get a meal here twice a week and a bed if you need it. They open every day but the rule is you only come twice in a week. They can’t serve everyone every night and there are only so many beds …’

  ‘I didn’t know there was a place like this …’

  ‘Actually, there are several, but some of them charge a few pence for a meal and a bed, some only take sailors or servicemen. You have to get to know them and stick to a routine. I only use this place if I have to, because others are in more need. I’ve got regular work in a lumber yard so I can pay for my bed if I want.’

  ‘Why were you down the arches tonight then?’

  ‘Because it suits me to remember what happens if you let the demon drink take over,’ Ikey said. ‘Lucky thing for you I was, young ’un. What’s your name by the way?’

  ‘Archie …’ Archie hesitated, then, ‘I ran away from the home in Essex because I’ve got to find my sister June – and they locked me in a cupboard. I weren’t in there long, but I thought if I asked about June they might shut me in there again so I came back to London …’

  ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’

  Archie was silent, then, ‘You’re a man that’s been educated proper. Why are you on the streets?’

  ‘I lost everything I cared for in life and then took to drink,’ Ikey said. ‘Why were you in a home? Have you no parents?’

  ‘My father died and they put Mum in prison for stealing – and she’s innocent,’ Archie said, giving him a belligerent stare. ‘They said she pinched some cheques and money but Mum wouldn’t do that. She told me Reg Prentice had it in for her …’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘He was her manager at the biscuit works. She wouldn’t tell me why he’d set her up but I reckon he was after her. She wouldn’t let him near her and he didn’t like it so he made up lies and they believed him …’ Archie glared as Ikey remained thoughtful. ‘You think I’m making it up …’

  ‘No, Archie, I’m thinking that it’s a story I’ve heard all too often.’ He looked at his soup. ‘You can tell me it all as we eat, but don’t let your soup go cold …’

  Archie put a spoonful in his mouth. It was the best thing he’d eaten in ages and he could hardly stop himself shovelling it in, but saw that Ikey ate his slowly with relish and decided to do the same.

  Ikey nodded approvingly, pushing his empty bowl away. ‘The food is good here, that’s why I come sometimes, but I try not to abuse their kindness. Tomorrow, I’ll see if you can work at the lumber yard with me – that’s if you want?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Archie said. ‘I have to save enough money to get tickets for the train.’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’

  ‘I don’t know where June has been taken. Sister Beatrice said she didn’t know about it until it was too late, but she must have the information in her files – don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, I would think so …’ Ikey nodded. ‘I think I’ve heard of her – she runs St Saviour’s in Halfpenny Street, doesn’t she? I’ve heard it’s a decent place for kids …’

  ‘Yeah, it was all right,’ Archie acknowledged. ‘Only, they wanted to send me and June off to Essex – to Harlow; Halfpenny House is on the outskirts I reckon, ’cos there’s fields and trees all round and it’s quiet. We drove through the town to get there; bits of it looked all right, but the buildings all looked square and ugly, not like here in London. I went by train and June was supposed to follow in the car but the council people took her to be fostered. Mum will kill me if she gets home and finds that June has gone. She should be with us …’

  Ikey looked thoughtful again. ‘You want to get her back, is that it?’

  ‘She belongs with me and Mum.’

  ‘Yes, but the law may not see it that way, Archie. It may be that because your mum went to prison they will say that she isn’t fit to have the care of your sister. You’re nearly old enough to choose for yourself, but June is still young – unless I’ve got that wrong?’

  ‘She’s nine, ten next spring,’
Archie said and worried at his bottom lip with his teeth. ‘I’ve got to see her, talk to her – find out if she’s all right …’

  ‘Yes, I see how it would be upsetting for you, but you have nowhere to live and June is too young to be on the streets. You wouldn’t want what happened to you to happen to her?’

  ‘No!’ Archie shook his head vigorously. ‘No, not that – but I have to know she’s all right so I can tell Mum. She won’t let them adopt her and then she can get her back when she has a house for us …’

  ‘Perhaps … no, don’t flare up at me, Archie. Your mum has fallen foul of injustice. That needs to be put right. If we could prove she was innocent, they would have to let her out – and she would get June back then …’

  ‘How do we do that?’

  ‘We need a lawyer …’

  ‘Lawyers cost money, don’t they?’

  ‘A lot of money … unless you know someone,’ Ikey agreed. ‘Finish your meal and then we’ll go to the baths. We could both do with one before we go to bed …’ He grinned as he saw Archie’s scowl. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s a pain in the backside, but one of the rules. Besides, it’s good to feel clean. You don’t want nits, do you?’

  ‘Mum would kill me,’ Archie said, resigned to his fate. He hung back for a moment. ‘Why are you helpin’ me like this?’

  ‘No particular reason, except that I happen to hate bullies and injustice,’ Ikey said. ‘Stick with me, Archie and I’ll see what I can do to get you through this … Do you trust me?’

  ‘Yeah …’ Archie nodded as he looked long and hard. Ikey’s clothes were much the same as every other down-and-out’s, but there was something different about him, something he couldn’t define, but liked. ‘You remind me of my dad …’

  ‘Your dad was a good man?’

  ‘Yeah, the best! We were all right until he died.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see what we can do to make things right again.’